Laugh Now

by Rahiem Brooks

  “He killed a cat and threw it at a brick wall. He made BG

  suck his dick at gunpoint while wearing pink panties. I got it on tape.”

  “So, what now since you have this all figured out, I see.” “Keep getting that fucking bread.”

  CHAPTER 35

  How delicious it was, the checkmate, he thought. Far more gratifying than writing a million dollars worth of bad checks. Well, maybe not that pleasant, but Kareem felt lordly after what he had done to Agent McKenzey. He confronted his brother’s oppressor with a superfluity of evidence of his own to temporarily free his brother. In order to remain free, Kareem contemplated his next score.

  Kareem had checked into the Grafton on Sunset Hotel and took off the suit that he had worn. He sat on top of the cooling system that protruded from under the windowpane and stared at the sky. Fifties blues played through the radio.

  Dre was in the Jacuzzi and thought heavily about his brother’s infallibility. He had no idea what he was going to do after the sojourn in Los Angeles. Everything seemed ethereal. Kareem had been an unobtrusive sentry, and he needed to show that he appreciated his brother’s beautiful mind.

  Kareem, despite his worries, did not want to bask in the victory. He banged on the bathroom door, and startled Dre. “Get the fuck out of the tub. You’re not auditioning for an Oil of Olay commercial.”

  “For what? You have me up in this fancy ass hotel and I’m going to live it up, like a rock star.”

  “Look, I need you to get out, so that we can do a little shopping before we hit the club. I have to find a shot of ass for the night.”

  “Ass? Did you say ass? I’ll be right out.”

  Before Kareem headed out of the hotel, he called Jean- Mary and informed her that they were fine. A short cab ride from the hotel and the two brothers entered Saks Fifth Avenue.

  Dre did not want to be in the ritzy department store. “Kareem, what the hell are we doing in here? This rich ass store. I am tryinna thug it: jeans, T-shirt, Tims. I got limited funds, and I’m not wasting it on these pricey ass clothes. Especially not to look like a fag.”

  Kareem silenced his older brother. “Listen, you’re not in Philly. In life you’re going to learn that the world is ninety percent image and ten percent wealth. You have us on radar with that damn white tee and jeans. This thing is, you could easily be wealthy enough to buy this property and all the clothes in it, but you’re on their radar based on your image. You have a lot to learn, son. Take notes.”

  When they arrived in the men’s department, Dre was bored. Rather than look around, he took a seat on one of the plush sofas, and forced Kareem to scoff. “Get up!” Kareem signaled for the Saks sales lady and asked her to give her brother a LA makeover.

  Bianca looked Dre up and down with her sexy, beady eyes. In a sanguine tone, she responded, “I’m a wizard. I’ll have him ready for Dublin’s in no time.”

  Kareem reminded Dre, “Yes, you’ll be bubblin’ in Dublin’s in no time.”

  Of all the times, Dre had heard I Just Wanna Love U (Give it 2 Me) off the Jay-Z The Dynasty album, he had never known that Dublin’s was a LA club.

  Bianca took Dre by the hand to the dressing area along with a slim velvet suit, a red hacking jacket and black pant. Dre wanted to resist, but Bianca had convinced him by the allure of the Gucci pieces. “Go ahead. Try it on. I’ll be back with more pieces.”

  Kareem was in the Prada section going mad. He grabbed a few pieces for the night, but he would return for a few other things before he left LA.

  Bianca returned to the dressing room and knocked on the door. In her French accent, she yelled quietly, “Come on out, Dre. It can’t be that bad. Come out.”

  Dre came out with a grin on his face. “Dre Bezel the Great has gone Hollywood,” he said conceitedly and popped his collar.

  Kareem turned and saw that his brother looked like a million bucks. “Lose the arrogance, though, lil’ nigga.”

  Dre looked at Bianca excitedly. “What else you got? I can get used to LA.”

  Kareem was unimpressed with his brother’s new-found arrogance, and would pass along all of his elitist etiquette that he had learned in life. Kareem had no intention of changing Dre’s mentality, but he would show him the ropes to garner what he desired in life, to be amongst the Talented Tenth. If Dre was as fast as Kareem at learning the ropes, he would climb the rope as quickly as his younger brother.

  Dre chose three different ensembles, two watches, and three different types of footwear: Issey Miyake sneakers, Salvatore Ferragamo loafers, and D Squared boots. Kareem was flabbergasted.

  When Bianca completed ringing up the purchases, it totaled $8,250.39. Dre complained, “Look, these things are nice, but...”

  “Don’t worry, I got this one,” Kareem said and pulled out his cell phone. When the called party answered, he said, Hey, Madeline, this is David. I need for you to use the miscellaneous account to purchase some pieces for my L.A. Richard Tyler audition.” After a brief pause, he said, “You’re the damn publicist, and you work for me, so act like it!”

  Publicist! Dre thought perplexed.

  Kareem passed along the phone to Bianca who loved the way that Kareem treated the publicist. She hated people blocking other people’s purchases, and ultimately her commission. At 10%, she stood to get $800 and some change from that purchase. She was seeing that sale through.

  ***

  During the ride back to the hotel, Dre inquired what had happened at Saks. “Who the hell, or why do you have a damn publicist?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then who the hell just paid for nine-grand in gear, nigga?”

  Kareem’s response was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. “Here she is now.” After a brief conversation, Kareem gave the phone to Dre.

  “Hello?” Dre spoke nervously.

  “What’s up, my nigga?” It was Marquis.

  “Where’s Madeline? The rich bitch.”

  “Right here, darling?” Marquis said, mimicking a woman’s

  voice, startling Dre.

  CHAPTER 36

  When they arrived back to the hotel, Kareem decided that he would share some of his secrets with his older brother. Dre marched around the room in new gear like a kid at Christmas.

  “Yo, if you can stop prancing around for a moment, I can bless you with something...”

  “Hold up,” Dre said, cutting him off. “I strut, not prance.”

  “Prancing, strutting. Tomaytoe. Tomahtoe. The key word here is listening. Get it. Got it. Good.” After a pause, Kareem went on. “I already told you image trumps wealth, and by the way you’re”—he cleared his throat—“strutting that is evident. Doing what I do is completely responsible for the total makeover of Jean-Mary’s home. You complained that I was her favorite, so that was why I traded the Lexus for the Benz. No, I provided the cash for the down payment, and I pay the note. What I do is like taking candy from a baby, as you just saw at Saks. I use fake ID’s—I call them faces—to buy shit with check books and credit cards that belong to someone else.” Dre looked confused. Kareem continued, “Yeah your brother is up. Had you not been so wrapped in the drug game, which is bullshit by the way, you’d also be up. But make no mistake, you’re going to be.”

  “So, how do I get down?”

  “You don’t. You fall back and chill. Let me do this.” Kareem went to the bar and poured himself a screwdriver with extra orange juice.

  “Kareem, I have the game sowed up with the Rican’s. I can make a nice profit, if I am on my own.”

  “I can make that happen. Just sit back and chill for a minute, though. Just know that is a short ride. I have enough money to launch my entire line, and I am working on the advertising and manufacturing costs. You need to be securing the money to start that accounting/tax firm you wanted to do. Or have you lost that dream?”

  “Naw. I still want to have a corporate chain of accounting firms and investment firms. What about McKenzey?”

  “Fuck dat, c
lown! I already know that he is coming for us. I am a few steps ahead of him, though, and I am gonna do me. Period!”

  “This is not chess.” Dre reminded his little brother.

  “Oh, it is my friend. And in the end, I’ll be the one to check mate.” Kareem let that sink in and then said, “Get dressed. We have some partying to do.”

  ***

  At the bar, Dre ordered an Incredible Hulk—a mixed drink consisting of Hypnotiq and Hennessy, with a touch of vodka— and sipped the green libation with class. Dre titled his head back and swallowed the whole glass, and then ordered a vodka and orange juice.

  Dre was engrossed in the Dublin and overall LA ambiance. It was much different than Philadelphia. He stood—to roam around—and Kareem grabbed him.

  Kareem warned him, “You’re a little tipsy. No cussin’. No blasphemous behavior. Be on your suave shit and the girls will flock.”

  “Now, you’re telling me about women? What the fuck you know besides Toi, and she is a virgin, nigga!”

  Kareem ignored that, because he had more notches on his belt than Dre could ever imagine. “Tell them you’re from Philly and show off your six-pack. They’ll want to fuck the drunken East Coast, nigga.”

  Kareem had more profitable things on his mind. His priority was himself, but Dre was equally important. His brother had been beguiled by the ghetto of Philadelphia. Now was the time to move on. Together the two of them could not be stopped. Kareem relaxed at the bar, sipping Seagram’s gin. He decided to try the drink that Peety Pablo endorsed.

  At two a.m., the brothers headed back to the hotel. Dre had scored a light skinned vixen named, Erin. Kareem thought that she looked better in the club. He hoped that Dre kept the room light dim like the club to augment her beauty.

  ***

  Kareem lay in his hotel bed, ignoring Erin, whom played hard to get with Dre. Kareem could not believe the duckling played with his older brother’s emotions. Kareem could not take the lies that she spat, so he exited stage left and landed in the tub. After relaxing in the bath, he lathered his body with the hotel lotion. He was restless. After a half-hour, he exited the bathroom, but tried to back up and not be noticed. Too bad, the bathroom light announced him like a Boeing jet landing on the White House lawn. Naked and tired of Erin’s bullshit, Kareem walked out of the bathroom and hung his semi-hard dick in her face. He hated to step on his brother’s toes, but he knew what she wanted. Why else would she be in their hotel room. Non- committal sex, he thought. The best kind.

  She reached out and touched his hardness. He gripped himself and slapped her lips with his dick before he grabbed the back of her head and slipped himself into her mouth. Dre realized that his little brother, “the nerd,” had stolen his bitch.

  Erin wanted two dicks, so she motioned for Dre to move closer, and then reached out and pulled Dre’s dick out his boxers.

  Erin had a professional head game, too. An authentic Ph.D. in brain surgery. She had taken control of the situation, like a real woman should. She pushed Kareem back onto the bed and crawled over top of him and put him back into her mouth with her ass perched in the air. Dre seized the moment to put a leash on his dick, and then slipped deep into Erin’s guts from the back. She let out a deep groan, and looked back smiling. She was a big girl. To prove it, Dre began to pound into her. He was sexually adroit and she was about to learn it.

  After twenty minutes of exciting strokes, Dre sweated profusely. He dripped sweat on Erin’s lower back as another ten minutes flew by. And then, he viciously attacked Erin’s insides, she expected him to cum, and she pushed him out of her.

  “Fuck me in the ass.” She begged, and Dre obliged.

  “Oh, I love that,” she said, after Dre spit between her ass cheeks. When she was moist, he slid deep into her back door.

  Dre controlled his rhythm, because he was already about to cum, but he didn’t want to disappoint Erin, or look like a lame to his brother. After Dre began to cum, he pulled out of her and slipped the condom off. She let Kareem pop out of her mouth and she quickly turned around and deep throated Dre. She pulled on his shaft to milk him dry. “Get that pussy,” she said to Kareem.

  Kareem was impressed as Erin threw herself back on him. Again taking control, Erin pushed him back to the bed and she straddled over top of him and began to ride him.

  Tough!

  Express!

  Leisurely!

  Profound!

  Crush!

  Recoil!

  Dre was in the background watching Kareem go to work.

  He had watched Saved by the Bell’s Screech, grow up before his eyes. Kareem had slapped her ass cheeks and helped her bounce on him. He gripped up her waist and forced her to slam hard against his pelvis. She loved every moment, and let him know, by continually telling him to, “Beat that pussy up, nigga. Kill that shit.”

  “You like this Philly dick, don’t you?” Kareem boasted, right before he came. He pulled out of her, and said, “Let me bust all over your face”.

  She grinned. “Bust all of over this face,” she said, and lapped up every drop that escaped his dick.

  Without a second thought, Erin gathered her things, dressed and left the hotel room. When the door closed behind her both brothers looked at each other and busted out in laughter. The joke was on Erin.

  CHAPTER 37

  The following day, Kareem was alarmed to hear a knock on the hotel door. He opened it and found, Toi and Marquis. Toi jumped into Kareem’s arms, while he avoided face-to-face contact. He had not brushed his teeth and did not want her to feel the heat of his morning breath. He put her down and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Restlessly, Kareem emerged from the bathroom and got back under the covers. Toi sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulders.

  Marquis sat at the desk and flipped through the hotel guide, as Kareem told him and Toi about the police station drama. He strategically left out the private investigator portion of the story. He didn’t want to alarm Toi into thinking that he would have an investigator follow her. Toi was fascinated, but she was eager to hit the luxurious streets of Hollywood. She sat there done from head to toe, ready for Sunset Boulevard.

  Kareem picked up the phone and called, Bianca. Marquis went through his luggage and pulled out a handful of fresh, stolen credit card numbers with all of the customers information included.

  With the clothes on the way, Kareem asked Dre and Marquis, “What are ya’ll doing today? There’s no way that we are going to flank Toi like body guards.”

  Toi gave Kareem an encouraging smile, before she said, “That may not be a bad idea, though. Give LA the idea that I am a celebrity.”

  Marquis answered, “We don’t need ya’ll. I got this. Dre, pack what you have, I’mma get you your own room, and then we outta here.”

  Marquis took Dre to the front desk and got them both their own hotel rooms on the same floor as Kareem’s. He had left Kareem with a folder full of all the essentials, he needed to do his business in Los Angeles.

  ***

  At two-thirty, Kareem and Toi exited the staircase on the main level of the Grafton and had all eyes on them. Toi wore the sexy Mandarin-like scent of Dior Bronze Sweet Sun fragrance by Christian Dior. Kareem had spritzed on a soft musk scent of Yves St. Laurent Rive Gauche Pour Hommes, a complimentary gift from Bianca. Bianca had also sent Kareem a white with yellow pin stripe technical mesh blazer, and pant, both, Burberry Prosum. His attire complimented Toi’s yellow strapless number by Tom Ford for Gucci. They were an up- and-coming Will and Jada entering the stretch limo to tour the celebrity homes of Hollywood.

  Toi was excited to see where the celebrities laid their heads during their down time. Kareem was equally excited, but his excitement was smooth and restrained. They took photos of the experience.

  Kareem eventually looked deep into her eyes and romantically put his arm around her shoulders. “Make no mistake. One day...We will live like this, fo’ sho’.”

  Toi rested her head on his should
er and trusted his every word.

  ***

  Dre and Marquis were on a more mischievous mission. They had attacked Rodeo Drive and the Beverly Center with stolen credit cards. Dre had more bags in his hands than a street bum. He hadn’t stopped shopping until he couldn’t carry another bag.

  At every boutique they went into, Dre looked in amazement, and asked each clerk for the hottest clubs and underground nightspots in the city.

  Along with the shopping, Marquis had the duty to further bring Dre into the twenty-first century. Kareem had focused on image. Now, Marquis set out to focus on wealth. Marquis emphasized the importance of a plentiful financial security blanket. He noted the worth of stacking cash, while pursuing a dream career to get out of any illegal activity. “Shoot to be an entrepreneur in the field that you love most, so that you’ll live a rewarding life doing what you’re loyal too,” was the words that most inspired Dre.

  Dre was forced to see that there was something outside the ghetto, and rich, white people were not the only ones privy to it.

  CHAPTER 38

  Toi and Kareem had requested that the limo driver take them to the most luxurious home décor stores in LA. When they entered the first showroom, Kareem was in heaven on Earth. He and his wife-to-be shopped to furnish their first home together. The moment was special and would be cherished for a lifetime.

  With his good checkbook in hand, Kareem settled on a chocolate crocodile sofa and loveseat, with over-sized removable arms. It was worth $17,000. He had the interior designer ring up a brown tripod style lamp with a cream lamp shade that was covered in a world map.

  Kareem had the things shipped to a vacant apartment in Marquis’ New York building. The landlord had trusted Marquis to show off the apartment to potential renters, but he only showed the apartment to Fed-Ex drivers and loose women. Kareem would have the furniture shipped to his home, as soon as it arrived. Toi and Kareem discussed the color scheme that they wanted throughout the loft and decided on chocolate and cream to compliment the hardwood floor and cream marble abacus.