Hustling on the Down Low

by MT Pope

  Chapter 15

  Clayton

  Work of Art

  I was cold and in awe. I was standing in the morgue for the state of Maryland. I was called down to look at a body that was found a few days ago in the back of an abandoned car.

  In my line of work, I was never happy to be in the presence of the dead or decomposing bodies. We all had to die, I just didn’t want to see it face-to-face all the time. I avoided it at almost every turn. But today was one of those times that I would have to bite the bullet and do what needed to be done.

  I was outside of the room where the body I was about to see was staged. I was a man in all rights, but this just wasn’t something I loved. But, again, it was necessary. I grabbed the jar of Vicks VapoRub to put a dab under my noise. It was to hinder me from smelling the decay in the room. My smell wasn’t the only thing that I was worried about. It would be that the sight that I saw that would be forever etched into my memory. I didn’t want to close my eyes and see a dead body for the next few nights.

  I stood at the door, closed my eyes momentarily, and breathed in and out for a few seconds; then I put my hand on the swinging doors that looked like they could fit right into an animal slaughterhouse.

  “Good day, Detective.” I was greeted by a pasty-white female with a smile as bright as a sunny day. I wasn’t the least bit jovial. “So glad you could come down today.”

  “No problem,” I lied. I tried to put on a smile that matched hers, but it felt, and was, fake. It didn’t last long either.

  “Well, let’s get right to work. I have something fascinating that I want to show you.” I could feel the excitement oozing from her pores. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that she loved her job. I almost rolled my eyes.

  “Sure.” I followed behind her as she walked over to a table with a body that was covered with a white sheet.

  “Get ready to say bravo to this work of art.”

  This bitch was way too excited.

  She removed the sheet as if she were Houdini himself, and this was her magic act.

  The body on the table was decomposing, but it was still in very good shape, if you can say that about a dead body.

  “This just . . .” I said and then paused. I was in awe and speechless.

  “I know. I said the same thing when he first came in. I heard that this was one of the victims that you were looking for. That mysterious drug dealer guy did this to him, right?” She looked very curious to get an answer.

  “I-I don’t . . . I think so.” I looked on in disbelief. I knew that this was one of the victims of the Ghost, but I didn’t and couldn’t give out that type of information to her. I didn’t know if she could be trusted, and some information just wasn’t available to the public, and she was, technically, the public.

  “It is. I know it is. I’ve been following these cases and things related to it. I know some people and—”

  “This stays in this room,” I spoke, cutting her off. “You will be brought up on charges if this gets out. I promise.”

  She looked at me like she was a scolded child, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t about to fuck up my work and possible increase in the ranks.

  I walked around the table a few times taking in as much as I could. I took out my phone and took a few pictures of the body. The plastic surgery work on the body was exquisite. It was a work of art. You would have thought that this body had come out of the womb this way. Everything was just so seamless and perfect. The scarring was almost unnoticeable. You had to be close to this body to even tell. Whoever did this to this person was a master. This ghost guy was on point in every aspect.

  I left after I was done with my evidence. All I could think about on the drive home was the fact that this guy had the best of the best in the streets and doing his dirty work. How was I going to catch him?

  Chapter 16

  Avery

  Human

  I am not invincible or untouchable. I just go unnoticed. It’s the way that I like it. I’m the average person with some heightened senses. On average, a person does not pay attention to their surroundings. We watch things, but we don’t pay attention. I take notes about other people and their actions and compare them to my own. I have been that way ever since I can remember. I’m human in every way, shape, and form. I just conform to the people’s perceptions around me at any given time. I am who you think I am at that given time. Right at this moment, these boys see me as their coach. Later, I will be a kingpin running an empire that practically runs itself. Like most businesses, chain stores especially, you need workers that need money. You place someone in charge that is more in need of money and things; then you supply them with instructions and goals.

  Everyone loves a challenge. We lie and say we want things to be easy, but no one does. We want to prove that we have earned our keep. And then there is fear and expectation. Those two will keep most, not all, loyal. Then you have examples of disciplinary actions toward the ones without loyalty. Because, again, there will always be one or two that will try your hand. Throw in some incentives and advancements and you have yourself a well-oiled machine that only needs to be tended and given maintenance when needed. Sure, they have some challenges, but it comes with the territory.

  The truth is, I’m lonely. As the saying goes, it gets lonely at the top. I hadn’t had companionship in a long time. And in this game, you can’t trust anyone, even the ones you trust, if that makes sense. I make tons of money, but I only spend it on myself and a few charities, anonymously. I couldn’t showboat because money brings attention, and the attention is followed by leeches and parasites called friends and family.

  I was in my car driving around thinking about Corey and his mom. They seemed like a good family from the looks of things and the way they carried themselves. It made me a little envious.

  I decided to take a drive around my old neighborhood. My family still lives in the same house that I grew up in. I wasn’t an only child, but it felt like it most of my life. I was the one that strayed away and isolated myself. The world made me do it. The projection and rejection of the gay black male in society had me doomed from the start. Once I realized what I was, in their eyes, I withdrew myself and closed myself off from my family. I wasn’t abused, molested, or talked down to by my family. It was television and the neighborhood that pushed me away with its idea of what gay life was. It was like I didn’t have a chance from the beginning. Don’t feel sorry for me because I’m cool with me now. I know that I’m not a germ. I’m a gem. Sometimes I just wish that I could go back and spare my parents the heartache of me running away and disappearing in the shadows. It’s easy to get lost in this city and still be in plain sight. I’ve been playing invisible most of my life. Hide-and-seek was my life.

  I drove down the block I lived and played on for a short time, and all the pain and memories flooded back into my mind. I wanted a do over. I wanted to go back and scream out to the world that I wasn’t a germ, and then live the life that most other people lived. But that wasn’t going to happen. I was fully immersed in the life I lived now. I was happy by most standards, but it didn’t hurt to have regrets.

  I slowed down a little to see some people sitting on the porch of the row house I once lived in. I watched the world destroy me before I had a chance . . . right from that porch. There was a gay boy that lived on the block as well. He knew who I was, and I him, but neither of us said a word. The other boys and girls in the neighborhood that we played with on a regular basis made his life a living hell daily. I vowed that it would never be me every time I witnessed something done to him. The boy would take anything to keep them as friends. The girls would make him wear dresses and makeup, and the boys would taunt him relentlessly afterward. The abuse was acceptable just as long as they were his friends. If friendship was like that, then I didn’t want it. That was my vow. To never want to experience that type of abuse on any level.

  On the steps was an older man and woman. I knew who they were. They were my parents
. They looked older but just like I remember them. One day I just may go up and hug them, but the pain was too hard for me to bear. This would be enough for me. I take this stroll every so often to check up on them. My windows were tinted, so my identity was protected. I also had some plastic surgery done, so even if they saw me, they would never recognize me. I went to great lengths to maintain my life and secrecy.

  I moved on down the block to see business going on that made me richer by the day. I continued on my way. I grabbed myself a bite to eat, and then returned to the shadows of my life.

  Chapter 17

  Leroy

  Father’s Day

  I sat down at the strip club with my boy, my seed. I was a proud guy. To find out that your son was banging broads’ backs out was a thing a father loved to here. Fuck what you heard, every man wanted to hear that their son is a ladies’ man. I got a chance to sit down and talk to my wife, something I haven’t done in a minute because of my preoccupation with my empire. She said she had some suspicions about Corey’s sexual habits and that as his father, I needed to investigate. She didn’t want to be a grandmother this early in her life, and I need to check him before she gives him a homemade vasectomy. My wife was my twin when it came to the tongue and mind-set. It was one of the many things that attracted me to her, along with that fat ass of hers.

  “Corey, you out here spreading them wild oats like it’s no problem?”

  “What?” He looked at me like I shouldn’t have asked that question. “Nah, it ain’t that type of party.”

  “Come on, dude, the wife said that you were hiding some shit and it was about a girl being pregnant and shit. Give me the business on that.” I looked at him with pride and curiosity. I didn’t want him to be a father this early either, but I wasn’t going to browbeat him for doing something natural. A man had to be a man. Fucking broads was protocol . . . a man’s world.

  “Pop, Moms bugging and shit. I was just joking around with her, and she took things to the left on me. I told her it was a joke, and she didn’t believe me. I straps up anyway when I getting that ass. I’m team ‘no-kids’ right now.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. The language that the young boys use nowadays was wild and unpredictable, but I could relate. I didn’t strap up when I was having sex with his mom, and that’s why we’re sitting at this table together now.

  “Corey, that’s all I needed to hear. I’ll reassure your moms when we get home. Now, let’s get rid of some of this money. These hoes in here looking like they’re thirsty, and I got the cure for that thirst.” He laughed, and so did I. I didn’t cheat on my wife and had no need to either. She had this dick on lock. It didn’t mean I couldn’t admire what God created every so often, though. It was something that I did when I wanted to clear my mind, and now being that my son was with me, I could have fun.

  Chapter 18

  Monica

  Monica 101

  “I am not going to take this shit much longer.” I was in my garden trying to get some peace of mind. My garden was one of my hiding places out in the open. It was in our close-to-a-quarter-acre backyard. I had a wooden gazebo made with a swing that sat in the middle of the garden. The garden was filled with my perennials and annuals. I had two small cement benches on both sides of the gazebo for resting in between clipping and pruning my precious flowers. I had a bottle of wine with me to help me pass the time, as well. This was my other pastime when I didn’t go shopping. This was another way to save money too. I tended to shop heavy and ended up buying clothing that I probably will never wear. I took a few more sips from my glass and then filled it back up again. I planned on getting drunk before the day was over.

  My husband and my son were about to drive me crazy with all their craziness. Late nights out, and then attitude when questioned was not a good look for me. I was trying to hold this family together, and no one was the slightest bit concerned about me. There was only so much a down chick could take. I was at my wit’s end with Corey and Leroy. I needed and wanted to get out of the house. But I didn’t have any friends to call on, and I was an only girl, so calling my brothers was like talking to brick walls. They were somewhat insensitive at times. They weren’t totally coldhearted, but they were street-bred guys. They left their feelings on the dresser in their homes. I didn’t want to get them involved anyway. Both of my parents were dead, so that left me basically alone.

  I stayed in the garden for close to two hours sipping and clipping, and I was tired of clipping, so I came in the house. I flopped down on my living-room sofa. I was more tired from stressing than I was of clipping and pruning flowers. I picked up my phone off the coffee table that was in front of the sofa that I was resting on and began to scroll through the contacts hoping that I could find someone to talk to about anything. Let’s just say there was slim pickings. Everybody was in the life. Except one person. Corey’s coach. I knew that it was a long shot, but I was desperate for attention right now. He seemed like an interesting guy at the restaurant the other day, so why not get to know the person that had potential to shape parts of Corey’s mind differently than his father and I? At least, that’s what half of the bottle of wine I just drank in the garden told me. They say that alcohol was liquid courage. With it, you could do and say anything that you normally would not do or say. This was one of those moments.

  I pushed the call button next to his name and waited for him to pick up on the other side of the phone. I was tempted to hang up after a few rings, but he picked up before I could do so.

  “Hello.”

  His deep voice made me a little nervous. I didn’t know why because I was used to guys with deep voices. I think it was the desperation that made me nervous.

  “I’m sorry for calling you . . . I mean, this is something I never do,” I stammered.

  “If you do it once, including now, that takes the word ‘never’ out of the picture.” He spoke in an even and self-assured voice.

  “Well . . . uh . . .” I paused, at a loss for words.

  “Monica, is everything okay with Corey?”

  “Who?” I sounded so absentminded.

  “Corey, your son,” he reminded me. There was a small laugh that followed his statement.

  “Oh, Lord. Yes, he’s fine. I think. I hope.” I blew out a frustrated breath.

  “I take it you are not sure of his whereabouts and you were wondering if I knew anything?” he estimated.

  “No, that’s not the reason why I’m calling you. I wasn’t concerned about his whereabouts now. I know that he is capable of handling himself. He’s his father’s son, for sure.”

  “Oh, okay. What can I do for you, then?” he asked. The silence on the other end was scary. He was waiting for an answer that I wasn’t sure of right now. What could he do for me?

  “To be honest, Coach, I’m not really sure of why I called.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m bored at home, and there was nobody that I could really talk to that would be unbiased if I needed to talk.”

  “Well, that’s great. I’m glad that you trusted me enough to consider calling me. It’s an honor.”

  “I hope that you aren’t busy.” We had already been on the phone for a minute or so now. I guess it was crazy to ask if he was busy or not.

  “Monica, I was not doing a thing. Mainly thinking and planning in my head. You know, world domination.” He laughed, and I followed in the same manner. If this was his way of lightening up the mood on my end, it had worked.

  “Boy, do I know about that.” I went back into my thoughts about my crazy and dedicated husband and all his plans for the takeover of Baltimore City.

  “Anything you say to me is between us. I’m a very private person myself. You can trust me.”

  “I don’t know why, but I believe you.” I paused, and then went right into my thoughts. “Well, Coach, my husband is a very busy man, and he is almost always busy at work for these last few weeks. I mean, I’m used to him being busy, but usually there was time for us to ge
t together and do husband-and-wife things. Now, I’m lucky if I get a kiss on the forehead. A woman has needs, you know. I’m just feeling rejected right now and lonely. How do you think I can get my husband’s attention?”

  “Well, Monica, that’s a hard question to answer. I’ll ask you this, though. Have you spoken to your husband about this issue?”

  “Yes. He’s not totally neglecting me. It’s just not what it used to be. His passion for success has surpassed his passion for me. I used to be his number one priority. Now, I feel like one of the boys in a dress.”

  “Well, Monica, I say you force him to sit down and have a talk. Make it plain that this is not good for your relationship and put your needs on the table. You may have to give him an ultimatum.”

  “Oh, hell no,” I belted out, and then laughed at the thought. “My husband is not that kind of man. That wouldn’t work in my favor at all. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Monica, the only thing I can think of is if you show him what he’s missing. A man loves a hands-on lesson. Take him back to school with Monica 101. He needs to be reeducated on the needs of a lady, especially his lady. I have to go now. I need to handle some business, but let me know what happens. Talk to you later.”

  He hung up the phone without even letting me say good-bye. It wasn’t necessary, though. I had got what I needed, and I hoped that it would work.