Ghetto Girls Too

by Anthony Whyte

  “He may not wanna live but he’s mine. He owes me his life and after all the fuss to get him here, he’s gonna live. Right, doc?” Kowalski asked moving closer to Lil’ Long.

  “Well, luckily the bullets passed right through the chest cavity barely grazing his spine on exit. Ah...there is one round caught under his chest next to his spinal column that may require additional surgery...ah...he can live with this for awhile but eventually...”

  “Doc, doc,” Detective Kowalski said and raised his hand. “Doc, you can go ahead and explain and discuss all that medical possibilities with my superiors. The only thing I wanna know is, is he gonna be able to talk to me anytime soon?”

  “All right, even though further surgery will be required to repair the bullet damages, the patient will be able to talk to you as soon as he wakes up,” the doctor said, his voice becoming terse. He viewed his charts before continuing. “At the moment, all things being equal, Michael Lowe should be able to regain all normal functions.” The doctor looked up to see that both detectives were busy leaving the room.

  Outside the door, Kowalski spoke with the uniform on duty. “I want that prisoner transferred to the prison infirmary as soon as possible. Where’s the other guy?” He asked gruffly.

  “Ah, he took a smoke-break, detective,” the uniformed officer answered.

  “When he gets back, have the prisoner escorted and let me know immediately as soon as it’s done.”

  “Gotcha, detective. That’s a ten-four.” The detectives walked away. “Asshole,” whispered the uniform under his breath.

  Neither said anything as they waited on the elevator. When it arrived, they got on and rode to the main floor. They walked to the end of the corridor of the hospital. The door parted and medical technicians rushed by pushing a gurney with a teen dripping blood from holes in his body. The detectives took a deep breath and casually walked on.

  Dusk had drawn closer as they stood outside for a moment. Kowalski lit a cigarette and exhaled directing smoke at the sky. Hall stood next to the car and stared at the city’s darkening skyline thwarted by the smog from the high rises. He could barely see the stars. Kowalski leaned closer to him. “Hall, I know you’re my partner but you’re lacking enthusiasm. We could bust this case wide open if you do certain things.”

  “Really?” Hall replied. “And just what are you suggesting I do?”

  Kowalski thought about it as he puffed heavy on the cigarette. He subsequently exhaled and all the smoke temporarily hid his facial expression from Hall’s curious glance.

  “All you have to do is show your kid brother all the evidence gathered.”

  “Huh?” Hall was befuddled.

  “I took the liberty of looking at the forensic report. It showed...”

  “You went on my desk and pilfered those reports?”

  “Yes,” Kowalski said and got inside the driver’s side of the car. He was nodding his head when Hall jumped on the passenger side. “Yes, you may say that. I guess you learned all them fancy words in those classes of yours, uh, Hall? Pilfer? Yeah, I looked at the report.”

  “Listen, I don’t know how you used to conduct yourself around other partners but as the senior detective here, I’m saying to you stay off my fucking desk. Anything you need to know about the case will be supplied to you by me. Do you have that straight, Detective Kowalski?”

  “Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. Now forensic tests proved negative on our man, Eric Ascot. There was no bullet residue on his clothes according to the reports which proves what we’ve been saying all along. He’s covering up something. Also...”

  “Can I see the damn report myself?” Hall asked in a tone suggesting annoyance.

  “Sure, I took the liberty of making a copy and bringing it with me just in case.”

  “Where is the copy?”

  “Here,” Kowalski said as he reached under the sun visor and tossing the papers at Hall.

  “You got coffee stains all over my damn paperwork.”

  “I didn’t say I was perfect, detective,” Kowalski mocked. “Those bullets that killed the young lady from our man’s apartment came from the same gun and are identical to the rounds that were used to kill our mob connect, Busta, and the two police officers they found by the roadside. They’re not through searching.”

  “I can read, dammit!”

  “That’s right. What do you say we go to a funeral? I heard all kinds of celebrities will be there.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Funerals are supposed to be a morbid affair, a time of parting ways with loved ones, permanently. It’s usually a sad time filled with tears. The death of a person is celebrated in different ways. This affair was part of Busta’s last will and testament. Cars and fans lined the streets outside of Sosa’s Funeral Home. The crush of crowd blocked the streets around the area of the hall as fans tried desperately to catch a glimpse of their favorite rap royalties in attendance.

  The big gathering attracted people from all walks of life. It seemed like Busta, during his existence, had touched a lot of folks and they came in droves to celebrate his life. Coco, Deedee and Josephine all dressed in black, stood next to a balcony watching the turnout.

  “There goes Kim from the block. What she doing up here with her coked-up half-Rican-friend, Tina?” Coco immediately asked as she recognized two of the attendees.

  “Who’re you talking ‘bout, Coco? And what half Puerto?”

  “I’m talking bout them two underdressed heifers coming through, y’all...” Coco started to say but was cut off by Josephine’s sly remark.

  “Do I detect a lil’ bit o’ hatred in that tone thurr, girl?” Josephine asked then winked at Deedee. “What do you have to say, Dee?”

  “It could be...”

  “Call it what it is then.”

  “No, I ain’t hating. All that you hearing is the frustration of a young black woman. That’s it, yo. You believe this bitch thinks that I knew ‘bout her baby daddy and Bebop,” Coco said eyeing the girls who were causing heads to spin everywhere they turned.

  “Who are these girls? They dressed like dancers, Coco.”

  “Word Jo, they’re really wack. They are dressed like they stole the clothes from the toddler’s department at Macy’s,” Deedee said laughing. Coco and Josephine joined as the girls chuckled. Josephine continued to do some prying.

  “Where did all this beef start, Coco? Really though, I ain’t never hear you mention any of this before now, girl.”

  “C’mon, Jo, there are lots of issues that I don’t really be speaking on cuz...” Coco started to speak and her voice trailed for a beat before she continued. “Jo, you know me, I don’t be speaking on shit like this but this bitch had the audacity to spread my name around the way saying I knew ‘bout her man and got me involved with all that killing and bs.”

  “Yeah? Who’s her baby daddy supposed to be?”

  “Remember that nigga that used to be up on Tenth Ave hustling?”

  “Where you used to cop that chocolate chip?” Josephine asked licking her lips.

  “Yeah, you remember that cookies an’ cream.”

  “How could I forget? That shit was the bomb!”

  “The cookies an’ cream...He sold ice cream?” Deedee asked with a confused frown. Both Coco and Josephine burst into uncontrollable laughter. They laughed so hard that they had to embrace to keep each other from falling over the balcony’s edge.

  “Okay, what did I say that was so funny?” Deedee asked when it was safe to do so.

  “Cookies an’ cream and the chocolate chip that we were talking about, that was us referring to the blizack.” Josephine said holding her breath to prevent from an outburst but then she glanced at Coco desperately biting her lips to prevent from laughing.

  “The blizack?” Deedee asked cautiously but it wasn’t guarded enough and Coco and Josephine erupted gleefully once again.

  “I’m not gonna say anything else,” Deedee said crossing her arms against her chest.

  “No,
it’s just that all those names we were using, that was all weed, yo.”

  “You guys are soo...”

  “Ah sookie, sookie, here they come,” Josephine announced as Kim and Tina had somehow made their way up the stairs. They both stopped when they saw Coco.

  “What’s poppin’, Coco?” Kim asked.

  “Ain’t a damn thing, Kim. Whatcha you know?”

  “Struggle.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “Oh, you know my girl, Tina, right?” Kim asked.

  “Yeah, how’re ya doing?” Coco asked and looked at Josephine. “These are my girls, Jo and Dee,” Coco said to Kim with a sneer pasted on her pretty face. “Jo, Dee, this is Kim and her girl, Tina.” Somehow it got so tense that the air began to tell that this was much more than just an ordinary introduction. It was more like a show of forces. The combatants stood their ground.

  “Whassup, y’all?” Josephine said. Deedee nodded ever so slightly. The stare-down continued between Coco and Kim. Then almost as quickly as they appeared, they vanished with, “I’ll see ya,”

  “She’s kinda mean,” Deedee remarked when they were out of earshot.

  “That bitch is a punk ass. I’ll whip her in that lil’ ass skirt from here to downtown back to the baby section where they boosted that shit,” Josephine said. “Yo, Coco, who was that witch’s baby daddy?” Josephine asked.

  “I done told ya already.”

  “No you didn’t. You were just talking bout that nigga hustling with da black,” Josephine said and squinted her eyes when she realized the person Coco was referring to was someone she knew. “You mean Deja?” she asked snapping her fingers. “He was her baby daddy for real?”

  “Which one are you referring to? I don’t know they were both...” Deedee started but Coco raised her hand and waved her finger like a wand.

  “Kim, the bitch with da ugly mug,” Coco answered.

  “I mean, neither was ugly but...”

  “They were two ugly stank bitches and I don’t care for they asses,” Josephine said.

  “What do you know about his death, Coco?” Deedee asked taking cue from Josephine.

  “A friend of mine from da building was found with her baby daddy,” Coco said.

  “Word, he was cheating on her?” Deedee asked.

  “I don’t know nada. If Bebop was creeping with that nigga, she kept it secret. Then after the news broke, homegirl here wanted to step to me like I was Bebop’s sister or sump’n talking ‘bout, ‘Oh, Coco, you had to have known sump’n’,” Coco said looking back at Kim and Tina. “How am I gonna know anything? Just because me an’ you is cool don’t mean I’m gonna be knowing every single thing you do, you feel me?” Coco asked and looked around for validation.

  “That’s true.”

  “That’s real.”

  “Man, Busta, he really knew a lot of peeps, yo,” she continued as the two young ladies pranced by again. “He must have met their asses at the strip club.”

  “From A to Z, everybody is here,” Kim was overheard saying as she made her way through the steadily building crowd. “They even got the news camera and all out here for Busta. People showing him much love,” she continued.

  It was typical that the atmosphere behind Busta’s last rites would be a less than somber one. Those who knew him came out to celebrate. That was the theme for the evening. It was the way Busta had wanted it all to culminate. His friends did the rest. Outside, people rushed to express their views for the cameras camped there. A crowd had formed and each person readily shared their opinions.

  “He was a great friend of mine,” a diminutive, dark skin man yelled when the cameras turned on him. Dressed in black pants and a tie, the man carried a bowler in his hand. He wore a white shirt and sneakers that matched.

  “Yeah, alright, but who was he and who are you?” a curious reporter asked.

  “He was the owner and operator of the hottest hip hop spot in town. He had a lot of talent shows and gave money to charity of which I’m requesting that you donate a nice amount to at this time. It is for a very worthy cause,” Rightchus added as he passed the bowler through the gathered crowd.

  “Hold up. Before we give to any causes, who are you? You related to him or sump’n?” An onlooker had questions but Rightchus came ready with answers.

  “Related? I’m Rightchus,” the man said as he passed the cup around. “Holy terror delight, everywhere I go them haters and suckers want to fist fight. They know that I’ll bust everything in my sight, don’t need no six guns. I got my knuckles. I see you and sump’n comes over me. ‘Tween me and you, that must be love. You to me is the only one that can keep from around drugs. I swear it must be love, baby, ah-ah-ah... You feel me?”

  “Yeah, here is a dollar. Start taking some rap classes,” one guy said and dropped a dollar bill in the bowler. Others took heed and handed over their bucks. The detectives rolled up as the hat was brimming with dollars and Rightchus was smiling with happiness from ear to ear.

  “Five-oh,” Kowalski announced. “Everybody break it up. Stand back,” he yelled. The crowd dispersed. “Hey, if it ain’t Rightchus, my main man,” Kowalski said as he hugged Rightchus. “Let’s go talk somewhere private.” The detective walked with his arms about Rightchus’ shoulder. “So tell me, my man, what’re you doing out here today?” He asked as Rightchus tried in vain to shove all the dollar bills into his pocket while fixing the hat on his head.

  “Yo, I was just spitting my fire for the crowd and they feeling me,” Rightchus said showing the detective his dance moves.

  “That’s it? Spitting your fire?” Kowalski asked.

  “Looks like your fire was well received, huh, Rightchus?” Hall asked.

  “Yeah, sump’n like that. You know I gots da mad skillz and it ain’t no joke. Peeps just gotta respect. With all them hip hop peeps in there, I gotta get a deal or my name ain’t...”

  “Who else is in there that isn’t hip hop?” asked Hall. Rightchus thought for a minute then answered.

  “Ah what’s his face, the godfather...ah, Maruichi, he was up in there...” Rightchus’ voice faded as he thought more of who went inside the funeral home. The detectives exchanged quizzing glances when Rightchus continued, “Eric Ascot and his fiancé, that’s peeps, you know? They up in da building.” Hall whipped out a five dollar bill and stuffed it into Rightchus’ pocket.

  “See ya later,” he said and walked away.

  “That’s how we want Lil’ Long to be once he gets out of the hospital. Who helped turned Rightchus?” Kowalski asked.

  “I have a friend in parole,” Hall said as they reached their Caprice.

  “I guess we’ll wait here,” Kowalski suggested but Hall had other ideas.

  “You can stay here if you want. You’re not dressed well enough. I’m going inside to take a look around,” Hall said as he walked away. Kowalski lit a cigarette, pulled out a pen and pad and started to record license plates.

  FORTY

  Coco, Josephine and Deedee saw it all go down. Restless from waking early for the video shoot, the contact between Coco, Kim and Tina had made them all grumpy. The girls went down the stairs and wandered out of the assembly area. The three looked around before they found a spot that was quiet. There they sat where they could easily see who was approaching without being seen. The girls shared a cigarette away from the crush of people.

  “Trifling ho’s,” Coco exhaled.

  “Later for them.”

  “Folks had mad love for Busta.”

  “What! You see all these stars that came out. Like peeps from Japan and all?”

  “Who you kidding? I ain’t even known the nigga, Busta, was that large, yo.”

  “And I mean large.” Josephine was sucking on the cigarette when she thought she recognized another face. “Yo, ain’t that the guy who plays on ‘The Wire’? Ah sugar, now he’s cute.”

  “Which one?”

  “The light skinned one? He’s a real cutie.”

  “Yo, why y’al
l OD’ing on these celebrities, yo?” Coco asked in a tone that revealed annoyance. Deedee and Josephine turned to look at her as if she had just cursed at them. “I’m saying, we here to pay respects to Busta and all you two have been doing is playing name that celeb. Y’all bugging,” Coco continued in an irritated manner.

  “Can I get some of the cig, Coco?” Josephine asked ignoring her attitude. Coco puffed and stared at her then passed the cigarette. “What can I say? You’re absolutely right, Coco,” Josephine said as she inhaled. She exhaled and continued, “We’re kinda acting a little gully.”

  “A little?” Coco asked shaking her head. “How about extremely gully?”

  “Look! Mef n Red, y’all.” Josephine yelled excitedly and handed the cigarette back to Coco.

  “Oh my god, where?” Deedee asked.

  “You see ‘em, Coco?” Josephine asked.

  “Nah, I don’t see ‘em but I do spot a DT,” Coco said.

  “Where at?” Deedee asked.

  “Heading toward the hall,” Coco said as she puffed.

  “Now I know Busta was huge. I mean, even po-po is showing up at his funeral. That’s big,” Josephine said and took the cigarette from Coco who continued to watch Detective Hall.

  “I know them cops ain’t here on Busta’s account. They probably just here to see who’s here,” Coco said as the dapper Hall moved into the assembly area.

  “Coco, that nigga is five-oh?” Josephine asked.

  “Hell yeah, that nigga five-oh. Can’t you smell him, yo?”

  “That nigga is too fly to be five-oh. I’m saying he could arrest me anytime.”

  “You bugging. That’s it. I’m going back inside,” Coco said and threw the butt away.

  FORTY-ONE

  The hall was huge and surrounded by a balcony. The amount of people in attendance made the place appeared smaller and crowded. Inside, people mingled easy under the hue of a purple light. Most were dressed in black but judging from the glad-handing, there was little or no sadness. Others sipped wine from long stemmed glasses while video clips of Busta’s life were displayed on a huge flat screen on the wall.