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Dope Girl 2: Just like daddy

Page 18

by Sa'id Salaam

Mercer was standing there in disbelief. He and his friend had gone out for drinks the night before. Zubair and Mercer had been friends for over twenty years. It hurt him that his friend was dead.

  Chapter one

  After his father died, Nikhil sat by hopelessly, watching his mother struggle. Sure, Mercer would drop off a couple of dollars and made sure the mortgage was paid but Rasheeda had never worked in her life. This was not the life she was used to. Her husband was a hardworking man and he made sure that his wife and son had the best of everything.

  Rasheeda and Zubair met when she was fifteen years old. He was the sexiest man she had ever seen. He wore his beard long and groomed well. He was always at the masjid; it was like his second home. He was in love with Rasheeda the moment he laid eyes on her.

  “As salaamu Alaikum.” He said to her wakil or overseer. “Brother, I wanna talk to you about Rasheeda.”

  “Rasheeda?” the sheik looked up at Zubair. “You know whose daughter that is right?”

  “Yes. She is Imam Waiz’s daughter; everyone knows that. ” Zubair chuckled. “I want to marry the sister.” He said.

  Rasheeda’s father had been the Imam or preacher at the masjid for twenty years before he died. He was well respected in the Islamic community. He had left Sheik Mustafa in charge of looking after his three daughters.

  “Well, you know the sister comes with conditions.” The Sheik leaned back in his chair. “She’s fifteen. She wants a man that is steadfast in his religion, who will maintain his home and wife firmly. She will not tolerate a man who beats her.”

  “Alhumdulillah.” Zubair smiled. “I am the man for her then, Sheik. Tell her, for me, that I want a wife that can bear children and that will be humble and maintain my home. I will not tolerate a liar.” He said.

  “In Shaa Allah, Brother Zubair. I will tell the sister.” The sheik and the brother shook hands.

  The sheik called Rasheeda when the brother left the office. He relayed the brother’s message and made arrangements for the two to sit down and talk. In Islaam it is not permissible to date. There is no such thing as ‘boyfriend and girlfriend.’ Muslims get married. If a man and woman are intending to marry they meet with another person present, usually the woman’s wakil. This is so that Shaytan does not become the third party in their gathering. Allah the All-Knowing, the All-Seeing says in the Quran, “And man was created weak [cannot be patient to leave sexual intercourse with woman].”

  They met at a small restaurant a few days later. Rasheeda was dressed in her favorite khimar; the yellow one with orange flowers and a black over-garment. Zubair sat across from her, smelling of the most intoxicating oil, wearing a ski blue thobe and a navy blue kufi. His smile was so bright it lit up the room and when he spoke to her she felt tingly all over. She stared into his brown eyes as he told her stories about his family. She wasn’t really listening though; she probably didn’t care. All she wanted to know was when they’d be married.

  Rasheeda and Zubair had sit-downs once a week, for a year after that. She wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before she married him. She believed that marriage was sacred and that she would only get married once in her lifetime. She wanted to be sure that she was marrying a man that was going to help her get to Jennah. Her main focus was pleasing Allah so that she could enter the gates of Heaven through any door she pleased. She wanted to be a good wife to him so that Allah would favor her.

  Zubair and Rasheeda were married in a beautiful ceremony and went to Hawaii for their honey moon. Two months after they were married, the couple was excited to announce that Allah had been merciful enough to trust them with a baby.

  The way her unborn child performed in the womb, kicking and moving,she knew that a son was growing inside of her. She knew that he would be strong and powerful.

  ***

  When Nikhil Wright, who was often called Nik, was a little boy his mother would always tell him he was capable of great things; that he would grow up and be somebody. Ms. Wright had such high hopes for her baby boy. She sent him to the best schools in the county and tried to instill in him that education would be his best asset. Much to his mother’s dismay, Nik had ambitions of his own. He wanted to make money, hard money. So, he secretly sold drugs.

  Nik was sitting on his front stoop, cracking open sunflower seeds, when Pop rolled up on his yellow mountain bike. Pop parked the bike and took a seat next to Nik.

  “What’s up, kid?” Nik asked, as he poured some of the seeds into Pop’s palm.

  “I can’t call it.” Pop responded, staring at the group of boys posted up across the street.

  They all wore long beards and gold chains. Their leader was Duck. Duck was a little bit older than Nik and Pop. He and his crew had a three block radius locked down and that’s why Nik and Pop ran their operation five blocks south from there. The news of the new kids had spread like wild fire, especially since Nik and Pop were gaining most of Duck’s customers. They no longer wanted to walk up the hill to cop blow.

  “Aye- yo, son, let me holla at you.” Duck yelled as he wobbled his overweight ass across the street to where Nik and Pop sat.

  “What up nigga?” Nik said as he stood up.

  “So I heard you and yo peeps holdin’ a couple of blocks down.” He said.

  “And?” Nik raised his eye brow.

  “Where y’all lil niggas copping from?”

  “Like we gonna tell you.” Pop intervened, standing to his feet.

  “Lil brah, I ain’t come over here for that so chill.” Duck said but Pop knew better.

  “Like he said, get the fuck way from my porch.” Nik barked.

  “Fuck you talking to? Ain’t nobody tell you I run this shit.” Duck made a circle with his hand to represent the blocks he unofficially owned.

  “Fuck outta here nigga.” Nik waved him off. When Nik turned his head in the opposite direction Duck leaned into swing on him. Before the punch could land though, Pop swooped in and punched the boy in the mouth. The blow sent the boy stumbling back. Nik followed up and Duck tripped over the curb. Duck’s crew joined in the fight. The squabble had drawn in the attention of the residents of the block.

  “Get the fuck off my son!” Rasheeda screamed as she launched at the crowd, swinging an aluminum bat.

  “Ight. Ight. Break it up!” a deep voice barged through the group of teenage boys. Nik and Pop retired to Nik’s porch while the other boys stood, huffing in the street. Nik recognized the man who had stopped the fight. He hadn’t seen the man in years but he knew him. “Now what’s going on out here?” the man questioned.

  “It ain’t anything.” Nikhil mumbled, staring at the hasty group of boys.

  “Ight. Y’all lil niggas get!” the over large man barked. The group of boys did as they were told and scattered up the block.

  “What’s going on, Nikhil?” Rasheeda demanded.

  “Ummi, it ain’t nothing.” He repeated.

  “Look, Rah, let me handle it.” the man said. She looked him up and down, curling her bottom lip up.

  “You better do something before I beat his ass with this bat?” She waved it in Nik’s face and disappeared into the house.

  “I know y’all lil niggas out here making a lil bit of dough. But I got a job for y’all. I told your daddy I was going to look out for you.” he pointed at Nik. “Get in the car lil niggas.” He turned to walk back to his car.

  “Nah, my curfew in a minute. I got some chores to do.” Nik said, reluctantly.

  “I said; get in the car, Shawty.” The man looked over at Nik who looked back at Pop. He waved his friend over and they both got into the car. Mercer sped off. “Shawty, I hear you real good with the numbers.” Mercer started. “Yo new job gonna be to make sure all my money going where it need to go and coming back way it pose to, ya hear?” Nikhil only nodded his head. “And you,” he looked through the rear view mirror at Pop, “will handle supply and demand.”

  Mercer had been driving around all day looking for Nikhil. Someone had told
him that his best friend’s son was hustling nickel and dime bags. He knew that the boy could dice and slice any type of drug because he had learned from the best. The only problem Mercer had with the ordeal was that Nik was doing it without the proper supervision. If he was going to be in the drug game he was going to be in one of the top spots because his father’s name held weight in the street. While Mercer rambled on and on about their new jobs, all Nik was thinking about was how he was going to tell his Momma. He knew she would be irate when she found out that he had quit school.

  A few days later though, while his mother was cooking breakfast the phone rang.

  “Wright Residence.” She sang into the phone. “This is she.” He could see her eyebrows scrunching up on her forehead. Her eyes darted at him and then she stared at him long and hard. “No, I was unaware, Mrs. Jackson. Thanks, for calling. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Yes, you too. Have a nice day now.” She hung up. Before she could say anything Nikhil jumped up from the table and ran to the other side of it. “Boy, you better tell me what the hell is going on!” she said through clenched teeth, waving a wooden spoon at him.

  “Momma, calm down.” He said.

  “Calm down? Boy, Imma knock yo ass into next week if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “Mercer… uh, Mercer hired-” Mrs. Wright through the spoon at him and it cracked over his head.

  “Get ya shit and get out! Ain’t no boy living in my house gonna be selling no drugs.” She yelled. “Get the hell out.” She stood there, tapping her feet with smoke coming from both ears. Nikhil tried to dart pass her but she caught him by the collar and punched him upside the head. “I sacrificed everything for you!” she said, between punches. “Get” she punched him, “then” his nose bled, “hell,” she punched him, again, “out” she let him go.

  Nikhil drug himself to his bedroom and packed a few items. Mrs. Wright sat in the living room, knitting something. “Momma,” he started but she put her hand up and waved. Nik stood on the porch for a moment and then pulled out the cell phone Mercer had given him.

  “Sup, Shawty?” Mercer answered.

  “I need a place to stay.” The boy said, sadly.

  Mercer pulled up to the block on his twenty fours and swerved to the curb. Nik jumped in the passenger side and sped off. Thirty minutes later the two pulled into the parking lot of a luxurious condo complex. This is dope, thought Nikhil, as he stepped out of the car.

  “First things first,” Mercer said as he put a key into door number 200, “you gotta get ya own whip.” After the two stepped inside, he took the key off of the ring and handed it to Nik. “You gotta license?”

  “Yup!” the kid smiled and then frowned. “But I ain’t got enough bread for no whip.”

  “Nah, don’t worry 'bout it. Put ya shit down, we got some business to handle.” Mercer headed for the door again.

  They got back into Mercer’s car and soon arrived at the car dealer ship. Nik already knew what car he wanted so as soon as they stepped on the pavement he went for it. He looked through the windows at the interior.

  “This shit fine.” He said, enthusiastically.

  “That’s the one you want?” Mercer eyed the candy red Audi.

  “Damn sure is!” Nikhil said. Mercer disappeared into the dealership and came back with a set of keys. He gave Nikhil the keys along with a wad of hundred dollar bills.

  “Ight, Kid. I’ll holla!” Mercer climbed into his car and sped off. The kid stood there for a moment, looking dumbfounded and then hopped into his brand new car. He drove straight to the mall.

  After shopping in every appealing store there, Nikhil called up his shorty. He knew she missed him so he was going to scoop her up on his way to his new home. Aasimah was his girlfriend since they were in pampers. Their mothers were the best of friends. If there was anyone he trusted in the whole world it was Aasimah.

  “Where’d you get this car? And why you ain’t been in school?” she quizzed as soon as her ass hit the leather seats.

  “Wave bye to your momma.” Nik said, like the boss he was becoming.

  “Huh?” she looked back at her momma and then at him.

  “You heard me.” The girl waved and then he sped off.

  “Ight, first things first,” he said to her as Mercer had said to him, “I got us a crib on the other side of town and you gonna come live with me.”

  “What’s wrong with you? You don’t come round here just giving me orders.”

  “You my girl, right?” he looked at her and then at the road.

  “You know I love you, Nik, but-” he cut her off by pulling to the side of the road.

  “Either you down or you ain’t, ma!” he said.

  “Nikhil? What about school?” she whined.

  “Either you down or you ain’t, ma.” He repeated.

  “You know I got ya back.” She smiled as he leaned in for a kiss.

  “That’s more like it!” he sped off into the darkness.

  “This is nice.” Aasimah said, scoping out their new apartment. “Baby, I’m sorry for doubting you.” she gave him a make-up kiss. “But I can only stay on two conditions.” She kissed him again.

  “And what are those?” he rolled a blunt.

  “That I can still finish school and go to the other side when I want.”

  “Cool.” He said and they kissed again.

 

 

 


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