“Okay,” Ayana said, looking over at the side doorway. “I’ll have him and we’ll be standing in the doorway. Let me get off my phone, I hear it beeping telling me that I ain’t got much battery left. Please, just hurry up and get here, okay? I can’t take this no more. Bein’ out like this.”
“We on our way.”
Tramar ended the call. Ayana put on a smile and looked back at Quan’s questioning face. “Daddy is about to be here,” she said. “We need to be waitin’ for him in the doorway, okay.”
Just as the two of them were getting their trash together on the table, Ayana saw what she never wanted to see. On the other side of the McDonald’s building – the side facing the hotel on the other side of the strip mall – a police car had pulled into the parking lot. The officer, who did not have his lights on, pulled into a parking spot and headed in.
“Fuck,” Ayana said. She could feel herself being put into a pair of cold, metal handcuffs and being taken downtown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What’s wrong, Ayana?” Quan asked. “Why are you lookin’ like that?”
“Uh,” Ayana said, struggling to pull her attention away from the officer. He walked into the restaurant and made his way up to the front counter. “Nothing,” Ayana said, answering Quan. “You know how I feel about the cops and all.”
“Yeah,” Quan said. “They always on the news for killing somebody. And they even kill people who don’t have weapons.”
“Shh, shh,” Ayana said. The last thing she needed right now was for the white cop to hear them having a conversation about the police. “Let’s just talk about something else. So, how is your mother’s side of the family?”
Ayana zoned out as Quan went on about his aunt and her boyfriend finally getting married. The wedding was going to be out of town in Indianapolis, but Quan had said that he wasn’t sure his mother had decided if they were going or not. Ayana looked over to the counter. The officer seemed to not notice them sitting there. However, she knew how white people could be. Her mother and grandmother had always told her to not trust white people, even when they appeared to be on your side.
The officer ordered food, smiled at the workers behind the counter, and waited. As he did, he looked over at Ayana, causing Ayana to look lost in conversation with Quan. When the workers had handed the officer his food, he did something that made Ayana’s night all the worse. He went to the other end of the lobby, by the bathroom, and sat down. He now was facing dead across from them, texting on his cell phone – looking in the very path they’d have to take to get to the side door. Ayana clenched up, almost wanting to freeze up and sit in that very spot for the rest of the night.
For several more minutes, she sat there, listening to Quan as best she could. She felt her phone vibrating, seeing that it was Tramar calling. She glanced over at the officer, finding it very strange just how slowly he was eating his meal. He seemed to be more preoccupied with text messaging than he was with eating. Ayana pulled her phone up to the side of her face and answered. “Yeah,” she said. “Here we come.”
“Okay,” Tramar said. “Everything all right?”
Ayana paused for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to take a moment to explain. “There’s a cop,” she said, softly, “in the restaurant.”
“The fuck?” Tramar said. “Is you serious?” Ayana could then tell that he’d held the phone away from his body and told Jackson. Curse words slipped out of Jackson’s mouth in the background. “Just be real smooth about it, okay. Look like a happy family and stuff, okay?”
“Okay,” Ayana said. “Just hurry up. Here we come.”
Ayana hung up and pushed her phone down into her jacket pocket. She smiled, trying to give off as many positive vibes as she possibly could. “Okay, Quan. Daddy is about to pull up. Daddy and Jackson.”
The two of them slid out of the booth. Very casually, while watching the police officer out of the corner of her eye, Ayana walked Quan over to the trash cans. She tried to buy time, moving slowly. She would glance out of the windows, waiting to see headlights pulling into the parking lot. The third time she looked, she saw headlights coming up the road. She squinted, seeing that the car had its turn signal blinking to turn into the parking lot.
Ayana finished stuffing the trash into the trashcans and pushed Quan toward the door. “Come on,” she said, loud enough for the officer to hear. “Daddy is pickin’ us up.”
“Yay!” Quan said.
Ayana hoped that she had given off the wholesome, family vibe. She walked Quan out of the first door. They waited in the enclosed walkway for a moment before Jackson pulled up, the back door even with the entrance to McDonald’s. Quickly, Ayana pulled the door open and she and Quan jumped in. Jackson pulled off and up to the first menu board.
Tramar looked back at Ayana. There was so much he wanted to say, but he knew that he couldn’t – that he shouldn’t – in front of his son. Instead, he smiled and looked back at Quan in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about what happened at the hotel, buddy,” Tramar said. “We gon’ take you to stay at a different one, okay. We don’t know when that hotel is gon’ be back up and runnin’.”
“That’s okay, Daddy,” Quan said.
“Yeah,” Ayana said.
Jackson pulled up to the speaker. “What we gon’ order, y’all?”
They leaned toward the other side of the car as they looked at the menu. After giving their order to the worker, they were instructed to pull up to the second window. Jackson did just that, paying for the meal before they were informed that they’d have to wait a few moments. He nodded as the drive-thru window closed.
Tramar started a conversation up to distract Quan from the tension in the car. The silence was even getting to him. Just as they started talking, the world suddenly slowed down for Jackson, Tramar, and Ayana. As if the Gods above were working in unison, the three of them saw, at the very same time, the police officer walk out of the McDonald’s. Walking ever so causally, the officer walked across the drive-thru lane and up to his police car. Tramar wanted to break a sweat, silently begging God to make sure that he could at least get his son to a safe place before he was taken in. Ayana hoped to God that the officer wouldn’t notice a car full of black people and get any ideas. Jackson, on the other hand, wondered if his car’s description had gotten around to officers – he wondered if what he thought of as vague in appearance would stick out enough to get him caught.
Ayana, Tramar, and Jackson each watched as the police officer climbed into his car and pressed his brakes.
“Here you go,” a perky voice said, coming from the drive-thru window.
Jackson and Tramar, both startled, turned and looked at the McDonald’s worker – a Hispanic guy with jet black hair.
“Here are your bags,” the guy said, handing the three bags through the window one by one. Jackson accepted the bags and passed them around the car. As they looked through the bags, trying to not look suspicious, they couldn’t help but look up at the police officer every few seconds. All three of them were lost in a world full of anxiety as they wondered what could be going through the police officer’s mind.
After the drive-thru worker had handed them all of their bags and some packets of ketchup, he closed the window and disappeared. Jackson looked over at Tramar, all of them wondering why the police officer had not pulled off yet.
Tramar looked back with fear in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess. C’mon. Let’s just get the fuck outta here.”
Jackson pulled up to the parking lot exit and turned onto the road. “We headed back to the motel or what?” he asked quietly to Tramar.
Tramar nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess. Let’s just hurry up and get back to the highway so I can calm down a little bit. I’ll be glad when all this shit is over.”
“And then what?” Jackson said. For several seconds, he made eye contact with Tramar. They both knew what the other one was thinking. While they had a bag of money that they could live off of for a whil
e until they got set up somewhere else, they also knew they needed to have a real plan. Tramar shrugged it off, looking away and into the rearview mirror at the road behind him. He just wanted to put a bullet in Byron’s head. He’d rather watch out for the police than to have to watch over his shoulder for Byron. Byron was ruthless and he needed to be stopped. Plus, Tramar needed to take him out, even if it was only on principle. He should have never gone after his family, period.
Tramar felt more at ease when he saw the police car turn out of the McDonald’s parking lot and go the opposite way on the road. Soon enough, they were pulling onto the highway onramp to get up onto the interstate. As they drove down the highway, they watched what they said, for they were very aware that Quan would be listening. The less he knew, the better. After all, he was only a little boy.
***
“Goddamn, nigga!” Precious exclaimed. Upon feeling her insides stretch around Howard’s thick manhood, she couldn’t hold the words back any longer. “Shit, the dick feel good as fuck.”
Precious and Howard had gone out for the night. However, the conversation between the two of them was picking up. They seemed to have a lot in common, and they both loved the street life. In fact, they each agreed on liking people with a little roughness around the edges. Furthermore, neither of them was looking for a serious relationship. When Precious received Howard’s dick pic and realized that they were on the same page about a lot of things, she couldn’t wait to get him back to her bed. He was just too fine to pass up – big and bulky, with a deep voice. The tattoos all over his somewhat muscular body were a testimony to the life he lived and how dedicated he was to it. What really turned her on was how he was able to be professional when working downtown, but really turn it up behind closed doors.
Howard slapped Precious’ ass before going back to gripping her by the neck. Holding her in place, he stroked in and out of her in the quiet bedroom. Normally, he would have music playing. However, upon seeing Precious’ body, he had made his mind up that he wanted to hear nothing but the sounds of her wet pussy. It sloshed around his dick with every stroke he made. The way she whimpered when he would push all the way into her only made his dick harder and throb more.
“Shit, this pussy,” Howard groaned, looking up at the ceiling. He took deep breaths and shook his head. “Fuck, this shit is fire.”
As Howard was just about to grip Precious’ waist as hard as he could and go full throttle, there was a deep knock at the front door. They both stopped, Howard looked out into the hallway and toward the living room door. Before he could ask if she was expecting company, a man with a very professional voice from the other side said, “Miss Harris, are you home?”
Hearing her formal name used, Precious knew that it had to be something important. Quickly, Howard pulled out of her. Precious rubbed her stomach as she grabbed some pajamas and a t-shirt. Having had Howard’s thick manhood inside of her for the better part of twenty minutes, suddenly pulling it out made her feel as if she’d just lost a part of her.
Howard stood off to the side in the shadows of the bedroom as there was another knock at the door. Precious quickly dressed and looked at Howard. “Just chill right here,” she said, confused. “I don’t know what this could be about.”
Precious rushed out into the hallway then made her way across the living room. When she walked up to the door, she looked out and saw two white men in dress clothes. With it being Saturday night, there was no doubt in her mind that whatever they wanted had to be very serious. Precious unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“Yes?” she said, confidently as she looked both detectives in the eyes.
The two detectives introduced themselves before getting down to business. The younger one, who went by Sloan, asked Precious, “Where is your son, tonight? You do have a son with a Mr. Tramar, is that correct?”
Precious' heartbeat sped up. She was so nervous. Like any mother, she quickly jumped to assuming that something had happened. “No,” she said, covering her mouth. “What happened? What happened? Not my baby.”
“Ma’am, calm down,” Sloan said. “As far as we know, nothing has happened to your son. We’re trying to find out if you know the whereabouts of his father.”
“His father?” Precious asked. “I mean, I can call him if you want. Tramar came and picked Quan, our son, up earlier today. I ain’t talked to them since. What is going on? Why are y’all here?”
Sloan looked at his partner, realizing that the mother to a man’s child could be a good way to catch him. She would be perfect for that. “Miss Harris, do you mind if we step in to explain?” he asked.
Precious moved out of the way, allowing both detectives to step inside. For the next several minutes, with Howard still ducking in the shadows in the bedroom, Precious listened as the two detectives explained the long sequence of events.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Precious said, angrily. “And you said that them niggas, excuse me, robbed the first bank when?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” Sloan answered. “They then got two banks in Indiana and now they’re wanted in both states. We are looking around the clock for them, especially Tramar.”
“He really killed the security guard at the one bank in Indiana?” Precious asked, shaking her head. Even though she and Tramar had their differences over the years, she never saw him as a violent man. He was always respectful enough, even when they got into it with one another. The idea that he would rob a bank seemed to be a far stretch. Precious could only think about that for a few seconds more before she realized that Tramar had looked her dead in her face today, and he did not mention one thing about being in any sort of trouble.
“I knew I shouldn’t have called that nigga and asked him to do shit,” Precious said. “I swear, something was telling me to just call my mama or my auntie or something. But no….here I am try’na be the good mother and let my son grow up with his father. Why the hell would he be robbin’ banks?”
Sloan hesitated. “We still don’t know his motive,” he said. “But, we need you to help us find him. We’ve been calling his phone and it seems to be off, or maybe he tossed it or something. Our people tried tracking it, but they can’t seem to get any sort of signal. Since you’re the mother of his child, we figured that you might know the places to find him.”
Precious shook her head. “We really ain’t cool like that,” she said. “I mean, I know he hangs out with Jackson a lot, but I don’t know where they be goin’. What I can do is call my son’s cell phone.”
“You can?” Sloan asked. “That would work. Call Quan and see if he answers and what he says.”
“Okay,” Precious said. “Wait a minute.” Precious rushed back into her bedroom. There she looked at Howard, now standing there in nothing but his underwear. While he didn’t have a record or anything, he still didn’t like dealing with the police. He simply stood there, watching Precious rush in and out of the room, with his eyes on her ass. The longer he waited, the more he wanted to continue where he’d left off.
When Precious got back to the living room, she called Quan. No answer. She called again. No answer. She looked at the detectives and said, “Quan’s not answering. He not answering.”
“Okay, calm down,” Sloan said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Give us Quan’s number, since he may be in harm. We can see if our people can trace it for you. You deserve to know where your son is.”
Without question, Precious wrote down Quan’s cell phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to the detectives. They said a few things more before the detectives walked back out into the hallway. “If you hear from Tramar, you make sure to let the authorities know. You don’t wanna go down with him for harboring a wanted bank robbery and murder suspect.” Sloan looked into her eyes.
“Oh, I will,” Precious said, closing the door.
Once back in the calmness of her home, Precious could only stand there and think over what she’d just been told. So much of it was hard to believe, an
d so much of it had very little reason. Why would Tramar get into robbing banks? Sure, he did some dirty things out in the streets that could wind him up in prison, but he’d never done anything as crazy as robbing a bank, especially not one located in the middle of downtown Chicago.
Precious managed to pull herself together, now concerned more about Quan than Tramar. She went back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. She was no longer in the mood for any sex. She was too worried. Her son was out rolling around the streets of Chicago with his father – with a wanted bank robber and murderer. Precious thought the worst, saying to herself out loud, “What if I never see him again?”
Chapter 7
Tramar was relieved when they got back to the motel where they’d put his father and stepmother. It was out of the way, out of the city, and, most importantly, in cash and under someone else’s names. Upon taking Quan into the room to see his grandfather, Tramar told him to not say anything about his face or else he would be in trouble. Quan agreed, running into the room once the door opened.
“Daddy, can you watch Quan for a minute while we talk?” Tramar asked, standing in the doorway of the motel room.
Frank nodded, happy that he was seeing his grandson but resentful that he was helping a criminal on the run.
Tramar, seeing the look in his father’s eyes, turned around. He met Jackson and Ayana out in the parking lot. After grabbing Ayana and hugging her, Tramar kissed her. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I really am. I shoulda been there, again. I shoulda been there.”
“It’s okay,” Ayana said. “It ain’t like you knew. Now, we gotta figure out what we gon’ do. It’s getting late and you know the streets is about to be jumpin’.”
When It All Falls Down 3 - Somebody is Gonna Die: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady) Page 11
