by T'Anne Marie
“Wassup Carmen boo, you miss me?” Whack asked, laughing. He knew Carmen couldn’t stand his ass.
“Boo? I ain’t yo boo nigga you better gone!” By this time, Whack had picked Carmen up and started to plant wet kisses all over her face.
“Put me down nigga!” Carmen yelled, as she playfully kicked and punched Whack. He low key had a crush on Carmen; she was cute as hell to him. She was about 5'3" with cold black, long, natural curly hair. She had round doe grey eyes with long, black full eyelashes. Her skin was light and pale, and she had a round, fat face with a cute small button nose. Carmen was shaped like a grown woman; her hips were wide and her butt was big and round. Her stomach wasn’t fat but it wasn’t completely flat either; she had a soft look to her. Whack wanted her bad, but he knew Notorious wasn’t having that in no way, shape, form, or fashion. It still didn’t keep him from trying though.
“I don’t know why you be playing me Carmen, you know you got a thang for me,” he said blowing her kisses.
“Yuuuuck, don’t flatter yourself,” she replied acting as if she was gagging, blocking every kiss he blew her way. “Okay, okay, okay, hush up with the nonsense and eat, and watch ya filthy mouths,” Grams said interrupting the ruckus between Carmen and Whack. She didn’t have to say anything to Notorious and Kyra, they were already digging in. Grams threw down. She made fried chicken, mac and cheese, greens, sweet potatoes, fried corn, and cornbread. To top it off, she made her famous caramel cake for dessert.
“Jesus Christ! You put yo foot in this grandma,” Notorious said with a mouth full.
“Well thank you baby you know I try,” she replied snickering. “Now yawl gone and eat up, when ya done wash ya plates. Grams going to lay down, I’m tired.” She then kissed her grandchildren and their friends and headed to her room.
“What you doing when you leave here big head?” Carmen asked her brother.
Before he could even respond Whack blurted out, “GETTING THIS MONEY! Why baby wassup?” Notorious couldn’t help but to laugh. This nigga a fuckin nut, he thought to himself.
“Wassup sis why, what you need?” Notorious asked. “I was just gon ask can I have some money to go to the mall with Kyra?” Carmen put her spoiled voice on, she knew her brother would never tell her no.
“How yawl getting there?” he asked. He wasn’t about to give his little sister shopping money and just let her ride with anybody.
“We gon catch the bus to the metrolink and ride the metrolink there,” she replied.
“Well, the only way I’m giving you money is if you let me take you,” Notorious said back, the whole time his eyes were on Kyra.
“Okay bet! But u gotta buy me everything I want,” Carmen said with a big smile on her face. She knew she was about to rape her big brother’s pockets. It wasn’t like he didn’t have it to spend anyway. Notorious didn’t care; he just wanted to get closer to Kyra. The four of them finished eating, cleaned Grams’ kitchen, and headed out the front door.
Chapter 3
Whack
Rashad “Whack” Smalls Jr. grew up in a quiet neighborhood in North County of St. Louis MO. He was raised in a home with both parents who were married. His parents were interracial couple. His mom was Korean and Indian and his dad was African American. Rashad Sr. was a well-known drug dealer from the streets, but he did his best at keeping it away from his family. Rashad Jr. was an only child, and he was very spoiled. He attended private school and was a straight A student. He even played lacrosse and baseball, and he was very good at both. His mother was a nurse at DePaul Hospital, which was located just a few blocks from their house. Every time Rashad didn’t have school or played hooky, him and his father went and had lunch with her. They were what you would call “the perfect family”. They had play dates, date night, movie night, and game night every week. Rashad Sr. even made sure he came home every night to tuck his son in and read him a bed time story with his wife. If he had any runs to make, they would have to wait until after. When Rashad was 9, his life drastically changed for the worse. His father was found brutally murdered due to a drug deal gone bad. The police never found who did it. They had no evidence, no witnesses, nothing. The case was cold. After his father’s funeral, his mother went into deep depression. She didn’t talk or eat, she didn’t even leave the house. She didn’t clean up, cook, or bathe. She even ignored him most of the time. All she did was drink, cry, and took prescription pain medication. Over time, instead of his mother getting better she got worse. She was so addicted to the pain meds that they weren’t doing the job anymore. She then graduated to heroin. Rashad used to witness his mother shoot up on a regular. Sometimes she was even bold enough to ask him to hold the tie so she could find a good vein. He never did though, he hated to see his mother poison herself. Everything going on took a toll on young Rashad. With his mother being strung out and his father being dead, he had to learn to fend for himself. He began to steal, rob, and even kill to get the things he needed. When Rashad was 11, he came home and found his mother dead on the kitchen floor. She had overdosed. She still had the tie around her arm with the needle sticking out, and her eyes wide open. Rashad was so angry and filled with rage he couldn’t even cry. He didn’t bother to call the police or ambulance. He knew that if he did he was going straight to foster care. He’d rather take his chances surviving on his own. Rashad had no one he could call on. Both sets of his grandparents were dead, and he had no uncle or aunts because both his parents were an only child just like him. It was just him against the cold world. Rashad ran to his room and grabbed the biggest duffel bag he could find. He stuffed it with as many outfits and shoes as possible. He then rambled and tore the house up from top to bottom looking for cash. He found $634.34. In the process of looking for money, he found a .357 magnum handgun his mother kept under her mattress. Rashad put the gun in the duffel bag with his clothes. Once he had everything he headed for the door, but before leaving he kneeled down kissed his mother on her cold forehead and told her he loved her.
✴✴✴✴✴
Rashad had been living and sleeping in the streets for weeks. He would get on the bus and just ride, when he saw somewhere he wanted to go he got off. The money he had was long gone, so every time the sun went down he found someone to rob. He would sleep on random porches hoping someone would find him and feel sorry enough to help him out. One particular morning his wish came true. He was sleep on a porch and awakened by an elderly woman. “Sugar are you okay, do you need some help?” Grams asked as she shook him. Rashad jumped in shock out of his sleep and looked up at her.
“I’m so sorry ma’am, I just needed a place to sleep,” he replied getting up to gather his things.
“No, no sugar no need to be sorry. Are you hungry? I could make you a nice hot breakfast,” Grams said in concern.
That was like music to his ears, “Yes ma’am, that would be nice,” he replied with a warm smile.
“Well come on in baby,” she said holding the door open and letting him in. Rashad was filthy. His clothes and belongings were black and smelled like trash. His light colored skin was dirty and his curly hair had lent and dirt balls in it. Grams couldn’t stand to see him like that. She had a soft spot for all children, and she was going to make sure she looked out for him.
“Baby would you like to take a nice warm bath and get cleaned up?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied. He couldn’t believe that this lady who didn’t know anything about him was treating him so nicely. Grams headed up the stairs to prepare the water for him. While she was upstairs, Rashad gave himself a tour of the house. He couldn’t believe the house was so nice. By the looks of the outside he thought it would be regular, not all fancy. The house had beautiful hardwood floors. The living room held a pretty white, pink, and blue floral sofa and love seat. There was a big white floral rug in the center of the floor that matched the couches. On top was a gold plated coffee table with a big round glass top. There were two small coffee tables exactly like the big one on eac
h end of the sofa and love seat. Up against the wall was a big gold plated stand with glass shelves filled with family photos. Rashad stood there and observed the photos, they made him think of his parents. He knew that if they were still alive, he wouldn’t be where he was. He knew he would still be living a normal 11-year-old life. He grew angrier every second as he was thinking about it. Tears began to fill his eyes and he began to ball up his fist. He wanted to take his anger out on someone so bad.
“Come on baby, your bath is all ready for you,” Grams said interrupting his thoughts. He didn’t even hear her walk up behind him. Rashad quickly wiped the tears from his eyes before turning to face her. “By the way, what’s your name sugar? I was so worried about you I didn’t even bother to ask.”
“Rashad Smalls Jr.” he replied.
“Rashad, that’s a nice name! Well Rashad, you go up there and you get cleaned up while I fix you breakfast you hear. I put fresh towels and clothes on the sink for you.”
“Thank you so much,” Rashad said gratefully and headed up the stairs. When he got to the bathroom he was speechless. Grams ran him a bath filled with bubbles. His mother always use to put bubbles in his bath water, so by Grams doing it made him feel at home. Rashad took off his clothes and immediately hopped in. He hadn’t had a bath in weeks so the water felt like heaven. He stayed in the bath for about 45 minutes.
After thoroughly cleaning himself, he got out, dried himself, and put on the t-shirt and basketball shorts Grams laid out for him. He was too ashamed for her to see how dirty her tub was so he cleaned it before heading down to the kitchen. When Rashad got downstairs his food was on the table waiting for him. Grams had fixed him cream of wheat, eggs, sausage, and toast with a glass of orange juice to drink.
“Go ahead and eat child, what you waiting on?” she asked. He was just staring at his plate. He still couldn’t believe a total stranger was treating him so well.
“Yes ma’am, I was just trying to figure out what you wanted me to do with these,” he replied holding out his dirty clothes and towels he had just used.
“Oh I’m sorry sugar, you can give them to me. You won’t be needing these anymore,” she said turning to throw them in the trash.
“We’re going to go out and get you some new things so don’t you worry! Now gone and eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
He then sat down and started eating. “So Mr. Rashad, tell me what you were doing sleeping out here in the streets alone? Where are your parents?” Grams asked.
“Well my dad was murdered two years ago. After he passed my mother got addicted to drugs. I found her dead in our kitchen three weeks ago, she had overdosed. I didn’t call the police because I don’t have anyone else left to take me, and I really don’t wanna be an orphan so I packed some things and left,”
Grams was at lost for words, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She could imagine the pain he was going through and it made her cry on the inside. All she could do was give him a big hug. “It’s going to be okay baby; the storm is over. I’m going to take good care of you. Just finish up your food and don’t worry you hear,” She assured young Rashad. She then smiled and pecked him on his forehead.
“Standin on the corner straight slangin rocks, awwww shit her come the muthafuckn cops. So, I run, I duck and I hide behind a tree, making sure the muthfuckas don’t see me!” 13-year-old Dorian was rapping Eazy E’s verse as he was walking through the front door towards the kitchen.
“Boy you better watch that filthy ass mouth of yours!” Grams yelled at her grandson. “And what the hell you doing strolling in here at 9 o’clock in the damn morning? I keep telling yo ass you ain’t grown!” She was hot! Dorian had turned out just like her son. He had been thrown out of school, he would stay out all night until the next morning, and she recently start noticing large amount of money mysteriously appearing in her pocketbook. “I bet you been out there selling them drugs. You gone end up like your damn daddy ya hear!” she shouted in frustration.
“Awwww Grams, what I tell you about all that fussing? You too pretty to be doin all that,” Dorian said with a big grin showing all of his perfect teeth. He then grabbed her, gave her a big hug, and planted several kisses on her face while slipping $500 in the pocket of her house coat.
“Get off me boy,” she said, trying her best not to crack a smile. Dorian was a horrible teenager out in the streets, but he was so respectful and sweet to her. If she didn’t already know, he was something else; he probably would’ve been able to convince her he was the perfect angel.
“If you would act like you got some sense I wouldn’t have to fuss,” she said cutting her eyes at Dorian.
“Aw, come on Grams, don’t do me like that. I wasn’t even doing nothing. I was over Sway house. We was playing the game all night, I got tired a fell asleep,” he lied. He would say anything to keep his grandmother from being upset with him.
“Yeah okay, ya lil ass bet not be lying!” Grams spat. She was so busy jumping down his throat, she forgot they had guest.
“Who is you and why you wearing my clothes?” Dorian asked as he turned to look Rashad up and down as he was sitting at the table.
“Boy hush up! That’s not how you talk to guest. This is Rashad, I found him sleeping out on our porch this morning. He’s going through a horrible time and he needs our help. So he will be staying here for a while. Now I want you to act like you got some sense and treat him good you hear!” Grams told him. “I got you Grams, I’ma take care of the lil nigga,” Dorian said laughing while playfully digging his knuckles in the top of Rashad’s head. “When you done come upstairs,” Dorian said before heading up to his room. When Rashad was finished eating, he quickly ran to Dorian’s room. The door was closed. He didn’t bother to even knock, he just walked right on in.
“Dang lil nigga you can’t knock!” Dorian said as he was quickly trying to tuck away all the money he was counting.
“Aw shit man my bad. I thought it was cool, you told me to come up when I was done,” Rashad replied.
“Aw shit huh? I see you a hip lil nigga huh?” Dorian chuckled. “How old are you?” he asked.
“I’m 11, how old is you?” Rashad questioned back with a little heart.
“Aw I’m just 13, not too much older than you so you cool,” Dorian replied. Rashad couldn’t believe he was only 13. He didn’t, look, talk, walk, or dress like he was that young. Rashad just knew he had to be at least 18. “So where you get all that money?” Rashad asked. “See now you asking too many questions. If I told you I’d have to kill you,” Dorian said.
“Come on man, I ain’t no lil loc. I know the streets I ain’t new to this! So, if you robbin niggas I want in!” Rashad said proudly. He then began reaching in his duffel bag pulling out his gun showing it off to Dorian. This lil blackanese Muthafucka got heart! I like this lil nigga, Dorian thought as he laughed in his head. “Damn nigga hold up! Nah I ain’t no stick up kid, that’s chump change. I gets real paper!” Dorian told Rashad.
“Well how can I get some of that real paper?” he asked. Dorian looked him in his eyes and said
“Stick with me and be loyal and I got you.” He then counted out $100 and gave it to Rashad. “There’s more where that came from, and from now on call me Notorious.”
Rashad knew he had to prove his loyalty to Notorious, and he was going to do just that. Over time, they became thick as thieves. Dorian took Rashad to buy him a new wardrobe and gave him a job as a lookout at the trap house. Rashad was a straight goon and he wouldn’t think twice about laying a nigga down. Notorious nick named him Whack because the lil nigga didn’t play. He had geeks scared to come buy dope. Notorious had to tell him to chill sometimes because he was fuckin up business. One thing was for certain, he was as loyal as a soldier. In no time, Rashad became Notorious’ right hand man. He felt he knew all he needed to know about his new best friend. What he didn’t know was Whack was the son of Rashad “BLACK” Smalls Sr.
Chapter 4
“Damn,
this muthafucka packed,” Notorious said as him, Whack, Kyra, and Carmen walked through the St. Louis Center mall.
“Fuck yea, and these lil scoochies lookin real good up in here too!” Whack replied, while rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.
“Yuck nigga, they don’t want yo ugly mutt lookin ass!” Carmen said, laughing.
“Girl please! You of all people know I’m sexy as fuck. You need to quit playin cuz you know you want a nigga!” He was doing his usual, blowing kisses and licking his tongue out at Carmen. Deep down, she really did have a thing for Whack.
She would never admit it to anyone though, not even herself. “Boy, you fuckin wish,” Carmen spat while rolling her neck and eyes at Whack.
“Why don’t yawl just kiss each other already? Both of yawl got a thing for each other, it’s clear to see!” Kyra said, laughing at the two.
“Shut the fuck up bitch! Who asked yo ass anything any damn way? If anything you supposed to be on my side!” Carmen playfully snapped at her best friend.
“How you gon get mad at her for telling the truth?” Notorious laughed and spoke in Kyra’s defense.
“Nigga, you shut the fuck up too! I’m not mad. You just on her side cuz you tryna get in my friend draws!” Carmen came back laughing.
“Man whateva, but to be honest, I’m tryna get in more than her draws. I’m tryna make her my main squeeze. I wanna get in her heart if she let me,” he said wrapping his arms around Kyra’s waist from behind, planting soft kisses on the back of her neck. “Ahhh hahaha! Nigga you sound like a lil moist ass bitch. You ain’t even got the booty yet and you in love! You might as well buy a ring right now and propose. Sucka ass nigga!” Whack was driving his friend nonstop.
“Fuuuuck yoooou pussy! At least I can admit it. I know yo ass ain’t talkin though bitch boy, cuz my lil sister got yo nose wide the fuck open and she don’t even like yo ass!” Notorious said, taking spotlight off of him.
