Street Soldier

by Silhouettes

  “He had to work today, and you don’t even know him like that to be passing judgment on him.”

  “I know he broke. And I know he ugly as hell. I do know that.” I laughed.

  Nadine folded her arms. “I know you ain’t talking. You don’t think I know about that old-ass neighbor of yours you’ve been fucking? She ’bout forty or fifty, which one?”

  “Actually she’s thirty-one, and how in the hell do you know who I’ve been diggin’ into? You been watchin’ me or somethin’?”

  “No, but I just know these things. Every time I come over there, she be eyeballing me. I know what’s up, and you can do so much better than that, can’t you?”

  I grabbed my goods and smiled. “Maybe so, but when she go down on me, she be treatin’ this mutha like royalty. You ain’t doin’ it like that, so I had to move on.”

  Nadine shoved my shoulder, and when we got to a stoplight, she turned her head to look out of the partially lowered window. I looked in her direction too, and when a burgundy Regal pulled up beside us, my eyes stayed focused like a laser. The rear window slowly lowered and I saw the tip of an AK-47 aim in our direction. My foot hit the accelerator, but because of the wet pavement, all I heard were my wheels turning in circles, burning rubber. I yelled for Nadine to duck, and she dropped down on the front seat, yelling and screaming. “My baby!” she said. “I gotta get my baby!”

  As the bullets hit my car, it sounded like a Fourth of July celebration going on. Glass was shattered everywhere, and, as fast as I was driving, the car beside us kept up. Nadine jumped up from the seat, shouting for her baby and trying to protect him. When her body jerked forward, I knew she had been hit by flying bullets. I slammed on the brakes, doing a spinning U-turn in the middle of the street that left my car smoking. Nadine’s body fell backward, slamming into the dash and plopping down on the seat.

  “Shit!” I shouted. I nervously touched her chest, trying to see if she was still breathing.

  I couldn’t believe this shit was happening, and as the other car sped away, I panicked, driving like a bat out of hell to get to Barnes Hospital, which was less than a mile away.

  “Nadine!” I kept yelling, trying to get a response. “Get up!” By now, the whites of her eyes were showing and she had no response. From what I could see in the rearview mirror, Prince Jr. was okay. He sat quietly in the backseat, and I was thankful that the laundry baskets were on both sides of him. My breathing was getting heavier and heavier, my legs were shaking, and my sweaty palms were so slippery I could barely keep my hands on the steering wheel. When I reached the hospital, I put the car in park and carried Nadine’s limp body into the emergency room.

  “Help me!” I yelled at the nurses and doctors on duty. “Somebody please help me!”

  My legs were weak as Nadine was taken from my arms and placed on a gurney. Her bloody arm flopped on the side, and the doctors and nurses rushed to get her into surgery. One of the nurses said that Nadine still had a pulse, and I was relieved to hear that. Blood was all over my soaking wet, rainy clothes that were clinging to my body. I’d seen who had tried to get at me. If you had ever in your life been robbed by a nigga, there was no way to forget his face. Thinking about my son, I rushed outside to get him from the backseat. Two nurses followed me.

  “What happened?” one nurse said in a panic. “Please tell us what happened.”

  I couldn’t even talk right now, and as I removed Prince Jr. from his car seat, I cuddled him in my arms. I felt his body for injuries, but he looked fine.

  “Sir,” one of the nurses said, now following me as I went back inside. “Do you mind telling—”

  “Not now!” I yelled. “Please not now! Just . . . just make sure she lives, a’ight?”

  The black nurse touched the other one’s shoulder and looked at me. “We’ll give you a few minutes, okay? But we really need to get some information from you. I know you’re having a tough time, but I think you may want to get in touch with the young lady’s parents.”

  I plopped down in a chair in the waiting room, wishing that this was all a bad dream. Nadine wasn’t going to die on me, was she? Hell no! It wasn’t going down like this, was it? I felt as if God had rarely come through for me before, but I needed Him to do it now! Tears fell from my eyes as I continued to rock my son in my arms, thankful that he and I both were okay. Maybe God had been looking out for me, but I needed an answered prayer like now!

  Moments later, the black nurse came over to me, resting a blanket on my shoulders, trying to calm my chills. I got up enough courage to call Nadine’s mother, but could barely get any words out of my mouth. When I told her Nadine had been shot, and what hospital she was at, her mother hung up on me. Right after my phone call to her, I called Mama. I didn’t want to be alone. I just knew she was going to tell me that she didn’t have time right now, so I was surprised when she said she was on her way.

  So much pain was rushing through me, and I couldn’t stop my heavy tears from flowing. Everybody in the waiting area was looking at me, and since I was shaking so badly, I laid Prince Jr. down in his pumpkin seat in front of me. He too started to cry, and when one of the nurses came over and reached down to touch him, I gripped her hand.

  “Don’t touch my fuckin’ baby,” I said through gritted teeth. “Leave us the hell alone.”

  The fire in my eyes implied that now wasn’t the time to approach me, and she slowly backed away from me. It wasn’t long before my mama came in, and Raylo was with her. She rushed over to me, picking up Prince Jr. to calm him.

  “What in the hell happened?” she said, feeling my bloody shirt. “I thought you’d been shot.”

  I shielded my face with my hand, hiding my snotty nose and tearful, puffy eyes. “No, I said Nadine,” I mumbled. “Some niggas were tryin’ to kill me, but they shot Nadine.”

  “Oh my God,” Mama said. “Was the baby in the car too?”

  I nodded and she placed Prince Jr.’s head against her chest. When my head dropped, Raylo gripped my neck and massaged it. “Let it all out,” he said. “Head up and we’ll get them niggas, a’ight?”

  That thought had already crossed my mind, and just when I thought I was getting on the right track. I knew my chickens would someday come home to roost, but never did I think it would come down to this. Nadine didn’t deserve this, and if she was going to go out like this, somebody—a whole lot of people—would have to pay.

  Nadine’s mother rushed into the emergency entrance, asking the nurses behind the counter where she could find her daughter. The police were only seconds behind her, and we all turned our heads when two doctors came from behind the double wooden doors. Nadine’s mother rushed up to them, as one removed a mask from his mouth and the other removed his gloves. The room fell silent, and I couldn’t hear after I watched one doctor mouth the words, “I’m sorry.”

  From there, everything moved in slow motion. My watered-down eyes were so blurred, and all I could see was Nadine’s mother yelling and screaming as she grabbed her stomach, squeezing it. She pounded her legs with her fists and pulled at her hair. The doctors, as well as the police officers, tried to get control of her. In a rage, she broke away from them and headed my way. The police chased after her, holding her arms from behind. From only a few feet away, she spat vicious words at me.

  “You murderer!” she yelled. “How could you have done this to my daughter? How? I knew you were a no-good bastard, Prince! I warned her to stay away from your ass, and look at what you’ve done! Why! God, why? What did my child do to deserve this!”

  She fell to her knees, and the whole place was at a standstill. Raylo kept massaging my neck, and Mama looked as if she was ready to cuss Nadine’s mother out. As everything was spinning in circles, I jumped up from my seat. I ran past the police officers and Nadine’s mother, who was unable to contain herself. Mama yelled out after me, and so did one of the police officers. He caught up with me just as I jumped into the front seat of my car.

  “Calm down,” he said
, holding the door open. “We do need to talk to you, and if you don’t feel up to it right now, then I ask that you come to the station tomorrow. If you don’t, I will put a warrant out for your arrest. With all of these bullet holes in your car, I can only suspect what has happened. Remember, you don’t want to bring no more trouble to yourself or to your family. Got it?”

  I wiped my eyes and slowly nodded. The officer gave me his card and let go of the door. I slammed it shut and slowly drove off. I didn’t give a fuck what he’d said. It had gone in one ear and out the other. Some people just didn’t understand how or why shit had to go down like this, and even though I had made some progress over the last few months, a street soldier like me would forever have setbacks in the hood. No matter how hard I tried to do right, things would never work in my favor. Niggas were always gon’ be niggas, thinking they could take a life without any repercussions. Not this time.

  I knew exactly where Cedric and his crew hung out, but before I even got to my destination, I spotted the burgundy Regal parked in front of an auto body shop on the north side. Three of the niggas, including the one who had robbed me, stood outside laughing with the owner of the shop. They appeared to be having a funky good time, not even caring that a mother was somewhere grieving for her child. Yeah, it could have been my mama this time around, but to see Nadine’s mother react the way she did was enough. I kept my eyes on the fools, making sure they didn’t see me or my car. When they walked across the street to a lounge, I parked my car and changed my blood-soiled shirt with a clean one I’d had on the backseat. I waited for fifteen minutes, contemplating my next move. I thought about my son, living without a mother and father. Damn, I didn’t want him being raised by Mama, and I knew that Nadine’s mother was so upset with me that she’d probably want no part of him. Without me, he was guaranteed a fucked-up life. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, but when I looked at all of the dried blood splattered on my front seat, maybe it was necessary. As I was in thought, my cell phone rang. It was Patrice. I started not to answer my phone, but instead I did.

  “Prince,” she repeated, barely hearing my voice when I answered.

  “What?”

  “Why are you sounding like that?”

  “Because I . . . I just wanna kill somebody right now, that’s why.”

  “Who are you fighting with now? I hope you and your mother aren’t at it again.”

  I wiped my tears, skeptical about telling her what had happened. “Nadine’s dead. She got shot and I know the niggas who did it.”

  She hesitated to speak, but then spoke up. “I’m sorry to hear about Nadine, but you have to step back and let the police handle that. Please.”

  “They ain’t gon’ handle shit and you know it. I’m gon’ handle it, fa’sho.”

  “Go to the police now, Prince. This thing is much bigger than you. And, remember, it’s up to you to change course. Millionaires are leaders, and followers like our father wind up dead or in jail. Don’t be like Derrick, please. That’s not what you want, is it? God said the vengeance is His—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got that. But today it may have to be mine.”

  I hung up on Patrice, only because I was being interrupted by numerous calls from Mama’s phone.

  “What?” I answered.

  “Where are you?” she shouted.

  “Out.”

  “Out where, Prince? Don’t be out there doin’ nothin’ stupid. You need to get back here so you can see about your son. All this bullshit . . .” I heard Raylo saying something in the background, then he took the phone.

  “He ain’t tryin’ to hear yo’ goddamn mouth! Move back and silence yourself, woman. Young blood,” he said. “Handle yo’ business. That’s what real niggas do, and make sure that whatever you do, don’t you be the one leaving in no muthafuckin’ body bag. Pump two for me. I expect to see you at your mama’s house within the hour, pickin’ up yo’ son and goin’ on with yo’ life. Stay up.”

  Raylo hung up and I closed my eyes, listening to the many voices in my head. Sometimes decisions like this didn’t come easy. People thought they did, but I didn’t grow up saying that I wanted to be a murderer. But at this point, what choice did I have? All I can say is put yourself in my shoes. What in the fuck would you do? I heard Patrice pleading with me in her soft-spoken voice: step back and let the police handle it. Please. Don’t be like Derrick. Then Mama’s voice got at me: you need to get back here so you can see about your son. Raylo: handle yo’ business. That’s what real niggas do. Don’t you leave that muthafucka in no body bag. He sounded like the devil, making his noise, and I hated like hell to let the devil have his way. Then, there was another voice. It shouted so loud that my eyes popped open. Vengeance is mine! the powerful voice said. All mine!

  Paranoid as hell, I looked around me. I thought about what Nadine’s mother had said to me at the hospital, and wondered if she would ever forgive me. A vision of Nadine’s lifeless body was in my head and that infuriated me more. What in the hell would Romeo do in a situation like this? I thought about how he’d been suckered by the white man, then about Nadine and her mother again. I shook my head, realizing how nobody understood how difficult it was being a street soldier at war. I had to not only do this shit for me, but for Nadine and her mother as well.

  I tucked my silencer down inside my jeans, then put my five-inch blade in my pocket. I wasn’t sure which one would come in handy first, but I knew both would be useful. I made my way toward the lounge, and could hear B.B. King singing the blues. I was careful about my surroundings, and when I entered the lounge, I found that the inside was pretty dim. Several people sat at tables talking, a few people sat at the long, red, painted bar, some were on the tiny wood dance floor, and I could see two of the brothas sitting at a table in the far back. The one who had robbed me had gotten up and was on his way to the bathroom. I lowered my cap on my head to cover my eyes. The other two brothas were busy talking, and as I made my way by them, they didn’t even notice me. I entered the men’s bathroom, and leaned against the sink as ol’ boy funked up the stall. No doubt, it would be the last shit he would ever take. Minutes later, he came out of the bathroom with his head lowered. He was buckling his belt, but when he looked up and saw me, his steps halted.

  I smiled. “Say, nigga,” I said with the sharp blade already in my hand. “You remember me?” He didn’t say a word, and looked frozen in time. “Just in case you don’t, I’m Prince. I’m here to tell you that your clock has stopped tickin’.”

  His beady eyes shifted to the door, and I could tell he was getting ready to jet. Before he could, I lunged out at him, shanking his ass with the sharp blade and jabbing it into his stomach. He staggered back, holding his ripped midsection. I pulled the knife out, only to jab it right back in four, five more times. I wanted his eyes to look like Nadine’s did, and satisfaction came when he fell to his knees with blood gushing from his mouth. I wiped the bloody blade on his shoulder and watched his body hit the ground—hard.

  Afterward, I retrieved the silencer from down inside of my pants, and left the bathroom. This time, I removed the cap from my head, just so the other two brothas could get a good look at me. I wasn’t even sure if they recognized me, but they damn sure were introduced to my best friend. I shot off six bullets, instantly dropping those suckers like pesky flies.

  The people in the lounge were clearing out fast, and backing away from me as if I was some type of madman.

  “Oh my God,” one lady shouted, falling over a table as she tried to break out toward the cluttered doorway. “He’s got a gun!”

  “Get Nay-Nay and them,” another woman screamed at a man. “Lord, my daughter was back there in that bathroom! Get her!”

  The man was too busy ducking underneath the tables, trying to hide, until I came into eye contact with him. He cautiously grinned at me. “Shut the hell up, bitch, and get yo’ ass out of here! I’ll go get her ass, but she shouldn’t have been in there sucking dick!”

  I c
ouldn’t help but snicker, as I’d sent the entire place into complete pandemonium. The people didn’t know who was going to get shot next. As far as I was concerned, my mission was accomplished. Not quite, as I’d forgotten to put in two for Raylo. I turned, firing off two more shots that did nothing but get those fools to hell faster.

  “Don’t forget to say hello to the devil for me!” I said, smirking, with joy in my eyes. “That’s if you muthafuckas can talk with all of those holes in dat ass!”

  “He’s crazy!” somebody shouted. “Call the goddamn police!”

  That was my cue to jet, and as I rushed toward the door, everyone cleared out of my way. Some were falling, others hiding and shaking their heads. I figured a retaliation would be ordered, but there was no doubt in my mind that whenever that time came—today, tomorrow, whenever—I would ready. A street soldier such as myself always had to be.

  Urban Books, LLC

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  Street Soldier Copyright © 2011 Silhouettes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-5998-3189-3

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

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