by Dorian Sykes
Wink looked over at Fat Mike, who gave him the nod like it was cool. Wink lifted his hoodie and dug the paper bag out his drawers. He set the bag on the table and said, “That’s ten grand.”
“A’ight then, young dawg. Good business. Good business,” Tony repeated as he counted the money.
“I’ma holla at you later.” Wink stuffed the ounces back inside the cereal box.
“I’ll be here. Just come through.” Fat Mike let Wink out the back door and watched as he leaped the back gate.
Tony kept the agreed-upon five hundred dollars and handed Fat Mike the rest.
“I’m not gon’ have to kill his young ass, am I?” asked Tony, real name Fred.
“You saw how frail he is. Wink don’t want no problems. He gon’ have to just charge it to the game,” Fat Mike assured Fred while he separated his cut from J-Bo’s.
Chapter Fourteen
J-Bo lay in the cut on Wink. He waited until the night shift, then sent Rayfield up to buy ten rocks. Just as J-Bo suspected, Wink had mixed half of his own rocks in with some of J-Bo’s.
J-Bo gave Rayfield Wink’s five rocks and watched as he packed his pipe, then beamed up to...
“What the fuck is that shit?” yelled Rayfield. He choked and spat from the smoke.
“This what you sellin’ these days?” he asked, still gagging.
“Nah, that’s what li’l bastard calls himself try’na sell. Just don’t know he’s gon’ get himself seriously hurt out here.” J-Bo looked up at the spot from across the street.
“The shit done fucked my pipe up. I don’t know what it is, but it sure in the hell ain’t crack.”
“I got five real ones for you, but I need you to go in there and check the dog shit outta his li’l ass.”
“What you mean? Like, beat his ass? ’Cause you know I don’t discriminate.”
“Nah, just choke his ass up a little. I’ma come in once you spook him.”
“Say no more.” Rayfield got out the car and crossed the street.
J-Bo watched as he climbed the steps and disappeared inside the spot. J-Bo really liked Wink, so he wasn’t going to let anything happen to him, but he still had to be taught a lesson, and who better than Rayfield’s crazy ass to teach him?
Rayfield put his screw face on as he climbed the steps. He balled up his fist and pounded on the door like a madman.
Wink’s eyes bucked at the sound of the pounding. He jumped to his feet and grabbed everything off the table and rushed over to the stash spot in the fireplace. Who else but the police would be beating down the door like that?
“I know your ass is in there. Open this door!” yelled Rayfield.
Hearing Rayfield’s voice sorta put Wink at ease from knowing it wasn’t the police. But he was still a bit hesitant to open the door. Why was this nut yelling and banging?
“Open up this fuckin’ door!” yelled Rayfield.
“What’s up?” Wink shouted from inside.
Rayfield stepped back, then rammed his shoulder into the door, sending it flying open. Wink jumped back. The door nearly hit him in the head.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, back stepping into the living room. Fear filled every cell of his body as Rayfield backed him into the corner next to the fireplace.
“You sold me some fuckin’ gank. That’s what’s up. But you knew that, didn’t you?” asked Rayfield. The look in his eyes was that of a deranged man.
“You know I wouldn’t play you like that, Ray man. We cool. I can make it up.”
“Nah, fuck that.” Rayfield charged Wink with his hands outstretched. He grabbed hold of Wink’s scrawny little neck and commenced to choking the shit out of him. To his surprise, though, Wink was fighting back, or at least trying to. He kicked and swung wildly, but to no avail.
“That’s right, go to sleep,” whispered Rayfield as he watched Wink’s eyes flutter. He was losing consciousness.
J-Bo rushed into the living room and snatched ole Rayfield off of Wink. Rayfield had forgotten he was only supposed to be scaring Wink. He had blanked out in that bitch. J-Bo stood between the two with his arms stretched out.
“Here you go. I’ma catch you later.” J-Bo handed Rayfield his well-deserved five rocks.
“Thanks, baby. And you need to teach slim how to throw his hand,” Rayfield said on his way out.
“Nah, school’s out,” said J-Bo as he turned and focused his attention on Wink, who was bent over at the knee, trying to catch his breath.
“Why’d you let him go? We shoulda fucked him up,” said Wink, struggling to stand up.
“Never mind that. Stand yo’ ass up and look at me.”
Wink pushed himself up from his knees and leaned against the fireplace.
“I want you to tell me the truth. You up here sellin’ your own shit?” asked J-Bo.
Wink stopped breathing. His eyes grew to the size of two fifty-cent pieces.
“Don’t lie to me,” warned J-Bo.
Wink dropped his head like a nigga on his way to jail. He shook his head and tried offering his reason. “I was just try’na get this money up for Krazy’s lawyer, Bo. I swear it wasn’t to try and get over on you.”
“Nigga, save that weak-ass shit, ’cause you been pitchin’ yo’ own shit. But just like anything else that you do in the dark, it’ll always come to light. What? You thought I wasn’t gon’ find out you been buying shit off Fat Mike?”
Wink’s face tightened up in shock.
“Yeah, I know all about you buying his rocks, then cutting them in half and mixing ’em with mines. I just wanted to see how long you were going to continue thinking you had a brain. Your first mistake was even tryin’ some stupid shit like that, then the baggies you were using are different from mine’s. And plus, all this money you keep sending Mr. Hurston for Krazy. You had a plan. You just ain’t think it through. Just like your chess game.” J-Bo walked over to the chessboard. “Com’ere.”
“Remember when I asked you what piece you were on the board, and you said a pawn? You were never a pawn,” said J-Bo as he took all the pieces off the board. “You see that?” he said, placing his finger on one of the squares. “That’s what you were when you first came into the game, a square. A square represents the road or path all the players in the game use to get to where they wanna be, and that’s the top. When I first met you, you were a square because I could use you to further my cause, but somewhere along the lines, you became a pawn. You’re learning too fast, and I can’t use you anymore.”
“So, what you saying, Bo?”
“Wink, I’m not at all mad with you. You did what we all do in this game, and that’s try and get over. You just got caught. Pretty soon, I know you’re going to be great at this shit, and then I won’t be able to catch you. So, it’s best I cut ties now. See, Wink, in this game, just like in chess, the object is to keep everyone around you under you for as long as you can. You can’t win the game with two kings on the board.”
“So, you knew the whole time, huh?” asked Wink.
“Yep.”
“What about the twenty ounces? Can’t I at least get my money back?”
J-Bo put his hand on Wink’s shoulder and pulled back a wide smile. “That was the cost of your final lesson. Consider yourself lucky. Most pay with their life.” J-Bo picked up one of the pawns from the table and walked Wink to the door. He stopped to face Wink, then said, “I want you to always remember that it’s a cold game, but it’s fair. Here,” he said, handing Wink the black pawn. “It’s up to you if you become a king.”
Wink looked J-Bo in the eye and felt mixed emotions. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to leave the nest just yet, but he wasn’t about to show any signs of weakness. He held his head high and gave J-Bo a nod, then turned to leave.
J-Bo watched from the top step as Wink left the same way he found him—broke. That was Wink’s last lesson, and it cost him everything he had and some.
Wink took the walk of shame down Linwood with his hands stuffed deep inside the empty
pockets of his jeans. Damn, ten G’s, he thought. That was a hard pill to swallow. The only thing J-Bo left Wink with was the game he picked up along the way.
“What the fuck am I gon’ do now?” The thought of Krazy being stuck in jail ran through Wink’s mind. Shit just couldn’t get any worse.
Wink flagged a yellow Checker Cab once he reached Dexter. The Arab driver promptly asked for a deposit. Wink tried telling the man he’d pay him once they got to the east side.
“No money, me no drive you. Out!”
Wink felt like shit on a stick. He reluctantly climbed out the cab and watched the cab skirt off in pursuit of someone who had money in hand. Wink looked at the pay phone next to the bus stop and thought to call his mom, but he shook that thought away. He wasn’t going to give her and Gary the satisfaction of seeing him down on his knees so they could scold him with a bunch of dumb-ass I-told-you-so’s. He tried calling Trey and Willie at the cleaner’s, but their line didn’t accept collect calls. As he slammed the phone back on the hook, J-Bo bent the corner in his red Porsche. He looked at Wink, hit his horn, and kept it moving.
Wink sucked it up and put one foot in front of the other. It was a long walk to the east side, but Wink figured he could use the time to get his plans together. ’Cause one thing for certain, he wasn’t about to give in or give out.
Chapter Fifteen
When Wink finally made it back to the east side, he was drained, his feet blistered, his shirt clung to his back from sweat, and he had a pounding headache. He had thought of every possible way he could to make some money, but Wink couldn’t come up with anything. He couldn’t get past the ten thousand dollar loss, but he knew he had to do something, and fast.
J-Bo had already beat Wink to the cleaner’s. He did the honors of stripping Trey and Willie of all their side cash as well as his, then sent them on foot just like he did Wink. Wink found them at Trey’s house down in the basement, eating some of Ms. Shelton’s good home cooking. Trey’s mom was so happy her baby was alive and home that she cooked him a full meal with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn bread, greens, and a tall pitcher of her famous kiwi-strawberry Kool-Aid. She would cuss him out later.
Ms. Shelton came down the basement to check on Trey and Willie and see if they needed anything else. She stopped in her tracks, put her hands on her hips, then grunted in Wink’s direction. She never did like Wink. Ever since he and Trey started hanging out, Ms. Shelton would always toot her nose up at the sight of Wink. She called him the son of Satan. Ms. Shelton always blamed Wink every time Trey got in trouble.
“What is he doing in my house?” she said.
“Ma, can you please not start.”
“Do your mom know you’re over here? She’s been lookin’ for you.” She frowned at Wink.
“I’ma call her in a minute,” Wink said from the love seat. The feeling was mutual; he couldn’t stand her either.
Ms. Shelton rolled her eyes and turned on her heels.
“Don’t mind her, my nigga,” said Trey.
“I never do.”
“What happened with J-Bo? How the nigga find out?” asked Willie.
“The bitch nigga Fat Mike sold me out. And he set me up with some pretty nigga name Tony Long Loot. He sold me twenty ounces of gank.”
“Word. How much he get you for?” asked Trey.
“You don’t wanna know.” Wink put his hands to his face and wiped the invisible pain away.
“How much, Wink?” Trey said.
Wink closed his eyes and said, “Everything.”
“The whole ten G’s?” Willie dropped his fork. He pushed back from the table and stood up.
“Wink, tell me you didn’t let that fat fuck clip you for the whole stash,” Trey stood beside Willie. They both looked down at Wink while he rubbed his temples.
“When I say everything, I mean every cent. I didn’t even have bus fare. I walked all the way home.”
“This some bullshit!” Willie yelled. “How the fuck we keep starting from the bottom? We might as well throw in the towel.”
“That’s what we’re not going to do. Krazy’s still in jail, remember.” Wink stood up and began pacing.
“So, what are we going to do?” asked Trey.
“I say we put J-Bo tiny ass in the trunk and make ’im take us to the money. I know his bitch ass holdin’,” said Willie.
“I’m with that,” Trey said.
“Slow down, gun slinger. Ain’t no sense in diggin’ ourselves no deeper hole than the one we’re already in.” Wink paced.
“You act like J-Bo can’t be touched. His ass ain’t the Mob. He ain’t untouchable,” snapped Trey.
Wink stopped dead in his face, chest to chest, and stared Trey in the eyes. “You ready to kill J-Bo? ’Cause that’s what we gon’ have to do if we go barking. Hell nah, he ain’t the Mob, but his hand is way stronger than ours. He knows where yo’ moms lay her head at. Willie, you too, and me. This shit ain’t no game out here, so unless y’all talkin’ ’bout slumpin’ his ass, miss me with that shit.”
Wink looked from Trey to Willie. Just like he thought, they was just talking. He went back to pacing the floor and trying to come up with something. He had shot down their feeble idea, and yet he hadn’t offered another solution.
Wink stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of his mom’s voice. She was talking to Ms. Shelton.
“Damn, why yo’ momma can’t never mind her business?” said Wink. He knew Ms. Shelton went and called Hope. She would do anything to get his demonic self out of her house.
“Wayne, are you down here?” Hope asked as she made her way down the basement. She stopped at the bottom step and put her hands to her face. Tears quickly welled in her eyes.
“Y’all g’on upstairs and let Wayne talk to his mother.” Ms. Shelton shooed Trey and Willie up. She patted Hope on the back while looking at Wink with a you-oughta-be-shamed look. “It’s going to be all right, Hope.”
Wink was burning up inside. Damn, he hated Trey’s nosey-ass momma. He wanted to blame something or someone other than himself. He needed to focus on anything other than the beautiful woman standing before him with tears streaming down her face.
“Come here, Wayne.” Hope sniffled. She opened her arms and started for her son.
Wink met his mom halfway, and they embraced. He couldn’t help but feel bad for having his mom worried sick. She didn’t even look her normal self. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
“Oh my God, Wayne. I thought you were dead.” Hope squeezed Wink tight and continued to rub the back of his head while her tears soaked his shoulder.
“I’m okay, Mom. I’m okay.”
“Step back and let me look at you,” Hope said, wiping tears from her face. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. What, you weren’t eatin’?”
“Yeah, I been eatin’. It just wasn’t your good cookin’.”
Hope managed a smile. She continued to look her son over. “Wayne, I wish you would leave them streets to their keeper and come on home. Home is where you belong, baby.”
“You put me out, remember?”
“I know, and that was the worst decision I ever made in my entire life, and I’m sorry. I should’ve never kicked you to the streets.”
Wink dropped his eyes to the floor. “What about Gary?”
“He’s my man, but you’ll always be my son, Wayne. I won’t let him come between us ever again. I promise. Just come home with me so I can get you out of these clothes and put some food in you.”
“Ma, I’m not a child anymore. I need to know you won’t be on my back about going to college or working if I come home.”
“So, what are you going to do? Huh, Wayne? You’ve been gone for three months and you’re wearing the same clothes you left in. What’s the reason you want to be out there so damn bad for?”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about right there. Ma, I love you, but I gotta live my life, and this is what I’m going to be doing.”
“You�
�re hardheaded just like your father, and you see where it got him. Two life sentences.”
“I’m not him, and he ain’t never been my father,” Wink said heatedly. He hated even thinking about the nigga his mom kept referring to as his father. Wayne, Sr. ain’t never did shit for Wink except go half on a baby with his moms.
“I’m sorry.” Hope knew how much Wink disliked his father. “Just come home, Wayne, and I’ll try to give you your space. I just really need you home.”
Wink thought about it for a second and saw the hurt in his mother’s eyes. She didn’t deserve this, Wink told himself. He reached for Hope’s hand and kissed the back of it.
“Let’s go home,” said Hope as she started for the steps.
Trey was waiting on Wink at the top of the steps and followed them out to the car. Wink waited until his mom got in the car and shut the door.
“I hope you not checkin’ out on me,” Wink said.
“Wink, you tell me what our next move is gon’ be, and I’ll be right there beside you.”
“For Krazy.” He gave Trey a pound. “Tomorrow,” he said, then climbed in the car.
When Wink got home, it just didn’t feel the same. He felt like a total failure, a little boy running home, scared of the cold world. He felt like coming back home was accepting defeat. His mom scurried to the bathroom and started his bath, set some new clothes out for him, then it was off to the kitchen, where she prepared his favorite meal, smothered pork chops.
When Wink finished showering, his food awaited him in the oven. His appetite was instantly spoiled at the sight of Gary’s sucka-lame ass sitting bare-chested at the kitchen table, reading the paper.
Wink had a joke he wanted to ask Gary. “What, you lookin’ for a job?” But he kept it to himself, figuring he didn’t want to start off negative. He wanted to be civil for his mom.
Hope sat across from Gary, her face lit up like a Christmas tree when she looked up from the crossword puzzle and saw Wink. “Come on and have a seat, baby.” She was smiling from ear to ear.
Wink looked at Gary, then said, “I’ma eat in my room, Ma.”
“Okay. There’s plenty down here if you want more,” Hope said.