by K'wan
Pearl tapped the card against her fingers before slipping it into her purse. “I’ll do just that. Take care, Carla.” She turned to leave but stopped short. “If you don’t mind me asking, did you ever see him again? Your first love?”
The woman’s face darkened. “Yes, once after that day. He made the five o’clock news when he was gunned down coming out of a restaurant in Manhattan. They say it was over drugs, but I like to think it was his karma catching up with him.”
* * *
“Damn, what were y’all doing, swapping life stories?” Marissa asked sarcastically when Pearl finally re-joined her.
“Shut up, hussy. I was apologizing for making an ass of myself earlier and getting her information. She got skills and she makes house calls.” Pearl pulled out the card and showed it to her.
Marissa snatched the card and looked at it. “Oh, she got a nine-seven-three number.” She frowned and handed Pearl the card back. “She one of them Jersey bitches … probably from Newark.”
“I wouldn’t care if she was from the moon, Carla got skills!” Pearl declared.
“That she does.” Marissa admired Pearl’s makeup. She glanced back and the direction they had just come and watched Carla, watching them. “Yo, why do I feel like I’ve seen her before?”
“Let’s hope you didn’t sleep with her husband or no crazy shit,” Pearl joked. “Come on so we can get back uptown and change clothes. I can’t be late to my own party.”
Power brought up the rear, weighed down by their bags, while Pearl and Marissa walked a few feet ahead gossiping. Marissa was just giving Pearl the dirt on the orderly she had met during her short stay at the hospital and how she was thinking about sleeping with him when she saw Pearl’s eyes lock in on something just ahead of them. She turned to see what her friend was looking at and all she could do was roll her eyes. “This nigga here.”
CHAPTER FIVE
By the time the police arrived on the scene to clean up the mess outside the department store, the pirates were long gone. They had abandoned the station wagon in a parking garage a few blocks away and hopped in an SUV, which also held a spare set of clothes for each of them. It confused Domo how Buda was worried about powder residue, but not getting caught with the dirty guns he’d opted to keep. Those rested in a pillowcase that sat between his legs on the passenger-side floor. Buda had a thing about not tossing away guns that were still in good working condition. He had some people who would break them down and use the parts for other guns to commit more murders. Buda was a strange man whom Domo had been trying, to no avail, to figure out. He must’ve felt Domo’s eyes on him, because he looked back and flashed a sly smile in his direction. Domo wouldn’t forget the fact that Buda had drawn a gun on him, and neither would Buda. They’d definitely have a discussion about it at a later time.
Lucky sat behind the wheel of the SUV, steering with both hands, trying his best not to crash. He pretended he wasn’t nervous, but Domo could smell fear coming from his pores. Lucky talked as much shit as the rest of them, but Domo knew he wasn’t built for the kind of games Buda had them playing.
One-eye Willie was in his own world, examining the bruise on his chest. The vest had stopped the slug, but Domo could tell from the way he winced every time he touched the bruise that it hurt like hell. He’d got the name One-eye Willie because of the glass eye shoved into the left socket of his skull. It was as black as onyx with a gold pentagram painted where the pupil should be. There were several stories about how he had lost his eye, but the one most whispered about was that Willie had removed the eye himself. They say he was born with a veil, the ability to see spirits. As a kid the ghosts plagued him so bad that he took a fork and tried to pop his eyes out so he wouldn’t see them anymore. The only thing that saved his other eye was his grandmother catching him in the act. Willie was a whack job, but he and Domo got along okay.
Lucky and One-eye Willie were two of the dozen or so new faces Buda had brought to New York. When he had assumed control of Diamonds’ crew, the first thing he did was start bringing in some of their affiliates from other cities they had left their stains on. Hank and Goldie had been opposed to the move, but Buda fed them a line about needing to beef up their numbers after what had happened to Diamonds. Soldiers from Florida, Texas, and even New Orleans had answered Buda’s call to arms for the last week and been running amuck in New York.
“You good?” Vita asked, snapping Domo out of his train of thought.
“I’m straight. Still a little pumped after the job, ya know?” Domo lied.
“How’s that tender-dick nigga’s nuts ever gonna drop if you keep babying him, Vita? Let me find out you showing this nigga more than the ropes,” Buda said in an accusatory tone.
“Fuck you, Buda!” Vita gave him the finger.
“Fucking might be the root of our little problem here.” Buda’s eyes swept between Domo and Vita like he knew their secret. There were whispers about the true nature of their relationship, but no one had been able to confirm it as of yet. Buda had been waiting for years to try his hand with Vita, but Diamonds had always been in the way. As far as he was concerned she was now fair game and he wouldn’t lose his shot to an outsider.
“What’s the matter, Buda? You ain’t getting none at home so you making up fantasies in your head?” Domo interjected. He had meant it as a joke to take them off the subject, but the dead silence that fell over the SUV told him it hadn’t been taken that way. It wasn’t the first time Domo had mouthed off to Buda, but it was the first time he had done it in front of the new faces.
“You know,” Buda turned his entire body around in the seat and leveled the full weight of his gaze on Domo, “you been on some real funny shit lately.” In his hand dangled one of the pistols that hadn’t made it into the bag.
“Buda—” Vita began, but was cut off by a sharp look.
“I got a joke I can tell too,” Buda returned his attention to Domo, “but this one ends up with us having to get the whole back of this vehicle hosed out. Like to hear it?”
Domo’s mouth suddenly became very dry. He didn’t think Buda would shoot him in the back of the SUV, but with a man like him you could never really tell what he was capable of. He knew he had to choose his next words carefully. “That sounds like a joke that would leave us short a member. If we short a member, then maybe next time the runaway mark finds freedom through those department-store doors instead of death.”
Buda glared at Domo for what felt like an eternity, before letting his thick lips part into a smile. “You ain’t as dumb as you pretend to be, kid.” He turned back around in his seat. Buda had been trying not to like Domo, but he had to admit that the young man was growing on him. He was a cool character who would pop his gun and had proven to be dedicated to their cause. If the time ever came when Buda found the need to get rid of Goldie, Domo would prove a more than capable successor. The only problem with bringing Domo in fully was that his greatest asset was also a potential liability: his loyalty. It had been Diamonds who accepted Domo into the crew, so how would Domo feel if Buda’s part in Diamonds’ disappearance ever came out?
“You are one crazy little fucker! The last dude who talked slick to Buda went missing the next day.” One-eye Willie laughed.
“Don’t gas him up, Willie. The night is still young,” Buda warned. “And why are you even talking shit when you almost got laid to rest back there? What would make your fool ass jump on top of the car like that?”
Willie shrugged. “I saw Hannibal do it one time on an episode of The A-Team. Shit been on my bucket list for years!”
The whole car erupted into laughter.
“Yo, I’ll bet that old-ass nigga ain’t gonna feel so big after he finds out two major pieces just got knocked off his chessboard!” Lucky attempted to add a joke of his own to the merriment. For this he got a sneaky jab to his side from Buda.
Domo saw it, but acted as if he didn’t. “Drop me off on the corner,” he told Lucky.
“I’m not
stopping until we get to the Bronx,” Lucky told him. He wanted to get the dirty guns out of the car and away from him as quickly as possible.
“Cool out with all that nervous shit and just let me out, homie,” Domo reiterated. This time his tone was sharper.
Lucky looked over at Buda, who gave him an approving nod. “Fuck it,” he muttered and reluctantly pulled over on the corner near the train station on 110th Street.
Vita gave Domo a questioning look, to which he replied by patting her thigh reassuringly before climbing out of the car. Much to everyone’s surprise, Buda got out too. two and a half sets of eyes watched intently as the two men stood toe to toe on the sidewalk.
“What’s up?” Buda asked.
“Ain’t nothing. Gotta few moves I need to make,” Domo told him.
“I know you ain’t salty about me drawing on you back there, is you?” Buda asked suspiciously.
“Nah, man, that’s a conversation for another time,” Domo said coolly. “I gotta go see somebody real quick, if you know what I mean?”
Buda looked over his shoulder at Vita, who was ear-hustling through the cracked rear window. “You young boys are always so quick to put pussy over money!” he said loud enough for Vita to hear. “Fuck it, handle your business. We gonna go to the spot and get this money straightened out. You gonna come by when you’re done handling your business?”
“I’ll scoop it tomorrow,” Domo said, which surprised Buda.
“How do you know it’ll still be there?” Buda asked suspiciously.
“You might be a lot of things, Buda, but you don’t strike me as a man who leaves debts unsettled.”
Buda laughed. “You’re right about that. Make sure you come see me in the morning. I hold on to your money too long and I might be tempted to trick it off,” he half joked. “Oh, and there’s something else. Goldie caught a lick for some powder while we were taking care of the old man downtown. We’re still working through what we got from Eddie’s people a few days ago, so I was thinking we hit you and L.A. with the powder we ripped off today to see what you can do with it. That’s if you think you can handle it?”
Domo thought on it. “I’d have to check and see what we got left from the last package you dropped on us. Since we’re just starting out, things are still moving kind of slow.”
“So you saying you boys ain’t equip to handle volume?”
“I never said that, I just said I’d have to do a tally of inventory. Don’t wanna take more product from you when we still ain’t finished paying you for the last batch. I don’t like debts.”
“I can dig that, shorty. Tell you what; how about I drop the coke on you anyhow. You boys kick me up the bread for half the shipment when you can, and the other half you can consider as a gift. Something to help you guys get on your feet over that way.”
“So, you just gonna give us free coke out of the goodness of your heart?” Domo was suspicious.
Buda laughed. “You should know by now that I ain’t got no heart. But to answer your question, it’s a reward for your services. You been a loyal solider to this crew, Domo. And the coke is my way of saying I appreciate it.” He extended his hand.
“Thanks.” Domo shook Buda’s hand.
“Cool, I’ll have one of my people drop it off to you and L.A. either tonight or tomorrow. Unless you want me to hold on to it and you can take it yourself when you come back to pick up your money?” Buda asked slyly.
“Man, you know I ain’t throwing no stones at the penitentiary. We’ll be waiting for your delivery.” Domo turned to head for the train station.
“Yo, Domo!” Buda called after him. “How far are you willing to go to be rich?”
“Buda, if you still gotta ask that question then you obviously ain’t been paying attention.”
* * *
“Everything good with the youngster?” Willie asked once Buda was back in the vehicle.
Buda played it off. “Yeah, everything straight. You know these lil niggas be in their feelings. That boy better learn to man up if he plans to make the cut with this crew.”
“If you ask me, I think he’ll do more than make the cut,” Willie said, watching Domo as he went down the train station steps.
“And how the fuck do you know that and you just met him?” Buda asked.
Willie pointed to the glass pentagram in his eye. “Because I can see it in him. If you’re smart, you’ll keep that boy close.”
CHAPTER SIX
Domo didn’t have to stop at the tollbooth to pay his fare, because he made a habit of keeping a metro card on him at all times. He hadn’t found himself on public transportation much lately, but old habits died hard. He made it to the platform just in time to catch the southbound number 2 train. Domo hated New York public transportation and had thought about taking a cab downtown, but it would be too easy to follow and Domo didn’t want anyone clocking his movements. Traveling underground would make it easier for him to disappear in the shuffle.
The measure was paranoid, but it wasn’t as if Domo didn’t have reason to be. From the time Domo had met him, Buda had never made it a secret that he was opposed to Diamonds letting Domo and L.A. into their crew, but Vita had spoken for them and so had their own actions. Domo and L.A. had proven themselves in everyone else’s eyes, but Buda still didn’t seem convinced that the kids from Newark were built like that. This is why when Diamonds went missing and Buda assumed control of the crew, Domo expected to be bounced out on his ass, but instead Buda promoted him. He set Domo and L.A. up with some product and some guns and gave them his blessing to open up shop on the other side of the Hudson. Buda wanted to expand, and claimed the gesture was a test to see if they could stand on their own. But to Domo it felt like it was done more to keep them at arm’s length from whatever he had going on in New York. Domo didn’t venture into New York much anymore unless it was to put in work, which there had been no shortage of.
Things were heating up in the Apple. During Diamonds’ conquest of New York he had run afoul of some cats who supposedly put him in the ground. Buda refused to sit idle with his best friend dead and someone trying to stop them from getting money, so he declared war, but who were they fighting? He kept Domo and L.A. on a need-to-know basis, claiming he still wasn’t sure how far he could trust them. Even Vita hadn’t been able to offer Domo a straight answer, only telling him that Buda would let them in eventually and so long as he remained loyal, the crew would always take care of him. Her words seemed sincere enough, but he also knew that there was something she wasn’t telling him and that didn’t sit right. L.A. might’ve been cool with busting his gun blindly so long as they got rich in the process, and it made Domo feel good to be able to finally help his mother, but Buda would have to do more than throw money at him if he expected Domo to remain a part of their crew. He needed answers, sooner rather than later.
He exited the train on 135th Street and started walking south. His mom was working at one of her side jobs, at a salon in Harlem. Since Domo happened to be in New York too and had a few dollars in his pocket, he wanted to surprise her by treating her to a bite to eat.
Domo’s mom was the backbone of their family and hands-down the strongest person he had ever met. She came from what he came from, the streets, and both her sons’ fathers had walked out on her, but that only made her go harder. Domo’s mom worked two and sometimes three jobs to make sure he and his older brother, Understanding, always had clothes on their backs, a roof over their heads, and food in their bellies. They had endured some tough times and sometimes she had to go without so that they could eat, but she did it without once complaining. She did what she could to make sure her boys wouldn’t suffer through life’s pitfalls, but the ghetto had a way of snatching children when their parents weren’t looking. When Understanding went to prison, Domo’s mom doubled her efforts to provide for Domo, determined not to let the streets or the system take both her boys, but there was only so long a young man could sit by and watch his mom struggle, so Domo did what
he had to do to ease his mother’s burdens.
Just as Domo was going in through one set of doors of the salon, some familiar faces were coming out the other. He almost didn’t recognize Pearl since she had cut her hair, but she was still as fine and curvaceous as ever. She was the older sister of his friend Stoney, and the muse for some very explicit dreams that Domo had had. He’d always had the biggest crush on the slightly older girl, but would never admit it or act on it, out of respect for his friend. Besides, Domo was hardly Pearl’s speed. She was into men who had paper and power, much like her father. She hadn’t noticed him yet, so he was just going to slide into Macy’s and act like he hadn’t seen her, but her friend Marissa killed that plan when she capped, “This nigga here.”
“Oh hey, what’s up, y’all? I didn’t even see you,” Domo lied. When he moved to greet Pearl the white boy stepped between them.
“Hold on, kid.” Power laid one of his thick hands on Domo’s chest.
“It’s cool, P. That’s one of Stoney’s little friends,” Pearl told him.
When Pearl used the word little to describe Domo it hurt, but he didn’t show it. “What y’all doing so far from the Kingdom of Stone?” he asked sarcastically.
“We had to come get our faces right for our girl’s party.” Marissa preened, showing off her makeup.
“Damn, you having a party and I didn’t get an invitation?” Domo looked at Pearl, faking hurt.
“Negative, it’s eighteen and older and you ain’t eighteen yet,” Marissa answered for her.
“Neither are you!” Domo shot back.
“Y’all two knock it off.” Pearl was tired of Marissa and Domo’s bickering. They went through it every time they saw each other. “Domo, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because you’re a cool little dude, but this party ain’t your speed.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It means there’s going to be a certain caliber of guys at my party—boss niggas—and you ain’t even a solider in nobody’s army. I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place,” Pearl said honestly. She hadn’t meant to offend him, but she had.
