Backstage: Street Chronicles

by Nikki Turner

  “You wouldn’t go down on your ticket,” he reminded me.

  “You wanted me to give them to you for what I am getting them for. That don’t make sense, Bone.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “You wasn’t buying as many as I’m going to buy. I can’t make nothing off what you trying to give them to me for. That’s what I sell them for.”

  I wanted to throw up the nut that I just swallowed. Muthafucka. He had thirty I was trying to take off his hands.

  “Suck this dick one more time and I’ll go down one stack.”

  A thousand dollars off. Wow! Thank you but no thank you.

  He noticed I didn’t comprehend. “A stack off each of ‘em.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I know it sounds real hoeish of me. I was his ho so I didn’t care what nobody thought. I nutted sucking that dick. That time I didn’t swallow it. I let that dick squirt all over my face. I rubbed it all over my mouth like a messy eater. A bitch with no manners. That’s me. I made sixty profit and was calling him for more. More D. Please baby baby baby please.

  I pulled up at Bone’s. Dick is a form of reconciliation. Nobody ever asks “Will you be my man?” Dick seals that. I pulled up in his driveway like I had called his black ass and gave him a heads-up. He looked surprised. “Damn. You don’t call?”

  “Nope. I’m home. What I’m gonna call for?”

  I had interrupted his shower time. I followed him to his bedroom. I small-talked over the running water. His phone vibrated. I had no idea I was sitting on it. Ooh! That shit felt good. I’m such a freak. I pulled the phone from my ass. The screen read Danessa. I only knew one of them. I looked toward the shower. He fucking with her, too? Damn!

  Instead of answering it, I pushed in his code. I flipped to the text and the majority were from her. I love you. None of these niggas don’t mean nothing to me. I loved you since I was little. How old is this bitch? What we going to do for our five year anniversary? Five years? How they going on five and we going on nine years? I skipped all the bullshit and went to the sent. Time is everything.

  “You miss me, Yummie? ‘Cause I really miss you,” he said from the shower.

  “You know I miss you, Bone.”

  He texted her, I only love you. These niggas don’t have a clue. Yummie swear she a down bitch but she don’t have shit on you. You the truth. I raised you. You my bitch and don’t you ever forget it.

  The water stopped. I closed the message and locked it back. If you not careful you can tell somebody been on your phone. Not me! My stomach turned. I knew he was not using a rubber on her. She freaking. He freaking. Whatever they got, I got it. Sharing is caring. I know he mess with other women but I thought this nigga only loved me. I keep it one hundred. How come he can’t? Disgust had me ready to leave.

  “You know my folks got some more dope,” he said, standing in the doorway choking the life out his dick.

  Die Dick Die!

  “What he got?” I asked.

  “He got thirty more.”

  “How much?”

  “What you gonna do for it?”

  “Quit playing, Bone.”

  “I’m for real.”

  I knew he was serious and I would have been, too, had I not read the texts. “I’m on my period.” Everybody else lying, why not me?

  “Your mouth not bleeding.”

  “You know I like to take my clothes off and play with this pussy while I suck that dick.”

  His dick was getting harder. Say something. I touched my imaginary pad. “Did I leave any of those overnight thick pads ‘cause I’m bleeding big clots? I think something wrong.”

  He let go of his dick. Not only did Bone give up, but his dick did, too. Good.

  “I got to go to the studio. I hate when they just show up and expect me to be there. That’s crazy.” Another lie.

  “You lucky you on your period ‘cause I was gonna punish you.”

  I bet. “Can you have that for me in the morning?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell him to hold them for you.”

  It’s so true when you look for something you find it. I had to tell somebody. I wanted to go straight over to Ziggy’s but that would be like answering the phone because he can’t hold water when it comes to his women. She’ll know I know, then they will have one up on me. I went to Cubby’s. She still messing with Wes and he did a wonderful job upgrading her. I told her about her homegirl messing with Bone.

  “That’s not my homegirl. She my homegirl’s girl. I’ll call her now to see what she will tell me. She tells everybody’s business. Watch this.” She quickly dialed a number. “Shiela, when I see you I’m smacking the dog shit out of you and your friend … You know what I’m talking about … Your homegirl messing with Wes and he bought her a car. As a matter of fact, you got a new X6, let me find out you screwing him, too … Nah! … As a matter of fact, I’m on my way now.”

  Cubby was calling her bluff and making up shit. Everybody knew Cubby loved to tote that pistol. She did time for shooting a girl. Ole girl on the other line started talking like she was trying to save her life.

  “Umm, hmmm … Yeah … Ummm … Hummm … For real? … I don’t care about that. All I care about is Wes … I know. Girl, I’m not like that … I’m not going to say nothing … Don’t you say nothing … Wes don’t care about nothing like that.”

  I was dying to know.

  “Okay. Call me, girl.” She hung up and looked at me.

  “What? Tell me.”

  “Let me get that Patrón out first.”

  I paid my debt and waited for my work to come through. Wes claimed I don’t know how to talk to people. It ain’t me. Although I’m still bothered about the whole ordeal, I’m not tripping. I know I wasn’t in the wrong.

  “You hear that? Shhh …”

  It was so dark in that damn laundromat of mine you couldn’t see anything. The light turned on. Her eyes got big when she saw me but they got bigger when she saw two other men with me. They were dressed in black and wore gloves. They only weighed 185 pounds, if that. Little-bitty-ass niggas that didn’t play. She had locked the door behind her. There was no going anywhere. She did that.

  “It was you. You stole all my dope and was going to steal it again. Ha! Well, all their dope.” I looked at them.

  “Don’t do nothing to me. Bone told me to do it. Please. I’m sorry …” She started crying.

  “Bone said you were more down than me, but I wouldn’t be crying right now. You all begging and shit,” I said calmly.

  “What you gonna do? You gonna kill me?”

  “Girl, no.”

  She took a deep breath, relieved and ready to handle her consequences like a big girl.

  “You remember how I met you? At the club you were sucking good dick. I had never seen that done in my life. You are amazing! That’s how I want to always remember you. I’m gonna tell you how we gonna do this. You taking us to Bone’s house like you just stole from us again with your scandalous ass. One slip up and they,” I said, gesturing to the two guys, “gonna do you.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” she said, still pleading.

  I kicked that ho in her ass while we were going out the door. “Yeah, bitch. I know your kind.”

  She escorted us into the house. Bone had left the door unlocked. Just ready. He walked into the room wearing nothing but a towel and holding a bottle of champagne.

  “For me?” I asked.

  He dropped the bottle, causing it to shatter.

  “I didn’t get to see what kind. We celebrating. You didn’t even tell me. Awww!” I smacked my face with both hands. “Do you know what today is? It’s our anniversary,” I sang. “That’s that jam. Ain’t it, Bone?”

  He stood speechless.

  “How you going to do me like that? Bone, this me. You raised me, too. You were my first. I’ve been with you since I was sixteen. I had my first threesome with you. You played a part in who I am today.
I’m hurt.” I pounded my heart.

  He still said nothing.

  I picked up a candleholder and swung it at him, hitting him upside his head. “Say something, muthafucka. She suck better dick than me, Bone? Do she?” He rubbed his head, looking like a mu’fucka suppose to feel sorry for his ass.

  “Nah, man.”

  “I don’t believe shit you say. Let me judge for myself if she is a better dicksucker than me.” I laid back and crossed my legs.

  “Nah.”

  The guys pulled out their guns with silencers and for the first time spoke. “You don’t have a choice, playboy. Go to your bitch and drop the towel.”

  He did just that.

  She looked at me.

  “Don’t look at me. Look at the nigga who raised you.”

  She was crying.

  He looked like he had to shit. His dick would not get hard. They both were not cooperating. Danessa kept acting like she was going to choke on his dick even though she could easily deep-throat it. I got up ‘cause I had seen enough. The guys took one step toward them.

  “You said you wasn’t going to kill me.” She was talking to me with that dick in her mouth. I had to look at her before going out the door. “That’s my girl right there. You know I’m not going to kill you.”

  Their bodies hitting the floor was the only noise I heard.

  I went back to the laundromat to make sure business was being handled. As I approached the back, I could hear Ziggy opening up boxes.

  “Man, you don’t even know how I feel.”

  “How you feel?” I asked.

  “Just glad we got some work.” I tossed a pillow at him as hard as I could.

  “Why you throw that at me?”

  “Since you doing all that pillowtalking I thought you would tell me everything I needed to know.”

  He stood up.

  “Or do I have to have your dick in my mouth for you to breach our trust? Fuck the shit out of you, and while you sleep, go get a copy of the key to the laundromat. Silly mu’fucka! How could you tell her our business?”

  “It wasn’t even like that, Yummie.”

  “Then how was it?”

  He shook his head no. “She kept talking about what the next man saying about me, how they got this and that. I just got tired of hearing it. So I cut it short by talking big-boy shit. I told her if I cut their water they’ll die of thirst.”

  “So you told her you supplying them?”

  “In so many words, yeah.”

  “You told her how we getting our shit? Ziggy, what’s big-boy about that? That wasn’t cool. I didn’t like it and neither did Wes.”

  “He ain’t shit! What he got to do with it?”

  “I got a lot to do with it, Mr. Lover Boy. Did you forget to tell her that?” Wes entered the room with It Number One and It Number Two.

  “Man, I don’t want no problem.”

  “Oh, we got a problem.”

  “You going to do me like that, Yummie? That’s your get down?”

  “You need to be asking yourself that. Is that how you get down? I’m a bitch and I don’t even get down like that.”

  It Number One and It Number Two started putting on their gloves. “That’s fucked up, Yummie!” Ziggy screamed.

  “No! You fucked up! You can’t turn this on me. I’m so fucked up, but because of me you just gonna get your ass whipped instead of killed. Fucked up would be me sitting here watching you get your ass whipped. I can’t ‘cause I’m gonna want to help you.”

  I got up and shut the door. I wanted to cry. No matter how hard I tried to hold back, a tear fell from my eye. “Where my sunglasses at?”

  The streets were calling. I had five soldiers remaining. I had to get my hands dirty whether I liked it or not. Ziggy was supposed to be right here with his mouth wired up so we could keep this shit pushing. They promised they wouldn’t kill him. How you beat someone to death?

  “He didn’t serve a purpose,” is all Wes would say.

  This nigga think he God? How are you the one to determine that? “He was too valuable to be off the team.” No matter how strongly I felt about it, I didn’t bother going into a debate with Wes.

  “Yummie, if it makes you feel any better, he didn’t want to be here on this Earth.”

  “He told you that?” I asked, sounding naïve.

  “He didn’t fight for his life. He’s gone on home.”

  Home?

  I went to the studio to take my mind off everything that was going on. I just wanted to release it all.

  Imagine getting some head from a bitch that is so vicious

  Deep throat’n, don’t choke, said the dick’s delicious

  Get malicious in conversation and forget about

  Where u at and all da shit that came outta your mouth

  Pillow talks a mu’fucka it turns niggas to bitches

  Never knowing that how you do it is far worse than the

  open snitches.

  While the producer mixed down the track, it sounded like all my phones were going off at the same time.

  “You can’t put them on vibrate?”

  “Nah.” I felt like an operator for a shopping network. It wasn’t the same person yet they had the same story. They were all complaining that the work was bad.

  “Bad? Is something coming back when you cook it?”

  The producer looked at me. I had forgotten my whereabouts. I’m so used to being in here by myself. Bad habit. I went into the other room.

  “Yeah. But I’m losing a zip off each nine-uh.”

  He’s losing an ounce off each quarter bird. Nine ounces in a quarter bird. Nevermind. “Just let me know your losses and call me back.”

  I called Wes and informed him of what was going on. “That shit wasn’t bad. I got some of the same shit right here. Nobody else not calling.”

  How did I know he was going to say that? He was really getting on my nerves. I didn’t get back half of what Bone took from me. I’m down and now he want me to come out my profit to make up the difference. Man, this shit is crazy! “So what you want me to tell them?”

  “Tell them to find somebody who know how to cook. That oil base you got to cook slow. Besides, how they going to complain when there is no work in the city and they are getting it on consignment? They were not going to do anything but cut it anyway. Tell them don’t cut it.”

  How I look telling them that? That’s bad business. Him not trying to straighten this out was bad business. I was beginning to feel Wes was like the record contract I couldn’t get out of. I couldn’t win for losing. That’s why I ain’t got nothing!

  My lawyer called me first. “Thank you Jesus.” My case had been dropped. I paid him enough. They say them Jews know what they doing. He made a believer out of me. Handle your business. I see you!

  I turned on the television and that fast it had leaked to the press. Damn! Did they know before me? I thought my fans would be happy for me. The press, the world, people’s fucked-up way of thinking had turned something positive for me into something negative. They even had a number you could call to vote whether I was snitching or not. What? Why couldn’t they accept the fact that I paid seventy-five thousand dollars to my lawyer and would have given him more to get me off?

  I had a meeting with my record label. Every time something popped off or caused controversy, I thought they finally were going to let me go. I couldn’t be that lucky. My album was supposed to drop in two months and the following Tuesday I was scheduled to drop my first single. I had the full layout of my first video. I was trying to get them to let Quanie Cash direct my first video. These meetings made me sick though. They sat around and sniffed a bunch of cocaine and thought about how they were going to screw me around.

  “Well we think ‘cause of the bad publicity that we should just put your project on the shelf for a minute.”

  “What’s a minute?” I asked all frantic. I knew it was going to be some shit in the game. When I think of a shelf I think of it being dusty. I
s my album going to collect dust?

  “We are in the same city. We’ll call you. Let’s just see if everything that is going on in the media blows over. Nobody loves a snitch in the music industry.”

  “I ain’t no muthafuckin snitch!”

  “Calm down. I’m not saying you are. It just doesn’t look good. That’s all.”

  I called Wes to vent and let him know what they were saying about his number one hustler. I had already sent that money. I only owed him like one hundred thousand. I knew he was going to trip. A nickel bag sold in the park, he wants in on it. I was doing my best to round it up. It’s hard when your clientele is short-handed.

  “So, is it true?”

  “Is what true?” I asked. All I could think about at the moment was what they were saying about me. I didn’t know whether he was going to call the number and cast a vote.

  “Did your case get dropped?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t sound like someone who was grateful or blessed. The case being dropped seemed more of a curse. Maybe it was just my punishment for all the wrongdoings that I had done in my life. Karma. My music was doing so well when I caught the charge. Now the case was gone, I’m not doing good at all. They want me to become a Ja Rule.

  Wes sat on the other end of the line quiet as a church mouse. Mouse. Rat. Wrong metaphor.

  “I’m going to have that money for you in the next few days.”

  “Forget about it.”

  “For real?” ‘Bout time he showed me some slack. Now he was being business-minded. Then I paused. Was he quoting the movie The Godfather? What was he going to say next? Just leave the gun, take the cannoli? I wanted to ask, “Are you done fucking with me?” But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  I called back an hour later, and my assumption was correct. The number had been changed.

  Somebody told somebody some story about what I did

  What did I do ‘cause what I did affects the way I live

  They said I said something (huh), so what I say

  I told what to who, to the cops, that ain’t no way to play

  Miss me with your misery history’s gonna prove it

  Dat snitching ain’t in my blood but yours we can’t remove it.