by Hood Rich
“Yo, I ain’t scared of none of you niggas. Y’all want my shoes you gon’ have to kill me!” he hollered, then swung and punched a heavy-set sixth grader in the jaw, knocking him to the ground.
As soon as he fell, two boys swung and punched him at the same time, knocking him backward. But that didn’t stop Paper from swinging with calculating blows. The dark-skinned kid went for what he knew. His heart was bigger than the average.
All the boys closed in and started to attack him at once, getting the best of him, and that infuriated me. I already didn’t like bullies, but worse than that I hated cowards that had to group up before they fought. That was my pet peeve, and the middle school that we went to was known for that. I hated Auer Avenue.
I took my arm from around Tasha as the rest of the kids started to come out of the school doors talking loudly as if they could not wait to be free. As they made their way completely out of the school they all peeped what was going on with Paper and the six other boys.
Paper was on the ground getting stomped out by all six of them. I ran over as fast as I could and got to swinging, hitting one face after the next. I mean hard too. They must’ve been taken off guard because every time I connected with one of their faces the culprit would run away until he gathered himself. “Get off him!” I hollered, still swinging.
After I cleared the way a lil’ bit, Paper was able to get up and place his back to mine, and that day we stood back to back, fighting off all six of the dudes until the teachers and bus drivers came over and broke us up. My lip and nose were bloody, along with Paper’s, but he didn’t lose his shoes. The only thing I had left behind was Tasha. Simultaneously, I gained a best friend and the only man I trusted with my life.
Nine years later and me and Paper were even closer than we were back then. I drove over to 26th and Burleigh where Paper’s trap was and parked my car behind his black on black Monte Carlo that his father had brought him while he was in the joint. I got out of my whip and made my way along the gangway of his trap with the sun beaming down on my head. It felt extremely humid outside, and even though I was wearing Polo shorts and a gray and black Polo wife beater over matching Air Max 95’s, it did little to keep me cool. Before I made it to the back of his trap I had sweat pouring down the side of my face, and my beater was sticking to me just that fast.
When I got back there, I found Paper down on one knee, shaking dice, getting ready to roll them out of his hand. He looked up at me and smiled. “Rich! What’s good, my nigga? You just in time to watch me break these fools,” he said as a slight breeze coursed through his backyard.
Alongside Paper was four other dudes, all with money in their hands and their eyes on the pile of cash in the middle of them. I walked over to the circle and I could see a few of them sizing me up. More than likely they were assessing the threat that I posed to them. Around this time Milwaukee county was packed with jack boys. You never knew who was out to lay yo’ ass down, but I wasn’t on that shit. I had hustling on my mind. I wasn’t trying to gain a bunch of new enemies, so I came over and kneeled beside Paper as he shook the dice and rolled them out into the circle.
They fell on the number nine. He pulled out a knot and peeled off a fifty. “Yo, I’ll straight nine for fifty. I’m taking all side bets,” he announced, looking the men over.
All around they began to fade his bet, and for every man that pulled out a fifty, Paper placed a fifty on top of theirs. I was curious to know where he’d gotten that knot from. It looked like it was well over ten bands.
Paper smiled and ran his tongue across the front of his teeth, looking from one man onto the next. There must’ve been eight men that faded his bet at fifty dollars apiece. I calculated that if he hit his point he’d been able to pick up four hundred dollars real quick. All he had to do was roll a nine on the dice and avoid hitting the number seven and he would be good.
He nodded. “Yo, on everything, this the easiest money I ever made.” He turned the dice over in his hand before placing them side by side and shaking them furiously. He started to laugh to himself. “Y’all ready?” He asked looking around at the circle of men.
One dude with long corn rows and a mouth full of gold sucked his teeth loudly. He held a hand full of fifties and hundreds. He swatted a fly away from his face and looked over at Paper. “Man, nigga, roll the muthafuckin’ dice. It’s too hot to be playin’ these games with you, shorty.” Sweat slid down his forehead and disappeared into the collar of his buttoned-up Marc Jacobs.
Paper laughed out loud and looked him over. “Fax, chill, nigga. I ain’t never seen a muhfucka in a rush to lose they money.” He laughed again then looked over to me. “Watch this shit, Rich. it’s like taking candy from a baby.” Looking into the center of the gamble, he shook the dice close to his ear as if he was listening to them. “Here come that nine, homeboys. Sss, get ‘em.” He rolled the dice into the circle. They went about five feet in front of him, turning over and over before falling on a five and a four. The men in the circle seemed to let out a loud groan in unison while Paper laughed out loud. “Hell yeah. Give me my money, then I’m fading all shooters.”
One by one, he went around the circle picking up one fifty at a time, leaving down the fifty that he’d originally placed with each man. “I’ll bet back with all of you niggas. Fades up right now.”
Not to be out done, each one of the men that had faded him before placed another fifty on top of the one that he’d left down in front of them. So once again it looked like Paper was placing another four hundred-dollar bet, after stuffing the previous cash into his pocket.
He shook the dice once again over his head. “This shit so sweet. Watch this, homie.” He shook them harder as the wind blew across the backyard, lifting some of the cash before the men caught the bills in the air and set them back on the concrete, placing a rock on top of each bet to hold it to the ground. “Yeah, my niggas, read these bitches and weep!” He rolled the dice out in front of him. They twirled over and over until they stopped on a six and a five. Paper jumped up and got to collecting his bets. “Ha-ha! I told you niggas. Y’all can’t fuck with my business! I’m getting all in that ass.” He collected all his cash from them, once again leaving a fifty in front of each man so they could fade his new bet.
All of them, except for Fax, shook their heads and backed away from the circle.
“This nigga lucky today, kid. I ain’t fucking with him. I gotta hit the block and get back what I lost.” A heavy-set dark-skinned dude said, pulling out his iPhone and texting.
“Word up! I’m with you. Let’s go get money. We’ll holla at you niggas,” another one said, walking out of the backyard with two pistols clearly showing, tucked safely into the small of his back.
Seeing them made me feel a lil’ apprehensive because Milwaukee county was frivolous for jack boys. I didn’t think Paper was too worried, or at least he didn’t act like he was.
He was too busy sizing up Fax, who was on one knee with a bundle of cash in his hand. “Yo, so what’s it gon’ be, Fax? What you trying to do?”
Fax was one of the hustlers from Center Street. He was part of a local street mob by the name of CSG. They call themselves Center Street Gangstas. They were a small crew of hustling savages that trapped all throughout the city, but mainly on Center Street. They mostly sold crack and heroin, but around that time they were also venturing out into the meth market. Hustling wasn’t the only thing they were known for, because while their crew was mostly made up of dope boys, they also had a bunch of jack boys, and some cats that you could hire to body a nigga for you at ten gees a murder. In so many words, Fax wasn’t the nigga to play with because he was plugged in every sense of the word. His brother JG was head of CSG and he gave Fax a lot of leeway.
Fax mugged Paper then grunted before counting through his wad of money and throwing down ten one hundred-dollar bills. “Nigga, shoot a gee. Fuck playing around with that baby money.” He sucked his teeth loudly and I noticed his guy looking me over closely like h
e was on bullshit or something.
Paper laughed and shrugged. “Nigga, you ain’t said shit but a word. What I’m supposed to be scared to bet on me?” He snickered. “Yeah, right.” He pulled out his knot of cash, counted out a stack and threw it on top of Fax’s gee, then counted off ten more one hundred-dollar bills and tossed them down on top of the money. “Fuck a gee, shoot two.”
Fax curled his upper lip and bit into his bottom lip, counting off ten more hundred-dollar bills before tossing them down. “Shoot, nigga.” He ordered Paper.
Paper shook the dice in his hand above his head, laughed and looked over to me. “Watch me finish stripping this nigga. Get ‘em, girls!” he rolled at the dice and snapped his fingers as they left his hand.
The dice twirled a few times before landing on two number twos. Paper grunted and shook his head, going into the circle and picking the dice up with a worried look on his face.
Fax was smiling at this point, counting through his wad of money. “Yeah, nigga.” He counted off fifty-one hundred-dollar bills. “That’s five bands right there, plus the two that’s already down, making it seven. I say you don’t straight four for this five. What you wanna do?” he asked, looking over to Paper.
Paper rolled the dice around in his hand, looking off into the distance. “I’ll ten and foe. That straight foe gon’ be hard to come by. All craps kill,” he uttered, meaning that he’d bet Fax for that extra five gees that he’d be able to hit the number ten or four before the dice rolled on to any of the crap numbers that were snake eyes— the numbers twelve and three or seven.
Fax laughed and shook his head. “N’all, nigga. I want that straight four. In fact.” He counted off another ten one hundred-dollar bills. “I’ll put up six gees saying that you can’t hit it. You in or you out?” he asked, running his tongue across his teeth.
Paper rolled his head around on his shoulders as the sun continued to beam down on all of us.
I hated the fact that his backyard didn’t provide any shade. I was hot as hell and getting crazy vibes from Fax’s man that kneeled to the left of him.
Paper counted his knot that was real thin by this point. “Yo, all I got is six hundred left, but I ain’t scared. I’ll put up this six and you just take four hundred back.” He dropped the six hundred dollars on the pile and started to shake the dice in his hand, ready to roll them.
Fax frowned. “All you got left is six? Word up?”
Paper scrunched his face and nodded. “Yeah, just take four back and we good.” He kneeled, getting into his shooters stance.
Fax shook his head, reached into the circle and started to push all the money together into one pile. “N’all. Then all of this is me. We already stipulated that the shooter had to fade whatever the fader wanted him to shoot. Because yo’ money lacking, lil’ nigga, you burnt yo’ money, which means that all of this is mine.” He kneeled and got to picking it up.
Paper reached and grabbed a chunk of it out of his hand. “You got me fucked up, homeboy. It ain’t going down like that!”
Fax backed up, and the nigga that had been kneeling to the left of him stepped forward and placed a .45 to Paper’s head. “Bitch ass nigga, you heard what he said. You burnt yo’ money, now fall back while he collect what’s his.” He pressed the barrel even harder into Paper’s forehead and twisted it sideways.
Seeing the way my mans had his head tilted backward, caught off guard, got me vexed. I jumped up, ready to attack even without a pistol, and that’s when Fax upped a nine-millimeter and cocked it back. “Fuck you think you finna do, lil’ nigga? Huh? Put yo’ muhfucking hands up, now!” he hollered.
I slowly put my hands up about shoulder length while I mugged the shit out of Fax, and then his homie. They’d caught us slippin’ and I felt like a straight pussy. “Man, it ain’t gotta go down like that. My nigga gon’ put up six and I’m gon’ toss on the other four, so he ain’t burnt shit. It’s good money all around the board,” I said looking from Fax to his shooter.
Fax scrunched his eye brows and then smiled. “Aw, you saying you got four hundred on you right now?”
As soon as he asked the question I felt dumb as hell because I felt what he was getting ready to do, but like I fool I nodded. “Yeah, and I’ll back him. So, what’s good?”
Fax tilted his head back and laughed. “Nigga, fuck that. Y’all done already made me sweat my deodorant off. I’m stripping you and him. Lay it the fuck down, now!” he said, walking over to me and pressing the barrel of his gun to my cheek, pushing me up against the back of the house and turning my pockets inside out until he uncovered the five thousand dollars of Andrea’s money that I’d brought with me to cop some heroin from one of Paper’s plugs.
After he recovered the money I felt so sick that I almost threw up on this nigga.
Fax turned me around until I was facing the house, then he put his forearm into the back of my neck all aggressive like and put his lips on my ear. “This what you get for fucking with this nigga Paper. Every time I see y’all together, I’m gon’ make you and him pay for it. This nigga talk way too much, so this what it is.” He pushed me into the house one last time before they forced us to kneel onto the concrete at gunpoint, and then our stomachs.
We stayed that way until they left out of the backyard and pulled out of the alley. By that time, I was so heated that my eyes were burning.
Chapter 4
I jumped up from the concrete as I heard their tires screeching down the alley in a haste to get away from the scene.
Paper jumped up and dusted his clothes off, shaking his head. “That bitch ass nigga dawg. I knew he was on somethin’. I should have known that nigga couldn’t take no L’s,” he said lowering his head.
I was pacing, heated. My eyes felt like they were about to drop tears. Andrea had just given me that money, so I could make a way for the family, and I had already lost half of it. I got to imagining the faces of my little sisters and then hers, and I felt like I had the flu. Like I had failed them already. I shook my head. “Yo, I ain’t finna take that loss lying down, Paper. Fuck that. I know who he pulled with and all of that, but that nigga gon’ have to kill me. That money was for my lil’ sisters, man.”
Paper opened the backdoor to his trap and stepped inside of it. “Come in, Rich, so we can figure this shit out. You ain’t gon’ do shit but pass out in this sun. Word up.” He stepped to the side, so I could enter, which I did.
Five minutes later I was still pacing in his living room when he entered with a snubbed nose .38 Special in his hand. He walked up to me and extended the gun. “Here, bruh, you gon’ need this muhfucka later.”
I grabbed it and popped open the cylinder, spinning it, making sure that each of the chambers were filled with bullets before snapping it closed. “What you got in mind, Paper? What? We finna go pop this nigga or something? ‘Cuz if we is, I’m down.” I said still heated.
I wanted to kill something even though I never had before. I felt like I could take Fax’s life with no hesitation. I kept on imagining what it felt like to have that steel up against my cheek and forehead and it began to make me feel crazy. I wanted to cry and scream out in anger all at the same time. I felt emasculated to the ninth power.
Paper shook his head. “N’all. I ain’t saying we about to body this nigga. He gon’ get his when the time is right, but for now, my old man put me up on this other lil’ lick that we can hit to get our money back. It’s supposed to be about a brick and a few gees, but we gon’ have to hit that shit first thing in the morning. I’m talking like four or five-ish. You down?” He asked, taking a blunt off the table in the living room and lighting it. He took four deep pulls then passed it to me.
I took it, even though my chest was heaving because I was so heated. All I kept on seeing was me blowing Fax’s brain out of his skull. I couldn’t believe that he’d just treated me and Paper like bitches. I felt like he just screwed me or something. I had to get my revenge, or I would never be able to live with myself. However, I h
ad that evil shit on my mind. I also couldn’t stop thinking about how much my little sisters needed me. I had to step up to the plate and get them right, along with Andrea. I was the man of the house and the only hope they had.
I took three quick pulls from the blunt and watched him crush up two Percocet thirty pills, sit at the table and snort them line by line. He pinched his nose and coughed more than a few times. I wasn’t fucking with them pills at this point, but Paper was into them real heavy. I took the gun and put it into the small of my back. Then, I puffed away at the blunt, feeling the high take over me. My eyes got low and time seemed to slow all the way down. “Tell me what’s good with this lick, Paper? What’s the risk?” I asked, really not caring. I was willing to do whatever it took to make it happen for my household.
Paper tooted up another line and sat back in his chair with his eyes glossed. He took three Jolly Ranchers and popped them into his mouth, sucking loudly. “Look, bruh, trust me. We gon’ get that nigga Fax. I’m just as heated as you, even though it may not seem like it, but for right now we need to make other moves. It’s this rock house ran by this skinny Mexican nigga on the south side that we can hit. His father two cells over from my Pops in the joint, and my old man just put him in with a seller that dropped a kilo of white on him. He’s supposed to be buying two pistols tomorrow afternoon which is why we gotta hit his ass before he do. He just got the dope last night, so it’s good. My old man gave me all the details on our visit yesterday. I guess the lil’ nigga trying to raise money to get his pops a good lawyer. Unfortunately, we gon’ have to put a delay on all of that. We need this bread and that work.” He blew his nose into a Kleenex, opened it and looked inside before balling it up and tossing it on the table.
From a distance I could see a lil’ blood. I wondered if that was normal for tooters. I exhaled loudly. “Man, look. I gotta get that cash back, so if we ain’t finna go right at Fax ass then I’mma ride beside you on this lick, just as long as we splitting this shit down the middle.”
