The Game Don't Change

by Mazaradi Fox

  “Nah, I’m about to go find a storage unit.”

  Finally, DeMarco felt at home. He took the batteries out of his cell phone and broke his beeper in half then fell back asleep.

  * * *

  The next morning DeMarco went to pick up Money. He would know exactly where to find a storage unit.

  DeMarco stayed in the car while Money went inside to handle everything.

  “Yo, DeMarco, pull over to the third storage on the left.”

  “Money, come here and check this out.”

  Money opened the bags as though he’d just seen a dead body. “Oh shit, DeMarco, we on!”

  “I told you, nigga, I got enough coke to cover all of Queens.”

  “Yo, DeMarco, I’m gonna keep it tall wit you, I thought you was talkin just to be talkin.”

  “Come on, Money, don’t even try to play me like that.”

  Money couldn’t wait to hit the streets and get this money. He had so many customers, but never had the weight they all needed. “Man, DeMarco, we gon’ make a killin off all this shit.”

  DeMarco knew that it was a whole different ball game the way niggas played in New York. “Money, I need to go buy a hooptie from somewhere. Plus, I wanna go check my man that make the fake licenses.”

  “What kind are you trying to buy?”

  “One that cost about $4,000.”

  “I hear that. What about your other cars?”

  “We’ll bring them out when needed. We gotta get out here in these streets and see who is who.”

  * * *

  See, you had some heavy hitters from Queens, like Big Dog and a crew called Prime Team, and DeMarco and Money were still the new niggas. DeMarco didn’t wanna make any mistakes at all.

  Money pulled into the used-car lot and as soon as they walked inside, DeMarco’s eyes were on the oldest car in the spot, an all-black Ford Taurus with tints.

  “How much you want for that Taurus?”

  “I’ll give it to you for $3,800.”

  DeMarco was a businessman. “I’ll give you $3,500 right now and if you have something else like this I might be able to give you $7,000.”

  “Give me a second.” The guy walked inside and came back fast, throwing DeMarco the keys to the Taurus. “What do you think about a gray Chevy?”

  DeMarco nodded.

  “Can you give me a few minutes to clean them out?”

  “Nah, you don’t have to do that,” DeMarco said. “We’ll take ’em just the way they are. We’ll take one now and come back later for the other one.”

  * * *

  DeMarco had a guy who used to put the stash boxes in his Uncle Bruh’s cars. So he went straight to the shop, dropped the Taurus off, then headed back and got the Chevy.

  “Yo, DeMarco, I haven’t seen you in years. You a big man now.”

  DeMarco hadn’t seen Dave since he used to hustle for his uncle. “Word.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  “You know what I need and I also want some plates and insurance.”

  “DeMarco, give me three days and I’ll have you on the road.”

  “Sounds cool to me.”

  DeMarco gave him $6,000 and got back into the car with Money. Money was sitting there remembering how DeMarco had run away from the Tryon Residential Center not that long ago, and had started working for his mother and his Aunt V. Look how fast this nigga blew up!

  * * *

  Money and DeMarco were running around making their rounds.

  “Before we do anything else, we gotta go check my nigga Chief.”

  Chief was in the bar doing what he liked to do: popping bottles and talking shit.

  “Ayo, Chief, what’s good, stranger?”

  “Damn, little nigga, look at that, you forgot about a nigga.”

  “Never that, I just had to take care of a few things, but now I’m back up here for good.”

  “Shit, I told niggas you was one of the smart ones. I’m sayin, DeMarco, talk about it.”

  DeMarco started putting Chief onto what he was trying to do, but not letting him know how many bricks he actually had.

  “DeMarco, you know you my little homey. However the ball bounce, that’s good. I got a lot of blocks for you.”

  “Chief, on some real shit, let’s do it.”

  Chief popped a bottle of Moët and poured DeMarco a glass. “A toast to gettin more money.”

  Chief and DeMarco put their glasses to the sky and said, “More money!” at the same time.

  * * *

  When they got back to the block at 5, Lefty and his niggas were out there.

  “Oh, that’s how you doin it now? DeMarco, you back and don’t holla at your boy?”

  “Lefty, you know I don’t kiss and tell. I’m here, ain’t I?” he replied.

  “DeMarco, these are my homeys, real niggas.”

  “Wassup?”

  “Ain’t shit, DeMarco. We heard a lot about you from your cousin.”

  “I mean, ain’t nothin to it but to do it. Lefty, come back at like 11:30 and we can do what it do.”

  DeMarco went upstairs to check on his aunts Momma Paula and Aunt V.

  “Hey, boy, how you been doing?”

  “I been fine.”

  “So what brings you back up here?”

  “I had to come back, LaLa was having a fit. Saying stuff like I haven’t been spending time with my daughter.”

  “Well, you brought her into the world, so you have to be a father.”

  “Look who the wind blew in,” Aunt V. said.

  It was Steph. “Come and give me a hug, boy, you know I’m mad at you!”

  “Why, man?”

  “You just left me up here for dead.”

  “Hell no I didn’t! I had to bust some moves, you know it ain’t even like that.”

  * * *

  After they set up shop and time went on, DeMarco started having niggas from all over Queens checking him. From Merrick, Baisley, 40 projects, and even niggas from LeFrak. Shit started getting bigger than he’d ever imagined. Some of his blocks were doing $30,000 a day off straight bagged-up work; everybody was trying to get down with his team. He wouldn’t let anybody in if they didn’t start day one with him. Period. Niggas couldn’t understand how he and his crew never ran out of work—even some of his crew wondered, but they never asked questions. The only one who knew was Money, and he would never break the code of silence to anyone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It was the night of Chief’s birthday party. DeMarco and all his crew met up and headed to JB’s spot. Shit was wall to wall; every chick you could name was out. DeMarco and his homeboys were at the bar doing what they did best, when some shorty walked to the opposite side and just stared at DeMarco, trying to get his attention.

  “Bartender, can you please give that guy with the NY Mets hat my number and whatever he’s drinkin?”

  The bartender walked up to DeMarco and did what she had asked. DeMarco thought to himself, Not again. She did look really familiar, but he couldn’t remember how he knew her.

  “Bartender, I’ll tell you what, you keep the drink and I’ll keep the number,” DeMarco said.

  “No problem.”

  She sat in the same spot and watched DeMarco all night long. DeMarco had to ask his homeboy, JB where she was from. JB let him know that Tammy was from Baisley and she hung out with LaLa. Then, DeMarco remembered one time he had a girl in his crib and somebody told LaLa—it was shorty who had gone with LaLa to jump the girl.

  DeMarco was sitting there puzzled, wondering why she would give him her number. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, but he still wasn’t taking any chances just in case LaLa had put her up to it.

  After the party was over, he went home to find LaLa and the baby asleep on the couch. DeMarco grabbed his daughter and LaLa followed them to the bedroom. He still had the number in his pocket. He quietly took it out and slid it in the bottom of the sole of his Air Max 95.

  * * *

&nb
sp; In the morning LaLa wanted to go to the mall to get the baby’s ears pierced. Ironically, they ran into Tammy.

  “Hey, wassup, girl?” she greeted LaLa.

  “Nothing, just came to get Boops’s ears pierced. What you up to?”

  “Oh, she looks just like her dad,” she said, staring at DeMarco, licking her lips with a fuck-me face.

  He just stood there like he didn’t see her.

  “Well, do you need a ride, girl? Because we about to leave anyway,” said LaLa.

  They all got in the car and headed toward Baisley. DeMarco kept glancing at Tammy through the rearview mirror. When they arrived at her crib, she got out of the car and kissed LaLa and the baby.

  “Thanks again, and call me later, girl.”

  She dropped her house keys and bent down to pick them up, pointing her ass at DeMarco. Smiling at him and licking her lips as she walked into the building. DeMarco drove off, shaking his head.

  Next, he wanted to check on his cousin Lefty and LaLa’s mother wanted to see the baby.

  “Okay, LaLa, go see your moms and I’m gonna run over to Lefty’s house real quick.”

  “You better not be tryna holla at those chicks over there either.”

  “A’ight, bye.”

  DeMarco headed to his cousin’s house and knocked on the door. After a few more knocks, Lefty finally opened up.

  “Damn, Left, I was bangin for a minute.”

  “My fault, cuz, I was bumpin that new Biggie, Life After Death. That song he got with Too $hort is my type of shit.” Lefty had the whole kitchen table full of black-top capsules.

  “Yo, that whole idea about ‘buy one and get one free’ got niggas sick!”

  “I told you, nigga! I knew what I was doin.”

  “My nigga Sholomy said he got a spot on Sutphin that he could lock down.”

  “I mean, do what you do ’cause I don’t knock a nigga hustle.”

  “Word. A’ight, bet.”

  “I’m sayin, wassup with that chick Tammy?”

  “Oh, shorty, good money, I always wanted that. She messes with some dude across the street. Why you asked about her?”

  “Because anytime I see her, she’s on me. I was just with LaLa on the Ave and we dropped her off, and before that at JB’s spot, she gave me her number.”

  “Give me her number and I’ll get her over here for you right now.”

  Lefty immediately called her.

  “Hello, who dis?”

  “It’s me, Lefty.”

  “How you get my number? And my homegirl said she not messin with you no more ’cause you fucked her sista.”

  “Man, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Anyway, come to my house real quick. Somebody I want you to see is here.”

  “Who? Boy, stop playin.”

  “Just come here real quick.”

  “Okay, give me five minutes,” she said, and ended the call.

  “She’s on the way over here now.”

  “Put some of that shit up,” DeMarco said.

  “We good. She knows what time it is.”

  “Lefty, you crazy.”

  They smoked a blunt while they waited for Tammy to arrive.

  Knock knock.

  “That must be shorty at the door.”

  Lefty let her in. When she walked into the kitchen, she couldn’t believe it was DeMarco sitting in the chair.

  “Wassup, shorty? Small world, huh?”

  “Lefty, why you set me up?”

  “Set you up? You just hit the Lotto.”

  “Lotto? So where my money at?”

  DeMarco grabbed her hand and led her into the living room.

  “So I’m sayin, don’t you think you playin it a little too close?”

  DeMarco didn’t know how much she knew about him—LaLa used to run her mouth with her every time he went out of town. But one thing you didn’t do was tell another chick about your nigga; especially if he was getting money.

  “I’m not sayin that I’m not, but I liked you from the first day I laid eyes on you,” Tammy told him.

  “I’m saying I have to pick LaLa up from her mom’s crib, but we can get up tonight. Word is you have a boyfriend.”

  “If that’s what you call it, we gonna see about that tonight. Just call me.”

  The way she said that, he knew it was going down. She got up and kissed him on his cheek and walked out.

  “Oh shit, LaLa’s calling me.”

  “I’m ready to go home, DeMarco, it’s getting late,” LaLa said on the other end of the line.

  “Make your way downstairs, I’m on my way.” He hung up. “I’m out Lefty, but good lookin on that one.”

  * * *

  “Come on, that’s light, LaLa!” DeMarco yelled while she struggled to put the baby seat in the back. All DeMarco could think about was Tammy.

  “I hope you staying in tonight, babes.”

  “Yeah, I am,” he lied.

  As soon as they got to the house, DeMarco told LaLa to put the baby in the crib and to come sit on the couch with him to watch Juice. He knew he had to come up with a good excuse to get away for a couple hours. He started kissing on LaLa’s neck, and before you know it, that was all she wrote. They were all over each other.

  “Damn, boy, slow down, you tryna kill my shit.”

  DeMarco kept pounding that donkey out till they both fell asleep. He woke up at 10 and saw that Lefty had called him five times.

  “Yo, Left, what’s good.”

  “Where you at? Shorty was lookin for you like crazy. You definitely have a chance to hit that tonight.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  DeMarco went in the living room and told LaLa some bullshit about Lefty getting arrested, and she went for it. He grabbed his nine and headed straight to the projects to pick Tammy up. As he exited the Van Wyck, he called her but she didn’t answer, but then she called right back.

  “Hey, Mr. Let Me Down.”

  “Nah, never that. I’m comin down Linden now.”

  “Okay, cool, pick me up in the back of my building because it’s a lot of people standin in the front.”

  “Got you.”

  As DeMarco approached the light on Guy R. Brewer, he saw what Tammy was talking about. It looked like the whole pj’s were outside. He drove past and around to the back of the building where he found her waiting. She hopped in and off they went.

  “Wassup, girl?”

  “Nothin. Damn, boy, what’s that in your hand?”

  DeMarco had on his black gloves and was holding a big nine.

  “Let me see that.”

  “Girl, get outta here. What you gonna do with it?”

  “I love guns,” she said. “I wanna shoot that one day.”

  “Let me worry about all that; you too pretty to play wit guns.”

  He jumped on the highway and drove out to City Island. He threw in his Tupac All Eyez On Me CD and played track five. He peeked over at her and noticed how she was into the song, saying to himself, This is my kind of chick. They stopped at Sammy’s to eat and when they got back into the car, DeMarco lit the blunt he was carrying behind his ear. He passed it to her, putting his hand on her leg while he was still driving, rubbing up and down, getting closer to her pussy. He glanced over and noticed that she didn’t have any panties on and his dick got hard as a brick.

  “Shorty, let me find out why you don’t have no panties on.”

  “Boy, it’s too hot for that.”

  “So what do you wanna do?”

  “I’m wit whatever,” she answered.

  “So let’s go somewhere to chill.”

  He drove to his favorite motel, the Kew Motor Inn.

  As soon as they got into their room, no questions asked, Tammy jumped in the shower and he came in right behind her. Tammy had a fat ass and some nice titties with her soft caramel skin. DeMarco started kissing on her neck and rubbing on her completely shaven pussy as she was massaging his dick. He moved even closer to her and slid his dick in from behind. H
er pussy was feeling so good. Without drying, they went straight to the bed, leaving all the lights on.

  “Damn, boy, you are everything.”

  For some odd reason he felt close to her, more so than any other chick besides his baby LaLa. It was like love at first sight in every sense of the word.

  * * *

  Once morning came, DeMarco dropped Tammy off, handed her a $1,000, and told her to buy herself something nice. She gave him a kiss and was about to step out when she said, “You better not had got me pregnant.”

  “Nah, I pulled out,” he quickly replied.

  She knew he was lying like a motherfucker. “A’ight, call me later,” she said.

  “A’ight.”

  As soon as DeMarco started his car, he saw his cousin Money drive by. Money stopped at the light, so DeMarco pulled up next to him and rolled his window down.

  “Yo, Money, where you goin?”

  “Nigga, you better blow your horn or somethin. I was about to light your shit up—and you better start answerin your phone,” Money said.

  “I was busy last night. Wassup, though?”

  “Follow me to the block. Somethin just happened.”

  They both jumped out of their cars as soon as they arrived.

  “Yo, DeMarco, some niggas came through here lookin for you, talkin about you better shut your block down.”

  “So where are these supposed-to-be gangstas at?”

  “They old heads from across town.”

  “Money, I’m gonna keep it straight up wit you: a nigga is the last thing I’m worried about.You know what block they from?”

  “Hell yeah! I’m already on top of that.”

  “My thing is, how you gonna come to a nigga hood lookin for a nigga, but you got a hundred niggas on the block outside hustlin. Come on, Money, let’s ride through there.”

  “Yo, park your car down the street and leave it runnin. We gon’ walk down there.” Money opened his stash box and pulled out his Glock 19.

  “Yo, Money, I don’t give a fuck who out there. We hittin everythin movin.”

  “I’m sayin, it’s broad daylight.”

  “So what? That makes it even better.”

  When they hit the corner, DeMarco and Money started letting it go like it was the Fourth of July. Niggas and bitches were running everywhere. One dude tried to make it to the garbage can where he probably had his heat. DeMarco ran his ass down.