Tales from da Hood

by Nikki Turner

  Daniel “Danny Man” Russell muttered under his breath as he looked over at Tom-Tom and his friend. Damn, I knew I shouldn't have come this way to this store. I shoulda went to the candy lady. Tom-Tom and them stay on some bully stuff.

  Danny Man looked up and down the street—no adults. At least none that would have deterred Tom-Tom from misbehaving if he wanted to. Danny Man could feel both of the boys’ eyes roving up and down his person. He felt rather than witnessed their eyes come to rest on the brand-new pair of Air Jordans on his feet. Silently, Danny Man wished that his feet weren't so big for his age or that there was at least a smudge or two of dirt on his white-and-red leather basketball shoes.

  Again Danny Man looked up and down the block, stalling for time.

  “Shorty, check it out,” Tom-Tom said, summoning him over with a wave of his hand.

  “Who, me?” Danny Man asked. Inside he was hoping and praying that Tom-Tom wasn't talking to him, but he knew he wasn't that lucky.

  “Yeah, you little mutherfucker,” Tom-Tom said gruffly. “Who the fuck else you think I'm talking to?”

  Danny Man dropped his eyes as he slowly drew nearer. “I didn't know you was talking to me.”

  “W'sup with you,” Tom-Tom said, trying to lighten up the mood. “You don't know a mutherfucker since I left school.”

  More like they put yo old ass out, seventh-grade dropout, Danny Man thought. Without looking at Tom-Tom's face, he said, “It ain't like that. I just don't be seeing you no more since you left school.”

  “You got some squares?” Tom-Tom asked.

  “I don't smoke cigarettes,” Danny Man stated bluntly. Tom-Tom turned to his buddy. “Yo, Rell, gimme a smoke.”

  “Aww, man. I only got one left. You done already smoked up all my pack.”

  “Nigga, I don't recall asking you that,” Tom-Tom said with his eyes flashing dangerously. “What I said was gimme a mutherfucking cigarette. I don't care if it's your first or your last.”

  “A'ight, man, calm down,” Rell said as he pulled a semi-crumpled cigarette from his pack. He tossed the empty carton on the ground and put the cigarette between his lips. As he was searching his pockets for a light, Tom-Tom snatched it from his lips.

  Hoping they were distracted, Danny Man tried to slip away into the small neighborhood store behind them.

  Tom-Tom turned back to Danny Man. “Little nigga, where you going? I wadn't through hollering at you.”

  Danny Man wanted to run, but he knew that if he bolted, they would catch him easily. He paused with his hand on the door handle of the store. “I had thought that you was through talking to me.”

  “Naw, man, I ain't through. Bring yo ass back over here.”

  Danny Man took several small steps in Tom-Tom's general direction.

  Tom-Tom laughed. “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you? Is you retarded or something? Bring yo ass over here, ain't nobody finta do nothing to you. I just want to ask you a question.”

  “What?” Danny Man asked, his voice cracking slightly from fear.

  Tom-Tom draped his arm around Danny Man's shoulder. Danny Man noticeably flinched when he did this, making TomTom laugh again.

  “What you jumping for? I already done told you I ain't finta do nothing to yo ass, so quit acting like that.”

  Danny Man grinned nervously as he hoped that someone, anyone he knew, would walk up to the corner or come out of the store.

  As if he was reading Danny Man's mind, Tom-Tom said, “C'mon, let's get up off this corner before old dude that own the store call the law on us.”

  With his arm still around Danny Man's shoulders, Tom-Tom begin maneuvering the slightly resistant boy around the corner. Rell fell into step behind them.

  “Where we going?” Danny Man asked finally as they neared the alley on the side of the store. “I was finta go to the store. Where is we finta go?”

  Tom-Tom looked over his shoulder at Rell, giving him a knowing look. “What was you bout to get at the store? You got some money?”

  Danny Man thought about it quickly. “I only got two dollars. That ain't nothing. I was just finta buy some chips and stuff, but if you need it I'll give you one of my dollars.”

  Tom-Tom stopped at the mouth of the alley and took his arm from around Danny Man's shoulder. He looked around and then he pushed Danny Man into the trash-strewn, broken-glass-covered alley.

  “Fuck a mutherfucking dollar! I want them Jordans you got on, bitch! And all the cash in yo mutherfucking pocket!”

  “Stop playing, Tom-Tom,” Danny Man said as he stumbled backward into the alley. “This ain't funny.”

  Tom-Tom balled up his fist and whacked Danny Man upside the head. “What you think, this is a mutherfucking joke! I know I ain't said shit funny! Do you see me laughing, bitch? Nigga, what size is them shoes?”

  “Y-y-you don't need to know my s-size,” Danny Man stammered. “I ain't finta give you my shoes. My big brother just bought these for me.”

  Tom-Tom grabbed Danny Man by the collar of his jacket and slapped him across the cheek. “I wouldn't give a fuck if yo mammy bought them for you with her last dollar, I said take them off! Now!”

  Snot began to run from Danny Man's nose and tears leaked from his eyes. “I can't give you my shoes, my brother just bought me these,” he whined. “I can't give them to you.”

  “Rell, get over here and hold this bitch-ass nigga!” Tom-Tom ordered. “Oh, he finta run them there! I bet the fuck he finta take off those Mikes!”

  Rell had been content to watch Tom-Tom's back.

  “Tom-Tom, man, leave this little nigga alone,” Rell said half-heartedly. “He crying like a little bitch.”

  “Man, you better bring yo faggot ass up in here and grab this nigga! If you don't when I'm through with him, then I'ma get in yo ass, too.”

  Rell approached. He got behind Danny Man and held his arms.

  “Tom-Tom, it don't even look like you can fit this nigga shoes,” Rell commented.

  “What the fuck you say? Nigga, you sound like a mutherfucking shoe salesman or something. Did I ask you what size I wear? Fuck that! Put this nigga in a nelson so I can get them Jordans!”

  “No, no!” Danny Man pleaded.

  Behind Danny Man, Rell slipped both of his arms under his and locked his fingers behind Danny Man's neck. Danny Man struggled impotently against the incapacitating wrestling lock.

  “Hold this nigga!” Tom-Tom roared as he bent down to get Danny Man's shoes. “If this nigga kick me in my fucking face, I'ma beat yo ass after I beat his.”

  Rell applied more pressure to Danny Man's neck, causing him to bend over as Tom-Tom slipped the shoes off his feet. Tom-Tom stood up and tied the Jordans together by the shoestrings and draped them over his shoulder. Before Rell released Danny Man, Tom-Tom dug through his pockets and pulled out some money. Quickly he counted it.

  “Nigga, yo lying ass,” Tom-Tom said happily as he slapped Danny Man playfully on the top of his head. “I thought all you had was two dollars. This here is forty-two dollars. I'm finta get higher than a mutherfucka. Rell, let that bitch go.”

  Rell let him go, causing Danny Man to fall to his knees at his sudden release. Tom-Tom was already leaving the alley and Rell jogged to catch up with him.

  “Stop playing, gimme back my shoes!” Danny Man bawled loudly as he stood up. “Gimme my money! Gimme back my stuff! I'ma tell my brother!”

  Tom-Tom abruptly turned and rushed back to Danny Man. Using his foot, Tom-Tom foot swept Danny Man's legs, making him fall again. He climbed onto Danny Man's chest and began wildly punching him in the face with both his fists. Danny Man tried to cover up his face and head as much as possible from the blows, but several of Tom-Tom's punches connected well enough to make Danny Man's head slam against the alley floor. The impact made him dizzy.

  Tom-Tom stopped hitting him and leaned in close to Danny Man's face. “Now if you want to tell yo brother something, tell him that I whupped yo ass! Yo brother don't scare me! That nigga got to be
a punk if he got a punk-ass nigga like you for a little brother! So fuck you and him!” He stood up and slung the shoes back over his shoulder. “Let's go, Rell.”

  Danny Man laid on the ground sobbing and holding his head as the two boys left with his shoes and money. When he was sure they were gone, Danny Man jumped to his feet and ran home.

  TWO

  APRIL 17, 1991, 4:18 P.M.

  DONNELL “DODO” COFFMAN eased the 185-pound steel barbell back onto the weight bench cradle. He sat up on the padded bench and used his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead and chest. He looked across the basement at his friend Casey Russell. Casey was sitting on the edge of the couch. In front of him was an old wooden coffee table. Casey's attention was divided between the television set against the wall and a saucer with a small amount of cocaine on the coffee table.

  Dodo got up and walked over to the concrete basement sink. He turned the cold water tap on and let the water run for a while. He dipped his cupped hands under the stream of water and took a drink. He wiped his wet hands on his pants. He looked over at Casey again on the couch and shook his head.

  “What's up, man?” Dodo asked. “I thought you was about to lift some weights with me. You must be scared of this steel. Nigga scared to hit some of this steel.”

  “Nall, nigga, I ain't scared, but the only thing I'ma hit is some of this here coke,” Casey said. “You need to get off that swole shit and take you a bump or two.”

  Dodo walked across the basement. He stopped in front of an old, cracked wall mirror and looked at the reflection of his brown chest. He flexed his biceps several times. Satisfied that his workouts had been paying off, he walked back over to the sink and took another long drink of cold water. He joined Casey on the couch. For a while he just sat and watched some talk show.

  “Casey, why do you even watch this stupid shit?”

  Casey grinned. “Man, I love this shit. Crazy-ass chicks-with-dicks, I-slept-with-my-brother's-wife dudes, and I'm-a-man-butmy-boy-friend-don't-know shit. I mean look at this show. These mutherfuckers is on here to admit to their boyfriends that they is really men. That shit is crazy! How a mutherfucker don't know he dating another man for three months? Man, if a mutherfucker did fool me on some drag queen shit, I would go bananas when that shit came out! The funny thing about watching this show is that you don't never know how the other mutherfucker gon’ react when he find out that the person you thought was a girl probably got a bigger dick than you.”

  “Do you think them fights be for real?” Dodo asked. “I think that whole shit is a setup. They pay them to scrap on here, I bet.”

  “Shit, they could pay me and I'd be on there straight knocking mutherfuckers out,” Casey said.

  Just then the basement door flew open and Danny Man flung himself inside. He stood in front of Casey and Dodo in a pair of dirty athletic socks. The pockets of his pants were still inside out. Snot and tears ran freely down his face and he was out of breath.

  Quizzically Casey looked at his younger brother. “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “They—they took my—my Jordans and my—my money. They j-jumped on me and r-robbed me. I-I told them that-that you was my brother and they said they did—didn't care!”

  “Who?” Casey asked as he jumped to his feet.

  “It was Tom-Tom and Rell. They grabbed me by the corner store and took me in the alley and jump—jumped on m-me. They—they used to go to my school. They always be up—up on the—the corner starting stuff with people, trying to take people money and stuff.”

  Casey picked up the saucer of coke from the coffee table and snorted a healthy portion as he began to pace back and forth.

  “You know these niggas, Casey?” Dodo asked.

  “Nall, it sound like some shorties. I don't give a fuck though. Danny Man, where these niggas from? Where they be at?”

  “They from the other side of the Avenue. They either be up at the store or they be right there at the playground up at the school or up at the park.”

  Dodo looked at Casey and noticed that the cocaine had Casey's eyes wide open. “So what you want to do?”

  “What the fuck you think I want to do!” Casey exclaimed, a little too amped. “Man, we finta fuck these niggas up and get my brother his shoes back! Don't nobody take nothing from us! We finta push on these marks! They think we some hos! I'm finta get my shotgun! Let's go!”

  “Hell nall, man,” Dodo said. “We ain't finta ride with that bigass shotgun. Give me a minute to go get my pistol. Danny Man, you go put on some shoes.”

  While Danny Man went to get some shoes, Dodo slipped out of the basement and made his way home to get his gun. Casey sat back down on the couch and snorted the remainder of the cocaine. When he was through, he dug through a pile of clothes by the washing machine and found a black hooded sweatshirt. He snatched the hoodie on over his head. When he heard a car horn honk outside, Casey ran out the back door of the basement, almost knocking down Danny Man.

  Heavy, cold raindrops had started to fall as they rushed over to Dodo's car, an ancient, beat-up four-door Chevy Caprice. Dodo slid out from under the steering wheel to the passenger seat and motioned for Casey to come around the vehicle to the driver's side. Danny Man got in the backseat, and Casey climbed behind the wheel.

  “Casey, you drive just in case we get pulled over 'cause you got a license and I got this missile.”

  Casey rocketed the car out of the driveway and fishtailed when he hit the street. He straightened the car up and sped up the block.

  “Man, slow this mutherfucker down,” Dodo snapped as he braced himself against the dashboard. “You gon’ get us popped off driving like that. That's the reason that I let you drive, so we could look halfway legit.”

  Casey slowed down, just a bit. “Let me do this here. I drive the way that I want to. Nigga, we on this business. And I am the one with the license so let me milk this cow.”

  “I ain't trying to hear that shit. Like I said, slow this mutherfucker down.” Dodo turned around to Danny Man. The younger boy was still sniveling. “Danny Man, what these dudes look like?”

  “Tom-Tom he kinda tall. He like almost y'all height. He lightskinned with a short Afro. He think he cocky. Rell, he about my height and my color. He got on a Bears jacket and he got a fade. Rell kinda brown-skinned and skinny.”

  Dodo turned back around in his seat in time to notice that Casey had started speeding again. He just shook his head. That's that fucking coke got this nigga speedballing, he thought. The car was half a block away from the traffic light in front of them when the signal turned yellow. Instead of applying the brakes in preparation to stop at the inevitable red light, Casey stomped the accelerator. He was still several car lengths away when the signal turned red. Still gunning the old car, Casey barreled into the intersection. They broadsided the rear flank of a Chevy Blazer, causing the small SUV to flip over as their car careened off in the opposite direction.

  Casey had time to brace his arms hard against the steering wheel before they slammed into a light pole. The steering wheel slammed into Casey's, chest causing him to pass out. Dodo's knees hit the dashboard and his head slammed into the windshield on impact. Out for the count, he sprawled against Casey. Only Danny Man's legs were visible in the backseat—he was upside down.

  Danny Man righted himself in the backseat and looked around. His eyes fell on his older brother's unconscious form. “Casey! Casey! Wake up, Casey!” he yelled as he shook him from the back.

  Casey began to come around. He drew in a breath and pain exploded in his chest.

  “Ahhh,” Casey cried out. “I think my ribs is broke!” He noticed Dodo leaning against him for the first time. “Oh shit, Dodo! Get up, Dodo! Dodo get up!”

  Danny Man looked over the seat at Dodo. “Casey, his bones is sticking through his leg, look!”

  The bone in Dodo's left leg was easily visible and the cuts on his head and in his face had begun pouring blood. Casey reached over and pushed the driver's doo
r open. It protested but gave way. He stifled another scream.

  In the rear seat, Danny Man was panicking. “What? What? What's wrong, Casey?”

  “My goddamn wrists hurt like hell! Shit, mutherfuck!”

  Grimacing in pain, Casey pushed Dodo off him and rolled his body out of the car. As he stood and looked around, he got his first view of the Blazer he'd collided with—it had flipped over several times and came to rest against the curb. The occupants of the truck had spilled out in the street.

  “Casey, what is we gone do?” Danny Man whined. “Is Dodo dead? What is we gone do, Casey?”

  Casey leaned in the car and took a good look at Dodo. He saw his friend's chest and stomach rise and fall. “Nall, he ain't dead,” Casey announced. “I can't carry him and I know he can't walk on that drumstick in no type of way. I don't know what the fuck we gon’ do.”

  Cars had begun to slow down and stop in the rain. Casey heard sirens in the distance, making up his mind for him. He turned to his younger brother. “C'mon, Danny Man, we got to get the hell up out of here.”

  “What about Dodo?” Danny Man asked.

  “Them people that's on they way can do more for him than we can. We outty five thousand.”

  THREE

  FOURTEEN YEARS LATER Dodo walked up to the guy sitting on the hood of the old car. He looked at his old friend Casey and could easily tell that he was high. Casey's shirt and jeans were name brand, but filthy; his shoes were run over and greasy-looking. His beard and hair were both matted bunches of nappy hair. A thin line of drool had escaped from the corner of his lips and was attached to his knee.

  “Yo Casey,” Dodo said. “Casey, w'sup, man?”

  Casey came out of his nod and looked up at Dodo. He jumped back like he had seen a ghost.

  “Casey, w'sup? It's me, Dodo.”

  “Dodo, that you, man?” Casey asked, his voice scratchy with heroin. “My nigga, Dodo.”

  Casey lifted his arms and gave Dodo a big hug. Because of his unwashed smell, Dodo broke off the hug quickly.