Murdergram, Part 1

by Nisa Santiago

  “Fuck it, let’s just get this shit over wit’,” Mona said aloofly.

  Cristal took the final pull from the passing cigarette and flicked it off the roof. She blew smoke, nodded and said, “We can’t fail or go backwards.”

  Twenty

  Pike woke up next to Sharon, and the first thing he did was hug her devotedly and give her a good-morning kiss. Sharon was still healing, but with Pike around, her road to recovery was a lot easier. She couldn’t help but beam from ear to ear and feel protected by him. It felt like a glorious morning to them both.

  “Baby, you want breakfast?” Pike asked.

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Tea, coffee?”

  “Some tea would be nice,” she said.

  “Then tea it is.”

  “Oh, and I think my prescription is ready today. You gonna go pick it up from the drugstore?” she asked him.

  “I got you, baby.”

  Sharon smiled and replied, “I bet you do.”

  “Whatever you need done today, it’s done.”

  He gave Sharon another loving kiss, donned his shorts, and went into the kitchen. He made some tea, toast, and scrambled eggs; though Sharon wanted just tea, he decided to add a little extra to her diet.

  He put everything on a tray and served his woman breakfast in bed. She was delighted.

  “Pike, I told you I just wanted some tea.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you gotta eat something.”

  She couldn’t complain. There weren’t too many women getting this kind of treatment at home. She felt special. She took a sip of tea and started eating her eggs. For the next hour he kept company with her, talking, and then he helped her get dressed. The cast on her foot was annoying. She couldn’t move without limping, and there were a few body parts aching her. The painkillers she was taking were doing her some good, but having Pike by her side was doing her more good.

  Pike donned his jacket. He kissed Sharon, uttered, “Baby, I’ll be right back,” and left the apartment with a smile on his face. Sharon lay back against the fluffy pillows behind her and beamed. What would she do without him? She knew he was going to be the perfect man for her. For once, life was good.

  ...

  Cristal and Tamar sat parked in the stolen maroon Chevy on the quiet, narrow Harlem block and observed Pike exiting his building. He zipped up his jacket in the cool, fall air and started to walk down the street alone. The girls—clad in oversized black hoodies, dark, baggy jeans, latex gloves, Timberlands, and ski hats—tried to give off the impression that it was two black males seated in the car. Cristal was behind the wheel with the .9mm loaded and cocked back in her lap. Tamar gripped the same caliber of gun. They both were ready to get it over with. Their forty-eight hours to do the hit were counting down. They had devised a plan to make it look gang-related. It was no secret that Pike was a drug dealer and a womanizer; therefore, his death could have come from anybody—rival dealers or a jealous boyfriend.

  Pike would probably be their easiest target, but in way, their hardest, too. It was close to home, and it carried some emotions. They thought about how the aftermath was going to be following his death, especially with Sharon. How was she going to take it? But they didn’t have time to dwell on outcomes and emotions. This was business, and these bitches were broke and needed to prove themselves.

  Mona had opted out. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Cristal didn’t argue with her. It wasn’t going to take the three of them to take out Pike. They already knew his whereabouts, who he was connected with, and his comings and goings. And besides, it wasn’t like he walked around with any bodyguards all the time. From where she sat, Cristal could take him out with one shot; her training on the Farm had prepared her for this. But though it was an easy hit, it still had to be calculated and precise.

  “When you wanna do this?” Tamar asked.

  “When he comes back,” said Cristal.

  “That could be hours.”

  “He won’t be gone long,” she returned.

  “How you know?”

  “I just know.”

  Cristal knew it wasn’t going to be a long wait. She observed what Pike had on: some sweatpants, sneakers, and a gray hoodie underneath his fall jacket. He was only making a run to the store and a few other places and coming right back. If Pike was going to the park to play ball, he always carried his basketball either under his arm or dribbling down the street while walking. And if he was going out somewhere for a long time, then he would have been dressed to the nines like he always was. It was his character. She knew Pike was making a run to pick up a few things, probably for Sharon. There was no doubt that she was inside his apartment waiting for her newfound lover to return. The girls knew today was going to be the worst day in their friend’s life.

  “Remember, make it look gang-related. We in and we out,” said Cristal.

  Tamar nodded.

  They sat for thirty-five minutes in the cut, nestled between a commercial van in front and a brown hooptie behind them, and waited patiently. The flow of traffic, both foot and vehicle, was sparse regardless of it being late in the morning. Cristal puffed on her cigarette and shared it with Tamar. There was some edginess between them. Yes, they had killed before, but that was on the Farm and in a controlled environment. Now, this was no longer textbook killing. This was the real thing, and if caught, they were looking at a lengthy imprisonment for premeditated murder.

  Cristal observed Pike rounding the corner, returning from his trip up the block from the corner store and local pharmacy. He carried a plastic bag and smoked a Newport. He was content in his own environment and unaware of the threat lurking. He definitely seemed to be a different man—a changed man. It didn’t matter, though; his life was about to be cut short in a matter of moments.

  Cristal turned the key and started the ignition. They placed the ample hoodies over their heads, pulled out of the parking spot, and headed in Pike’s direction. To him, it was just another car leaving the block. He didn’t pay the vehicle any attention. His only focus was getting back to Sharon.

  The maroon Chevy revved forward and came to a halting stop just a few feet from Pike. He stood startled by the sudden approach and eyed the car with a baffled gaze. The doors flew open, and two hooded assailants quickly exited the car with their arms outstretched and pistols aimed at him unexpectedly.

  Pike stood aghast.

  He didn’t recognize the assailants. Their faces were covered, their body language so threatening, Pike was frozen with fear. His shaky voice uttered, “Yo, yo what is—” but before he could finish his sentence, they opened fire on him.

  Cristal and Tamar showed not an ounce of hesitation to kill their longtime friend. The shots rang out loudly like firecrackers on the Fourth of July, and the hot slugs tore into Pike’s chiseled physique, knocking him off his feet, and he collapsed face-down on the concrete, smoking hot with burning lead inside of him.

  There was no time to linger over the body. Cristal and Tamar jumped back into the idling car and sped away. Witnesses peered at the bloodshed from above, seeing what appeared to be two black males committing the murder.

  Pike was dead. The girls had carried out their first murdergram.

  ...

  The gunshots screaming from outside abruptly snatched Sharon out of her peaceful catnap. Her heartbeat skipped like hopscotch. It was a scary sound that sent an icy chill throughout her entire body. The room was still, but outside was chaos. She heard screaming and thunderous activity coming from her bedroom window.

  How long had she been asleep? She immediately looked around for Pike. He wasn’t around.

  “Pike?” she called out. “Baby, are you back? Baby?”

  There was no answer, only silence and the sudden feeling of uneasiness. She picked herself up from her horizontal position, removed herself from the bed, and limped t
oward the window. She had a bad feeling. Sharon lifted the window more and tried to gaze between the bars covering it. She looked down and saw people gathering around something and police cars racing down the block. Somebody had gotten shot, but who? She couldn’t see what was going on outside clearly from her bedroom window. The victim was unseen.

  “Pike, baby, are you back?” Sharon called out once again, this time her voice laden with concern.

  No answer.

  She donned one of his T-shirts and went limping throughout the apartment. It was obvious that he wasn’t back yet. She dialed his cell phone—it rang, but there was no answer and her call went to his voicemail. She dialed again; same results. Her third straight call resulting in the same now brought about panic. He had only gone to the store to get a few things and he wasn’t back yet.

  By now, the block was flooded with marked cop cars and police officers swarming from corner to corner. It was another murder. The looky-loos were coming out in droves to view the crime scene. They were familiar with the victim and his reputation. It was heartbreaking.

  Sharon knew something was wrong. She tried to hurry out of the apartment and downstairs the fastest she could. Clad only in Pike’s T-shirt and a tiny jacket, she limped her way down several flights of stairs, desperately holding onto the railing to keep from toppling over. She held back her emotions, praying it wasn’t her man who had fallen victim to gun violence right outside their home. A wave of concern spilled all over her, and Sharon hurried outside in an undignified haste. Her expression grew ghastly when she rushed out of the lobby forgetting about the cast on her foot and saw the body sprawled out half a block away.

  “No, no, no, no! Please God, no . . . not this,” she cried out, seeing the foot of the corpse in the midst of the surrounding crowd.

  Cops pushed the crowd of looky-loos back from the crime scene. The homicide detectives arriving needed room to work and investigate the man’s murder.

  “Oh shit, that’s Pike yo,” one small teen uttered.

  Sharon was behind him trying to push her way through the wave of people. When she heard Pike’s name, she figured it had to be a mistake. The young teen didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. He was confused and mistaken that the body lying face-down on the cold, chipped concrete, with several bullets in his body was Pike.

  Sharon came to the horrifying realization. It was Pike—dead. He was gunned down in the street like some mafia member. When Sharon saw the body, everything went blank for a moment. It felt like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. She suddenly released a blood-curdling scream so loud it startled everyone nearby and felt like her pain-filled cry was about to shatter car windows.

  Sharon no longer felt the pain of the bruises and bones in her body. The pain transferred itself into her soul. She fell to her knees with her face washed with tears. How could this happen? And why?

  Sharon was devastated. It took several cops to help her up from the ground. Sharon just wanted to lie next to Pike and die also.

  “It was two black males in hoodies, I think,” an elderly female neighbor informed the suit and tie detectives investigating the murder. “They were driving, I think, a red car—I’m not sure of the model, though.”

  Twenty-One

  Cristal checked her bank account twenty-four hours after the murder, and she was ten thousand dollars richer. It wasn’t the amount the girls expected, considering the emotional connection alone. It was assumed that they would get a hundred thousand each, but they only got thirty thousand dollars for the job, divided between them. Ten grand was chump change for murder, especially for a personal hit like that. They all were baffled, but somewhat okay with it. It was money they weren’t used to seeing at all.

  To free her mind from the murder, Cristal decided to spend some personal time with her grandmother, Hattie. Cristal missed her dearly loved grandmother, and she needed to feel a peaceful and loving environment. She drove her Accord to Brooklyn on a crisp, fall evening and parked in front of her grandmother’s place. She stepped out of her ride looking stylish in her tight-fitting jeans, highlighting her luscious curves and protruding booty, a chic shirt underneath her leather jacket, and new shoes.

  Cristal couldn’t help but feel guilty that it’d been months since she’d seen her grandmother. Before the Farm, two or three weeks couldn’t go by without her checking in to see how the woman was doing. When Cristal stepped into the apartment, she gave Grandma Hattie a loving hug and kiss.

  Ms. Hattie stepped back, stared at Cristal looking like a million bucks in her new attire, and said, “Chile, look at you. You looking mighty fancy in them nice clothes.”

  “You like it, Grandma?”

  “I do. That new job of yours must be paying very well for you to look like that.”

  Cristal felt guilty, but remained impassive. She smiled. “It does, Grandma. I mean, I like it.”

  “Well, come on in, Cristal. I have a surprise for you,” Ms. Hattie said.

  When Cristal walked into the apartment she was taken aback to see her cousin Mia seated in the living room looking like a diva herself in her red Valentino heels, sparkling diamonds, and Armani jeans. Mia smiled. Cristal didn’t.

  “Your cousin Mia just came back from California. Lord, this is a very blessed day, my two favorite granddaughters are here,” Ms. Hattie proclaimed with joy. “I’m gonna go into the kitchen and make us a meal.”

  Ms. Hattie walked into the kitchen ready to cook and bake until her kitchen was inundated with food. When she was out of sight, the cousins finally acknowledged each other.

  “Hey, Cristal,” Mia greeted halfheartedly.

  “Hey, Mia,” Cristal returned dryly.

  It was clear that the two first cousins who were once like sisters were now at odds with each other. Mia was a money-hungry woman who did whatever to get her way and to get paid. Cristal still couldn’t forgive or forget that three years ago, Mia fucked her then-boyfriend Damien. She’d loved Damien and her cousin snatched away that love. They argued, they fought, and when things got too heated for Mia, she had packed her bags and moved to California to pursue an acting career. She always wanted her name in glitz and glamour.

  Cristal figured her acting career wasn’t turning out too good, since she came back to New York and was staying with Grandma Hattie again. However Mia’s wardrobe demonstrated that she had made it, or she’d bagged a rich man to take care of her. When they were younger, it had been their dream to find a fine hustler to trick on them. The girls were always in competition with each other, and for a while, it seemed that Mia was winning.

  “It’s been a long time, cousin,” Mia said. She stood up to display her finest attire and her curvy frame.

  Cristal smirked. She knew what her cousin was doing. But this time, she could match the bitch in wealth and wardrobe. While growing up, it was Mia who was always the best dressed one who dated the big-time dope dealers in their hood. But now, Cristal didn’t need to depend on any man; she was making her ends meet and becoming independent.

  “You look good, Cristal. I see you finally coming up,” Mia said.

  “I do my thang,” Cristal replied dryly.

  “I like your earrings.”

  “Thanks,” she replied tersely.

  “Look, let’s just cut out the bullshit. I know you still pissed about what happened back in the day, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. I was wrong. I was wrong about so many things, and I shouldn’t have fucked your man when I knew how strongly you felt about him,” Mia said.

  Cristal didn’t respond to her apology right away.

  “The past is the past, right?” Cristal finally said.

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” Mia replied.

  “You look good, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was only small talk between them. Cristal wasn’t about to get into a full-blown
conversation with her. She’d only stopped by to see Grandma Hattie because she missed her and wanted to give her some money. Cristal went into her pocket and pulled out a stack of hundreds while Mia watched. Her twenty-four thousand dollar stipend was dwindling and she couldn’t wait for the next one. She peeled off five hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills.

  “Damn, you really came up, huh?” Mia said.

  “I did more than come up. I’m running shit,” Cristal haughtily replied.

  She pivoted on her nine-hundred-dollar shoes and went into the kitchen to see her grandmother. While her grandmother was preparing a few things over the stove, Cristal slipped the five hundred dollars into her apron pocket and kissed Ms. Hattie on the cheek.

  “Cristal, I don’t need your money. I’m fine,” Ms. Hattie protested.

  “Grandma, I don’t need it. My bills are already taken care of,” Cristal replied. “And I already treated myself.”

  Ms. Hattie sighed. “You’re spoiling me, girl.”

  “I know.” Cristal smiled. “But I can’t stay for dinner.”

  “Why not? I’m making some of your favorites tonight.”

  “I have a few things to take care of and I’m in a rush, Grandma.”

  Cristal kissed her grandmother on the cheek again and walked away, but before she could leave the kitchen, Ms. Hattie asked, “Cristal, is this money legal? Because I don’t want it if it’s not.”

  Cristal hated lying to her, but she felt she had to. She was tired of seeing her grandmother struggle. With a straight face aimed at Ms. Hattie, Cristal replied, “It is, Grandma. I worked hard for it. I promise.”

  Ms. Hattie smiled. “I believe you, chile. You never had a reason to lie to me before.”

  Cristal felt like shit on the inside. Her stomach churned like there was a sickness settling in, and she felt like lightning was going to strike her where she stood for telling such a boldfaced lie.

  “I gotta go, Grandma,” she said again.