Hoodlum

by K'wan

  “Shai, this ain’t you.” Scotty shook his head. “These people are gangsters. This ain’t your war.”

  “I want in,” Shai said. “You can’t deny me this.”

  “Shai, I can’t let you do this. Poppa wouldn’t allow it.”

  “I want in,” he repeated. “He was my father. I want the mutha fuckas who did this to pay for it. I want in.”

  “You think this is a fucking game?” Scotty said heatedly. “Poppa was just murdered, Shai. He was untouchable and they got him. War ain’t no fucking joke. Stay in a child's place.”

  “I’m so sick of this kid shit,” Shai barked. “I might not be a badass killer like Tommy, but I can hold mine. My father was killed yesterday. Killed because of this senseless shit. If you think I’m gonna sit by and do nothing, you’re crazy.” Shai stormed out of the room.

  “Shai,” Swan called after him.

  “Let him go,” Scotty said. “We’ll handle this until he can get it together.”

  Shai sat in his father's office, punishing a bottle of gin. Normally, he didn’t drink but lately his life seemed anything but normal. As he looked around the office, he was reminded of his father. Shai tried to hold it, but the tears made their way down his face.

  “Shai,” Swan called from the doorway. “You a’ight?”

  “I’m good.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m good.”

  “Listen . . . I’m sorry about Poppa. We’ll all miss him.”

  “This shit is fucked up.” Shai banged his fist on the desk. “My father is gone and I’m supposed to just chill? Get the fuck outta here. I gotta do something, Swan.”

  “Shai,” Swan leaned in, “I love your brother. He's my leader and my friend. But you’re my heart. We’ve been down since shorties. I can’t tell you what to do, but if you’re determined to roll, I’m with you.”

  Shai gave his friend a brief smile. He was glad to know that Swan was with him. He was ready to do what he had to do to get revenge, but he knew nothing of war. Swan was seasoned.

  “Thank you, my nigga,” Shai sobbed. “We gotta hit the streets and find out what happened and who was involved. I ain’t going out like this. When the time comes, I’m gonna lay my hammer game down.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” Gator said, strolling into the office. “Y’all niggaz in New York don’t know nothing about killing. You think I’m gonna let my cuz run off into the streets without an expert at his side? Whatever y’all niggaz is up to, count me in.”

  The three young men stood there and looked at each other. They were all from different backgrounds, but they had a common bond: love for Poppa Clark. This bond would now become their purpose, to lay Poppa's killers in a hole beside his.

  “Do you see this shit?” Gee-Gee ranted, waving a copy of the Daily News. “Do you see what you’ve caused?”

  “I did what I had to do, Mr. G,” Mike told him. “You said if I had a good reason, then I could move against Poppa. So I did.”

  “You fucking whale,” Gee-Gee said, grabbing Mike by his tie. “These niggers are destroying the City. Don Cissarro is having a shit fit behind this thing.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mike said, trying not to appear as afraid as he really was. “The don will understand.”

  “Understand?” Gee-Gee laughed. “Mike, you acted on your own and killed the most notorious black gangster in Harlem. Heads will roll for this.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. G. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

  “Easier said than done.” Gee-Gee chuckled. “You murdered their don. Even flying under the Cissarro banner, you think they’re not gonna try you?”

  “Fuck ‘em,” Mike said, smoothing his shirt. “Can’t no niggaz compete with our thing.”

  “‘Our thing’ ain’t got nothing to do with this.” Gee-Gee shook his head. “You acted on your own, so this is your problem.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Mike huffed.

  “I sure hope so. You either make this right, or you’ve got a fucking problem. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “You heard what happened to Poppa?” Lucius asked.

  “Who the hell hasn’t?” Leon replied. “The whole hood is talking about it. Looks like the Clark empire is crumbling, huh?”

  “Seems like it.” Lucius rubbed his hands together. “Ain’t you glad I got you in with Bone?”

  “Yeah.” Leon nodded, not really sure. “But what if we’re making a mistake?”

  “What mistake? Poppa is dead and Tommy is crippled, and about to be indicted. The Clark legacy is over.”

  CHAPTER 27

  “TELL ME YOU’RE LYING,” Ahmad said, slapping his hand against his forehead. “My little bother couldn’t be that stupid.”

  “Yes he is,” Tammy said, clicking her gum. “We was downtown the other day and he ran up on Shai. Shai was trying to dead it, but Rah just kept talking. That's when Shai left and Poppa got murdered.”

  “Thanks, Tammy,” Ahmad said, handing her a hundred-dollar bill. “If you hear anything else, you bring it directly to me. Understand?”

  “Yeah,” she said, taking the money. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Ahmad made sure that Tammy had completely gone before throwing a tantrum. He smashed a lamp and kicked over his living room television in a rage. If the murder could be linked to them, they had a serious problem, all thanks to his dumb-ass brother. Bone's team was strong, but they would be slaughtered by the Clarks. This shit was getting ugly real fast. Bone wasn’t going to take the news well.

  Ahmad began to panic as he thought of his brother on the streets without him. There was no doubt that word of his brother's conversation with Shai had already gotten back to the Clarks. There were probably killers combing the streets at that very moment. He needed to get to his bother, but he had no idea where he was. This was why he always got on him about not carrying a cell phone.

  Ahmad grabbed his jacket and his gun and headed for the door. Bone was traveling with soldiers, so he was protected, but the same couldn’t have been said for Rah. Ahmad had to reach his brother.

  Rah sat on the stoop with two other knuckleheads, shooting the breeze and looking at ladies. It was a fairly nice night, so there were plenty of them out. Rah passed the bottle off to his man Randy while he perused a big-butt female.

  “Miss,” he called after her. “Come on, don’t even act like that.” When she still didn’t stop, Rah got nasty, “Fuck you then, bitch!”

  Rah and his peoples fell down laughing. Rah poked his chest out and headed back to where his friends were sitting. He gave them dap and felt like the man for his public display of ignorance. He was feeling himself so much that he didn’t even notice the shadows closing in on him. By the time anyone noticed, Gator was right on top of them.

  “What's up, fellas?” He smiled. The three men sat there in shock as Gator pulled two nines and began hitting the stoop. They tried to run, but it was already too late. Bullets shook the young men and mingled blood with the urine and other soot on the stoop.

  Rah took off running in the other direction. He figured himself lucky for not taking a bullet, but it was all part of the plan. He had made it about a half block when someone stepped out and clothes- lined him. Rah nearly backflipped from the impact. He lay on the floor clutching his neck and gasping for breath. When Rah tried to get up, Swan placed a boot on his chest and a gun to his head.

  “What up, pussy?” Swan smirked.

  “Chill, yo,” Rah pleaded. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Don’t play wit’ us, nigga,” Gator said, kicking him in the head. “You know just what the fuck is going on. Get yo’ ass up.” He grabbed Rah by the shirt and lifted him to his feet.

  “Don’t kill me,” Rah cried.

  “We ain’t gonna kill you, yet,” Swan told him. “Somebody wants to see you.”

  “Who?”

  No sooner than he asked the question, a stretched Lincoln pulled to a stop on the curb. Gator opened the back d
oor and pushed Rah inside. He stumbled and fell at someone's feet. When he looked up to see who it was, he found himself staring at an angry Shai.

  “ ‘Sup, nigga?” Shai asked.

  “Shai, man,” Rah said, crawling to his knees. “What's this all about?”

  “I told you to stop playing,” Gator said, easing in beside him, followed by Swan.

  “I don’t know why y’all snatched me,” Rah confessed.

  “I think you do,” Shai said, giving the driver the nod to pull off. “You laid hands on my family, you fucking punk.” Shai punched Rah in the nose. Blood splattered on Shai's dress shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “I didn’t have nothing to do with that,” Rah cried.

  “Oh, yeah?” Shai questioned. “You seemed to be pretty fucking involved the other day.” Shai punched him again. “Who gave the order to kill my father?”

  “I don’t know,” Rah lied.

  “Swan.” Shai raised an eyebrow. Swan took a box cutter from his pocket and slashed Rah across his forearm. “Last time,” Shai warned him, totally ignoring his scream. “Who gave the order?”

  “It was the Italians,” Rah whimpered. “Promised us a piece of the pie if we took y’all down.”

  “Is that so?” Shai hit him again. “You gunned my father down in the streets”—a blow to the jaw—”that's a’ight though. You’re going to serve as a warning to all these bitch-ass niggaz out here. Ain’t nothing soft about the Clarks. Gator!”

  “You ain’t even gotta ask me twice.” Gator grabbed Rah by the back of the head and forced his face into the back of the driver's seat. Rah tried to plead, but nothing could be heard over the sounds of Gator's hammer barking.

  Ahmad had been combing the streets for his brother for hours, but there was no sign of him. He cut down 188th and Broadway, but slowed up when he saw all the police on the block. Some people had been killed before he got there. He feared the worst, but a girl he knew confirmed that none of them was Rah.

  Ahmad turned around and went back the other way. He had searched everywhere, but couldn’t get a lead on where his brother might be. Ahmad put one foot in the street, but jumped back when the Lincoln came speeding around the corner. The back door opened and someone pushed a body out. The corpse came to a rolling stop at Ahmad's feet. He looked down and almost fainted at the sight of what was left of his little brother.

  Bone held the cell phone to his ear in disbelief. He just nodded dumbly while Ahmad raged on the other end. Bone told him where they would rendezvous and ended the call. He looked at his bodyguards and sighed.

  “Trouble?” Rudy asked. He was a thick man who sported a handlebar mustache.

  “They hit Rah,” Bone said sadly. Although Ahmad and Tracy's younger brother had been a pain in the ass, Bone never wished harm on him. He didn’t know how he was going to tell his son's mother that her little brother had been murdered.

  “So it begins,” Justice said, rubbing his salt-and-pepper beard. He was the old head of their crew and more of the thinker. “The Clarks know we were in on the hit. Now what?”

  “I tell you one thing,” Bone said, heading for his car. “I ain’t gonna make myself a target out here. Let's go get Ahmad and rollback to the spot.” Just as Bone reached for his car keys, a black Hummer wheeled around the corner. Bone and his team watched in amazement as Fritz came up through the sunroof holding two Mac lis.

  “MUTHA FUCKAS!” Fritz screamed as he applied pressure to the triggers. The night sky lit up with muzzle flashes and explosions of lead. Fritz swept the Macs in a crisscrossed pattern, trying to lay everything on the block down.

  Bone happened to be standing right next to his car. He dove to the ground, just barely escaping the storm that splattered the young man coming out of the bodega. The young man spun left to right, before finally backflipping. Fritz howled in frustration and emptied one of the Mac clips into Bone's car.

  Justice drew his weapon and fired on Fritz. The bullet hit him in the arm, sending one of the Macs flying into the streets. In the very next motion, Fritz drew his Glock and started letting off. Justice took a bullet in the stomach and went down. Hearing the police sirens in the distance, the Hummer pulled off.

  Bone's heart was beating at a hundred miles a minute. The boy from the bodega stared at him with dead eyes, while Justice squirmed and moaned and gurgled blood. Death surrounded him everywhere he turned. He knew that the situation had become serious. Bone could either lay low till it all blew over, or he could counter. He chose to counter.

  “Turn this mutha fucka around,” Fritz barked at Angelo. “That nigga is still breathing. Turn this bitch around, Angie.”

  “Nigga, be cool,” Angelo snapped. “Police gonna be all up out this bitch in a hot minute. You bleeding all over this mutha fucka and a smoking gun is gonna look kinda funny. We’ll get another crack at that mutha fucka. Watch and see, dawg.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “WHAT THE FUCK W£R£ you thinking?” Scotty questioned the trio. “What gives you little mutha fuckas business to execute anybody?”

  “The right of my father's murder,” Shai barked. “I’m not gonna sit for this shit.”

  “Shai, this is not for you. People are going to die in this war. I don’t want you to end up on the slab or in the pen. Why can’t you just fall back?”

  “Falling back is not an option,” Shai said coolly. “The bottom line is this: My father was murdered and my brother will probably never walk again, if he happens to live through his injuries. Scotty, you’ve been a dear friend to my family for a great many years, but you’re not a Clark. As of this moment, I am officially assuming control of my father's family. This includes bringing his killers to justice. Now, you can stay on and help us pull this off, or you can leave. The choice is yours, Martin.”

  Scotty couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked to the other lieutenants for support, but found none. They all backed Shai.He threw his hands up in mock surrender. He always knew there was a touch of Poppa lingering beneath Shai's surface, but now he was seeing it firsthand.

  As Shai and Gator were heading out the front door, Sol was coming in. He had bags under his eyes from the last few trying days. He had been helping Scotty handle all of Poppa's business. From funeral arrangements, to his investments. Tommy might’ve been the head of the Clark family, but Sol had established himself as the pillar.

  “Hey, Shai,” Sol said, shaking his hand. “How you doing?”

  “Just trying to put my father's affairs in order,” he said. “As of this moment, I’m taking control of the family. I’ll be running things until my father's killers are brought to justice.”

  “Do you think that's the reasonable thing to do?” Sol asked.

  “Sol, reason flew out the window when the first shot was fired. These people don’t understand reason, so I will speak to them in a language they do. Now, will you help me make things right, or try to give me a speech like Scotty did?”

  “You know me”—Sol raised his hands in surrender—”whatever is best for the family. You have my support, Shai.”

  “Thank you, Sol. The next order of business is to gather all of my father's business associates together and deal with the casino. I want the project to continue as planned.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” Sol gave him a half smile. “That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. Can you come back in the office for a second?”

  Shai looked at Gator, who simply shrugged and kept going out the front door. Shai followed Sol down the hallway to Poppa's office. When he got there, Scotty was already seated with Phil and Antonio, going over some paperwork. Shai was suddenly very confused.

  “Come on in, Shai.” Sol waved to him. “We’ve got some things to discuss.”

  “What's going on?” Shai asked, taking a seat off to the right.

  “Why don’t you sit at the head of the table, Shai,” Scotty suggested.

  Shai was still a little confused, but he did as he was asked. Once Shai was in
the proper seat, Scotty continued, “Shai, I know this is a tough time for you, but we need to discuss your father's business holdings.”

  “What's to talk about?” Shai asked. “I figure if Tommy lives, everything goes to him.I‘m just the stand-in.”

  “Not so, Shai,” Sol cut in. “Not long before your father was murdered, he had a meeting with Scotty and me. In this meeting, Thomas Clark named one Shai Clark as his successor.”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” Shai said in disbelief. “Why would he have done a fool thing like that? I don’t know shit about how to run a business.”

  “This is the way the old man wanted it, kid,” Scotty explained. “Nobody knows why he did it like this, but he did. He was very clear on that point.”

  “This is too much,” Shai said, slumping in the chair. “My father built his empire from the ground up. He knew the ins and outs of everything. I’d probably just fuck it up.”

  “Shai, you wouldn’t be alone.” Sol patted his hand. “Scotty and me will be with you all the way. You can do this, Shai. Your father wouldn’t have entrusted this to you if he didn’t feel he could. Congratulations.”

  Each of the men nodded and wished Shai well. He looked out over the gathered faces and wondered why. Once again, Poppa had pulled a rabbit out of his hat. He had divided his kingdom between his two sons, giving Shai domain over the heavens and Tommy the earth. This was an unexpected twist for Shai, but it changed things considerably.

  The day of Poppa's funeral was a major event. People came from everywhere to salute the fallen king. They laid Poppa out in a pear! white casket with gold handles. People were sobbing and fallingout, but Shai held his composure. It's not that he wasn’t sad, but he knew that he had to show strength.

  Honey sat at Shai's side, holding his hand. She hadn’t known Poppa that well, but she felt it only right to pay her respects. She hadn’t intended on sitting up front, but Shai insisted. Even though she hadn’t been up front with Shai about the Tommy situation, he had managed to forgive her. He wouldn’t admit it, but Shai was falling in love.