by D. Gamblez
I know Dre didn’t mean it when he said he might marry me, but now I’m gonna be thinking about wedding bells and shit all damn day. Hell, probably all month. I mean, I love him, so why can’t I have him forever?
When I got back to the room, Dre was sitting on the edge of the bed playing Call of Duty. Every time he blew something up with a grenade or sniped someone in the game, he moved the controller around in the air as if he could control the movements in the game with it.
“Why do you always do that when you play video games?” I said as I plopped down on the bed next to him. Then stood back up and grabbed the breakfast cart from the corner and rolled it in front of the bed. I’d made Dre buy the cart a week ago after he kept eating late-night snacks and leaving crumbs of food in bed. I was definitely not trying to get ants or bedbugs.
“Come on, man!” he whined after getting blown up by his own grenade.
“You know moving the controller around doesn’t help you maneuver in the game, right? That’s what the control pad and buttons are for.”
“Shut yo’ ass up! I know what the control pad is...” His voice trailed off and his head snapped in my direction quicker than a cheetah on the scent of fresh prey when he smelled the two full plates of thick-cut hickory-smoked bacon, scrambled eggs, French toast topped with strawberries and whipped cream, and sausage links I’d placed on the cart. The look on his face when he saw the food was more than I had hoped for.
“Shut my what now? I didn’t quite hear you, boo,” I teased.
“When the hell you learn to cook like this, Audi?” he said, placing the video game controller down and forking to scoops of eggs in his mouth.
“Damn, boy, slow down ,” I chuckled. But he just kept on heaping spoonfuls into his mouth. “Dre, slow down before you choke yourself to death,” I warned as I grabbed a piece of bacon and devoured it like a pit-bull.
We both looked at each other and burst out in laughter.
When the phone rang I instantly became anxious. But my cause for worry wasn’t due to the ringing of the phone so much as to why it was ringing. It had been two weeks since Lyrical had been shot, and the doctors had finally given her the okay to leave. Although I was more than glad she was getting released, I wasn’t ready for what I knew was about to come next.
Jinx had gotten info that Diego’s sister Anika had been running errands for him and his crew while they were laying low, so Anika knew where they had been holing up since the shooting at the club. Raheem used to sell weed to Anika, so he knew where she hung out, and they planned on going through there to convince her to give up Diego’s hideout. But before all of that was to happen, Dre and the rest of the guys were supposed to go out to Goshen to pick up some guns today. Now that the call had finally come, I realized that I was not ready for it.
“What up, fam? Ya’ll ready?” Dre said into the phone, his face becoming serious as he went into ‘gangsta’ mode. “I’m on my way.”
“What time are you guys picking up Lyrical?” I asked after he’d ended the call. I was doing my best trying not to sound worried.
“I figured we let her chill with her peeps for today, you know? Then swing through there tomorrow and pick her up,” he said as he got dressed. “Don’t forget to lock the door and set the alarm when you leave, a’ight? What time you gotta go in for work today?”
“I don’t go in till 4:00, but I can call off if you want me and the Gucci Girlz to go with ya’ll.”
“Naw, ma. We got this. I told you, I appreciate what ya’ll did at the club, but I don’t want y’all gettin’ caught up in this shit, you hear me? I don’t want that kinda life for you, Audi. We only doing this shit to get back for what they did to Lyrical. They left her for dead, so we gonna return the favor. But we gonna make sure that none of them bitch-ass niggas are breathing before we leave up outta there.”
I didn’t like not being able to be by my man’s side, but I understood why he didn’t want me there. Killing somebody is not as easy as you think it is. I was still haunted by what happened at the club. Whenever I was distracted and somebody slammed a door or dropped something that made an echo sound, I would either duck or jump, thinking I was being shot at again.
“Don’t worry, ma,” he hugged me. “I promise we gonna be careful. And after this, we done with this whole Diego shit, a’ight? Then it’s all about gettin’ that paper.”
“All right,” I said after a long kiss. “But finish your breakfast first. I didn’t make this shit just so you could leave it sitting here to get cold.”
“A’ight, ma. Hey...” he said suddenly. “You know I love you ,right? I mean, you know I mean it when I say it, right?”
“Yeah, I know, Dre. I believe you, and I love you, too, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then...promise me that those other girls will never come before me again.”
“Audi, what you talking−”he started to lie, but I cut him off.
“Please, Dre,” I said, my voice breaking. “Please promise that you’ll be loyal to me and you’ll leave them other girls alone. Please?”
I suspected he was still about to lie about cheating on me, but when he looked up at me and saw the tears running down my face, he closed his mouth and nodded. “Yeah, Audi, I promise. And I’m sorry. Even though none of these chicks mean shit to me but a fuck and suck, I should’ve been faithful to you. So, yeah, I’m sorry, baby, and I promise to be loyal to you from now on. You forgive me for being a dog?”
I looked at him for a second before answering. Do I forgive him? Better yet, do I believe him? Yeah...yeah, I believe him. And I forgive him. Because I love him. More than anything in this world, I love him.
“You forgive me, baby?” he asked again, his eyes pleading.
I leaned over and kissed him. “Yeah, boy, I forgive you. Just don’t make me regret it, okay? I’m your girl, Dre, which means you have my heart. So you have to treat me right.”
“I promise,” he said before returning my kiss. “I promise.”
“Come back to me, Dre. Promise me you won’t get kill and you’ll come back to me,” I said suddenly, changing the subject to the one regarding Diego. “All of you; promise me that ya’ll will come back.”
“I promise,” he said for the third time, but for a different reason.
Then we finished eating.
Dre
We pulled up to the gated community on County Road 38 out in Goshen, Indiana a little after 5:00 that evening.
Before picking up Devonte and Raheem, I had driven out to Chicago to pick up payment from my brother Damon for the three drug runs we had done that week. We had to do double the runs this week to catch up from the week before because I had decided that it was best if we laid low for a while since Sergeant Mills had pretty much informed us that she would be watching us.
But after seeing on the news that her condo had gotten hit by the Death Dealers and they had murdered a young girl in her home, we figured she would have bigger things to worry about than us. So, I had put us back in hustle mode that week, promising my brother that we would do twice as much to make up for the week before.
I had stopped by Jinx’s nail salon and stashed the money until we got back, only taking what I would need to purchase the gear I intended to get from my connect, which was Crazy Curt With A Capitol C out in Goshen, where we were now.
“Where’d you say you met this dude again?”Devonte asked.
“At a party out in South Bend last year. That’s where he used to stay till the feds raided his Carnival and found a bunch of drugs, guns, and exotic illegal animals. After that, he went on the run. Been moving around a lot ever since. Only a handful of people know where he stay, so I know he trust me since he let me know where he staying at.”
“Why we ain’t come out here at night?”Raheem asked.
“‘Cause he don’t like to do business at night. Says he don’t like it when he can’t see the expressions on people’s faces when he’s doing busine
ss with ‘em,” I explained.
“All I wanna know is what kinda nigga calls his own self Crazy Curt With A Capitol C”?”Devonte asked. “I mean, everybody know the first letter in yo’ name is capitalized, so what’s the deal with that shit?”
“Naw, fam,” I said, a hint of irritation creeping in. “He don’t say ‘With A Capitol C’ because the first letter in his name is capitalized, he says that because it’s a part of his name. Like, literally. He had it legally changed to that. Crazy Curt With A Capitol C is his name.”
“What kinda weird-ass shit is that, my nigga?”Raheem asked. “What’s his last name, then?”
“Nigga, I don’t know. With A Capitol C, I guess. Nigga kinda weird, but he’ll put a bullet in yo’ ass with the quickness if he think you on some bullshit, so ya’ll niggas be cool, a’ight?”
“Whateva, my nigga. Let’s just do this shit and get the fuck up outta this weird-ass neighborhood. All these white ma’fuckas looking at us like they ain’t never seen a nigga before.”
“Chill out, fam,” I whispered. “Here he come.”
“What...the fuck?”Raheem said when he saw a lone male approaching us.
“Is this a joke, my nigga?”Devonte asked. His eyes widened at what he was seeing.
We all sat in the black GMC Suburban Devonte had borrowed from one of his crackhead connects out in the Miller Projects neighborhood and watched in awe as a medium-sized, brown-skinned guy headed in our direction.
He wore a powdered wig like they did back in the 18th century, a hockey mask that looked as though it had been painted black, a red leather jacket with about one hundred zippers on it, a jacket similar to the one Michael Jackson wore in his Thriller video, and a pair of black fins on his feet not unlike what divers used to better swim underwater.
But the thing that stood out the most was the gold AK-47 he had pointing at us as he rolled up to the security gate on a pink and black skateboard.
“Why this ma’fucka ain’t got no pants on, my nigga?”Devonte asked, pointing to the lone pair of red Speedos Crazy Curt wore.”And this nigga got this gay-ass jacket on with oil all on his chest and shit. Fam, this nigga a faggot or sumthin’?”
“Man, I’m ‘bout to shoot this nigga, fam,” Raheem stated as he went to retrieve his .45 from the small of his back. But I placed a firm grip on his arm, staying him from drawing his weapon. “What the fuck, yo?” he snapped.
“Fam,” I warned him. “You up strap on this nigga, and not only are the guards in them shacks right there gonna be on our ass, this whole ma’fuckin’ block gonna light us the fuck up. Fuck is wrong with ya’ll? Didn’t I tell ya’ll niggas to be cool?”
“Be cool?”Devonte asked. “Tell me you don’t see this nigga out here on a skateboard with a powdered wig on his head, my nigga.”
“And tell me I didn’t tell ya’ll this nigga’s weird as fuck. But, like I said, he cool, so chill the fuck out for this nigga start trippin’, a’ight? Goddamn! Wouldn’t have even brought ya’ll niggas with me if I knew ya’ll was gonna act like some scared-ass pussies and shit.”
We watched as Crazy Curt lowered the gold AK and lifted his hand high, twirling his finger clockwise in the air about three times before letting it rest back on the stock of the rifle.
As soon as the gate began to open, I rolled down the driver-side window and put up three fingers to let Crazy Curt know how many of us were in the truck.
Nodding his approval, Crazy Curt pushed off the ground with his foot to propel the skateboard forward until he was sidled up next to the driver-side window of the SUV.
“Howdy, truck driver,” a country-accented voice mumbled from beneath the hockey mask.
“What up, Crazy Curt With A Capitol C?” I stuck my fist out for him to dab me. Instead, he grabbed my hand, tilted his mask up slightly, and kissed my knuckles, not unlike how a gentleman does when he greets a lady.
“My nigga, if that faggot-ass ma’fucka try kissin’ my hand, I’ma empty this whole ma’fuckin’ clip down his throat. Believe that shit, my nigga,” Devonte whispered beside me.
“You sumbitches head on up the road there and I’ll tell ya when to stop,” Crazy Curt said.
Before I could ask what he meant, he skateboarded to the back of the truck, banging on the back window moments later, signaling for us to proceed. As we began driving down the street, I noticed that there were only white people going about the neighborhood.
After about three minutes, Crazy Curt hopped off the back of the truck and cradled the skateboard under his arm, then continued the rest of the way on foot, the fins on his feet slapping against the concrete with every step. He walked up to a yellow and white-trimmed house and looked back at us, signaling for us to follow him.
I pulled into the driveway and we all hopped out. Even though the sun was beginning to set, it was still bright enough to cause me to grab my Calvin Klein shades from the glove box. Besides the August heat, the day was pretty nice. I took a second to admire the normal life of kids playing in their yards, adults lounging on their porches, birds converging on tree branches, and women and men mingling amongst family, neighbors, and friends. Then I tuned all of it out and focused on the reason we were out there in the first place.
As soon as we stepped into the house, my olfactory senses were overwhelmed by an unknown, but pleasant aroma of cooked foods.
“You boys want some roasted hyena and crushed red pepper juice?” Crazy Curt asked us as he headed towards the kitchen.
“Am I trippin,’ or did this nigga just say he was cooking hyena?”Devonte asked.
“And what the fuck is crushed red pepper juice?”Raheem chimed in.
“Chill the fuck out before he hear ya’ll,” I whispered. “Yeah, that’s cool,” I shouted in the direction of the kitchen. “Appreciate it, Crazy Curt With A Capitol C.”
“Why you keep saying this nigga whole name, fam?”Raheem asked.
““Cause the last ma’fucka who didn’t say his whole name ended up being breakfast, lunch, and dinner for his gator, fam,” I said .
“Gator?”Raheem and Devonte asked in unison.
“Yeah, you know, an alligator,” I said absently. “But he ain’t that big, though. At least he wasn’t the last time I saw him.”
From what I could tell as I surveyed my surroundings, the entire house looked like something out of a National Geographic magazine. Hundreds of animal heads were hanging on the walls; bear, wolf, deer, fox, hyena, lion, elephant, lizards, and etc. There was not any furniture in the living room to sit on, nor were there any tables. The only item in the living room was a large brown coffin set in the middle of the floor.
“Please...Please, God, don’t let this nigga be a vampire,” Devonte said.
I was about to address the absurdity of Devonte’s comment when Crazy Curt came back into the living room pushing a food cart full of charred meat and vegetables. But what was most shocking about the scene was Crazy Curt’s attire.
“Sorry for the wait,” he explained simply. “I had to change into my formal dinner wear.”
But nothing about his attire said formal, instead it screamed lunatic. In place of his original outfit, he wore a pink toga, a straw hat, big red clown shoes, and face paint in the style of a mime.
“Baby, you forgot the crushed red pepper juice,” a soft, feminine voice said from the kitchen.
I was taken aback seconds later when a voluptuous female dwarf came into the living room hauling a five-gallon bucket filled with a dark-red liquid. “Ya’ll have to excuse my hubby,” she said as she struggled with the bucket. “He be on that shit sometimes.”
I didn’t know what ‘that shit’ was, but I knew I did not want any of it after seeing the effect it was having on Crazy Curt.
“Look, Crazy Curt With A Capitol C,” I said, getting impatient.”We just came to do a little business. We’d love to stay and enjoy this wonderful meal you got cooked up, but we gotta handle some shit, if you know what I mean.”
He and the pretty
dwarf looked at us for at least a minute before he walked over to the coffin and lifted the lid, then he motioned us over to him.
“We don’t need all this,” I said as I peered down into the coffin at guns, ammo, knives, grenades, even a bazooka. “How much for two of these AK’s, one of them pump shotguns right there, and two of them Glocks?”
“Gimme five stacks and you boys can fuck my little muffin right here as a bonus,” he said, pointing to his wife.. Then he slapped me hard on the arm and laughed like a hillbilly. “Just fucking with ya, truck driver. Gimme the five grand and we all settled up, alright?”
I reached in my pocket and peeled off the amount he requested and handed it to him. “Let me know if you need anything, a’ight?” I said.
“As a matter of fact”…”he trailed off, a devilish glint in his eye. “How ‘bout you try some of this here hyena. I killed it this morning after the little bitch lunged at my muffin here. Man’s best friend or not, you don’t fuck with my muffin.”
Man’s best friend? This nigga really comparing a hyena to a dog? I thought to myself as I was trying to figure a way to decline his offer without coming off as offensive, but then my phone rang, saving me. “Mind if I step outside to take this call real quick, fam?” I asked Crazy Curt after recognizing the number of the Nailed It! nail salon.
Getting the okay from Crazy Curt, a soft and sexy voice whispered incoherently into my ear a moment later. I knew it was Jinx from the accent, but I did not understand why she was whispering.
“What?” I said, pressing the phone tightly against my ear. “Jinx, I can’t hear shit you saying. Speak up, ma.”
“Anika here at salon getting shampoo and condition her hair by Joy,” she said in her broken-English Vietnamese accent.
“Make sure that bitch stay her ass right there, you hear me, Jinx?” I said. “And make sure Joy takes her sweet-ass time doing her hair. Give her a little sumthin’ to keep her quiet. ‘Bout $300 should do it. And, Jinx, I don’t wanna have to tell you what’ll happen to yo’ girl if she talk.”
