by De'Kari
When Gunz parked and got out he was wearing a big, shit eating grin. He was proud to see how A.J. had shit going. The spot was running smoothly. Since the reigns had been turned over to A.J., he had opened up quite a few more spots. Over all, this was still the money maker.
One of the little ones that was serving packs was looking at Gunz like he was looking at Michael Jordan. “What’s up, Lil Blood?” Gunz called out to him. Lil Sammy couldn’t’ believe the Legend was talking to him, “W…what’s up, big homie!” He proudly called out louder than necessary. Hehe wanted everyone to know that the big homie had spoken to him.
Normally, DeeDee didn’t get out of the car. He oversaw all the spots in the East. Since the fall of the A-Team, they had reached out to the Gas Team, so they had West Oakland on lock right along with the East. DeeDee would ride from one spot to the other. He would park for a while and make sure shit was running the way it was supposed to. Gunz was the Big Homie and he wasn’t gone disrespect the Big Homie by making him come to him. So, he put the big thang on the driver seat and climbed out.
“What’s up, big brah?” He asked Gunz as the two embraced.
“If what I’m seeing around here is any inclination, then shit is good.” Gunz answered, referring to the clientele that was passing through the spot.
They were on the side of the store, so they could see everything going on. DeeDee subconsciously tapped the Glock .40 on his waist. He kept his eyes alert and his head on constant swivel.
“Brah, on the real, switching over to that glass shit was the best move we could’ve made, the money going dumb ass stupid.” DeeDee told him as he pulled out a pre-rolled blunt.
“That’s good, cause once they legalize this weed shit, we gone take a loss on our weed spots.” Gunz told him as he accepted the blunt from him.
“Trust me when I tell you, from the numbers that we’re seeing, we can shut all the weed spots down and our money will still climb.” DeeDee explained matter of factly.
“You sound like we done hit an oil field or something.” Gunz thought the little nigga was putting the 10 on the 2.
“Brah, we doing sixty bands a day just in this spot!” He told him with pride.
Gunz couldn’t believe what he’d heard. The pride in DeeDee’s voice and the look on his face told Gunz that the youngin’ was serious as hell! Gunz was really impressed! When it was his, this same corner did eight thousand a day, some days nine. Sixty thousand a day and they’d just started with the crystal meth. That only meant it had the potential to hit one-hundred thousand a day. AJ had already told him that they served everything from $10 packs up to a whole onion-ounce-out on the blade. They trap spots was where they served their weight.
“What time you expect to hit up wit blood?” Gunz asked referring to A.J.
“I just holler at him before you pulled up. He on his way now. “ DeeDee answered while taking a hit off the blunt.
They continued to smoke and chop it up while they waited on A.J. to pull up. Gunz was seeing what DeeDee was talking about. Money was coming hand over fist. He’d neva seen so many white people in East Oakland in all his life. What was fucking him up was the amount of Black people that were coming through buying the shit. He would’ve neva guessed so many blacks fucked around with the shit.
A.J. pulled up about ten minutes later. Of course, the two of them A.J. and DeeDee had heard about the shooting. The entire Town was talking about it. When Gunz told them about Dok’s feelings, they quickly let him know that their sentiments were the same as his. Knowing they felt the same way as he did, gave Gunz the reassurance that his team would be ready if he needed them assembled. He still wasn’t ready to make that call, but he knew he would be forced to make it sooner or later.
After talking to them a little while longer, Gunz got back in his whip and jumped on the freeway to go meet up with Urena. Normally, he wouldn’t fuck with the radio, but he needed a change of pace, so he could do some thinking. Every station was talking about the police killings. There was all types of speculation, everything from a one-man vigilante to the Black Mafia taking out hits on the police in retaliation to all the killings of blacks. Everyone was searching for Levell Jenkins aka Batman.
From the people calling into the station it was evident that the people were divided. Half believed that he was making matters worse for the people. The other half felt it was about time somebody stood up for the people. Gunz smiled to himself when a cat named Blood James called in and told Sana G that the UBN or United Blood Nation Mobb as well as Piru were one hundred percent behind Batman and what he was doing. He sent a clear message that if Batman needed any assistance, they would give it to him.
This time Urena arrived at the strip club before Gunz. As Gunz approached the table he shook his head in disgust. A manly looking chick was on top of Urena giving him a lap dance. Urena had a goofy looking smile on his face until he saw Gunz.
“U…Um…ugh. That’s it for now sweetheart. Let me take care of some business. We can…uh, finish a little later,” he nervously told her while patting her on her ass.
Gunz waited for her to leave before he took his seat. If he had to put his money on it he would’ve sworn that it was a man.
“Your extracurricular activities can be done on your own time. Keep that shit in check when you’re on my time.
“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.” Urena was nervous every time he was around Gunz.
Even though he was on duty, he had already had two drinks in hopes that it would calm his nerves.
“Make sure that it doesn’t!” Gunz hated this place. The smell of sweat, ass and alcohol were over bearing. “Tell me what you got and what you gone do about it.”
“Well so far no-one has connected him with the shooting at the funeral involving La’Mont or to your organization. I only remembered his face because the marksmanship in which he landed all three shots to the kid’s forehead from the distance he was at. If someone were to look over the evidence from the shooting and see…”
“Make sure that they don’t!” He interrupted him, “In fact, you need to make sure to steer this entire investigation and manhunt away from me and my family. If you do, you’ll be rich. If you don’t, you and your fat wife gone die.” Gunz didn’t wait for a response. He stood up, dropped the two manila envelopes on the table and walked out.
Urena greedily picked up one of the envelopes and flipped through the stack of hundred-dollar bills. There had to be twenty, maybe twenty-five thousand in the envelope he thought as he looked up and waived Sparkle back over to the table. He handed her a hundred-dollar bill and leaned back in his chair.
This was going to be easier then he’d thought. All he had to do was get rid of Levell’s name from the police report. Since he was neva booked, there was no photograph. Oh, and he would have to destroy the interview. Urena thought that would do away with any connection. No doubt there will be a shoot on sight order after the lives of so many officers were taken. So, it would be a smooth clean-up. With this in mind he enjoyed his lap dance.
**** N. D. ****
East Palo Alto, California
2 weeks later
The day was festive. It was a beautiful day out. There was free Bar-b-q and live music. The weather was nice and sunny, and everyone was enjoying themselves. It was the grand opening of Elysian Fields and the community came out in droves to celebrate the event.
Dok made his rounds through the grounds meeting mothers and fathers who were beyond grateful for what he was doing. Though they were discreet, Scooter and Rell were always in earshot of their father. If something were to pop up, they were ready.
A camera crew approached Dok as he was finishing up the conversation.
“Mister Hayes! Mister Hayes!” the reporter called out making her way to him. “Mister Hayes, Julie Haener for KTVU Fox 2. Is it possible to have a moment of your time to discuss what you are doing across the Bay Area?” When he told her yes, the camera crew kicked into gear and set up on the spot.
“Mister Hayes, so tell our viewers exactly what it is that you and your organization are doing for the black community.”
Dok hated cameras of any kind, yet for years while formulating a plan, he had been forced to come to grips with the idea that today would eventually come. Though he’d tried to figure out, he had to admit that there was no way around him getting in front of a camera. That day was finally here. Like every other challenge, he embraced this one.
“Well ,Ms. Haener, it’s simple actually. Right now, the Black Community within the urban cities of America are not only dying off and being killed by the police at a rather alarming rate, but we are slaughtering one another. As a by-product, our communities are dying. We, as a people are dying.” Dok looked over at the Brand-new community center. Everyone followed his gaze, even the camera man.
“We at Neva Die admit and acknowledge that we contributed to the destruction of our people, The Black Civilization. So, we follow closely to the teachings of Chancellor Williams, Leron Bennett, George Jackson and a few others who not only teach us the truth as to what really happened to our people. But, just as importantly, how to work towards fixing the problem we helped create.” The entire time he looked at and spoke to her instead of the camera.
She moved the microphone from his face into her own. “What exactly are some of the ways your organization is doing this?”
“Well, for starters the opening of Elysian Fields Youth Centers in Oakland, San Francisco, Richmond and right here in East Palo Alto. We also have Nubian Rootz, which is our day care center and pre-school. Neva Die’s sole mission is to strengthen our communities through love, loyalty and education which will in turn generate an economic means that our people can stand on.” The pride of his words was clearly visible on his face. Julie Haener could tell this young man enjoyed helping his community.
“Never Die. That’s a rather unique name. Where does one come up with such a name for an activist group?”
“It’s not NEVER. It’s Neva. N-E-V-A. Neva Die is an acronym. We are the New Enlightened Visionaries of African descent Destined to Increase Education and Economics. That’s what the Neva Die Movement is all about. We are all The Brotha’s God Forgave and we are giving back.” Lil Rell had been checking out a cat who looked out of place. He made eye contact with Scooter and went to go check it out.
“Brothas that God forgave?” The question itself was full of curiosity, but her look was the icing on the cake.
“We all have a past, Ms. Haener. Yet the brothas, we don’t run from ours ,we face the future and run towards it. The same energy we put into tearing up the streets, we now use to rebuild those same streets.” His tone and the finality of his statements clearly said that the interview was over.
Julie Haener had to admit that the young, black man was both powerful and intriguing. She thanked Dok for his time and asked him would it be ok to contact him for a follow-up should one be needed. He gave her a business card and made his way over to see what was up with Rell.
Dok didn’t question his son’s ability nor judgment, neither one of them. But, after all the gangsta shit, he was still a father. It turned out to be nothing. The nigga was looking for his son. The fact that he was by himself and looking around is what had caught Rell’s attention.
**** N. D. ****
Chapter XI
Stanford Hospital
“I don’t know if you are able to hear me or if I’ve just been wasting my time all these weeks. I’m going crazy some days, I don’t know which way is up.” Vieira wasn’t ashamed of the tears that escaped her eyes. She didn’t care who saw her vulnerability. As she looked at Voorheeze, she knew that she was in love.
“The Governor is making a big stink out of everything that is going on. It seems that one of the officers killed, a Sergeant Costa was a relative of his. The governor is coming down hard on us to find the suspect or suspects and bring them to justice.”
She paused to rub her hand across his forehead and down the side of his face. Her own tears landed freely in her lap. So many tears had landed that the fluid soaked through her pants.
Vieira is grateful to French Tip for allowing her total access regarding visits with him. The instructions were clear and followed. She was allowed access to him at any time, no questions asked. She was also not to be bothered during her visits, which were nearly every day.
“Some are trying to link you to all the murders. I know that they are wrong. My baby is too sweet to be involved in something like that. Hopefully, by the time you come back to me, we will have captured the people behind all of this and you can get by your situation. Then you and I can be a couple. We won’t have to hide what we have from anyone!
It’ll just be you and I and we will be so happy. La’Mont, you make me so happy! I love you La’Mont Simpson.” Chief Vieira stood up and bent down and kissed Voorheeze on the lips. The truth of her words was evident in the tender way she kissed his lip.
The doctors had explained to the family that they could awaken him at any time. The damage to his body was so severe that they felt his body would heal easier and quicker if he remained in the coma. There was no way for Vieira to know it, but Voorheeze heard every single word. It was killing him that he could do nothing but lay there lifelessly and listen. The feeling wasn’t foreign to him though. Just a couple of months before he had experienced the same feeling the first time he was in a coma. He’d almost lost his mind that time because the experience was alien to him. This time he knew what it was. That didn’t mean that he didn’t like it any less.
Vieira looked at her watch. It read 3:00pm. She gave him one more kiss and whispered in his ear, “I’ll wait forever.”
The knock on the door came right on que It was time for his sponge bath. She didn’t need to be told because the nurses were very prompt. At 3:00p.m. every day he received a sponge bath and they moved all his limbs and rolled his body. This was to prevent his blood from clotting and causing bed sores.
“Come in.” She called out as she made her way to the door to leave. The two nurses walked in and Vieira walked out.
Redwood City
Knowing that every cop in the state was looking for him, most mothafuckas would get the fuck out of dodge. Batman wasn’t most mothafuckas. He and Voorheeze were cut from a different cloth! They didn’t run from the fire. They fanned the flames and threw fuel on that shit.
“I would’ve neva believed it if I hadn’t seen the shit with my own fucking eyes.” Batman sat inside the stolen Ford F-150 Rosche edition looking out of the tinted windows.
It was a very comfortable truck, with its custom leather seats and smooth soft leather on the steering wheel. The cabin had so much room that even a seven-footer would feel comfortable sitting in the truck. He knew that the mothafucka he stole it from would be highly pissed off to lose such an expensive truck.
He was watching Jose Guadalupe Gayton also known as the ‘SCU’ Agent Gayton. He’d followed Gayton all the way from the Police Department in Milpitas where he’d stolen the truck. Now they were in the parking lot of El Grullense (El’ Greasy), a taco restaurant in Redwood City off El Camino Real.
Agent Gayton pulled into the parking lot and got out to order some food. Batman watched him and seethed internally as Gayton joked with a female who was there before him. Just the sight of the little, faggott ass, snitch made Batman’s blood boil.
“No matter how you dress it, you could give it little neon pink lights and all the badges in the world, and a snitch is still going to be a snitch. “ He said to himself as he reached for the handle and opened the door.
His plan was to follow agent Gayton to the apartment he shared with his mom. There, he was going to have fun with everyone in the house. But, he couldn’t watch this slimy little rat any longer.
He made his way towards them. As he got closer, he took his chrome .45 off his waist and held it down by his leg.
“My, so you are a bold little somebody, aren’t you Walo?” She smiled and flirted.
Only Batman noticed that she wasn’t a she, it was a he. Agent Gayton was trying to pick up a transsexual.
“I’m bold because I know I got what you need.” Agent Gayton responded grabbing the crotch of his pants.
“Oh, do you now,” the tranny asked as his eyes looked down at what Agent Gayton was grabbing.
“Since you got what mothafuckas need, can you tell me who Alvin Haynes was?” Batman asked the agent with a look of disdain on his face.
They both looked at him with a look of confusion and anger for being disturbed. Agent Gayton’s confused look was mixed with irritation.
“No man! Nobody knows who the fuck Alvin Haynes is. And we don’t give a fuck either, man! Can’t you see we’re busy?” He didn’t see the big ass .45 in Batman’s hand, but Daniella did.
“Look, honey, I don’t want no problems. I’m just waiting on my food and I’m gone. Whatever y’all got going on, Mama’s, I don’t want no part of it.” The wig, makeup and fake tits did not fool Batman. He knew it was a dude. Fuck all the bullshit.
“Don’t ever address me with your vile, disease filled, dick sucking mouth. “Pure hatred was laced into the words Batman spewed out.
“Hey, man! Watch your mouth around the lady!” Agent Gayton was so enraged by the blatant disrespect. Plus, he didn’t need this crazy motherfucker to fuck off his chances of getting laid tonight.
“A lady? Mothafucka, you can’t see that, that’s a mothafuck’n man!” It was clear to Batman, God and even Stevie Wonder that Daniella was a man.
Daniella may have been a transsexual now but he was also an ex-Norteno and right then all the ex-gangbanger came out in full force. “Now hold the fuck up, homeboy!” His arms still flailed about like Sha-nay-nay or Wanda from In Living Color. “You ain’t got to be out here disrespecting….”
The big ass hole that the bullet of the .45 made in his forehead shut that shit up faster than a mothafucka.