Young and Hungry

by Ms. Michel Moore

  Pulling the car over in front of what used to be Pops’s store, Amir kept his high-beam headlights on. He couldn’t believe it. His worst fear had come true. He had not been mistaken. The gigantic fire on the video was indeed burning here. It was at this location.

  “Oh my God! Oh my fucking God! Naw! It can’t be.” He tried getting closer, but in the structure that remained, small scorching hot flames were still shooting up. The blackened wood cracked and smoked, giving off the smell of charred bits of tar. In denial, he looked over toward the back area of the property and saw what looked like both his brothers’ vehicles. Amir was confused. He wondered why they hadn’t been in touch with either him or Pops. Maybe they’d left their cells inside when escaping from the fire. That had to be it. He couldn’t fathom any other reason for them not letting their family know what had taken place. Maybe they were just ashamed that they couldn’t stop the abeeds from burning the store down.

  Taking his own cell phone out of his pocket, Amir stepped over debris and headed toward the alley. Not one bit scared of the ruthlessness people had been displaying since nightfall, he bravely ventured toward what was once the rear exit of the building. He then called Pops, hoping to hear that Mikey and Hassan had shown up at his uncle’s store and revealed to them the tragic news of the fire.

  “Hey, Pops. What’s going on?” He tried his best to remain calm and not alarm his old man.

  “Amir, have you heard from the boys? Did they call you? Why are they not picking up the phone? Why?” Pops had question after question about his sons not being in touch, but Amir had no answers to give his frantic father.

  “I’m headed over there now to check on them. Just sit tight and give me a little bit,” he lied to ease the old man’s worry. After agreeing to call the second he got over to the store, Amir hung up. Still not willing to think the impossible was possible, he walked over to the chain-link fence the cars were parked behind. Standing as close to the surely hot metal gate as he could, Amir could see that the lock was still on it.

  “Oh my God.” His voice started to crack as he started to give up all hope of his brothers being alive. Not knowing what to do next, he started to pace back and forth in the alley, tears forming in his eyes, and a lump in his throat. The lingering smoke made him feel light-headed.

  I gotta sit down. I have to figure this shit out. What am I gonna tell Pops? Oh my God. This is gonna kill my mother. Oh my God!

  Amir walked back down the seemingly empty alley and headed to his car. Before he could put his hand on the door handle, he heard a voice call out his name from the darkness. His first instinct told him to pull his gun out of his hip holster and let off a few rounds. Thank goodness he remained calm, as he quickly found out it was the neighborhood guy Tommy, who always helped out at the store, doing this or that when need be.

  “Hey, Amir. Can I talk to you?” He walked closer to the oldest of Pops’s sons, the strong smell of cheap gin on his breath.

  “Oh, hey, Tommy. What’s the deal? Did you see what happened to the store? And, most importantly, do you know where Mikey and Hassan went off to? Did one of their friends pick them up after the fire started?”

  Tommy didn’t say a word. He just looked over at the one place where he’d made a couple of dollars and shook his head. It was like he was in denial also as he finally struggled to speak. “Ummm, Amir. I ain’t see nobody come get them boys. Or them other two of your kinfolk, either.”

  “Okay, Tommy. Then what you saying? Do you know where they went or not? Is they with that girl that got a so-called baby with Hassan or her bad news brother?” he asked, praying the answer was yes while knowing deep down inside it was no. “You have to tell me, Tommy! Say something! Are they with her! Huh? Are they?”

  Tommy hesitated. His mind started to play the what-if game with the information he was holding on to. He didn’t want to say what needed to be said next. He fought with himself on what to do next. Sick to his stomach, he wanted another strong drink to block out what he’d seen take place. Tommy knew the right thing to do was to tell Amir everything that had jumped off, well, at least what he had seen and heard from the outside of the building. He hoped if the tables were turned, Amir would do the same for him. But he knew in reality that would never happen. Yet before he confessed, Tommy realized that long after Amir had gone back to his elaborate condo miles away from the burnt-out store, he’d be left in the hood, labeled not only a drunk but a snitch as well.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Amir. I can’t get involved in all of this,” he slurred, then swiftly walked away, rubbing his hand on the side of his unshaven face.

  “What in the hell you mean you don’t wanna get involved in this? What exactly the fuck is this? And after all my damn family has done to help you, and you think you don’t owe us?” Amir snatched him back by his shoulder and shoved his gun deep into the inebriated man’s ribs and slow walked him back in the alley. “Now, stop bullshitting around with me, Tommy! Where the fuck are my brothers at?”

  Tommy was terrified. He felt damned if he did tell and damned if he didn’t. Wanting to throw up, he grew dizzy as he breathed in the smoke from the smoldering ruins of the store. He knew death was in the air. He felt like he could taste it for certain as he parted his cracked lips to speak. “There.” He nodded his head in the direction of the burnt-out rear storeroom.

  Amir let his grip on the man’s shoulder go. He didn’t need him to tell him more, insinuate, or draw a road map of what he was saying. Wanting to break down in the alley and ask Allah why, he stood as strong as he could, then made his way back to his car. Sitting down, he reclined the seat and then covered his face with both hands. Allowing the tears to pour out of his eyes, he felt his sorrow turn to rage as he started to bang on the steering wheel, followed by the dashboard. Stopping just shy of causing the air bags to deploy, Amir snatched up his cell phone. Scrolling down his extensive list of contacts, he came to the number of the fire marshal’s right-hand man. Calling the second in command, Amir closed his eyes and waited for the guy to answer. Once, twice, three times it rang, and still no response.

  Just as he was about to go another route, his cell rang. “Hey, guy. I need some help. I need a huge favor,” he said right after taking the call.

  Amir went on to explain that there had been a fire at his father’s party store on the West Side and that he thought his two brothers and his cousins had been trapped inside. Sadly, he told the man on the other end of the line that he knew that they were likely dead, but he couldn’t see because of the darkness, not to mention the fact that remains of the property were still burning and smoking. In spite of the grief and other emotions he was feeling, he knew he was about to ask the man the virtually impossible on a night like this in the city of Detroit. For Pops’s, as well as his uncle’s, sake, he posed his question.

  Of course, he knew what the answer would be. The response was that not one fireman employed by the city would be able to come out and even stand in front of the location in an official capacity. He advised Amir to reach out to either private security or other family members and at least try to stand guard over the area until daybreak. This way if it was true that his four relatives had been trapped in the televised blaze and were now deceased, the scene would not be disturbed or compromised by the countless looters, opportunists and other monsters of the night that this fateful day had allowed to run wild.

  Amir hung up the phone. Confused and desperate, he had to make a quick decision if he hoped truly to get to the bottom of what had taken place with Mikey, Hassan, and his cousins. The older sibling needed to know what or who had prevented them from getting out alive, from escaping a fire that was suspicious in nature. There was only one person whom he trusted to have his back when it came down to it. Black Tone. Amir knew Black Tone was dealing with his own set of problems, with his grandmother having been beaten by Ethan’s nephew, but he selfishly made the call to him just the same.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Black Tone stood in front of t
he hospital emergency room entrance. Alexis had texted him saying she was no more than five minutes away and for him to meet her there. He wondered what was so very important that she was coming way over there to speak to him face-to-face. It was puzzling, to say the least. The entire day, or at least since the power had gone out in the city, had been full of mishaps and the unthinkable happening. It was like he was watching some bad low-budget movie and not actually living it in reality.

  After years and years of Alexis doing her best to avoid any contact with Dre besides hello and good-bye—if forced since they lived in the same house—tonight was different. Tonight was strange. She had come outside not to cheer him on when he was about to mangle her brother’s rotten, devious ass for all the trouble and mayhem he’d caused, but to defend Dre. Black Tone had found it strange while the whole scene played out, but he had had too much on his mind regarding his grandmother’s well-being to give it much thought.

  “What the fuck?” Black Tone mumbled under his breath as Alexis’s car came into view. He rubbed his tired eyes. He felt he must be seeing things. The strange day had just become stranger. Alexis had indeed come to the hospital, just as she’d said she would. However, she wasn’t alone. While she was riding shotgun, Dre was behind the steering wheel.

  None of this bullshit makes sense. What the hell is going on with these two all of a sudden?

  When the vehicle came to a complete stop, Black Tone reached over and pulled up the door handle. As Alexis took her seat belt off and then lifted herself up, he saw she had on a pair of sunglasses. Immediately, he noticed that her face was swollen on one side and her lip appeared to be busted. Raising his eyebrow, Black Tone got heated. He had just calmed down some from seeing his granny’s face battered and bruised, and now he had to deal with this. Both of the most important women in his life were hurt, and he hadn’t been there to protect them.

  “Alexis, what the fuck happened to your face? Who did this? Who? Tell me,” he demanded, blocking her from moving any farther from the passenger seat.

  Alexis was ashamed of what she’d been through at the hands of her small son’s cousins. When she came within arm’s length of Black Tone, she broke all the way down, knowing he would comfort her. After she removed her sunglasses so he could better see her face, Black Tone’s body locked up. Leaning back out of the car, he stood straight up and grabbed the sides of his head with both hands. Applying pressure to his scalp, he closed his eyes as tight as he possibly could. Tilting his head backward, he slowly opened up his eyes and looked at the bright, scattered stars that filled the sky. After silently questioning God as to why all these things had happened to him today, he looked over at Dre, who had gotten out of the car.

  “Yo, man, come over here. Let me holler at you on the real about some shit.” Dre nodded his head toward the rear of the car. “We need to kick it before I leave my sister with you.”

  Black Tone sympathetically looked once more in the car, at Alexis. His best friend had stopped crying, had her arms folded and snuggly pressed against her chest, and was rocking back and forth. Not knowing what to do or say, Black Tone did as Dre had asked. Standing near one of the taillights, he demanded that Dre tell him what the hell had happened to Alexis. Not in the mood to mince words, Dre began to run down the whole story. Not scared of anything or anybody’s judgments or any consequences, and definitely not remorseful about what he felt had to be done, Alexis’s older brother didn’t leave out a single thing. He knew Black Tone was especially close with Amir and his family and practically ran Detroit Live for him, but so fucking what? This was Alexis we were talking about.

  “Yeah, dawg, I got a nine-one-one text from my sister this evening, before dark,” Dre revealed.

  “Yeah, she texted me too,” Black Tone interjected.

  “Well, it said she was up at the store. So at first I ain’t think nothing about it. You know how she be when she get going on a nigga. I thought maybe she was just cussing Hassan ho ass out for not buying the baby some new shoes or something.”

  Black Tone nodded his head in agreement. He knew Alexis was known for having a short fuse when she felt she was being wronged, and he wondered if she was the one that set the store on fire, perhaps by accident.

  “But then something came over me. I dunno what the hell it was. It was just a damn crazy feeling, so I stopped what I was doing and headed that way.” Dre paused in telling the story. “Matter of fact, that’s when I saw that dick-sucker nigga pushing that white truck. I almost ran his ho ass off the road.”

  “Yeah, that nigga. He as good as dead, but go on, guy. Finish.” Black Tone frowned from even thinking about Li’l Ronnie still alive out in the streets, as if he had gotten away with something as horrible as beating up on an old woman, not to mention stealing his money.

  Dre went on. “So yeah, when I got up to the store, I already knew they was closed for the day. I was up there earlier, kicking it with Hassan, when they was locking it down. I seen Alexis’s car parked around the back, so me and my boys pulled back there. I had knocked on the door more than a few good times when some random ho-ass sand nigga came yelling through the door, trying to go for bad. Man, I swear that motherfucker was going like he couldn’t get got.”

  Black Tone knew that had to have been one of the bigmouthed twins who always caused trouble and were the known black sheep of Amir’s family.

  “Well, finally, after that fool kept running off at the mouth, Hassan came to the door, talking that bullshit. I asked him to let me talk to my sister, and both them clowns kept saying she wasn’t inside. I mean, what the fuck they was lying for? Shit. She had just texted me she was there, so I wasn’t just dreaming that bullshit, ya feel me?”

  “Right, right,” Black Tone mumbled as he looked through the rear window of the car to see if Alexis had stopped rocking back and forth. She hadn’t. He then returned his full attention to Dre. This was the most interaction the two of them had had since Dre used to jump on both him and Alexis as kids just for fun.

  “I kept banging on that bitch and told them I was gonna run my car up in that motherfucker if they ain’t send my little sister out. I kept calling her cell, and it kept going to voice mail. So a nigga like me was seconds away from getting back in the ride and going straight movie gangsta on them and that store. Just then I heard gunshots!” Dre finished giving Black Tone a blow-by-blow account of exactly what had popped off from the time Alexis cracked the rear store door and let him inside until the minute she came out on their front porch to take up for him when he was accused of bringing harm to Granny.

  Black Tone was enraged. What Dre had told him made his soul ache. He couldn’t believe it. He had encountered the twins before and knew they were capable of rape and just about anything else. But Mikey and Hassan, Amir’s little brothers . . . He was stunned. Black Tone knew Mikey was a coward. The entire world knew that. Yet he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Hassan would allow those two idiots to violate Alexis. Black Tone was fully aware that Hassan had not told his ailing mother about the biracial relationship he was in or about his small son. But the rest of his immediate family knew about Alexis. They might not have accepted her as kin and would taunt Hassan for his choices, but they still would never go that far, especially Mikey. It didn’t make any sense, none of it.

  Dre and Black Tone spoke a little bit longer to get a deeper understanding of what had to happen next in order to make sure that both he and Alexis could walk away clean and free after having committed murder and arson. For the time being, it was decided that Alexis, after getting treated at the hospital, would stay with Black Tone. And Dre, who was built for this type of thing, would go back to the neighborhood and stand tall, like he had done no wrong and knew nothing about the crimes, which they all three felt were justified. Normally, it was just Alexis and Black Tone who ran together and was thick as thieves. But this time around Dre, their frequent enemy, was strangely and finally a part of their secret club. The table for two had just grown to a bo
oth. If they stuck together, maybe they could make the lie seem like the truth.

  Of course, Black Tone was far from being a fool. He knew that when Amir found out that not one, but both of his brothers were dead, having been shot and burned to death, there would be hell to pay. He’d want revenge on those responsible for the deed, no matter what their reason was for doing it, and honestly, Black Tone couldn’t blame him.

  “This shit is messed up, but we gonna make it do what it do.” Black Tone angrily slammed a closed fist down on the corner of the trunk, creating a gigantic dent. Startled by the sound, Alexis was shaken out of her trance and called out for her most recent protector, Dre. After she asked Dre to please help her out of the car, because her legs were weak, Black Tone took over and picked Alexis up in his arms. Then he told Dre that he could go home and that he would keep him posted. He then softly kissed Alexis on her forehead and disappeared behind the hospital doors.

  * * *

  In between avoiding calls from Pops and just outright lying to him, Amir was growing weary of standing guard himself. He was like a fish out of water. Most of the people that were up to no good this time of the night were thinking about trying to rob him as well. He’d tried to call everyone he knew who could possibly come and help him. But all his close friends either had their own businesses to guard over on this terror-filled night or had flat out refused to take a chance and come into the city. He was running out of options.

  Black Tone had finally texted back, explaining that there was no way he could leave his grandmother’s side, even if there had been a fire and Mikey and Hassan were missing. Amir’s next thought was to pull the remaining two guys off of safeguarding the club and have them come help him, but Amir knew that he had not only thousands upon thousands of dollars’ worth of liquor, food, and electronic equipment but also a stash of heroin locked up in one of the club’s utility closets. He couldn’t afford to risk that potential loss.