by Sa'id Salaam
“Stop it!” she pouted after getting hit again.
Grandpa didn’t stop though.Instead, he kept popping her until she began to block his hits. Finally, she got frustrated enough to fight back.
“That’s it,” senior cheered as she threw a punch of her own. He blocked the first one but not the second.
“Ohh I’m sorry grandpa!” Tywanna whined as the blow burst his lip.
“Don’t be,” he said, firing a blow that also burst hers. “Rule one, no mercy. If fighting is the only option, destroy your opponent! Make them submit, no mercy!”
Cameron senior taught the girl everything he knew about boxing. Considering that he was a junior Olympian in his youth, it was plenty, but still not enough. After a month she had a refined hook game and it was time to move on.
“This is Karate Joe,” grandpa said introducing a weird little guy in karate pants and slippers.
“Hey,” Tywanna sang cordially as the karate man bowed.
The first week was spent on blocks that had Tywanna’s forearms so sore she cried. Cried, but didn’t quit. Next came strikes, then kicks. A month later she learned submission holds that gave opponent two choices, submit or get your shit broken.
Once those were mastered it was time to learn lethal moves. It was a time to kill. Karate Joe showed her how to snap a person’s neck using their own weight and aggression against them.
“Look it grandpa!!!” Tywanna cheered when she made her teacher tap just short of getting his neck broke.
The master was impressed and bowed to her. Next, he taught her the fabled strike that would break a nose spending shards of bone into the brain. That too, earned a giggle once it was mastered.
“She is ready,” Karate Joe announced with a bow. He was thoroughly impressed, never had a student learned so much so quickly. The girl was a sponge, and she had soaked up everything he’d taught her.
“We’ll see,” Senior said returning the bow. He had to put her to the test to see just how ready she really was.
******
“Shit, I forgot my smokes!” Grandpa said as they reached the roof top training facility. “I’ll be right back”
“OK grandpa,” Tywanna said as she stretched for whatever lessons the day had in store.
He hit the stairway to go back to the apartment just as a known addict named J.J. was going up. They nodded at each other in passing. Senior had often paid the man to carry out small tasks for him. Today was no exception.
“Hey! What you doing up here? This is my spot!” J.J. barked startling the girl as she warmed up.
“Just waiting on my grandpa,” Tywanna said looking at the door hoping grandpa would come through it.
“Give me your money!” the junky demanded as he approached.
“I ain’t got no money!” She yelled, now angry. She balled up her hands in preparation to give him what she did have. A spare ass whooping.
The junky rushed in and tried to grab her by the neck and caught a flurry of blows that knocked his hat off. He tried again and got the same results. When he reached up to his face and felt the blood and knots left from the blows he got mad.
“OK little bitch,” He growled and pulled a knife. “Now I’m ‘bout to cut you and rape you”
Now, there are a lot of dangerous things in life. Lion taming, convince store clerk, sky diving, suicide bomber, all dangerous indeed. But, telling a lethally trained, molestation survivor that you’re going to rape her, had all of that beat. And then, you call her a bitch!
Every move and technique Karate Joe taught her ran through her mind in an instant as he approached with the knife. When he lunged the first time, she sidestepped the blow and delivered an elbow to the back of his head.
Next, an overhead thrust was reversed and she used his momentum to make him stab himself. He howled so loudly from pain it brought grandpa back up onto the rooftop.
“What the Fuck?” he asked as Tywanna punched and kicked him as if he was a heavy bag in the gym. It was only the crack that kept him standing.
“He….said….he….finna’….rape…me,” she said between blows.
When Senior heard the word rape and saw the knife, he sprang into action. Instead of pulling his gun he grabbed the junky by his pants and shirt and took off running over to the edge of the roof and off of the building.
“Come on,” he said grabbing Tywanna to get her out of there. As they rushed to the stairwell, she suddenly pulled away.
She ran over and picked up J.J.’s hat and tossed it over the edge.
“Don’t forget your hat mista,” she smiled watching it float down to where he was splattered below.
“Girl come on!” Senior demanded. She had passed the test with flying colors. Flying junkies too.
******
Next, wouldbe weapon’s training. Cam Senior’s personal favorite and soon it would be the girls too. It was Hammer time, but before she could actually get her hands on a gun she had to learn everything about them.
“Um… 9mm, 380, 45 ACP,” she said naming the different size rounds her grandfather laid out on the table.
“What round does an Ak-47 shoot?”
“Nato 7.62,” she shot back quickly.
“A-R 15?”Senior quizzed. “2.23 Or 22 long riffle with conversion.”
Cam Senior nodded proudly as she correctly answered every question he’d thrown out, even the trick questions. Next, he trained her in the mechanics of how guns worked. He had her taking them apart and putting them back together while naming each component.
When the time came he drove her over to a gun range in New Jersey. She rambled on incessantly over things her grandfather knew nothing about. Still, he humored her with false enthusiasm.
At the range they rented a variety of weapons ranging from a run of the mil 9 millimeter to an Mp-5 machine pistol. Again academics came first before she got to shoot.
“OK, line the target up using the three dots, just like I showed you. Then squeeze, not pull the trigger,” Senior coached from behind.
“Like that grandpa?” Tywanna asked after firing a shot into the forehead of the target.
“Just like that!” He replied proudly. She did the same with each of the guns putting bullets exactly where he told her to shoot.
In a few weeks she was a crack shot able to hit anywhere on a target with any gun. Cam Senior had gotten a kick out of her giggles when he had her spray a three shot burst from a Tech-9 into the target groin. She was turning out to be the son he never had.
Chapter 14
A sudden change in Cam’s demeanor had upset the entire Forrest household. It followed a phone call that sent him outside to take a moment of privacy. His spies back in Atlanta confirmed it was time to make his move.
The time to strike at Chris and his crew had come. Not only was he spread thin in a turf that was with both Mexicans and locals, but his pockets were hurting. In a foolish move to hurt his competition he slashed his prices to fifteen grand per kilo. He had taken his business personally which is a recipe for failure in any profession.
His huge ego had goaded him into biting off more than he could chew. He tried to make sure that no one else could eat and it backfired on him.
The dope boy now had to explain his departure to his people one by one. He started with his father. Knowing the killer would understand. He’d understand wanting to kill somebody so badly you can actually taste it.
“When we leaving son?” he asked, including himself. He desperately wanted in on one last gun fight to secure his spot as an urban legend.
What he had planned would make Hip-Hop history. Songs would be written about this one.
“I got this shawty. This is personal, not business,” Cam related. He never, ever mixed the two. Especially not after having to kill a baby mama to prove to himself that money and blood didn’t mix.
“Besides, I need you to take care of that girl in there,” he added.
“Shit, that girl can take care of herself! Trust me on that!” he sh
ot back.
“I’m asking you to do it, please?”
“We’ll see,” his father said unconvincingly.
******
“Can’t you just pay somebody to kill them people?”his grandmother pleaded when Cam came to break the news. “Your father would probably do it on the strength!”
“No grandma, I have to do this myself,” he replied. A scowl spread on his face as he recalled the smile on Chris’ face when he raised his glass to him. It was the signal to the hit team that killed his wife.
“You and your father will go down there and really, really make a mess, trust me,” she urged.
“So, how you and your granddaughter making out?” he asked attempting to switch the subject.
“Oh she’s a doll!” Grandma beamed, taking the bait. “I need to get down to Georgia and see the rest of my grandbabies. Tell me again now how you have children by two sisters?”
Cam laughed and explained the Shay and Britney situation. Well, most of it anyway. He left out the part about having her murdered or fucking their mother after the funeral.
They talked and laughed for hours knowing they may not have a chance to ever do it again. With the first two notifications out of the way, it was time to see the girl. This was going to be the hard one.
******
Cam smiled as he stood outside the guest room that had become Tywanna’s. He could hear her making karate noises as she practiced her kicks and chops. He knew his father was taking her out teaching her something during the day while he slept.
He wondered why she always gave a slight bow to the strange man called Karate Joe. That would explain it.
“Who?” Tywanna responded to her father’s soft knock on the door. She rushed over and pulled it open knowing whoever it was would be welcomed.
“Hey daddy!” she cheered brightly, then adjusted to his demeanor. “What’s wrong?”
“Bout that time lil’ mama,” Cam sighed and plopped down on the bed.
“What time?” Tywanna asked curiously. She shot a glance at the digital clock on the dresser for help.
“Time for me to go back to Atlanta. I want you to stay here with granddad and grandma.”
“OK, when are you coming back?” She askedfeeling the finality of the statement.
“Here you go, it’s from what we made that night,” Cam said skirting the question and handing her a bag of cash. “This is for college, its ten grand.”
“I don’t want it!” she said, scooting away from the money as if not accepting it would make the problem go away.
“I still have to leave baby.”
“Well I’m coming too!” Tywanna said and jumped up to pack.
The girls’ desperation was breaking his heart but what could he do? The score was lopsided and had to be settled. Dying he could live with ,but Chris living he couldn’t.
This is when she broke into the world famous ‘Dope Girl’ rant. The sweet, mild mannered girl was so enraged it sent chills up Cam’s spine. He was moved but it changed nothing. Murder was murder and some people had to die.
“Easy lil’ mama,” Cam cooed as he embraced her tightly. The feisty girl swirled and fought to get free but he held on firmly. It wasn’t easy though because the push-ups, sit- ups, and pull-ups her grandfather had her doing had paid off. Not only was she pretty, she was pretty strong.
It had taken several minutes until the struggle turned into sobs. Cam held his daughter and let her get it all out. Since men don’t cry he remained stoic. When her painful protest subsided he released his hold. After tossing the numbered bank books on the bed he walked out.
Cam walked out to the hallway where he came to find out, men do cry. He plucked one of the tears from his check and stared curiously at it. In it he saw the faces of all the men and women whose lives ended at either his gun or his command. He was feeling real soft until his father came out into the hallway.
******
“I’m not going to college!” Tywanna spat and flung the cash around the room. It was the first time in her life she made it rain cash; it wouldn’t be the last.
She seethed in silence for an hour vowing to be a dope girl and everything else her father warned her against. Losing the most important person in her life again was too much. It hardened her heart a little and one day the world would feel the results of it. When she finally ventured out of her room she found her grandmother in pretty much the same state as her.
“Where’s grandpa?” Tywanna asked taking a seat next to her distraught grandmother on the sofa.
“Gone. He left with your father, they’re both gone,” she said with a finality that turned the water works on.
Now it was her turn to be the comforter as she held the old woman in her arms. Hugs always seemed to help the tears flow, so she squeezed until they were exhausted.
Several hours later grandma Deidra’s seldom used cell phone began to ring. She immediately took the call, knowing it could only be one of the two people who had the number.
“Hello my son,” she smiled upon hearing Senior’s voice.
Tywanna smiled along with her eagerly listening to this side of the conversation. She instantly regained her attitude once it was obvious that her father got on the line. She was just waiting for him to ask to speak to her.
“Nope!” Tywanna said stubbornly shaking her head from side to side. “If he wanted to talk to me he shouldn’t have left me!”
“Come back to New York and we can talk all you want!” She yelled in the direction of the phone.
“She’s not ready to talk yet baby,” grandma babied to her grandson. She patted the hostile girl’s leg as she spoke in an attempt to comfort them both simultaneously. “Just kill whoever you have to kill and come on back to us.”
Chapter 15
If there was a bright side to the men leaving it was Deidra finally having the girl all to herself. It was evident that someone instilled some basic principals into the girl at some point but her lack of proper upbringing was clear. She had a solid foundation built by her grandparents for Deidra to expound.
She had no doubt that her clever grandson was teaching the girl to hustle. Deidra had been in the hood long enough to know what all the empty baby food jars in her kitchen were all about. Somebody had been cooking crack in her pots. The term crackpot came to mind and spread a smile on her face.
Deidra also knew who and what her son was. She knew full well what he was teaching her. She could recall her coming home with black eyes and busted lips initially. Then it was her son coming home with busted lips once she mastered what was being taught.
It was now time for the girl to learn to be a lady. While a boy can manage to become a man without the benefit of having one around, the same does not hold true for a women. It takes a woman to raise a woman.
Many years back a customer of Kathy’s sick pedophile service complained because Tywanna had soiled herself. She ascertained that stinking was a way to keep the sick men from touching her. She used her foul smell as molester repellant.
Unfortunately, actions become habit and bathing became a low priority. Back home a couple of cold showers a week would do. Especially, since she didn’t have many clothes to change into. Itmade no sense getting clean to put on dirty clothes.
Fortunately, since coming to New York Tywanna began to enjoy hot showers every day. She also learned to appreciate fresh clean clothes to put on even if they’d come from the dollar store.
Her hygiene had greatly improved but grandma still had a lot to teach. It was time for Diva 101.
“Grandma!” Tywanna exclaimed, embarrassed as her grandmother walked in on her shower. Still extremely shy about her nakedness she protested her presence.
“Chill out girl! Grandma needs to show you a thing or two.” Deidra said dismissing her protest. “First, here!”
“What’s this for grandma?” she asked as she accepted the pink razor. “I ain’t got no mustache!”
“No but you got a beard!” grandma laughed at
her own joke. “Start with that afro down ‘there’, then them under arms, legs, everywhere except your head.”
Tywanna didn’t quite understand but she was obedient. As soon as Deidra cleared the room she cleared the areas. After removing a thick pubic bush she shaved her underarms. Next, came the jungle on her legs and next luckily her grandmother came to check on her.
“No!” Deidra yelled, just as Tywanna raised the razor to her eyebrows.
“You said everywhere but my head,” she whined at the admonishment. “Just kidding grandma.”
“Well everywhere but there too!” Or else we would have to draw them back on and you’ll be walking around looking surprised like the rest of these chicks out here,” Grandma chided.
“All that hair makes you sweat and sweat makes you smell,” Deidra explained. “Now put your clothes on so we can get you something done to that mop.”
Once Tywanna got out of the shower and dried off she immediately felt the benefits of shaving were told. The deodorant glided on easily as opposed to clumps stuck in her underarm hair. She even felt cooler in her panties from shaving down there.
“Gotta buy you some real clothes,” grandma said scoffing at the girl’s beloved dollar store sweats.
“More sweat pants?” Tywanna asked enthusiastically.
“No real clothes,” Deidra replied as their cab pulled to a stop in front of them.
When grandma didn’t budge the driver honked the horn in exasperation. He was about to pull off until he glanced over and saw who it was.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Forrest, I didn’t know it was you who called,” he said, urgently as he rushed to open the back door.
“That’s quite alright dear,” she replied sliding into the back seat, as he held the door opened and then closed it behind her. She was a true diva, and divas do not open doors. “Take us to Fatimah’s on 145th please.”
“Yes ma’am, right away ma’am,” the diver said eagerly as he pulled from the curb.
“A man will treat you the way you demand to be treated, do you understand?”
