Hoodlum

by K'wan

  The main event of the whole thing was Mike's performance. He sobbed and acted as if he were really broken up by Poppa's death. Swan as well as a few of the others in attendance wanted to drop him on the spot. Sol and the presence of the law prevented that. Mike having the nerve to come to Poppa's funeral only made Shai want to kill him more.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Mike said to Shai.

  “Are you?” Shai asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Poppa was like a brother to me, kid. Whoever did this will pay. Don’t worry, Shai. I’m gonna handle everything.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” Shai said, unmoved. “But I have everything under control. I have assumed control of my father's family. I can assure you this, Mike: Any and all parties involved will be punished.” Shai made sure he was looking Mike in the eye when he said this.

  “Sure, kid.” Mike smiled. “If you need me though, you know how to find me.”

  “Indeed I do,” Shai responded.

  Mike was a little taken aback by the way Shai had come at him. The first time they met, Shai was a little cocky but respectful. The young man before him was quite different. He was cold and confident. It seemed that the youngest Clark boy might prove to be a problem after all.

  Shai looked around at the long faces of the people surrounding him. “So much death,” he whispered. Shai hadn’t even been in New Yorkfor a fraction of a season and his whole world had been rocked. When he thought of the name Clark, it used to bring a smile to his face, now it only brought visions of death. He had seen men killed and he had given the order to murder, but he felt as if nothing had changed. He was only doing what he had to do.

  Shai always knew his people did dirt, but he never understood it. Even as an adult, he didn’t grasp the full scope of what his family was involved in. Over the last few weeks, it made perfect sense. His father played in a game far bigger than that of politics. This was a game that was played for souls.

  A cold chill ran over him as he began to recount the things that had gone on while he had been home. Much blood had been spilled and more was to come. This wasn’t the way Shai wanted it, but he knew it had to be. He used to think that his father shielded him because he wasn’t strong enough for the game, but he was beginning to understand that this wasn’t entirely true. Poppa had already sacrificed his soul so that his children wouldn’t have to. Tommy had made his choice and Shai was getting worse by the year. Hope was the last ray of light in the Clark dynasty.

  “ ‘Sup, lil’ sis?” Shai asked, sitting on the folding chair next to hers. “You okay?”

  “Hey,” she sobbed into a handkerchief. “I’m cool, I guess. I just never …” Every time she tried to speak, she began crying. “Daddy is gone, Shai.”

  “It's gonna be okay.” He hugged her. “Me and Tommy are gonna take care of you.”

  “Tommy?” she asked, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Tommy is lost. Has been for a few years. Even if he does survive the shooting, he's gotta face the charges they’re bringing against him. And even if he beats that, he's gonna be right back out there, doing his thing. I can’t take this anymore, Shai. Y’all think I don’t know, but I do. People talk.”

  “Don’t listen to people, Hope,” he told her. “Gossip is always a variation of the truth.”

  “You think I don’t know about Poppa and Tommy? Shai, I can’teven have a boyfriend because the guys are all afraid of getting killed or beat up by Tommy or one of his flunkies.”

  “Hope, it's not like it sounds. You know Poppa was a good man and so is Tommy.”

  “I know they were, Shai,” Hope said, wiping her eyes. “But they did wicked things. I want to get away from here, Shai.”

  “Hope, where will you go? We’re your family.”

  “Shai,” she pleaded. “You don’t understand. I have to get out of here. If I don’t, I’ll go crazy. Every day I wonder if someone is gonna jump out and try to snatch me. I can’t live like this, Shai. Please. Maybe I could go stay with Mom for a while?”

  “You can’t be serious.” Shai looked at her. “News flash, baby girl. Mom is a fucking junkie. She walked out on us before you could even breathe on your own. What the fuck would make you think she wants anything to do with us? That bitch didn’t even come to the funeral. Listen, Hope”—he caressed her face—”soon, this shit is gonna be all over. I’m gonna get back into school and take you with me. We never have to come back here if you don’t want, okay?”

  “Shai, I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t tease me.”

  “Sis, I’m dead serious. I gotta help get this shit worked out, then we’re gone. I promise.”

  “Okay, Shai,” she sobbed. “Okay.”

  Shai gave his sister a hug and sealed his promise with a kiss to the forehead. He meant every word of what he had told her. Poppa's murder had to be avenged, but Tommy could have the streets. When it was all said and done, all Shai wanted to do was play ball and run his father's company to the best of his abilities. When it was over, he and his sister would say good-bye to the rotten Apple and look to make a normal life for themselves.

  Detectives Brown and Alvarez watched the exchange from a distance. They couldn’t belive how well things turned out. Poppa was dead, they had Tommy on a murder, and the Clark family wascrumbling. They had managed to kill two birds with one stone. The case was wrapping itself up, and they hardly had to do anything. Detective Brown was about to go over and say something to the last remaining Clark male, when Alvarez grabbed him by the arm.

  “Let him mourn,” Alvarez said sympathetically. “Let him mourn.”

  Shai stood alone, near where the procession had parked. He said his good-byes to his father, the man who had given him life and inspiration. Tommy and Poppa had taught him everything he knew. They were both his parents and advisers. He didn’t agree with everything that they said, but they would never tell him anything wrong.

  He shook off his foolish feelings and tried to focus on the business at hand. He was nineteen years old and in control of a quite sizable corporation. Running it would be no easy task, but in addition to that, his father's murder still had to be addressed. Everyone was against him playing a role in the erupting street war, but Shai was beyond the point of reasoning. Shai had the Clark name behind him and a few loyal soldiers. There wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him.

  Watching Rah die had been a strangely pleasant experience, but he was a small fish. Rah was one of Bone's peoples but still small. Shai needed the head. He thought of countless ways that he would make Bone suffer before he died, but he needed to get to him first. Bone wasn’t as heavy a hitter as Tommy, but he still wouldn’t be easy to touch. Especially after the hit Fritz had fucked up. Shai needed an angle.

  “Slim,” Swan called out, bringing Shai out of his plot. “You a’ight?”

  “I’m cool,” Shai said, shaking his head, “It's just that all this shit is a bit much, ya know?”

  “Yeah, man. The streets will do it to you. More often than not, I wanna go crazy, but I hold it together. Fate has a bigger plan for me, just like it has for you. I know you got a lot of shit bouncing aroundin your head, son, but you gotta man-up. The streets are going crazy right now, ‘cause there's no one to take charge. I know you going through something right now, but dead that shit. We got bigger problems. Crews are going against crews and those greasy-ass Italians are just standing by, waiting to pick over whatever's left. We need your head to be right, Shai. Ride or die, fam’?”

  Swan's words were sharp, but very true. A war for control of Poppa's turf was popping off in their backyard and he was daydreaming. He needed to be a solider for his family and his people. Poppa raised his kids to be warriors.

  “We ride, Swan,” Shai assured him. “Taking this on is gonna take soldiers and money.”

  “Baby boy,” Swan said, putting his arm around Shai's shoulder, “you just don’t know how far your name goes. I got a plan to fix that bitch and them sucka-ass niggaz. Let me run it down to you.”


  The little Mexican hung from the basement wall by a filthy strap that was nailed into the brick. He felt like he was going to die at any moment and in truth, he was ready to. His captors had been torturing him for the last three hours. He cursed himself for smoking cigarettes, ‘cause if his wind was up, he would’ve escaped.

  They never even saw the black guys coming when they ran up. They were all wearing masks and carrying guns. The Mexican and his crew managed to kill one of the kidnappers, but they were holding superior firepower. The Mexican's crew took off, but when he tried to follow, he was captured. Now he hung from a wall awaiting his fate.

  “Talk, mutha fucka,” the first masked man said.

  “I tell you all I know,” the Mexican rasped. “They pay us to kill the nigger and promise more territory.”

  “You think he's lying?” the second masked man whispered.

  “Doubt it,” the first masked man said. “We’ve been whipping his ass for a minute and he hasn’t told us much more than that. Besides, that's enough. I’m gonna get this info to Shai. I think he’ll want to hear this.”

  “What about this nigga?” the second masked man asked. “Kill him.”

  Alvarez came strolling out of the captain's office whistling a tune. He walked right past his partner, but never broke his stride. Brown looked at him, confused, and followed Alvarez from the station house. The Puerto Rican detective was nearly back at the car before his partner caught up to him.

  “What's the deal?” Brown asked.

  “Just got word from the DA's office,” Alvarez said, sliding into the passenger seat. “And?”

  “And Amine is singing like a bird. Names, dates, the whole nine. Seems like Heath owed Tommy some money. When the guy doesn’t pay up, bang! Tommy gets him clipped.” “Conspiracy?”

  “That's what the warrant says.”

  “Shit, if Tommy does pull through we’re gonna fry his ass.” The two detectives shared a merry chuckle and hopped into their car.

  CHAPTER 29

  LUCIUS, Leon, Gator, and Fritz sat at a booth inside Nikki's sipping straight Hennessy and reminiscing about Poppa. Fritz had wanted to jump on Lucius more than once, but Gator held him back. The traitors would get theirs, but it would be as Tommy had wanted it done. Public, but quiet.

  “I can’t believe he's gone,” Lucius sobbed into the arm of his suit jacket. “He was like a father to me, yo. That nigga gave me my start.”

  “He was good to all of us,” Fritz hissed. “Anybody that was down with this shit is gonna get laid out.”

  “Word up,” Lucius agreed. “Niggaz gotta get it, yo. If you ask me, I think them Italians did it.”

  “We all got an opinion about the shit,” Gator said, opening a beer bottle with his teeth. “One way or another, it's gonna come out.”

  Unlike Lucius, Leon didn’t miss the looks that Fritz and Gator were shooting at them. The two men definitely knew something thatthey weren’t telling. Leon didn’t like it and wished for the hundredth time that he had brought a gun with him.

  Gator looked around and noticed that some of the people from the funeral had begun to file into the little bar. There weren’t that many, but there were enough to make their point. Gator gave Fritz the nod and let him know it was showtime. Fritz nodded back. And pulled his .45 from under the table.

  “So what we gonna do now?” Gator asked.

  “What you mean?” Lucius asked suspiciously.

  “What the fuck you think I mean?” Gator leaned in. “Poppa is gone, Tommy is laid up. Shai is running the show now, but he ain’t no street nigga. With the Italians out of the picture, things are gonna be rough as hell. I didn’t come to New York to starve, dawg. If the well goes dry, I ain’t got a pot to piss in.”

  “He ain’t lying,” Fritz cut in. “I tried to get at Angelo about it, but this nigga is all twisted over Poppa. I mean, I loved the old man too, but I got mouths to feed, yo.”

  Lucius sipped his drink and eyed the two men. He was trying to figure out what their angle was. He hadn’t been dealing with Bone long enough for Tommy to find out, so they couldn’t have been trying to pick him for info. Besides, that wasn’t their thing. These two were killers. But they couldn’t have come to hit him, because Nikki's was too crowded. Lucius decided to try his luck. With the two killers on his side, his crew would be much stronger.

  “See,” Lucius said, downing the last of his drink, “that's why y’all need to fuck with a nigga like me. See, I saw this shit coming. Seen it a long time ago, but no one listened to me.”

  “What you talking ‘bout, yo?” Gator asked.

  “I’m talking about getting with the winning team, son. I cut a deal with Bone and them to get a bigger piece of the pie.”

  “You crazy?” Fritz asked. “Tommy would kill us all.”

  “Not likely.” Lucius waved him off. “Even if that nigga does wheel his ass out the hospital, the police gonna snatch him for the murder. That boy is a sinking ship, but we ain’t gotta go down with him.”

  “So you’re with them now?” Gator asked in anticipation. Leon looked to his partner hoping that he would catch on and shut up, but he didn’t see it when he answered:

  “Damn right.”

  Fritz cut loose with his .45, tearing Lucius's knee to shreds under the table. Lucius hopped up and fell to the ground. Leon tried to run, but Gator hit him in the back of the head with a beer bottle. Leon staggered and fell to the ground. Gator stepped over him, holding a nine and fired two shots into his face. Leon twitched once and died.

  Fritz smiled as he watched people running back and forth, trying not to get hit up. He turned to finish Lucius off and found himself staring down the barrel of a small .22. Lucius hit Fritz once in the neck and once in the face. Fritz crashed into the table behind them, sending liquor flying through the air. Lucius tried to turn his gun on Gator, but was too late.

  Gator stomped the heel of his Stacy Adams shoe into Lucius's face, smashing his nose. Gator put a knee in Lucius's chest and began to punch him in the face. When Lucius tried to raise his gun arm again, Gator grabbed it. He smiled wickedly and sank his gold teeth into his forearm.

  Lucius howled in pain as Gator tore away skin and muscle. Blood dripped from his face as he leaned in close to Lucius. “Snake mutha fucka,” he whispered. “This is for my uncle.” Gator broke a beer bottle on the ground and jammed the broken edge into Lucius's face.

  Shai sat in the backyard smoking a blunt and thinking about what he was going to do. There were dozens of guests milling around the property, but they all steered clear of him. Shai had left specific instructions that he was not to be disturbed unless it was by the guest he was waiting on. When Shai felt the presence over him, he didn’t have to turn and see who it was.

  “What up, Snoop?” Shai asked, blowing out a ring of smoke.

  “Ain’t nothing,” Snoop said, sitting in the chair opposite Shai. “I got that info you wanted.” He slid a manila envelope to Shai. “Seems there were quite a few hands involved in your father's murder.”

  “Talk to me,” Shai said, thumbing through the files.

  “Well, it was definitely Mike that gave the okay for the hit. Seems he went to some of the other crew and tried to get them to waste either Poppa or Tommy. Preferably Tommy, but Poppa filled the spot. I’ll bet my ass that he struck a deal with Bone, but his people didn’t do the job.”

  “They didn’t?” Shai asked, surprised. “Then who the fuck did?”

  “An unexpected player,” Snoop said, pointing at a picture of a man with a shaved head. “Calls himself Little Frog. He runs a crew of Latinos from the Lower East Side.”

  “We don’t even know them, why would they move on my father?”

  “Same reason as everyone else.” Snoop looked around. “Power. Your father is the man, Shai. He ran all of this shit and he did it fairly. Niggaz knew they were gonna starve if Tommy took over. He wasn’t gonna let nobody eat but his people. They were scared of the future.”

  “This shit
is not for me, yo,” Shai said, clutching his head. “These mutha fuckas ain’t got no respect for life. All over some fucking dope? This shit doesn’t make any sense to me, Snoop.”

  “Fuck it, Shai.” Snoop shrugged. “These are the scraps they left us. We’re all just out here really trying to get by. Not everyone had the same success that Poppa had. That nigga had his marbles up.”

  “Yeah, and some niggaz had him laid down.”

  “Shai, you don’t see what I’m getting at,” Snoop said, becoming serious. “What your father did was illegal, but he put his heart into it and made it pop. It isn’t what he did that made him such a respected man, but the passion with which he did it. Poppa never laid down for anything when it came to his trade.”

  “Just like I won’t lay down for him dying,” Shai declared.

  “You sure you wanna go there with this?” Snoop asked.

  “Real sure, fam’. I gotta see this gets done right.”

  “Then there's something else you might want to know.” Snoop sighed. “A little know-nothing mutha fucka named Amine is theone who put the finger on Tommy in the Heath murder. He's giving the police enough evidence to fry your brother.”

  “Shit!” Shai cursed. “Where is he now?”

  “The police got him.”

  “Damn, so we can’t touch him?”

  “I didn’t say that, Shai.” Snoop smiled. “I said the police, not the feds. These local mutha fuckas are stupid. He's on the Island, but he's in PC.”

  “Who do we have in there?” Shai asked anxiously.

  “Nobody. When they brought that rat fuck in, they moved all of Tommy's people to booking or other detention centers. They do have a little sense.”