The Bed You Make: An Urban Hood Drama

by Tamicka Higgins

  Race finally let up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Shit you can suck dick!” he yelled. “Goddamn you was suckin’ on that black dick like it wasn’t nothin’. Shit!”

  The white chick, angry, looked up at Race. “You didn’t have to cum in my mouth like that.”

  Race chuckled as hhe slid his legs out of the bed and started putting on his gray sweatpants from last night. “I didn’t come in your mouth,” he said. “I came in that throat. Stop playin’ with a nigga. You know you like that shit.”

  The white chick climbed out of the bed and started to get dressed. “I told you I didn’t like that, Race,” she said, clearly irritated.

  Race shrugged his shoulders. Like many men, he basked in the glow from receiving good oral sex and having an orgasm first thing in the morning. He looked at the white chick and said, “I ain’t got time for the games and shit right now. Fuck the dumb shit. I don’t know why bitches complain when a nigga cum in they mouth but they down there suckin’ on the dick like they don’t know what the fuck might come out of it.” He chuckled, not caring one bit about how the white chick felt.

  Race watched as the chick got dressed, huffing and puffing as if someone had done her wrong. “I’m done with you,” she said, marching toward the front door. “I told you not to cum in my mouth like that.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Race said, pushing her toward the door. “My bad, my bad. I ain’t know it was about to happen no way.”

  The white chick looked back at Race as he opened the door and motioned for her to leave. With an angry look on her face, she stormed out into the hallway, telling Race to “go fuck himself” and to never call her again. Race threw a pun back, just as the elevator doors were opening, telling the chick how much she loved his black dick and that she’d be back. She said nothing, however, and walked into the elevator just as a man, Drew, had been stepping off.

  Drew, who was tall and thin, and known for his elaborate tattoos and pretty face, looked back at the white chick as the elevator door closed. When he walked up to the apartment door, he shook Race’s hand. “Damn that bitch got a fat ass,” he said. “Shit is fat as fuck for a white chick.”

  “Mmhmm,” Race said, grinning, letting Drew into the apartment. “That’s why I had to bring that ass hope with a nigga when I met her and shit. She love the dick.”

  “Then why she mad?” Drew asked, plopping down on the couch. “She looked pissed as hell.”

  Race shrugged his shoulders and he pulled his little box out from under the coffee table where he kept his stash of weed. “She mad over some dumb shit,” he said. “You know how chicks are, nigga. Like I told you on the phone and shit, she was suckin’ on my dick this morning. Well, you know how it be when a nigga bout to bust.”

  “You busted in that mouth, didn’t you?” Drew asked, grinning.

  Race simply looked over at his boy, who he’d known since the two of them worked at Target together as teenagers on the outskirts of Cincinnati. The look in his eyes let Drew know the whole deal.

  “So, nigga, about this party you try’na throw for a nigga,” Race said. “Man, I told you already. I told you like weeks ago that you ain’t have to throw no party for a nigga. You know I don’t know that many people like that to be showin’ up at no party.”

  “I know, I know,” Drew said, clearly excited. “But, still, even though you said that shit, I’mma still throw this party for you nigga. I remember that shit you told me about how you was raised and shit and how you never had no birthday party or nothin’ like that your entire life.”

  Race shrugged as he rolled the blunt. “It is what it is, nigga,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “It ain’t like it hurt me or nothin’. I just don’t want no fuckin’ drama. Cause you know how these niggas be when they get together at a club and stuff.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Drew said. “But, nigga, you gotta let me have this party for you. Plus, I was gon’ wait to tell you, but I met a couple big booty strippers that said they’d come and dance for you and a few of your niggas in a private kinda place and shit.”

  “Word?” Race asked. “Is that right? You know how a nigga love a clappin’ ass in his face.”

  “I know,” Drew said, pulling his phone out and opening his pictures. “Look at this shit. They both sent pics of their ass and this shit is fuckin’ crazy nigga.”

  Race leaned over and looked into the screen. His eyes bulged at the sight of two massive asses—asses that would put Nicki Minaj to shame and cause her to retire and become a recluse. “Damn, them hoes got some fat asses,” he commented.

  “Mmhmm,” Drew said, nodding. “Man, I don’t give a fuck what you say. You ain’t even gotta come. I’mma make sure this shit is fun as fuck. Feel me?”

  “What you mean I ain’t even gotta come?” Race asked. “How the fuck you gon’ tell me that I ain’t even gotta come when it’s for my birthday? Or so you say.”

  Drew shrugged his shoulders. “We can celebrate your birthday without you being there, nigga,” he said. “We just sing happy birthday, wish you the best, and send you pictures of the cake and the ass.” He laughed

  The two buddies shared the blunt as Drew went over the plans he had already come up with for the party. He wanted it to be at a club in the hood where they knew people, that way the place wouldn’t be so strange to him. They went over who they could invite and Race insisted on inviting some of his cousins. In particular, he wanted to invite one cousin who had just gotten done serving two years in prison. He knew, without a doubt, that he’d want to see some big booty strippers.

  When the conversation hit a quiet point, Drew took it as the chance to ask about what went down with Imani. The hood was talking, but he wanted to hear the details straight form Race’s mouth. “Man, you know everybody be talkin’,” he said. “About whatever went down with you and Imani.”

  “Yeah?” Race asked. “What they sayin’? Why you ain’t tell me already that them niggas was out there talkin’ about me and shit?”

  Drew shrugged. “Cause. I mean, I ain’t know what they was talkin’ about cause you ain’t call and tell me nothin’. But, I guess some of them niggas in the hood got niggas that live in here.”

  “Yeah,” Race said. “There’s some hood niggas that live under us and some on some other floors. I don’t fuck with them or nothin’ like that, but we met in the hallway and shit.”

  “I see,” Drew said. “So, what’s up, nigga? Why you not tellin’ about that shit? What went down with you and Imani?”

  “First, tell me what the fuck you heard about what went down with me and Imani?” Race asked. “That’s what I want to know first. Tell me, nigga. What the fuck is them niggas in the hood sayin’ about me and shit?”

  “They sayin’ that somebody got caught fuckin’ around and shit, but I don’t really know if they know what they was talkin’ about,” Drew said.

  Race shook his head. “Yeah, well,” he began, “it wasn’t me fuckin’ around on her, if that’s what you mean. Nigga, here’s what happened. You know I went up to Columbus to visit my grandma in the nursin’ home and shit. Well, I was supposed to spend the night up there but I decided to surprise her by comin’ back early and shit. So, a nigga come back early and you not gon’ believe what shit I saw when I walked in the fuckin’ door.”

  “What?” Drew asked, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

  “There was clothes, a nigga’s pants, bunched up on the floor right by this couch,” Race said. “So, like any nigga, I got mad as fuck and was like what the fuck is goin’ on. Just as I was about to walk back to the bedroom and shit, that bitch Imani came out lookin’ like I was the last person in the world she wanted to see. Long story short, I stepped into the bedroom and found that nigga John standing off to the side, in the dark like he was hidin’ from a nigga and shit.”

  “What?” Drew asked, shocked. “You not talkin’ about that nigga John that we used to run into up in the club and he was always startin’ shit.”

  “Yup,
him,” Race said. “I mean, me and him was kinda cool, but we wasn’t exactly friends or nothin’. We was always cool and shit, but you know how I am. Can’t trust niggas, especially when you got a bad chick like Imani…or had, I should say. I’m done with that bitch. She came over here last night like she was really about to do somethin’. She got that ass beat bad.”

  “Hold up, hold up,” Drew said, wanting to make sure he understood the entire situation. “That nigga John was just standin’ there? What the fuck you do?”

  “What the fuck you mean what did I do?” Race asked. “Nigga, you know me. I jumped on that nigga and was beatin’ that ass like he deserved. Then, when he got to actin’ too crazy, I put that nigga out on the street without no clothes on.”

  “Naw,” Drew said, bursting into laughter. “You lyin’, nigga. You ain’t really put that nigga out on the street without puttin’ his clothes on and shit. Naw.”

  “Yup,” Race said. “That nigga lucky I just got done dealin’ with the fuckin’ system and shit. If this had been back in the day, I woulda put a bullet in that nigga, but I’m supposed to be on a different track now, so I was like don’t let me kill the nigga and I’m the one who wind up in prison and shit.”

  “So, what he do?” Drew asked. “I mean, did the nigga come back to the door demandin’ his clothes and shit?”

  “Naw, he ain’t stupid,” Race answered. “Plus, he saw I had that heat, so he really wasn’t gonna try nothin’. He just fuckin’ left and had to walk home naked. Anyway, then him and his boys, some niggas I don’t even know, came back over here, I guess when his humiliated ass got home, and we got involved in this shootout and shit. Man, by the time the cops got to the building, I was up in this apartment with the lights off and the door closed like I ain’t see or know nothin’. What’s fucked up though is that the three of them niggas was try’na kill me. Maybe after my birthday I’mma have to make sure to catch back up with that nigga, cause we ain't finished yet.”

  “So, what about Imani?” Drew asked. “What she say?”

  “What the fuck you mean what she say?” Race asked. “I swear, nigga. You askin’ some stupid ass questions and shit. What the fuck could she say? She got caught gettin’ some dick from another nigga. I sent Maya over there to talk to her.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  “Nigga, you ain’t do that to her,” Drew said. “You sent Maya over there?”

  “Yup!” Race answered. “And she took some chick with her, but I don’t know her name. She said that I met her before, but I don’t know her or nothin’ like that. Last night, I was gettin’ my dick sucked on by this white chick last night—the white chick that was leavin’when you got here—when Imani came walkin’ through the door. And I ain’t even stop. I pushed that white girl’s head back down into my lap while I talked to Imani. I let her know that bitch you fuckin’ irrelevant. Fuck her. Shit, a nigga was gettin’ his dick sucked and shit, so I was like I don’t give two fucks. Man, it look like she got that ass beat so bad. Her ass was black and shit. Lips all fucked up. Scratches all over her face. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and shit, but you could still see she had some fuckin’ patches. Maya went over there and fucked her up. Bad, nigga. It was fuckin’ bad.”

  Drew shrugged. “Oh well,” he said. “She shouldn’t have been up in here with no other nigga, especially not that nigga John. You know the chicks in the hood stay talkin’ about that nigga and how he got a big dick and all that shit.”

  “Yeah, well,” Race said. “That’s the price she gotta pay. And the shit ain’t even over yet. Like I told you a minute ago, nigga, I’mma be after that nigga John as soon as I fuckin’ feel like it. But, when it come to Imani, I already talked to Maya and she might make a couple more visits. Imani stayin’ over at her sister’s house, ‘cause I know ain’t nobody else in her family gon’ want her around and shit.”

  “Damn, that’s fucked up,” Drew said.

  Once they’d finished the blunt, Drew started filling in Race in on the drama in his own life. While he had the mother of his three children under control, other problems were popping up when it came to his family. The drama had gotten so deep within the family that there was basically a cold war in the process.

  Eventually, Drew pulled the conversation back around to Race’s upcoming birthday party. Race simply dismissed the entire issue, saying that he’d show up to whatever event was being held. He did demand that Drew make one promise—that the strippers would be there and wouldn’t be very “uptight.” Drew laughed, knowing that his boy Race wanted to smash at least one of the strippers he’d shown him on his phone.

  “Hold up for a second,” Race said. His phone rang and he saw it was this one dude he had a deal with. He answered. “Yeah, wassup nigga?”

  “Shit,” Bryon said. “You said to hit you up today and shit so you and your people could get me the fuck up outta Cincy with this weight without bein’ caught up in some shit.”

  “Yeah, nigga, I know,” Race said. “I was just thinkin’ about that shit. You ready to roll out right now? You got the shit hidden in case some shit do go down?”

  “Hell yeah, nigga,” Byron said. “I got this big ass movin’ truck full of furniture and got the shit hidden in there. I really ain’t worried about gettin’ pulled over ‘cause I don’t think they really gon’ fuck with us, but I certainly ain’t try’na ride down no highway and walk into a fuckin’ trap or some shit.”

  “I feel you on that,” Race said. “A’ight then, nigga. I’m bout to be on my way down. You still in the same place?”

  “Yeah,” Byron said. “Park right by the red pickup outside.”

  “Naw,” Race said. “I gotta keep it movin’, so let’s make this quick. Just be waitin’ in the truck then I’mma pull up in my other car and we go from there. The other one got the windows busted out, so I ain’t drivin’ that right now.”

  Race hung up with Byron and quickly got dressed. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he and Drew headed out the door. Drew offered to ride along, since he still had plenty of time before he had to be at work. They walked past Race’s car, causing Drew to look at it. “Damn, them niggas shot your windows and shit out like that?” he asked.

  “Hell yeah,” Race answered. “I’mma fuck that nigga up. He don’t know what the fuck he got comin’. If I wasn’t so busy try’na make this money right now, I’d be lookin’ for that nigga today. I hope I roll up on him in some park or when he with some chick or some shit like that. He know he can’t take me, so he prolly gon’ be hidin’ and shit. But, I’mma find him. We gon’ find him.”

  Race drove down to a neighborhood that ran along the Ohio River, which was industrial and not too far from downtown. However, on the other side of the neighborhood was a row of run-down storefront buildings with apartments above them. One of Byron’s friends was a pimp, to say the least. He rented one of the buildings from an old white guy who simply collected the money and acted as if he knew nothing out of the ordinary was happening. In reality, Byron’s buddy had cleaned up the apartments upstairs. Once was used as sort of a shipping hub to store weight until it was time to head up to either Columbus, Indianapolis, or Dayton. The other apartments were sort of like suites for the prostitutes and their clients.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the building. Race coordinated with Byron then they each pulled off. Race led him out of Cincinnati, taking him only through the whitest parts of town where he knew the police wouldn’t be looking for a moving truck with kilos upon kilos of weight. Every time Race looked in his rearview mirror, he’d glance at the moving truck and think about how much money he was makingoff this deal. Because Race had the connections while Bryon had the transportation—the big whitemoving truck—and his friend has the “hub,” Race was rather excited to get cut in on the deal. He got a cut of the profits. And the more weight he could get sold to other cities in the Midwest, the more money he had coming his way. As of right now, he’d reached his goal of having one hundred stacks.
However, he still wanted to get to his million dollars. He wanted to throw stacks upon stacks of hundred-dollar bills on the bed and roll around like a guy who’d just won the lottery.

  Once Race had led Byron about twenty miles outside of the city, he jumped off the interstate and waved. Bryon waved back and did the telephone hand signal, motioning that he would hit him up when he got up to Columbus. After filling his tank up and climbing back into the car, Race looked over at Drew, who had an inquisitive look on his face. “What, nigga?” he asked.

  “Nothin’,” Drew answered. “Well, I was just thinkin’ about how we can get that nigga John back. I ain’t ran up on no nigga in a while. But, shit, I’d be up for that shit if you are, man. You know I got your back.”

  Race started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “Bet,” he said. “Don’t you worry. We gon’ catch up with that nigga. And we gon’ make sure we do it when he least expectin’.” He chuckled. “The nigga stupid if he think that he just gon’ smash my chick and ain’t shit gon’ happen. That nigga must be real stupid to think some shit like that. Niggas don’t fuck with me for a reason…and that nigga John gon’ fuckin’ find out real soon why that is. His boys ain’t gon’ be able to save his ass then.”

  CHAPTER 5

  In some ways, John liked having his son and the mother of his child staying with him. For the last couple of days, it’d been kind of nice to wake up and eat breakfast with his son. There were a couple of times, especially during the afternoon if the weather was nice, where John would take little Isaac out to play at the park. Isaac loved the swings, and he would always demand John push him harder and higher. John would simply laugh and push him harder, telling him to hold on to the swing so he wouldn’t go flying out.