by Nako
“SHE’S LIVING HER BEST LIFE; SHE DESERVES THAT YOU KNOW! WE BOTH DO!”
Casey almost took all their lives with the intensity of him smashing on the breaks of his foreign vehicle.
“HUH?”
“Mom.”
Casey’s patience was out of the window.
“She needs a break. She will contact you when she’s ready,” Missy said, firmly.
He knew that his mom was lying, yet, he didn’t understand why.
Carmen had to have her heard her wrong.
“Just tell her where her mom is!”
“Shut up Casey. Carmen your mother said she needed a break. She was tired of living for everyone else and not herself.”
Missy was done holding secrets. She was fucking done.
“Are you serious?” she didn’t believe Missy at all.
She then had the nerve to ask, “She doesn’t have AIDS…. does she? Do you have…it?”
Casey asked her, “Where in the hell did that come from?”
He was in the car with two crazy, dramatic and delusional women. Neither could point the finger at the other.
Missy shook her head, “Honey, I haven’t had sex with your father in years…. when I say years, I mean years.”
Casey blew out a deep and very loud irritated breath that he’d felt like he had most likely been holding since his father passed. Being the head of the family and the only sane one for goodness sake…. wasn’t easy.
“Mom, we didn’t want or need to know that.”
He could’ve spoken for himself because Carmen was quite relieved.
She hated to be thankful for her life and good health and had been sure to get tested every six months to be sure but as of now, she was still clear of the deadly disease.
“I don’t understand,” Carmen was at a loss for words.
Tears ran down Carmen’s face as she tried her hardest to process the revelation of her precious mother being alone in a room, holding onto her slipping sanity. Why would she push her away?
She couldn’t understand it. She was a good person.
“Take me to her…” she told her brother, in a low and tired tone.
η
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, Nehemiah was up at the crack of dawn. Five thirty to be exact. A habit picked up during a small stint in prison but somehow, he only rose early on Tuesday and Thursday. His feet hit the carpet and he stifled a yawn. No matter how tired he was, he got up and handled his business. His spirit was still quite heavy due to Money’s passing. He was used to being with his brother every day and it had taken some time to re-adjust.
Neezy padded through the room, grabbing a thin brown sheet that he used as a prayer mat and went into the closet that he turned into a space for meditation.
He burned a stick of sage as he sat on the floor and crossed his legs in front of him. Honestly, he hated the position, so he came from out of it and rested his weight on his legs with his hands planted in front of him.
He took a deep breath and stretched his arms, moving his neck around and exhaling whatever he woke up with that wasn’t positive and inhaled the essence of his ancestors. Many people didn’t understand his life change, nor did he bother explaining it. What’s for you is for you, that was his mantra. He possessed a peace that he’d never had before. After he meditated and calmed his mind, he stood up and exited the closet. Leaving the mat where it was, he made sure to grab the sage stick as he walked through his loft, swinging the stick to ensure that it hit every corner of his home.
Once he felt as if all negative energy was pushed out, he put it out before ambling into his kitchen to grab a glass bowl. Not just any ole bowl though, it was a souvenir from a trip to Africa. In the glass vessel was a half-burnt piece of charcoal. Neezy lit the charcoal and watched it until it turned white. Once it reached a certain temperature, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a Ziploc bag where he kept his crystals. Rich minerals of Benzoin, Frankincense and Dragon blood could be felt and smelled. He only needed a small pinch of each to start his day. With promises of prosperity, wisdom, peace and good fortune, he placed them on top of the charcoal and repeated the same routine as the sage.
He stopped praying for money and financial blessings a long time ago. Instead, he asked God to bless him with the wisdom, health, strength and knowledge to go and get the bag himself.
He showered, made his bed, fixed some breakfast, dressed quickly and then he was out the door. Neezy felt good about the day ahead of him.
Neezy hadn’t had a reading since his brother was shot and he didn’t plan on getting one any time soon. He preferred to live his life without the predictions. It was his personal preference. Many people that followed the same path he did, allowed the readings to dictate their day. Neezy disagreed.
His brother was into the readings, heavy.
He didn’t have much to do but just the energy surrounding him felt…new, which in return was liberating.
His days of being all over the place were behind him.
Back in the crib by seven and in the bed by ten was going to have to become satisfying. Nehemiah was twenty-seven years old and Money’s death made him feel as if he was nearing forty.
He unlocked the doors to his Tesla and slid in.
Lately, he’d been vibing to different artists who were in the Neo-Soul genre. That paired with a double-stuffed Backwood…it was a perfect combination for his early morning errands. He was amid the early morning traffic of people needing to get to work.
It always made him feel regular. He loved being amongst common-folk.
His brother’s death woke him up.
However, he was still flying them birds down south. Because the saying, Once a hustler, always a hustler, sort of rang true in his life.
He was good at it and the streets had a hold on him. He considered dibbing and dabbing into Real estate, Music and even Photography. Life was worth living. If it fulfilled him, he should do it. The what and why had been his hold up. His main thing right now was getting money... Neezy was on a natural high. Floating over the bullshit. Refusing to acknowledge anything that doesn’t make him better. There was this post that he saw while lurking on his niece’s page to make sure she wasn’t being grown on the gram that read, “Maintaining your peace is a full-time thing.”
It took energy and effort to ensure that you constantly vibrated over the bullshit. Nothing could tamper his joy. Money would’ve been happy that he was coasting right now. He would be even more elated if he figured out what he was doing with his life, but he was still wealthy so luckily, he wasn’t pressed to figure it out right away. His Ma Dukes had raised her two boys around the notion of work hard and live according to the ten commandments. Although it seemed as if they both went down what she would consider the wrong path. One day he planned on eventually finding his way back to the light.
And, he was going to make his brother proud.
η
“This is me sending good vibes to everyone that walked in here this morning, ya feel me?” Big Moses said with an immense, warm smile on his face. He was all about energy and vibrating higher these days.
“Nigga, is that a sage stick in your hand?” Porter asked his best friend.
Moses scratched at a small patch of gray hair that had grown in the middle of his beard. He hated it whereas his wife swore it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen on a man. Her man.
“Yeah, I’m in tune with me, it’s called self-care nigga. You should try it,” he eyed him carefully.
Porter, who had grown accustomed to downplaying any and every little thing waved him off.
“Yeah, yeah, what does the sage do?”
Niggas knew they’ll take something they seen someone else do on Instagram and run with it.
“If you gon’ ask using that tone then it’s really no point in me explaining the meaning behind it,” he pointed out.
Porter gave up on the conversation. He didn’t have time to be playing around with his ass.
Xavier, anoth
er one of his buddies was rolling a blunt when he decided to chime in.
“It’s too early…y’all niggas are on a hundred.”
Moses let him know, “Well, when you got a million kids who gotta be out the house for summer camp—"
“Aye! What did you call us here for?” Porter cut him off and questioned.
He had a busy day and as comfortable as he often was when he was at his best friend’s crib, today wasn’t the weekend or a holiday so he needed to keep it moving.
“Few more minutes…”
These niggas didn’t have no patience. It was disappointing.
Xavier lit the blunt and took a few pulls before passing it to Moses who shook his head. “Trying to cut back,” he tapped his heart twice to let his brothers know the shit was getting serious.
His health was out of whack and he had to be around to see his kids get grown. He was slowing it down these days. Moses went from one-hundred blunts to not even ten a week. Progress.
“Proud of you,” Ashton chimed in.
Porter was too. He clapped his hands together.
“That’s what I’m talking about big homie!”
Collectively, they’d been worried about Moses and his weight, but it seemed as if he was finally taking their advice.
Porter only indulged when he wanted. It wasn’t a bad habit or something that he was addicted to. He couldn’t speak for anyone else.
“Well, me and Ash gon’ bust this down. Is Juice coming?” he still smoked as well.
Moses shook his head, “I think he in Sweden or something.”
They were proud of him too. He’d surpassed his own damn goals. Juice was out of here. He made his first billion last year and they’d barely seen him since, he made sure to come around for the holidays. No one took it personal; the young man was grinding, and he was truly in his prime.
“He’ll be around next weekend for Maddie’s birthday,” Porter let them know.
“Glad you said that I need to remind Teka to take ten thousand out the safe,” Moses snapped his fingers.
Ashton looked at him, “Ten thousand for what nigga?”
Porter and Xavier wanted to know as well.
“Did you see the birthday gifts at uh…what’s the baby name?”
Mahogany and Porter had so many fuckin’ kids he could never keep up with their names.
“Stop acting like I got a Brady Bunch; we have the same amount of kids!” Porter tittered.
Moses needed to really consider doing stand-up comedy.
“Who got the same amount of kids?” Xavier chortled.
Porter looked at him, “Oh, nigga you got jokes?”
Moses was laughing so hard, he had to hold his chest.
“Anyway, anyway, man listen Teka ol’ cheap ass felt so bad when we got in the car. The baby got more Gucci than she does!”
He refused to come half-stepping at the next party.
“Ain’t you the god daddy?”
Moses nodded his head, “Exactly!”
He had to come correct.
“We just appreciate the support and showing up, it’s not about the gifts,” Porter wanted them to know.
“Nah its cool, P. At least I know when my baby turns twenty-one you gon cop her a Bentley.”
Porter Bavay’s money was long. Moses was living off investment properties and his wife.
They smacked hands and then the doorbell rang.
“That’s my boy…”
He got up from the couch slowly but surely and took the steps.
“Y'all think he okay?” Ashton hated to ask but he was a tad bit concerned.
“Yeah, yeah. He good. If the nigga used to be skinny then I would be worried. He big boned,” Porter told them.
Moses was going to be fine.
He returned with someone walking behind him down the steps.
From where P sat, he couldn’t see.
Xavier wasn’t with new niggas coming around especially without warning, so he asked, “Who is this?”
Porter trusted Moses and knew that he wouldn’t have just anyone in his crib, where his kids and lady laid their head. However, he wasn’t strapped so he stood up and stuffed his hands into his trousers. He had several meetings today, but his presence had been requested at the Parks’ Residence. So here he was.
Once he was on his feet, he got a good look at the invited guest.
“The plug.”
Everyone looked at P.
Moses knew who he was.
Porter did too. They attended Money’s funeral together.
They both used to cop from him and his brother….and were sincerely saddened by the news of his passing.
He took a few steps forward and looked the nigga up and down.
“Damn boy. You done gained some weight,” he talked shit like only he could do.
The man’s smile graced slowly from one corner of his mouth to the other.
Ashton and Xavier didn’t know what the hell was going on.
They were younger than P and Big Mo but knew that they both used to be heavy in the streets and everyone knew Money which was crazy that they hadn’t heard of Neezy’s hot-headed ass.
“I know you tired of hearing it but bro, I am still sorry…for your loss,” Porter told him, holding onto his emotions.
His tone was low. Deadly and hardly audible. He’d seen him raise his voice on rare occasions.
“Motherfucking Pretty Boy P,” Neezy spoke, coolly. He didn’t want to discuss Money; he was here on business.
Porter was probably one of the few people who had seen him cry.
“It’s good to lay eyes on you, baby.”
Porter drew him in for a hug, greeting him with love and a lot of respect.
Neezy was younger than him but was a thorough ass nigga.
“How you been?” Neezy asked, genuinely.
“Life is good, bro.”
That was one thing that was for certain.
Porter was blessed and highly favored.
“These are my guys, Ashton and Xavier…y’all, this is my brother from another mother, Neezy,” Moses handled the introductions.
“What it do?”
Everyone dapped each other up and then took seats on the leather furniture that was arranged in the basement.
Porter would bet a few million dollars that Neezy was well off. IF he was broke...someone got over on him or maybe a bitch ran off with the sack, but he was a smart dude. He couldn’t ever imagine him being played like that. He would love to know what this meeting was about and what he had to do with it because Moses knew good and damn well that P didn’t fuck off in the streets.
“I brought everyone here today for a reason. P already knows Neezy status in the streets and he’s certified. His brother passed, y’all know Money…”
They all nodded their heads.
Porter folded his arms across his chest.
This was going to be interesting, he thought to himself.
“The new thing is oil and dispensaries. Neezy has some land and is looking for investors to get in on this shit,” Moses explained.
“Where is it?” The question came from Xavier.
“Idaho.”
The nigga most likely had acres all over the United States.
His big brother, P’s OG was who told him to never ever sell your real estate. It was something that you could always cash in on if needed be. A rainy day was unpredictable, mishaps happened all the time in the hood. No matter how rich or wealthy you thought you were, it was always good to keep a few properties in your portfolio.
“You still doing your thang?” Porter asked out of curiosity.
Neezy moved his hands up and down, “It’s there if needed.”
Porter didn’t need stocks in anything else, but he would pass it along to some trusted friends who was into weed and shit. He checked the time on his Audemar, “I’m going to pass, and I got somewhere to be.”
He fished his keys out of his pocket and then dapped everyone up, biddi
ng his farewell.
“You good?” Moses wanted to know.
Porter nodded his head, “Yeah. I’m gravy. Neezy, I’ll run into you soon, brother. Good to see you. Keep your head up.”
After he left, the room stilled.
Moses picked the conversation up.
“It’s a lucrative opportunity that I don’t want y’all to miss out on because y’all see P didn’t hop on. He’s richer than all of us put together so his wants and needs are different,” he kept it real with them.
“How much you putting in?”
Neezy also wanted to let them know, “If none of y’all invest, the land is still being used.”
He didn’t need any help or handouts, truth be told. He was doing just fine. Moses was the one interested.
“I put up half a mill.”
Marijuana was always how he ate, that and real estate.
“Can we fly out there first and check it out?” Ashton inquired.
Neezy looked at Moses and smirked, “Big Mo, it’s your call, these your peoples.”
Meaning if some shit popped off, Big Mo was going to have to pull the trigger on these niggas.
“They clear.”
He needed to get going as well, “Cool. We’ll set it up.”
He didn’t say goodbye, nor did he dap them up as Porter had done.
“I can see my way out.”
Neezy took the steps and closed the basement door behind him, or at least that’s what they thought.
“Why he got all them beads on his ankles and shit?”
Moses said, “That’s his religion nigga. He the one got me doing the sage and stuff. Man, he used to be fucking crazy…nigga way calmer now. I’m trying to be Zen too.”
“Why I ain’t never heard of him, it seems a lil’ suspect.”
He chuckled to himself.
Cus real niggas move in silence.
“You probably haven’t heard of him but trust me, whoever you copping from, got it from him or his brother. That’s facts.”
“Is he a part of The Underworld?”
“Nah, them niggas reign ended a long ass time ago, lil’ homie.”
Moses changed the subject to the land and how important it was for them to snatch up the opportunity and that’s when Neezy crept up on and out of the house.
