by Anna J.
As I thought about Chase and gave my honey dip my best work ever, I slowly started to formulate a plan that would clear me of everything. For the first time that night, I had a smile on my face.
Chase
The Informer
There’s nothing worse than a lying-ass snitch. People like that just do something to my spirit. When a man goes out of his way to make sure you eat, never ever bite his hand. Unless, of course, you want to get slapped upside the head with it. I really liked to run a tight operation, but folks always needed to be made examples of, even though I tried to keep shit peaceful at all costs.
Once Goon brought the issue with OG to my attention, I set my radar on him to see what he was really up to. I had questions, but I didn’t necessarily want to speak to him about it. I needed to see things with my own eyes. Give them enough rope . . . then come back and kick the chair. One thing was for certain: people would always tell you exactly what you wanted to hear, but would also show you exactly what you needed to see. Don’t take anyone’s words for law; always watch their actions. Actions haven’t told a lie yet.
He was an acquaintance of Goon’s, so when he asked to get put on, I gave him the opportunity. He lived in a neighborhood near the college where we sometimes played ball, so I figured he could get those off-campus sales, and the glow up would be real. Because we were men, I didn’t micro-manage any of them. I was expecting them to live up to the goals we set on our initial meeting. I don’t just scoop any old body off the street and give them drugs to sell. It was a process. It was not like they were getting hazed or anything, but we just needed to know that you were trustworthy and wanted to work your way up. No one sold drugs forever; you had to have a way out. This was supposed to be a temporary thing, and that was a part of the conversation when they were first bought on board.
There was a stigma to being a drug dealer, one that I was not just going to lay down in and get comfortable. Silly me, but I truly believed that there was a way out of the game, and my team was not going to be the average Joe Blow drug boys. This was supposed to be temporary, I mean, to make ends meet until we moved on to bigger and better. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work out that way, and that’s when that example came rolling in. Someone always tried to fuck up the church’s money. It’s like we could never just have good days without someone throwing salt in the damn pot. It was very annoying and disheartening.
Why are you here? They always looked astonished when I asked them that. Dig, we all had hard times. Okay, maybe not all of us, but if you were turning to illegal distribution of a narcotic or something similar, there was something going on. No one dealt because they ain’t got shit else to do. There were way too many options to choose from. Dealing drugs was at the very bottom of the totem pole. Nobody wanted that Walmart and McDonald’s money, even though it was the most legit way to go. How could you say you didn’t want to make $11 an hour when at your current state, you were bringing in zero? That logic had always been lost on me, but instead of getting that little bit of money, they’d rather put everything at risk. At least at an establishment you have set hours. The drug game was 24/7/365. We didn’t get no days off. This was a nonstop grind where you were expected to report every day, weekends and holidays.
“I need to feed my family.”
That’s the answer 99% of them gave. They either had a kid or ten, one on the way, mom sick, behind on bills, no education, so they can’t find a job that pays enough, too proud to work at McDonald’s or Walmart . . . the list goes on forever. However, none of that meant a damn thing to me. What was the plan to get back on your feet so that you didn’t have to do illegal shit to survive? Silence . . . and a confused-ass look because they never had a plan.
At this point, the test began. I calmly explained expectations. We got rich so that we could move on. Build your team so that you were out of the line of fire. Stay honest because that was the only way I wouldn’t kill you. Some of them got it; some of them we put in the dirt. That was the nature of the business, unfortunately.
OG seemed different. He was a little dusty, but I could see that he could be polished up and groomed if he were willing to put in the work. He worked at FedEx overnight and had a second kid on the way by his girl since middle school. He did graduate from high school but wasn’t beat for that college shit. (His words, not mine.) His goal was to stack enough bread to buy a FedEx truck. From the way he explained it, a lot of the guys that drove for UPS/ FedEx owned the truck and got paid for the route. That was where the real money was, not sorting packages for four to six hours a night.
I was glad to see he had an agenda, but with drug money, if played right, it would look way more appealing than what he could make at FedEx. The idea was to keep them focused. He also had an advantage with the truck because he could easily move weight across the borders while delivering packages. Some drivers were local; others drove as far as DC and Virginia. If he were smart, he would get some shit started out of town away from home base that no one could tamper with.
I had to always remember everyone didn’t have my business sense, and trying to teach these dudes the hustle was tiring. I led them right to the water, put they damn lips up to the shit, and these dumb asses still wouldn’t drink.
So, my operation was a family business, and these men were my brothers. What happened to one of us affected all of us. I drilled that in their heads constantly. What you did on your own reflected us as a whole. If you found shame in any act, do not, under any circumstances, bring shame to the family. Most times, if a person just asked for help, we could come up with a plan that was best for everyone involved. It was when these fools tried to take matters into their own hands that shit got messed up. It happened every single time.
OG was pretty cool at first. He stayed focused, even opened an official bank account to stash his money in. He flossed a little, but that was to be expected. Once those bills get caught up, breathing became a little easier. Life hit different when you were back on top. His girl even found a job to help out, and they were on easy street. They even copped a whip to get around in, and I was just happy that he was sticking to the course. It seemed that he was on track to building a team, too, and this meant that eventually I could branch him off and let him do his thing. He’d have his own truck for FedEx, still getting drug money, kingpin status, and life would be easy. Everything was going in the direction it was supposed to.
What I didn’t know, and found out later, was that OG was a drug addict himself—a functioning addict, but an addict nonetheless. Goon was just as surprised as I was. I thought maybe he was just smoking weed. Damn near the entire team did that. We had the best loud selection in the hood. I just wasn’t interested, and Goon had to stay clean to get into the NBA. It wasn’t until OG’s account started coming up short that it became a concern.
When I sat and looked at Chantel’s books, I could see over the course of a few months that his count was getting lower and lower. He went from turning in his cash on time to turning it in late. That later turned into it being late and short, or sometimes not at all. When Goon approached him about it, he got all defensive, claiming Goon was calling him a thief. What I appreciated about Goon was he didn’t fly off the handle right away. What we did affected all of us. Goon got that, and since OG was on his team, that made them as a team look crazy. None of them appreciated it, so he had to be dealt with accordingly.
“His eyes were bloodshot like shit, and he could barely stand up straight,” Goon reported as we conversed about him one night. “Weed ain’t never had me like that. Not even the loudest of loud. Clyde told me OG was using the product, and I didn’t want to believe it, but when I saw him like that, I felt like it was true. When I saw the video, I knew for definite.”
He pulled out his phone and pulled up a video in this Facebook group called Spice Gang. Lo and behold, there was OG at a party, sniffing lines like a pro. That definitely wasn’t his first time at the rodeo, but I wasn’t angry. I was more so disappointed. I told Goo
n I would handle it, and we moved forward with no questions asked. The trust level Goon and I shared was undeniable. We didn’t have to hash out everything. He knew I was good for my word, and when I called to make the move, he just showed up. Everything I did was for the team. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind about it as far as I knew.
When I showed up at OG’s house, his kid’s mom answered the door, looking miserable as hell. Her belly looked like it was going to pop any day, and she looked like she had been crying nonstop. I had never seen her before that day, and I almost felt bad about what was going to happen to her if her dude didn’t come correct. I didn’t feel too bad about it, though. He dug this grave for himself. He knew he had a family at stake. In this business, none of that mattered. She was about to find that out whether she was ready or not.
“Hey, love, I’m looking for OG,” I explained to her once she answered the bell. I had a smile on my face, but I was really not in a happy mood. I knew enough to know that it wasn’t wise to alarm folks that had nothing to do with the matter at hand. She didn’t need to know there was a problem brewing.
“Me too,” she responded with an attitude.
I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. After all, she was pregnant and emotional. He could have been gone for a few days or a few hours. I wasn’t going to jump to conclusions just yet. I needed to see how much information I could get from her first. From the looks of her, she was already stressed to the max, so there was no need for me to add anything extra.
“Word? I thought he said he would be here. When was the last time you saw him?” I asked as I made myself comfortable against the door jamb. Staring at her, I could see that she used to be a dime. Now she was more like a six, but that could be for any number of reasons. A baby would do some strange shit to your body. Everyone didn’t get that happy pregnant glow that I’ve heard about. Coupled with her now drug-addicted baby father, she was going through it.
In the midst of our conversation, another kid walked up and grabbed her leg. He looked just like OG. I quickly prayed that we could rectify this situation without bringing harm to everyone.
“It’s been a few days. Ever since he got on this shit, he been missing in damn action. He supposed to be selling drugs, not using them. This baby due any day now, and my son—”
At that point, I tuned her out. She pretty much confirmed what I needed to know. He was getting high, more than likely on our product, and that was simply against the rules. I didn’t care how much weed they smoked as long as it didn’t affect their work flow. Our product definitely would. Now it was time to put the hit out on this fool. I didn’t have time to be dealing with a coke addiction. I didn’t hold addict meetings and shit for folks. Either you could handle your shit, or step off until you could. Don’t put me in a compromising position to have to lay hands on you. Goon would be very sad to hear this info, but we knew going in what the deal was. We handled everyone accordingly, all feelings aside.
“Thanks for your time, love. I’ll send him your way if I see him,” I assured her, cutting her rambling off mid-sentence. She was saying some more shit, but I was already down the steps and in my car, putting the word out that I needed him found as soon as possible. With drug addicts, you gotta move in silence, but quickly. We didn’t want him trying to jet out on us before we got what we needed from him.
As I was making my way back to campus, I kept getting calls and texts from Chantel. I figured it might be something up with the books, but right now, I had bigger fish to fry. I was irked that I even had to take him out like that, but I had to set the example. If I let him get away with it, they would all think it was free reign. My phone buzzed again, and I decided to answer this time. Whatever it was apparently couldn’t wait.
“Hey, Chantel, tell me something good.” I spoke into the phone, preparing to hear that OG was found.
“It’s your brother. It’s not looking good. You need to get here now.”
My stomach instantly tied up in knots, and I felt like I would vomit. What happened? I turned my car in the direction of his off-campus apartment and gunned the gas. I couldn’t do this without him, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to go on a rampage for someone causing harm to him. All kinds of crazy thoughts ran through my head, and I could only hope I was overreacting.
Chase
The End of The Road
By the time I got to his apartment, I barely made it through the door. My brother was lying on the floor, foaming at the mouth, and I already knew he had overdosed. I had the foresight to call Goon on the way to meet me at the spot just in case it was more than I could handle. He had already started packing the crib up before I even arrived, and that’s why he was my number one man. He knew what to do in any situation that I wasn’t around for. There was no way we could invite the cops in with the amount of drugs we had on the premises. This shit would have the entire book thrown at us a hundred times, and we’d all be under the jail. Chantel was freaking out, but I told her it looked like he was already gone well before we pulled up. As they were taking the last of the product out, I called the cops to let them know we found my brother on the floor.
“You don’t know shit,” I instructed Chantel as she cried with his head in her lap. The sound that came out of her would not be easily forgotten. She cried from the pit of her stomach, and I knew everyone in the building could hear her. I didn’t bother to stop her. She cried for both of us and just didn’t know it. The pain she was feeling, I felt a million times over, unwilling to believe what I was seeing in front of me. I sat down on the floor next to her for appearance’s sake and to give her support. I was ready to run screaming through the campus, but I had to keep things together. If I was going to be running shit, I could not show weakness. Not even in death.
I already knew this day would come, so I was kind of prepared for it. That is taking into consideration that you can actually prepare for this kind of thing. I had been getting word about my brother being high when the squad came to cop up with him half the time passed out on the couch. Thank God for loyalty. They could have easily just dipped out with some extra shit, and he wouldn’t have been the wiser. He didn’t keep the best books, so he would have been trying to recoup either way. He was starting to look like a fiend the last time I saw him, so I had mentally begun to prepare myself for this day. It actually took longer than expected. At the rate he was going, he should have dropped a long time ago.
We even conversed about it, and I asked him why he was doing this to himself. He had a lot to live for. He was graduating at the top of his class, and our dad had already secured a spot for him in the biomed program at Temple. His future was set up lovely, and the rest of his life was going to be just as breezy as the first half was. We came from privilege and didn’t have to work hard to obtain anything. We were kids of the wealthy. We didn’t struggle. That’s why I couldn’t understand what was really going on with him. We were living the best life possible, yet he was unhappy.
“I’m really not beat for that kind of life, bro,” he revealed to me one night while he distributed packages to the team. He was including me more on the running of the operation so that I could eventually step in when he was ready to step out. I was grooming one of my men the same way. We would still report to him, but he would be untouchable under the radar. That’s the way you run an empire. I learned best from his example. “I’d rather just let this money work for me until I’m gone. I haven’t spoken to Dad about it, but I will. I just wanted to let you know that it’s almost time for you to step up. I’d rather plane hop to exotic islands than be sitting on someone’s office. I’m not that dude.”
That was three weeks ago to date. Did he do this shit on purpose? I thought I had more time, and this OG mess had me occupied, so I wasn’t able to put much thought into what he was saying. I felt so guilty. There had to be more to it than what he was saying, but from what I could see, my brother was truly living the life. What secret was he holding on to? What happened that made him not want to be here any
more? I had tons of questions, but they wouldn’t be answered.
By the time the ambulance got there, he was pronounced dead. I was so angry with him. He was supposed to be calling me from some pink sand beach, telling me about all the hoes he bedded since he was overseas. He was supposed to invite me out to enjoy the fruits of our labor, and I was supposed to decline because it was business as usual. We were going to be large in this game, but he copped out on me. That shit had me pissed.
I felt horrible for Chantel. Yeah, the EMT workers probably could have saved him if we had called sooner, but my brother would have wanted us to protect the operation. People overdose daily, so they knew how to bring them back, but letting them in was too risky. She didn’t get that part. We still needed to eat even after he was gone. I tried to comfort her, but she wasn’t checking for me at all. She blamed me, and I wasn’t sure why. I knew my brother pep-talked her about the business as well. Maybe she didn’t believe him. She called me every name she could think of, a few times charging into me and swinging wildly, trying to cause bodily harm, just to turn and collapse in my arms, her cry echoing off the walls. She loved my brother. We all did. It was just that sometimes, things happened out of our control. This was one of those things.
When I called my parents to tell them of his passing, they were devastated. My mom’s cry sounded just like Chantel’s but worse. They didn’t know the life we were leading on campus, and I damn sure wasn’t about to tell them. I pretended that I had no idea of his drug use and was just as shocked as they were when the doctor told us there was cocaine found in his system. Of course, our dad was in denial and demanded a full toxicology report. My mom fainted at the news and ended up in urgent care to get herself together. Come to find out, she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since she got the news and had become dehydrated.
