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The Legend of Johnny Hustle: The Come Up

Page 6

by Zach Tate


  “Yeah, cuz, you got expensive taste.” Yoda shook his head. “That’s Cashmere. He’s a pimp, but don’t call him that to his face. He prefers you call him a ‘ladies man.’ His hustle is women and the things they can do for him. He made a couple of large ones; drives a Benz. You don’t have to worry ‘bout him much. Whenever you see him in all white, it means it’s the summer time and he’s in New York having fun with the ladies. He controls the Plaza Hotel. Yeah, the Plaza Hotel. Wears black all winter and fall, and goes out to Los Angeles to his mentor, Pierre, for more schooling. Whatever you do, keep your women away from him.”

  I heard the name Pierre and my heart jogged at little faster. I wondered if it was the pimp who raised me and was the best thing that happened to my mother before she chased him away and caught the deadly disease. I shrugged it off figuring that Pierre had to be dead.

  “Tell me something, Johnny; you ever do time, see a person cry because you took their last dime, or watch a man waste his time?” Yoda asked while staring into my eyes.

  “Why do you ask?” I replied, knowing what was coming.

  “Never answer a question with a question again. Do you think you really ready to live this life and hold water when the heat come? How I know you ain’t the heat?”

  I was getting upset, but the man was right. I decided to say something slick, hoping he could relate to it. “Listen, this game chose me, I didn’t choose this game. Until I did what I did with Brave Dave, I felt like I didn’t have any meaning in life. And to answer your question, you know I’m not the police because from the little I saw you do, I would have gone after bigger fish. Plus, your intuition is too strong to be wrong. So come on and teach me, Man, so I can make you rich and proud.”

  Yoda smiled. When I saw his teeth, I breathed easy. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. “Oh yeah—yeah, we gonna have some fun,” he said smiling.

  A tray of champagne floated by; Yoda handed me two glasses and took one for himself. The moment the waiter walked away, a chocolate woman, about five feet five inches tall, walked by. She was wearing a sky blue, one-piece, mini-skirt outfit that exposed her arms and C-cup cleavage. She had long shiny blonde hair that was scissored right above her razor sharp eyebrows. Her eyes were colored with blue contacts. The lights illuminated her shiny chocolate skin, and spotlighted an ass that I could have sat my drink on. I stared at her small head and worked my way down to her light blue, open toe, heeled sandals—which had her manicured toes on full display. Light blue talons graced her hands, and her long eyelashes looked like little wings. The bright gold lipstick she wore gave me an instant erection.

  “Who’s that?” I asked Yoda, eagerly thinking with my small head and not my big one.

  “You like her, cuz? Or is that a pistol in your pocket?”

  “She’s fine man. Who is she?”

  “You really like that, huh? Well, that fox is Roxy. A young renegade hoe that does her own thang. You know how to dance?” Before I had a chance to respond, Yoda whistled, getting the attention of the fox. “Hey, Roxy. Dance with my man and don’t scratch him too hard.”

  The fox walked over and stood inches away from me. The blue eyes she purchased scanned me from top to bottom before she licked her top lip. She put her nose to my neck and inhaled my aroma. “Mmm, he’s fine, Yoda. I want to keep him for myself.”

  Yoda laughed like it was an inside joke. As Roxy was leading me to the dance floor, Yoda said, “Let me hold your drinks for you, cuz, until you come back.”

  Before I Let Go, by Maze & Franky Beverly came on when we were cutting the rug. During the dance, my eyes were so fixed on Roxy’s curves grinding against my crotch, that I didn’t pay attention to anything but the sensations. She was fluid like a professional. I promised myself I would eventually get to know her better.

  “I like you. I like you a lot,” she yelled over the music then planted my palms on her rear while she danced in my arms.

  All Night Long, by the Mary Jane Girls played, and Roxy spun me around effortlessly. The heat of her crotch swayed with my back. She then put her hands on my chest, rocked from side-to-side, and rubbed my shoulders down until she was at my ankles. My butt bumped against her crotch as her hands palmed my stiffness. I thought the friction between our blue clothes was going to give birth to ocean waves on the dance floor. I stiffened harder to her seduction, and in one move, she spun me back around and then stopped.

  “Whew, you gonna sweat my perm out,” she said as she walked away. “Thanks for the dance,” she mouthed, waving herself out of the hall.

  As Roxy stepped away, I skipped over to Yoda, who was holding two flutes of champagne in his hands. Vanilla stood next to him with a third glass in his hand.

  “Cuz, I thought you was going to wear that girl out. You must be thirsty, huh? Here—here” Yoda said before passing me the two glasses. “Drink up.”

  After I shot the first two flutes down, Vanilla handed me his glass and said, “Drink up. I’m Vanilla. It’s a pleasure to meet a real hustler for once. My man Yoda told me a lot about you.”

  I swallowed the third glass and gasped for air, as I said, “Thanks. Me and Yoda gonna do big things, really big things. I’m gonna wear that crown next year.”

  The two men laughed hysterically. Vanilla smoothly walked up beside me. I was sandwiched between them, and the room suddenly got quiet. I could still see people dancing, so I knew music had to still be playing.

  “You got a lot to learn, Young Blood, you got a lot to learn,” Vanilla said.

  When I tried to answer him, the room flipped and started spinning. I figured the champagne was too strong, but I had no control over my body. I was wide-awake, but the rest of my body was asleep.

  Yoda and Vanilla walked me outside. I gave my legs the command to turn around, but my legs followed the path of the two hustlers. We reached the curb and a four-door Cadillac pulled up with a woman driving.

  Yoda and I got into the back seat. Again Yoda said, “You got a lot to learn, a whole lot to learn.”

  In a slurred voice, I heard myself repeating, “I got a lot to learn,” before everything went black.

  $$$

  I partially came to, lying in a bed. Through groggy eyes, I saw my clothes quickly being removed by Yoda and Vanilla. I wanted to kick out, but my body didn’t move. I didn’t know what the men were going to do. I was told a hundred times since then that Yoda asked, “You chose the game, cuz, or the game chose you?”

  “I chose the game,” I uttered.

  “Why you come down to Times Square? Who sent you?”

  “No one, it—it—it was an accident. A la-la—long accident.”

  Vanilla moved into a seat, facing me like an interrogator. In a squeaky voice he asked, “You the heat, someone from Mid-town South sent you down?”

  “Mid-town? Mid-town South?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you the fuzz? Five-oh? One time? What’s your name and tax registry number? You the police? Who sent you?”

  “I—no fuzz,” I remember saying.

  I was slipping in and out of consciousness by then. That night I had a dream that my body was a giant carrot, and a giant red bunny rabbit with green eyes was chasing me through the city. I was running through Manhattan yelling, “My body’s a carrot—my body’s a carrot! The bunny is gonna eat me!”

  Everybody I stopped along the way kept asking, “Hey, what’s up, Doc?” and they all had big rabbit teeth and ears. I was out of it, but when I came to, the rest of my problems were just beginning.

  $$$

  I was pulled out of my slumber by the sound of waves splashing through my eardrum. When I jumped out of bed, thinking the hose to the washing machine had busted, I was in a strange hotel room. Yoda stood over me—wearing a pair of dirty jeans, sneakers, and a rumpled tee shirt, with an empty glass in his hand.

  “What the hell you throw cold water on me for?” I yelled out at the top of my lungs.

  “I had to pull you out of them roofies I slipped into your
drink last night.”

  I looked out the window and into the darkness, and then down at my Mickey. It read 4:44. I knew it couldn’t have been the afternoon so I asked, “I slept a whole day?”

  Yoda chuckled. “Yeah, twenty-four hours. Vanilla must have gave you a higher dose of Rohypnol or something, but it’s time to go.”

  The man’s words registered in my head about what he had done to me. “Why the hell you drug my drinks? Where’s my clothes? And why the hell you wake me up so early in the morning?”

  I was ready to hit the man, then he said, “Early bird gets the worm.”

  In an effort to pull myself together, I took a few deep breaths and said, “Yo-yo, you gonna tell me right now what the hell is going on. What type of twisted bag you working out of?”

  “You want to hustle right?” he asked patiently.

  “Yeah but you—”

  “You wanna take the crown from the king right?”

  “You still didn’t—”

  “Man, it’s early, and while the rest of the city is getting ready to get up or go to sleep, you about to get up and start the hustle. You in or not? You can go home, or get high with Brave Dave. Time is ticking, cuz.”

  I fought to get out of the bed. “Yeah alright, but I want to know why you drugged my drink?”

  Yoda’s frozen face touched my nose. “I don’t have a license to steal, rob, and take advantage of people. I been in this game thirty years and only did a short stretch in the pen. I’m not going back. Why I chose you, I know. Why you chose me, I didn’t. So before I accept you as my student, I had to find out if you was a plant for the police, or a rat. So far, I know the answer to one, but with the latter, time will tell. Now get up and let’s go.”

  I reached for the pants I had on the night of the party. The first thing I searched for was my thirteen hundred dollars. When I reached into each pocket I found lint. Frantically I searched all over the room while Yoda stood over me.

  “Whattya you looking for, cuz?”

  While looking him right into his eyes, I asked, “You take my money?”

  Yoda rolled his eyes and laughed. “If I take your money, it will be big paper. You wouldn’t have found out until it was way too late. And you wouldn’t have that look on your face, ‘cause you would know that game recognize game. Roxy took your short paper last night while you was on the dance floor.”

  “Roxy?” I asked in shock, wondering when the small heist occurred.

  “Yeah, cuz, I told her right in your face not to hit you too hard. But you got caught in the hype of the sights.” Yoda did a silly dance where his ass was bouncing and jiggling, and then continued. “As soon as you was grinding your ass, she put her hand on your little wee-wee. Like a true lame that ain’t true to the game, you bent and she dug for all your cash. Ha-ha-ha. We split it fifty-fifty. And yeah, cuz, I told you to never leave your drinks with no one, but what did you do? The next time somebody drugs you, you may not wake up. I told you, don’t-TRUST NOBODY! Now get dressed and stop playing games with me, we running late.”

  With my stomach growling, and my head pounding, I got dressed and walked out the door behind my new teacher.

  4

  Basic Training

  We crept out of the room like a couple of burglars in the middle of a heist. From the dimly lit hallway, and the grime on the side of the beige walls, I knew we were not in the Carter hotel. The hard, hollow carpet under my feet was destroyed, and the room I left had the only door that looked secured. My money was in Roxy’s pocket and all that I owned was on my back, so it really didn’t matter. When Yoda and I got to the end of the deserted hallway, he opened the service elevator.

  “Where are we?” I asked still groggy from my all day rest.

  Yoda’s eyebrows touched in the middle. “We in a elevator fool. What’s wrong with you, cuz? Them drugs still got you tripping?”

  “I know we’re in an elevator, but where?”

  “You don’t recognize my elevator? You in the Carter.”

  “The Carter?” I was filled with disbelief. “I thought it looked much better than this when I was here before?”

  “The sights is for the hype fool. Everything you see in the square is a hustle, cuz. The lobby's plush so that out of towners will come right in. By the time they get caught up with all the mirrors, they ignore the No Refund sign. They check in, realize where they at, and they check out just as fast. That way, the owners get paid and they don’t have to pay any overhead, ‘cause no one lives here accept welfare mothers and junkies.”

  “You don’t look like a welfare mother, and by the way you was looking at Money Russ, I can tell you don’t like junkies. What’s up with you and him anyway?”

  Yoda’s eyes bent at its corners. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you that story. I live in the penthouse because this is my hotel.” The elevator stopped and Yoda said, “Come on.”

  A flight of stairs awaited us across from Yoda’s penthouse. I followed his lead up each steel stair. When we reached the top landing, he removed a key from his pocket that disengaged the fire alarm. After the small key made a complete turn, the door opened and we walked onto the roof.

  Way above the stained pavement of suffering, we meshed with the Manhattan skyline. We were close to thirty floors; it’s a good thing I wasn’t afraid of heights. As I took careful steps on the black tar roof, I looked over at Yoda. He walked to the ledge. He stepped up, waved at me, and then quickly jumped off. I heard his scream and yelled for him while rushing to the edge. He would die once he touched the ground. By the time I reached the edge and looked over, Yoda was three feet below me on a wider ledge with a ladder attached to it.

  My legs fell out from under me. I sat on the black tar for three minutes, trying to swallow the lumps in my throat and pull my nerves together.

  From the safe perch below, Yoda yelled up, “Look beyond the obvious, cuz! That’s your first lesson!” My heartbeat was still rapid. My breathing was uneven. I peeked over the ledge. “Jump down,” he beckoned with his hands, filled with the conviction that I would gamble with my life. “Scared money don’t make no money. Since you ain’t got a dime, what the hell you afraid of? Jump! Fear is one thing that’ll get you busted in a heartbeat, so jump or live in fear.”

  With my eyes closed, and the surety that one misstep was gonna ‘cause my death, I jumped. I didn’t open my eyes until I felt my feet meet the solid gravel on the ledge. Yoda held me steady while he straddled the ledge.

  “Take a look over the ledge, cuz. Tell me what you see?”

  I took a look. We were staring down at the desolate, early grime of 42nd Street.

  “I see a bunch of money exchanging hands, hustles in every corner. I taste the breeze that lets me know that rain is coming, so the detectives might stay in. Since they don’t wanna get wet I can get paid. I hear the honking horns of a yellow cab…”

  “Cuz,” Yoda cut me off. “If I wanted to hear that lame diatribe Brave Dave be running, I would have woke his ass up and asked him what he see. Game recognizes game. Anybody can quote a bunch of bull-shaggle they heard somewhere else. I don’t want a recital, I want to know what your eyes see?”

  I looked down at the little ant-sized people walking.

  “Okay, since you want me to be straight up with you, I see a bunch of things moving real fast. I know that if the opportunity is right I can use it to my advantage to get paid and never worry again a day in my life.”

  Yoda rubbed his hands together. “Boy do I love honesty in such a dishonest world. Okay, cuz, tell me why you think we do what we have to do to survive?”

  Finally the teaching began. “From what I saw last night, everybody has their own reasons. I actually saw an orthodox Jew up in there hanging out with Black hustlers. I saw a group of White men that looked like bankers rather than con men. Then to top it off, that table full of old ladies with all them diamonds on, all suntanned like they straight from Florida—”

  “Arizona hustlers. Blue hairs,�
�� Yoda said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah whatever. I just know they paid already, and when I heard Money Russ talk about eight figures? Oh yeah, I was in the right line of business.”

  With a scowl on his face Yoda said, “Do us both a favor, cuz; don’t use that man name when I’m talking to you. He’s all talk. A fat weasel dope-fiend.”

  “Okay, but I know this game is for me. I got to get it right. As for me, I’m tired of being abused by the system. A whole new world opened up to me since I came down here, and I can never go back to being a victim again. I’ve been hustled all my life. It’s my turn for payback, I’m tired of having it rough.”

  “Well, cuz, you can’t have no regrets, or feel bad about anything you do from here on out.” Yoda looked up to the vivid sky. The sun peaked through the cloudy dawn.

  While he was looking up, I asked, “So why you do what you do?”

  He looked me square in the eyes. “It all about the money for me. It’s about income, maintaining capital, and maximizing profits. This whole capitalistic system is set up where we each have individual liberties to exercise our desires. The sad part is our system failed the so-called minority that’s really the global majority. So we rebel in our own way, and do what the system was originally designed to do.”

  While scratching my head and gaining clarity, I said, “I never looked at it that way.”

  “Most don’t, cuz—most don’t. Look at the Kennedy’s, the Rothchilds, the Rockefellers, plus our president, Reagan, and the Bush family. They done jostled, pick-pocketed, long conned, short conned, and strong-armed more than any of us hustlers on the square ever did, or ever will do. You know the difference between them and us, cuz? They never say they got enough money. Never say they so called satisfied. Whatever that is. They got a license to con and rob entire countries, and we feed off of those who have—cause we the have-nots. Everybody want some form of power in they lives. But the only road for the hustler is to get rich, die trying, or live in the penitentiary. I done been there and done that, and when I left, I decided to take destiny into my own hands. This hustle changed my whole life.”

 

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