by K'wan
It was then that she remembered a conversation Tiffany and Fire Bug had had while pillow talking. Tiffany had told her all about it. In a moment of foolishness, Fire Bug had boasted to Tiffany about a hit he and Big Money were a part of in Harlem. The hit was supposed to be on a dude Pam used to sleep with named King James, but it went wrong, and a kid was killed as a result. King James had offered cash to anyone with information about who was behind the hit, and that was where Pam saw her opening. To get back at Big Money, she dropped a dime to King James about Big Money’s involvement in the hit. She did it more to be petty than to get the reward. It wasn’t until after she heard that Big Money had been killed that she realized the seriousness of what she had done. That was when she decided that it might be best for her to get low until things blew over.
Tiffany had teased her about hiding out at her sister’s house. King James’s right-hand man Lakim had assured them that they had nothing to fear, but Pam didn’t trust this. Tiffany was young and didn’t know any better, but Pam understood men like King James and how they operated. Even if Lakim had been being truthful, she didn’t see any need to tempt fate.
Outside of Tiffany, the only other person who even had an idea where she was staying was her weed man. Pam refused to smoke anything other than Purple Haze, and there was none in her sister’s neighborhood. Though it may not have been the wisest move, she had hit her weed man up the night before and had had him make a delivery. It was only once, and Pam had met him five blocks from her sister’s house, so even if someone did press him about her whereabouts, all he would be able to say for sure was that she was somewhere in the Bronx. Still, she’d had an uneasy feeling in her gut ever since meeting up with him.
She had learned a long time ago to follow her instincts, so with this in mind, she packed a few things in her bag and left her sister’s house. She headed to the train station, where she was going to catch the number two train to the Port Authority. Once there, she would board a bus that would take her to Connecticut. A dude she had been seeing had an apartment in Bridgeport, and he wouldn’t mind her crashing there so long as he could get his dick sucked whenever he liked.
She was heading up the street toward the train station when her phone rang. It was her girl, Tiffany. “What’s up, bitch?”
“Ain’t nothing. About to head to the laundry.” She paused. “Your ass still hiding in the Bronx?” Tiffany asked.
“I ain’t hiding. I’m just staying out of the way,” Pam said, correcting her. “If you were smart, you’d do the same.”
“I been at my cousin’s house on Dyckman, but I been through the hood a few times, and everything is quiet. I even seen Dee the other night, and he acted like nothing was wrong. You’re worried over nothing.”
“Whatever you say, Tiff,” Pam replied, brushing her off. She was still walking and talking when she noticed a green Ford Explorer coasting alongside her. She flipped her hair and threw on her sunglasses. The last thing she had time for was entertaining some thirsty Bronx nigga who was trying to get her number.
“Yo, Pam, what’s good?” a familiar voice called from the SUV. She almost shit her pants when she saw Lakim behind the wheel.
Pam contemplated running, but she was in the middle of a long block. Lakim would surely be on her before she made it to either end. Choking down her heart, which was trying to escape her chest, Pam smiled and played it cool. “Hey, La! What you doing way up here?” She dropped her phone into her bag but kept Tiffany on the line. She wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I’m coming from picking up some work, but I could ask you the same. Ain’t seen you on the block in a minute.” Lakim eyed her.
“Oh . . . I got this new job, and it doesn’t allow me much time to hang out. I’m actually on my way to work now,” Pam lied.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride,” Lakim offered.
“No thanks. I work all the way in White Plains. I don’t wanna put you out of your way.” Pam attempted to cross the street, but Lakim cut her off with the SUV.
“Nonsense. Get in, and I’ll at least give you a ride to the train station.” It was more of a command than an offer.
Seeing that she had little choice, Pam climbed in the Explorer. It wasn’t until they had pulled out into traffic that she noticed Lakim wasn’t alone. There was a young dude in the backseat who had a familiar face, but Pam didn’t know his name. She had seen him on the block only a time or two.
“Hey,” she said, trying to break the ice, but the young man didn’t respond. Something wasn’t right. She only hoped Tiffany hadn’t hung up.
“So, besides working, what you been up to?” Lakim asked.
“Nothing much. Just trying to stay out of the way,” Pam told him, trying to keep her voice steady. She then noticed that they had blown past the train station. “Hey, you missed my stop!”
“I know, and I’ll spin you back. I got something I need to holla at you about real quick,” Lakim told her. He continued driving until they found an isolated block, where he pulled over and killed the engine. “I know by now you heard what happened to your boy, Big Money.”
“I told you, I’ve been working. I haven’t had a lot of time to see what’s going on in the hood,” Pam lied.
Lakim gave her a look. “C’mon, Pam. You and I both know you keep your ear to the ground no matter where you rest your head. Don’t insult my intelligence.”
“Listen, La, I ain’t trying to get no deeper into this shit than I already am. I don’t know nothing and don’t wanna know nothing, so if you’re worried about me opening my mouth—”
“Is that what you think this is about?” Lakim said, cutting her off. “C’mon, Pam. How long have we known each other? Of all the bitches in the hood, I know you’re solid. You running your mouth is the last thing I’m worried about. It’s your girl Tiffany that I’m worried about.”
“Tiffany ain’t gonna say shit, either. She’s solid, La,” Pam insisted.
“Just the same, I’d like to hear it out of her mouth.”
“If you want, I can give you her phone number,” Pam offered.
“I was thinking we could have a face-to-face conversation. You don’t have to come with me to her house or anything. Just tell me where she stays,” Lakim said.
“La, please. Don’t make me do this,” Pam pleaded. Pam knew that because of her friendship with Lakim, she at least had a chance to talk her way out of this, but Tiffany would have no such luck.
Lakim turned to her. “Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Now, you can either give me your homegirl’s address or—”
Bang!
There was a deafening roar in the car. Lakim’s eyes winked closed only seconds before Pam’s brains and hair splattered on him and the dashboard. He turned around in wide-eyed shock to see Genesis holding a smoking gun.
“What the fuck? I wasn’t done questioning her!” He wiped blood from his eyes with the back of his shirtsleeve.
“Like you said, the bitch is solid. Wasn’t no way she was going to give her friend up,” Genesis said.
“I guess we’ll never know now, huh? Stupid . . . just fucking stupid.” Lakim shook his head. “You’re gonna clean this fucking car and dump it too.”
“I told you, whatever this crew needs, I’m all in.”
CHAPTER 22
By the time Keith and Ulysses arrived back at the house, Keith was good and buzzed. There were dozens of people gathered at the Savage house. Cars filled the driveway and spilled over onto the road leading to the house. Keith was quietly impressed by the turnout for Big Money’s funeral, as he knew the man had never been very well liked. He wondered how many had come to pay their respects and how many were there just to join the war party Big John was trying to form.
Keith walked into the house to find it crawling with people. A few of his wayward family members greeted him warmly, while others just stared, as if he had shown up to borrow money. He hadn’t seen some of these people in years, if ever, so he couldn’t imagine what he co
uld have done to them. Keith ignored the mixed signals and continued his search for Maxine. He couldn’t let go of what Darla had told him, and wanted to have a word with his sister.
In the thick of the gathering, he found his little brother, Bug. Bug had combed his hair for once and was dressed in a fire engine–red suit. It was hardly appropriate for a funeral, but at least he had tried. As the boy got closer, Keith noticed a bruise under his eye.
“What happened to you? Did that sucker Beau do that to you after I left the Quarter?” Keith asked angrily. That would’ve been all the excuse he needed to go back down there and stomp his rival.
“I didn’t get this from Beau. Me and Anthony got into it today.”
“Y’all were as thick as thieves last night. What changed in the past couple of hours?” Keith wanted to know.
“Just some bullshit. No big deal,” Bug said, but his tone let Keith know that he was lying.
“C’mon. Spill it.” Keith nudged him.
“We got into a fight over you.”
“Me? What do I have to do with you two fighting?”
“Well, people have been talking lately,” Bug began in a heavy tone. “They’re saying that you ain’t planning to ride with us on Big Money’s killers . . . that you ain’t a Savage no more. I told them that’s bullshit and there’s no way Killer would turn tail on a fight, but they kept talking shit . . . calling you soft. When Anthony joined in with the bullshit, I hit him, and that’s how we started fighting.”
“Bug, people are always gonna talk. Fuck them and their opinions. What’s important about a man is his character, not people’s opinions of him, feel me?”
“I feel you, Killer. I told them they were wrong about you, but maybe they’ll respect it more coming from you.” He gave a sigh. “Tell them muthafuckas you down to ride, same as always,” Bug urged him.
“It isn’t that simple, Bug. I agree that the men who were involved in Big Money’s death need to feel some justice, but not in the way Big John is planning. If they ride off into New York like a bunch of cowboys, the end result will be us burying more Savages in the family plot. We need to—”
“It’s true, ain’t it?” Bug said, cutting him off. “I heard Mama talking shit about you having changed, but I always thought it was Mama just being bitter. You’ve really turned your back on us.”
“Bug, let me explain.” Keith reached for his brother’s arm, but Fire Bug jerked away.
“You ain’t gotta explain nothing to me, Keith. I see we ain’t on the same side of the line no more,” Bug spat before walking out the front door.
Keith started to go after Bug but decided against it. Bug had a hot temper, and pressing the issue at that point would probably make it worse. He would wait until he cooled off, and then he would talk to him again. The idea of Bug being in the streets and following in his family’s footsteps troubled Keith more than anything else that was going on. In a sense, he felt like he had failed his little brother. Had he bothered to come back home sooner and to offer his brother some sort of guidance, then maybe Fire Bug wouldn’t have turned out the way he did. Keith accepted that and would do what he could to fix it. He just hoped there would be time for him to get through to Fire Bug before he ended up like so many of the Savage men—dead or in prison.
Across the room, Keith spotted his mother. She was sitting in a chair, while his brother Dickey kneeled in front of her while she struggled to fix his bow tie. Wearing a black dress and a shawl, her silver hair done up in big curls, she looked more the kindly old grandmother she should be than the snake that she was. He didn’t feel good about the way things had ended between them that morning. He might not have liked what she had to say, but she was still his mother, and he had been very harsh with her. He was standing there, contemplating whether to say something to her or avoid her until after the funeral, when Dickey robbed him of the choice.
“Over here, Killer!” Dickey shouted across the room, waving his thick arms in the air to make sure Keith saw him.
Keith crossed the room and hugged his older brother warmly. This time Dickey didn’t snatch him off his feet. The brothers broke their embrace. Then Keith’s eyes went to his mother, whom he had felt watching him the whole time. “Mama,” he greeted her.
“Killer,” she responded dryly.
“Can you help me with this, Killer?” Dickey waggled the two loose ends of the bow tie, which neither he nor his mother could seem to figure out.
“I told you to wear a regular tie or a clip-on, but your ass wanna dress up like a butler,” Ma commented.
“Clip-ons are for babies, and bow ties are for gentlemen. I’m a gentleman,” Dickey said proudly. “Say, Killer, you know who else wears bow ties?”
“Who?” Keith asked, as if he didn’t already know what his brother was going to say.
“Sammy Davis Jr. He’s my favorite actor, ya know?”
“I know.” Keith smiled.
Years ago, their mother had taken Dickey to see Sammy Davis Jr. perform. This was not long before the legendary entertainer passed away. Dickey had found himself smitten with the charismatic icon’s style. Ever since then he had always tried to imitate Sammy Davis Jr., opting to wear bow ties whenever the opportunity to dress up presented itself. His fascination with Sammy Davis Jr. was one of the things Dickey’s brain had seemed to retain after the shooting. Keith tied Dickey’s bow tie for him, then smoothed it over with his fingers.
Keith studied his work. “There you go.”
“Thanks, Killer.” Dickey looked at the tie proudly.
“Dickey, why don’t you go and fetch ya mama a drink? I’m feeling a bit parched,” Ma said.
“Sure thing, Mama.” Dickey skipped off across the living room.
“Looking at that poor fool, you’d never know he was the mastermind of over a dozen bank robberies.” Ma shook her head sadly, remembering the man her son once was.
“And God knows how many check-cashing spots,” Keith added. “Do you remember the time Dickey wanted to rob that mail-carrier plane for those postal money orders?”
“Shit, yeah, I remember. My Dickey has come up with some crazy ideas over the years, but that one took the cake,” Ma replied.
“It actually wasn’t a bad plan. Stash himself on the plane, rip them off while they were in the air, and then fly off like a superhero.” Keith made a swooshing motion with his hand. “Only thing that stopped him was the fact that nobody in the hood knew how to get hold of a parachute.” He chuckled. “Do you think he’d have really gone through with it?”
“Knowing Dickey . . . absolutely. He was fearless, same as all my boys. One thing none of my children lack is heart,” Ma said proudly.
Keith took a seat in the chair next to his mother. “Mama, about last night. I owe you an apology.”
“For speaking your mind? No you don’t. I’d rather you have gotten it off your chest than hold it in and let it fester. I think we both needed to get some things off our chests, and I’m glad we did.”
“Still, I was a little harsh in my delivery, and I’m sorry. I never meant to disrespect you,” Keith said.
“Thank you for that, Killer . . . I mean Keith.”
For a long while, the mother and son sat in silence. They watched the various branches of their family tree move about the house. They all wore different faces and had different personalities, but they were bound by one common thread. They were Savages. Keith had once been so proud of that name, but what it now represented to him filled his heart with dread.
“Looks like Big John has got his army,” Keith observed, finally breaking their silence.
“Seems so,” she agreed.
“Can you imagine how powerful we could be if we banded together for good things like we do when it’s time to put in work?” Keith reflected.
“We?” Ma gave him a look. “I thought you wasn’t a Savage anymore?”
“I guess I can’t escape from myself,” Keith replied, alluding to her warning from that morning. Though
Keith hated to admit it, his mother was right. He may not be able to run from his family legacy, but he shouldn’t have to. He was the son of a Savage, but he was still his own man.
“So all of a sudden you’re down for the family cause again?” Ma asked suspiciously. She fished her pack of cigarettes from her bra and tapped one out.
Keith shrugged. “I don’t know about the cause, but I’m always gonna be down for my family. This is why I need you to stop this before we lose anyone else.”
“You know I can’t let the men who killed Big Money just walk away.” She lit the cigarette.
“I know you can’t, Mama. I’m just thinking maybe we can find another way to handle this. A way that doesn’t cost us any more Savage blood. Today we’re burying Big Money. Tomorrow maybe it’ll be John or, God forbid, even Fire Bug, because if this goes down, you know he isn’t going to ride the bench. Your baby boy is gonna be right in the thick of this shit. Is that something you can live with?”
Ma didn’t answer immediately. She sat there smoking her cigarette and looking over the sea of Savage faces. There was truth to what Keith had said. Big John’s assault on New York was sure to be a bloody one, and there would be no shortage of casualties. However, if the family didn’t react in true Savage fashion, they would be looked at as soft, and that wasn’t something that appealed to Ma. But the thought of more of her boys dying on the front line was less appealing. “You think you know a better way to deal with this?”
“Honestly, no. But I’m willing to try to figure one out.”
“I’ll speak to Big John.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. Big John ain’t gonna like the idea of not going to war, and I can’t guarantee that he’ll call it off. All I can do is promise you that I’ll do what I can to avoid him riding into New York with an army of Savages.” She got up and walked away.
