Hoodlum

by K'wan

  Shai almost moaned out loud, feeling the heat that Honey's walls radiated. Vaginal fluid ran down his shaft and balls as Honey tightened herself around his penis. They started out moving slow and rhythmically, then stepped it up to simultaneous thrusts. Shai was trying to get as deep as he could and she gladly accepted him. They both let out animal-like groans as they reached their climax. When it was over, they stood there staring at each other silently.

  CHAPTER 19

  EARLY MONDAY MORNING Scotty walked into a restaurant located in downtown Manhattan. He gave the hostess his name and followed her down the aisles to his table. When he reached the table he saw the man he was sent to meet with. He was a squat-looking white man with salt-and-pepper hair. His wire-rimmed glasses hung slightly off the bridge of his huge nose. The man was Arnold Green, GM for the Knicks.

  “Mr. Green,” Scotty said, extending his hand. “Martin Scott.”

  “Good to meet you,” said Green, shaking Scotty's hand. “Sit down, sit down.”

  “Thank you,” said Scotty, accepting the offer. “Again, I would like to thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

  “Not a problem.” Green waved him off. “Any friend of Sol Lansky is a friend of mine. Now, I got the e-mail about the little problem you were having. One of your people is having some kind of trouble with my staff?”

  “Actually, with you. The young man I’m coming to you about is James Tucker.”

  “That pervert? What about him?”

  “I’m here to ask you to reconsider letting him go through the full tryouts for the team. I’m not asking you to let him on the team just because. By all means, let him earn a spot like everyone else. I’m just asking that he gets a fair shake.”

  “Fair shake, my ass. He's a fucking degenerate. I know his track record. I heard about the last poor girl that he got knocked up and then he tries to pull it on my own blood. Fuck him.”

  “Mr. Green,” Scotty spoke softly. “I know that James has a checkered past, but I assure you that he is a good kid. I’m sure that if you would at least take this into consideration my employer, Thomas Clark, would be more than happy to return the favor.”

  “Thomas Clark?” Green asked, putting his fork down for the first time. “I should’ve known when I saw your black ass in that fifteen-hundred-dollar suit. I know about your employer. Poppa Clark is a drug dealer and a pimp. I’m not doing shit for Tucker.”

  “Mr. Green,” Scotty said, fighting for control. “I think you should weigh your options.”

  “I’m not doing shit. You think you can come in here and muscle Arnold Green? Let me tell you something, boy. I know people. Connected people. If you and your tribe think you can come down here and bust my balls, then go ahead and try. I don’t bend for fucking hoods. Get the fuck out of my face.”

  Scotty fought down the urge to lunge at the man and raised up from his seat. Green's bodyguard stared at him, but Scotty paid him no mind. He was more focused on the order he had to give. Poppa had told him to proceed at his own discretion and so he would. Green thought that he was a somebody, but Scotty intended to show him just how much of a fucking nobody he was.

  Scotty left the restaurant and hopped into the back of the rented limo that was waiting for him. He gave the driver the nod and they pulled off into traffic. When they had gotten a few blocks, Priest melted from the shadows opposite where Scotty was sitting.

  “Care to make a confession, my son?” Priest asked almost jokingly.

  “The meeting didn’t go well.”

  “A shame indeed. So what now?”

  “Here,” said Scotty, handing Priest a slip of paper. “This is the address. You know what to do?”

  “Yes. I think that when I’m done, Mr. Green will see things our way.” A broad smile crept across Priest's lips, causing Scotty's skin to crawl.

  Poppa sat in his private booth at the back of the Caribbean restaurant, quietly eating his oxtails. As always, Butch sat a stone's throw away to Poppa's right. Angelo sat across from him, picking at his chicken and speaking to Poppa in a hushed tone. He was relaying the details of the hit on Frost.

  “That boy has got issues,” Angelo explained.

  “Yeah,” Poppa chuckled. “Gator does OD a bit, but he gets results. Did anybody make you guys?”

  “Nah.” Angelo shook his head. “We popped him outside, then got in the wind. Gator did that boy rotten.”

  “Serves the little bastard right,” Poppa snapped. “Sneaky mutha fucka shouldn’t have gone against the grain.”

  Poppa and Angelo talked a little more about business and other things. Shortly into their conversation, a shadow appeared over Poppa's table. Butch was already on his feet, stepping between Poppa and the uninvited guest. Poppa smiled and waved Butch down.

  “You need to relax a little,” Mike said to Butch. “How ya doing, Poppa?”

  “I’m good, Mike. Have a seat,” Poppa offered.

  “Thanks,” Mike said, cramming himself into the booth next to Angelo. “I won’t take up too much of ya time. I just wanted to talk to you about Tommy.”

  “Oh.” Poppa raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”

  “Well, I think that he might be a little confused about some things. See, he seems to think that youz guys don’t wanna do business anymore. Now, 1 know this isn’t the case, so it struck me as kinda odd when he came at me. Let's not even talk about the fact that he was disrespectful.”

  “Is that right?” Poppa said nonchalantly. “To be honest with you, I had heard something about the unrest as of late. You have one version and Tommy has another. I understand that my son can be a little bullheaded, but I’m afraid that there's little I can do about it. As you’ve probably heard, I’m retiring soon. My street affairs wit! be left in Tommy's hands. Any disputes that you might have over your narcotics relations will have to be taken to Tommy. Anything else, Gee-Gee and I can discuss as we always have.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” Mike said seriously. “Tommy is being unreasonable. If he continues like this, there could be a problem.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” Poppa matched his tone. “Any complaints you have, Tommy is the one to address. If he chose to stop dealing with you, then I’m sure he had a reason. Your people and mine have always dealt with each other fairly and I hope we will continue to do so. It displeases me to hear of you and Tommy's falling out. Truly, it does. These things happen in the game. I’m sorry, Mike, but I’m afraid 1 can’t help you there.”

  “That's the way it's gonna be, Poppa?” Mike asked with ice in his voice.

  “Tommy is lord of the streets,” Poppa said, equally cold.

  The two men eyed each other and their entourages did the same. Nicky fingered his pistol and Butch did the same. Angelo had already drawn his P89 and had it trained on Mike's ribs. The feel of death loomed ever present near the table.

  “Okay,” Mike said, getting up. “You’re just as hardheaded as ya kid, but have it your way.” Mike walked from the restaurant, leaving Poppa and his peoples in silence.

  Bone strode into the Spanish restaurant feeling like he had just won the lotto. He knew it would only be a matter of time before an opportunity presented itself to exact revenge. Mike had laid a sweet deal out for him: total control of Poppa Clark's operations. Bone knew with the support of the Italians, taking down Poppa's crew would be that much easier. The tricky part would be taking Poppa out of the picture. This is what brought him to the Lower East Side in the first place.

  The man that Bone came down to see was already there when he arrived. Frog was a short Mexican with a shaved head. Frog ran a crew of vicious young cats from the Lower, and was respected as an up-and-coming player in the game. He also owed Bone a debt for avenging the death of his older brother, Big Frog.

  “What's up, homie?” Frog asked, giving Bone dap. “What brings you down this way?”

  “Got a little business I want to talk to you about, fam’.” Bone smiled. “Got a favor to ask. Something
's come up and I think you can help me out with it.”

  “If I can, I will. What's up?”

  “I need a nigga laid down,” Bone started. “Before you answer, let me tell you what I offer in return. An entire housing project of your own in Harlem, in addition to expanding your own operations in lower Manhattan.”

  “Who?” Frog said greedily.

  CHAPTER 20

  SHAI, Angelo, and Swan sat inside of Popeyes on 125th with a small crew of soldiers, eating chicken and talking shit. Swan was feeling on top of the world about his new promotion and Shai was just as happy as if he had been made. No one deserved it more than Swan. He had been a loyal soldier and a ruthless field sergeant.

  The young men wore smiles and dreamt of a bright future, while the soldiers wore grim death masks. By now the word had gotten out about Tommy severing ties with the Italians. It was a sensitive time in the streets and no one was sure what was going to happen.

  “The natives look restless,” Shai said, motioning toward the milling soldiers.

  “Yeah,” Swan said, sipping his soda. “Everyone wants to know what's going down. This could mean a war, son.”

  “You think so?” Shai asked.

  “Looks like it,” Angelo said flatly. “You know, you can’t tell your brother shit. Now I know what Poppa means about him being hardheaded.”

  “Yeah,” Shai agreed. “He be on some other shit sometimes, but that's just how Tommy is.” He shrugged.

  “I know and that's what scares me,” Swan cut in. “The dagos ain’t the only ones we gotta worry about. Without the Italians behind us, it's only gonna be a matter of time before the rest of these fool-ass niggaz start coming at us. There gonna be a lot of bloodshed, son. A whole lot.”

  Shai saw the look of concern on his friend's face. He was not a soldier himself, but he empathized with Swan. Swan had been hustling even before Poppa had put him on. The grind was all he had ever known. He thought that once he made lieutenant he could put down the gun and focus on getting money. That had all changed with the threat of war. Swan knew he would have to drop quite a few bodies, personally.

  “It’ll be all right,” Shai said, trying to comfort his friend.

  “Easy for you to say,” Swan chuckled. “When this shit pops off, you’ll be tucked safely in the mansion. We’re the ones that have to be out here ducking gunfire. Every mutha fucka with a team is gonna be gunning for our spot once the Italians pull out.”

  “What about if y’all tried to unify the crews into one consolidated front?” Shai asked.

  “Shit, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Angelo said, scratching his chin. “But there's no way Tommy's gonna go for that. He wants all or nothing.”

  “Damn, why don’t y’all go to Poppa with it?”

  “Yeah, right.” Angelo chuckled. “And look like turncoats or little bitches to Tommy? Don’t think so. Besides, Poppa's backing his play. Tommy's the boss.”

  “This shit is crazy,” Shai said, pacing. “I agree with my brother wanting to break from the Italians, but I don’t agree with his methods. Everything has been cool for years, now we’re going to war. Somebody's gotta do something.”

  “Shai,” Swan said in a whisper. “We’re lieutenants, but we ain’t really Clarks. We got say-so over certain things, but Tommy is theboss.Period. If he declares war, no matter how selfish or stupid the reason, we gotta ride out.”

  “This is some bullshit. I’m gonna talk to Poppa.”

  “That's what we’ve been getting at all along,” Angelo said seriously. “We know you ain’t no solider, Shai, but you’re Poppa's kid. If he sees you taking a more active roll in things, he's gotta hear you out.”

  “I can try and talk to him, but I really ain’t for this shit,” Shai protested.

  “Shai, we ain’t asking you to kill nobody,” Swan assured him. “All we want you to do is try to bring some reasoning to the table. You’ve got clout that not even me and Angelo carry. The crew needs a more direct voice, son. You can act as a buffer between the soldiers and the bosses. Be the voice of reason to your hotheaded brother.”

  “You think Poppa and Tommy are gonna listen to me?”

  “If we back you, they will,” Angelo said confidently. “I’m just as loyal to this family as Swan, but I’m not real comfortable dying over some petty-ass beef between Tommy and Mike. And that's just what this shit is, petty!”

  Before the trio could get any deeper into the conversation, Honey walked in, followed by Paula and Stacy. Shai's heart immediately began to pound, seeing her. His mind replayed their night of lustful sex and he could feel the erection coming on. He quickly regained his composure, not wanting to play himself in front of the troops.

  “What's good, ma?” he asked, flashing his bad-boy smile and stroking her cheek.

  “What's up, superman?” she joked.

  “Listen . . . about that..

  “No need to say anything,” she said, placing her finger over his lips. “I can’t work that spot anymore, but it was worth it. Besides, I’ll let you make it up to me.”

  “Oh, he)! no,” a voice called from behind Shai. He hoped hisears were playing tricks on him, but he knew they weren’t. “I know this nigga ain’t trying to play me,” Jane continued. She was standing there with two of her friends, looking like a Triple Crown book cover. She was wearing a shirt that was too small to hide her slight potbelly and a knockoff Versace skirt. To cap it off, she had on a pair of suede boots that had to be roasting her feet. Jane always had a ghetto-ass mentality, but that day she looked the part.

  Shai clenched his jaw at the sound of Jane's voice. There was no mistake in her tone that she was about to play herself. Jane was a tack head that Shai had made the mistake of getting involved with back in high school. Like most hood bitches, Shai found out that she was a headache and stopped dealing with her. This didn’t stop her from harassing him whenever she got the chance. Jane just couldn’t seem to get over the fact that Shai wasn’t fucking with her like that. He was hardly in the mood for one of her flip sessions. He was trying to get at Honey and he didn’t need Jane coming out of her face.

  “Shai,” Jane said, snaking, popping her gum. “How you gonna even do me like this? A bitch trying to be good to you, and you creeping with this ho?”

  “Ho?” Honey said, looking Jane up and down. “No this bitch didn’t.”

  “I got ya bitch right here,” Jane said, pulling off her earrings.

  “Oh, shit!” one soldier cried out.

  “You gon let her clown you?” another soldier chimed in.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Shai said, stepping between them. “Jane, why don’t you be easy?”

  “Fuck you mean be ‘easy’?” Jane snapped. “This bitch is all up on you and I’m supposed to be easy?”

  “Shai,” Honey said, annoyed. “Who is this little girl?”

  “Honey, don’t pay her no mind. She's just some tack head I made the mistake of getting involved with back in the day,” he assured her.

  “Tack head?” Jane snaked her neck again. “No the fuck you didn’t. Shai, you need to stop stunting for your little jump-off, and act like you know.”

  “Bitch”—Paula stepped up, palming her razor—”you keep bumping your fucking gums and you gonna get what you’re asking for.”

  “Jump if you want to, ho,” Jane said, staring Paula down. “Shai, if you’re finished talking to these lil’ heifers, I need to holla at you.”

  “We ain’t got nothing to talk about,” Shai said, looping his arm around Honey's waist. “You see me wit’ my shorty, so kick rocks.”

  Jane was lucky Shai stepped in when he did. Honey was about two seconds away from letting Paula scar her. She played her position though, leaning back into Shai's arms and staring Jane down. She could tell, by the look on the girl's face, that she was mad enough to try something. But mad didn’t make her stupid.

  “It's like that, Shai?” Jane sucked her teeth.

  “ ‘Bye, Jane,” he said, kissing H
oney on the cheek.

  Jane looked at the two of them as if she couldn’t believe he’d chosen her. She started to cause a scene, but figured that it wouldn’t change anything. Shai would get tired of the blonde and come in search of her bomb head. And when he did, she would be waiting with open arms.

  As Jane was exiting the chicken spot, Swan taunted, “I still love you, Jane.”

  Angelo followed up with, “What you doing later? I got a whole dollar, and I’m dying to spend half with you.”

  The whole spot burst into a fit of laughter. Jane just put her head down and left. Once again, Shai had made her feel like shit. You’d think she’d be used to it by then.

  Shai and Honey stood off from the crew, talking and enjoying each other's company. He whispered softly to her, while playing with her hair. They looked like two starstruck kids. Everyone looked on, surprised, ‘cause it wasn’t Shai's way to show affection publicly. This went on for about ten minutes, before Shai kissed Honey on the cheek and went to rejoin his awestruck crew.

  “I’ve seen it all now.” Angelo whistled.

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Shai asked defensively.

  “Nigga, you’re in love!”

  “Fuck outta here. I don’t love them hoes,” Shai joked.

  “Well, you’re feeling the shit out of that one,” Swan cut in.

  “Y’all niggaz don’t know what you’re talking about. Shorty is mad cool, but I wouldn’t call it love.”

  “Whatever, young’n,” Angelo pushed him playfully. “Just be careful with that one.”