“I shoulda called the police on him,” Basil added, as he thought about how hard he’d got slapped.
“What the fuck you just say?” Nephew asked as he stood up and frowned. Basil instantly grew confused. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.
“I said, I shoulda called…” Basil stammered as Nephew stared at him with piercing eyes.
“That’s what I thought you said. Listen up and listen close, because I’m only going to tell you this once. We never call the police under any circumstances—you hear me?” Nephew scolded as he reached down to Basil and grabbed him by the collar. “We hold court in the streets and never talk to the police about anything. Right or wrong, the police business is never street business. You got that?” Nephew said. He wanted to be loud and clear on the rules of the game, and wanted to make sure Basil didn’t get them twisted. In the life they were in, police were the enemy and never to be used as a tool, help, or a scapegoat.
Basil nodded his head and Nephew released his grip. Basil’s heart was pounding and he knew from that day forward that the police weren’t his friend; Nephew had made sure of that.
“Now go on and get out of here. I’ll handle Dog for you,” Nephew said as he fixed Basil’s collar and playfully hit him in the back of the head. Basil quickly exited and returned home to make his first sell … to his own mother.
It was like Nephew had woken up something deeply rooted inside of Basil. From that day forward, Basil worked under Nephew and became a hustler.
Basil continued to make crack runs for his mother, but instead of walking to Nephew’s unit, he would take from his own stash. He would then take a spin around the block and return to serve his mother and her friends. This became a frequent ritual, and Basil got better and better at it. At first Nephew had to give Basil pre-cut rocks, but after a time Basil began to cut his own and could tell the rocks’ weight by eyeing them. He began to get eight balls from Nephew, which was three and a half grams. Basil graduated quickly, became more advanced.
Basil used Lil Noah as his helper and began to give him the same deals as Nephew had initially given him. Lil Noah was a longtime neighbor of Basil’s who was a few years younger than him. Lil Noah looked up to Basil and had dealt with a parent on drugs as well. They were two peas in a pod and cut from the very same cloth. Basil’s clientele expanded from his mother and her friends, to Noah’s mother and her friends, to his whole unit. Basil grew up fast and was learning the ins and outs of a life of hustling. He wasn’t making too much noise in the drug game, but everyone knew that he would be the man when he came of age. It was all in his demeanor. He just had to wait his turn.
* * *
“Please stop! Please!”
A loud commotion woke Basil from his sleep, scaring him. He heard his mother yelling and crying. It was coming from the front room of their small apartment. His heart beat rapidly as he stood up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He rushed into the front room to see a sight that would haunt his thoughts for a lifetime. Dog was standing over his crying mother with a steel pipe, crashing it down on her hip repeatedly as she screamed for help. Dog looked like a monster as he grinned sinisterly and sweat beads dripped from his forehead.
“You think I’m playing about my fucking money?” he asked just before he struck Frenchie on her hip again with brutal force. Dog grunted, indicating he was using all of his force to punish the poor lady. It was a gruesome sight. Spit flew out of Dog’s mouth as he barked at her about his money. Frenchie screamed in pain as she gripped her maroon-colored, bruised hip and upper leg. Basil instantly rushed over and covered his mother as he began to cry with her. He tried to protect her from another violent hit.
“And what the fuck you doing?” Dog asked as he raised the pipe again while looking down at Basil, trying to protect his mother. Without hesitation, Dog crashed the pipe down on Basil’s back, causing him to scream out in pain. Basil clenched up in agony.
“Please, no! I will pay you your money!” Frenchie screamed in between her cries. Dog tried to answer, but he was too out of breath to respond. Frenchie looked at her son, who was in excruciating pain, and the guilt came crashing down on her. She knew it had been all her fault, bringing this pain into her family. She whispered in Basil’s ear, “Run. Get out of here.”
There was no doubt in her mind that Dog would kill them both. Dog was furious, and at that point, Frenchie only wanted to get Basil out of harm’s away. Basil got up while holding his back in pain. He then darted for the door, and out of instinct, Dog gave chase. Basil’s heart was racing and his back ached with every stride. He heard Dog behind him and he tried to speed up to evade the beating. However, it was to no avail. Dog grabbed Basil by the back of his collar and pulled him to the ground with ease. They were now outside for everyone to see. Dog was high on coke and didn’t care who was watching. He wanted to make a statement in front of them all. He wanted the entire projects to know: don’t fuck with Dog’s money.
Dog looked down at Basil and gave him a swift kick to the midsection, causing Basil to curl up like a lawn chair. A small whimper came from Basil as he gripped his stomach in pain. Dog held the steel pipe that he had gotten from the side of the building earlier. He raised it in the air as if it were a sword and looked around as a couple people began to gather. Neither said anything out of fear that they would be next. Dog gave another kick to Basil, this time in his backside. His size-thirteen Timberland boots felt like hammers. Basil began to cry. He didn’t let out a sound, but the tears fell freely.
“This is what happens when muthafuckas don’t pay Dog,” Dog said, talking about himself in the third person. He raised the steel pipe again to strike Basil, but was surprised when he felt someone grab the pipe. Dog turned around, enraged, not believing someone had the nerve to butt into his business. However, when he saw who it was, his temperature changed immediately. Dog looked into the eyes of his supplier, his boss, and the man who ran the entire city. It was Kane Garrett. Kane had a look in his eyes that Dog had never seen before. Dog looked around and saw Kane’s open car door and his henchman Fat Rat, standing with his arms crossed at the rear of the car, watching his every move.
Kane had come to the projects to handle some unfinished business and pick up money when he saw a crowd forming and the pandemonium. When he saw the child on the ground, he knew he had to step in. Kane, not the type to get his hands dirty, usually wouldn’t have gotten involved. However, his morals wouldn’t let him pass by without stepping in. Kane’s eyes were piercing and he had a menacing scowl on his face. He said nothing, but his eyes told Dog everything that he needed to know. Just as Dog was about to say something, Frenchie appeared, crying her heart out.
“Basil!” she yelled as she limped toward her son. She helped him off the ground the best she could and held him in her arms as she continued to cry. She kept whispering that she was sorry.
“What’s going on here?” Kane asked as he tossed the pole to the side. He then straightened the collar to his well-tailored suit and took a wide stance as he crossed his arms in front of him. His diamond Rolex was on full display and sparkled in the sun.
“This bitch owes me money and I had to show a little muscle to get things handled,” Dog said; he was noticeably calmer than before. Kane looked at Dog without saying anything and analyzed the situation. He then calmly stepped toe to toe with Dog with his jaw clenched and a stern look on his face. He said something to Dog that made Dog’s head drop. Kane spoke so quietly, no one could hear him except Dog. Kane stepped back and waited for Dog to leave. Dog’s head dropped further as he made his exit through the crowd.
Kane walked over to Frenchie and Basil. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money that was neatly folded in a diamond-encrusted money clip. He looked down at Basil and smiled, displaying his pearly white, straight teeth.
“What happened is not to be repeated or talked about after today,” Kane said kindly. He peeled off ten one-hundred-dollar bills and placed them in Frenchie’s hand. K
ane looked at her bruised leg, which peeked out of her robe, and quickly looked away. The sight was too much for him. Frenchie looked down at the money in her hand with tears in her eyes. Just as she raised her head to thank Kane, he turned and headed to the car. Fat Rat opened the backseat door for him and he slid in smoothly. Kane was a gangster, effortlessly. Everyone watched as the car took off, in awe, knowing that they had just seen a boss at work.
Frenchie and Basil dropped their heads in embarrassment. They were humiliated in front of their entire community and neither of them had the nerve to look up as they made their way back to their unit. Basil helped his mother as she grunted with every step. They never mentioned what had happened. It was like an unspoken rule between them, and it drew them closer.
CHAPTER TWO
It’s family over everything. Remember that?
—KANE GARRETT
The next couple of days, Basil was sore from Dog’s thrashing and hatred built up in his heart. Basil wanted to kill the man for what he had done to his mother. It seemed as if his every thought was about Dog and how to get back at him. It almost became an insatiable hunger, to get back at Dog. Every single time he saw his mother limp, it reminded Basil of the brutal attack. Thinking of revenge with Dog almost became an obsession with him. One day while Basil was sitting in his room, an idea struck him like lightning, and he had a plan. He remembered that Nephew kept a small-caliber gun under his couch pillow, right in the living room. Basil always saw the handle hanging out and felt it when he sat in the spot. Basil needed to get to that pistol so he could shoot Dog. That way Dog could never hurt him or his mother again.
Basil recalled how Nephew mentioned that he would be in Detroit at the casino all weekend. Basil thought about how Nephew kept a spare key right under the doormat that opened his apartment. Basil needed to get to that gun and this was the perfect opportunity. He would slip in, get the gun, and handle his business with Dog. Basil planned to return the gun before Nephew came home. It was the perfect plan.
Basil made his way to Nephew’s unit, mumbling to himself about how he would shoot Dog right in between the eyes for what he had done. In Basil’s young mind, murder wasn’t fully understood. All that he knew was that he wanted to cause hardship to Dog and make sure that his mother would never get hurt again by him.
Basil thought, the key was in Nephew’s hiding spot. Basil got the key and headed to the apartment. His heart pounded as he cracked the lock and slowly opened the door. He crept into Nephew’s spot, then hurried to the couch and got on his knees. He reached under the couch pillows until he felt the cold steel of the small-caliber gun. Basil quickly pulled out the gun and looked at it in awe. The shiny chrome and heaviness of the gun pleased him as he studied it closely. He pointed it and squinted his eye as if he were about to shoot it. He imagined Dog being on the other side of the gun and it nudged him to complete his mission. He tucked the gun into his waistband and exited out the door. He was headed to Dog’s unit and nothing was going to stop him from doing what he planned on doing.
Basil walked to the unit with murder on his mind. His young friend Lil Noah headed toward Basil playfully. Lil Noah was shorter than the other boys his age and had known Basil since they were toddlers.
“What’s up, Basil? Man, everybody is talking about how Kane had your back! That nigga the boss!” Lil Noah said proudly as he walked alongside Basil.
“Go home, Lil Noah,” Basil said without even turning to look at him.
“Man, put me on with Kane. I’m trying to get on,” Noah said as he walked with a diddy bop. He wanted everyone to see him walk with Basil so he could get some props later. “You always get put on. First Nephew, now Kane,” Noah boasted. Basil didn’t know it but all of the young boys admired him because of his connection with Nephew. What they didn’t realize was that Basil was cut from a different cloth. He wasn’t loud, playful, or even child-like. That’s what put him in position with Nephew. Even though Basil wasn’t making any real money, his legend was growing with his peers and he never even knew it. That was because he didn’t associate with them in the slightest. Lil Noah was his only friend and Basil liked it like that. He wasn’t trusting, and his circle of friends or lack thereof reflected that.
“Go home!” Basil said sternly as he balled his fists. Basil stopped and looked at Lil Noah intensely, letting him know he was not playing around. Lil Noah smiled and put his hands up.
“Okay, Basil. Sheesh,” he said, still smiling.
“I’ll come talk to you later,” Basil said as he lowered his voice, realizing that he was lashing out against his only friend.
“Cool,” Lil Noah said as he walked away. Lil Noah was waiting for his chance to get on, and he knew Basil would one day be his way out of the hood.
Basil refocused on the task at hand. He headed to Dog’s unit but stopped in his tracks when he saw a big moving truck in the front.
Dog stood there smoking a blunt as he watched the movers move his furniture into the truck. Basil thought about walking up on Dog and shooting him right in the face. However, there were too many people outside.
“Damn!” Basil said under his breath as he watched Dog smoked the blunt, carefree, while surrounded by a couple of guys laughing. Basil put his hand under his shirt and felt the gun. His fingers began to itch; he wanted to take it out and handle his business so badly. “I hate you, Dog,” Basil whispered as a single tear dropped and he clenched his teeth so tightly that the muscles in his jaws began to show. Dog, in the middle of his laughter, looked over at Basil. Dog said something to his boys and pointed at Basil. Basil couldn’t hear what he said but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. Dog shook his head and pointed his middle finger at Basil and returned to his conversation. Basil didn’t know, but Dog’s stunt had got him shunned out of the projects, which Kane controlled. Kane had given him a week to get out. Dog was upset and wanted to protest, but he knew better than to go against the grain with Kane. It was all Basil’s fault. If Basil hadn’t run out of the unit when Dog was beating him, then Kane would have never known.
Basil gave up on his plan and turned around, vowing to catch Dog slipping one day. He headed over to Nephew’s unit to put the gun back under the couch pillow. Basil regretted not shooting Dog, but it was just too risky. Visions of his mother being brutally beaten continued to haunt his thoughts. Basil had pure hatred for Dog. His moving away wasn’t enough; Basil wanted to kill the man. Dog had unknowingly taught Basil something that would forever be engraved inside his heart. Dog had taught Basil how to hate.
Basil forced everything out of his mind as he walked back to Nephew’s unit. It was as if he was in a daze. His eyes were staring at nothing in particular but he never blinked, not even once. When he got to the unit, he snapped out of it, and a wave of comfort overcame him as he realized that Dog wouldn’t be around to hit on his mother again.
Basil crept into the apartment. Just as he put the gun back, he heard someone at the door, jingling keys. Basil instantly began to panic. He grew short of breath and his hands began to shake uncontrollably. He knew if Nephew caught him inside of his apartment without permission, he would be in deep trouble. Without thinking, Basil hopped behind the couch, just in the nick of time. He peeked in between the end table and the couch, and watched what was to unfold. Nephew came in, followed by two other men. Basil immediately recognized them: Kane and Fat Rat.
Basil tried to slow his breathing and placed his hand over his mouth. He was shaking like a leaf, hoping that he wouldn’t be discovered. It wasn’t long before the conversation began. Basil listened closely.
“This must have been real important. I was in Detroit on a hot streak,” Nephew said with obvious nervousness in his voice.
“Have a seat, Nephew,” Kane said calmly, as if this were his home rather than Nephew’s.
“What’s up, Kane?” Nephew asked as he looked at Kane and then Fat Rat.
“You know what we are here for,” Kane stated boldly. Just as the last word slipped out of
Kane’s mouth Fat Rat slowly pulled out an all-black .45-caliber gun. He wore a black leather glove on the hand that held the gun.
“Wait! Kane, it’s not what you think!” Nephew said.
“It’s family over everything. Remember that?” Kane said. Still poised and calm, he chuckled. “I have the feds on me, and because of you. All because of your disloyalty. They can’t touch me, though. They probably going to hit me with tax evasion, right, Rat?” Kane said playfully as he looked to his right at Fat Rat. Fat Rat nodded his head in agreement, without cracking a smile in the slightest.
“Yeah, that ain’t nothing, though. We gon’ walk that down with ease,” Fat Rat said confidently as he pointed his gun at Nephew’s head.
“Wait, Kane. Just hear me out!” Nephew pleaded and held his hands in front of him.
“There is nothing more to talk about, my G. You broke the rules and now you have to pay,” Kane said. He spun on his heels and headed for the exit. The silencer on the tip of the gun muffled the sound of the gunshots, but they were still loud as Fat Rat emptied one bullet into Nephew’s head and then another two into his chest, rocking him to sleep forever.
Basil jumped in terror and shrieked. Fat Rat instantly pointed the gun toward the couch, and Kane turned around and looked in the crack between the couch and the table. He and Basil locked eyes. Basil froze in fear as he stared at the man with all of the power. Kane smiled and looked away.
“Come on, Rat. Let’s go. There is no one in here,” Kane said as he opened the door. Fat Rat looked at Kane as if he were crazy. Kane repeated himself, this time with more conviction.
“Fat Rat! Let’s go!”
Fat Rat complied and followed him out of the door. Once the door was closed, Basil emerged from the back of the couch and looked at the corpse in disbelief. He had never seen a dead body before and his limbs shook uncontrollably. The smell of feces filled the air and began to stink up the room. Basil didn’t know that when someone died their muscles relaxed and frequently a last bowel movement ensued.
The Streets Have No King Page 3
