The Good Life

by Dorian Sykes

  “You forgot a pile,” said Wink.

  Trey looked down at the bed. “Nah, there’s three piles,” he said.

  “Exactly. It should be four. Remember Krazy, our nigga, the one doing twenty-five clocks? He’s still crew, and he still needs us.” Wink led by example and started making a fourth pile for Krazy out of his own money.

  Trey hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t want to seem petty or selfish. He and Willie followed suit, taking money from both their piles. When they finished, they each had about $212,000, the way it was supposed to be. Wink wrapped his money along with Krazy’s into one of the Coney Island bags, then stuffed it inside his duffle bag.

  “I’ma use this money to pay for Krazy’s appeal, and the rest I’ma send it to him as he needs it, so he should be straight,” said Wink.

  “You think he got a chance at getting back?” asked Willie.

  “Time will tell. But in the meantime, I’ma hold ’im down.” Wink knew he had to be the one to handle all Krazy’s affairs because Trey and Willie didn’t understand being in the land of the forgotten. They would soon forget about Krazy, maybe in a year or a couple of years. But one thing for certain, they were going to forget. Wink’s dad told him all about the meaning of loyalty. He said that it’s not mandatory like the air we breathe, but it’s expected of real men. He said that loyalty goes beyond not snitching. It’s about wanting for your brother what you want for yourself. He said never to expect loyalty, because only a few men understand its depth.

  Wink watched Trey stuff money into every pocket he had. He crammed his sleeves, shoes, and socks with bills, then rushed to the table for the other Coney Island bag. He wrapped the money up and shoved it down into his briefs. The nigga looked like he had just gained his independence. And Willie was no better. He did the same thing.

  Wink laughed at the thought, They’ll be broke in two weeks. Then it would be back to the drawing board. Wink expected they’d come running back to him, admitting their foolish mistake of taking their money out the pot. Of course, he would then turn them away and see them fucked up. But maybe they all needed this experience to distinguish clearly who the leader was.

  When they left out the room, it was almost midnight. Wink could see Armeeah’s silhouette from the parking lot. She was standing at the drive-thru window. Wink remembered her every curve. He smiled, then closed the trunk. He doubted if she would call.

  Wink dropped Trey and Willie off in the hood. He could tell they both had big plans to burn the mall up in the morning. That’s right. Spend, spend, and spend till it ain’t no more, Wink thought as he pulled in front of Trey’s momma’s house. He reached out his hand for a play, which Trey gladly accepted.

  “Why don’t you come to the Brass Key with us?” asked Trey. He and Willie were going to look at some titties at this new strip club on the west side.

  “Nah, I’m tired. Plus, I got some shit to do in the morning,” lied Wink. He hadn’t a thing to do, at least not for a couple of days. He just didn’t feel like looking at his niggas. They really fucked up his day with the greedy shit they were on.

  Trey and Willie climbed out the car, and they all knew that shit was sour.

  “I’ma fuck with y’all in the a.m.,” said Wink.

  “A’ight, my nigga,” said Willie, and then Trey.

  Wink pushed off in his Caddy. Usually, he’d at least wait until they made it in the house, but today, it was fuck them. They were being selfish. Maybe they all were, but Wink justified his selfishness by being the one to make shit happen. If it weren’t for him, Trey would still be driving around in his momma’s Honda with that played-out flat top on his head, looking for a house party him and Willie could crash so they could do their latest break dance routine. Instead, they both were slamming Cadillac doors with damn near a quarter mill to the good. Wink had done everything he said he would. He figured niggas just needed to bump their head a few times.

  The next morning, Wink woke up to the familiar smell of bacon and eggs. The aroma drifted upstairs and through his nostrils. He rolled onto his back and smiled, not because his mom was down in the kitchen, putting it together, but because he knew Gary was perched in his seat, looking at the morning paper. Wink had sneaked in his mom’s house at one o’clock in the morning. He was careful not to wake his mom or Gary. He tip-toed upstairs and climbed into bed. Morning would be the perfect time to stank Gary’s ass. If he hurried, Wink could catch the trash crew with Gary’s body.

  Wink rolled out of bed. He tucked the .38 he took last night from Gary’s glove box into his waist, then reached for the manila envelope on the dresser. Wink had played it out step by step in his mind a million times how he would kill Gary. It had to be memorable, life-lasting, like his father’s sentence. Wink decided killing Gary after he ate his last meal would be some classic Mob shit.

  Wink found his mom seated across from her husband-to-be. She was sipping coffee while doing her ritual morning crossword puzzle.

  “Hey, baby!” Hope said excitedly as she leaped from her chair and rushed over to hug and kiss her son.

  “Where have you been? No, never mind that. You come on and have a seat and let me fix you a plate.”

  “Good morning, Ma.” Wink gave his mom a peck on the cheek, then she scurried to fix his plate.

  “Gary, what’s up? You looking all down.” Wink took his mom’s seat.

  “He ain’t been doing too well, baby. Somebody killed his best friend,” Hope said from the stove.

  “They found Fatts shot to death at his store the other day. His wake is today,” said Gary.

  Wink could hear the hurt in his voice, and from the redness embedded in his eyes, it appeared he’d been crying.

  “They didn’t have to kill him,” said Gary. He was staring at a picture of Fatts in the Detroit Free Press. They had a picture of the hardware store and a column, but Wink couldn’t care less. He knew the details.

  “Who would want to kill Fatts?” asked Wink.

  “Nobody. He ain’t never done nothing to hurt no one. All he did was sit at that store all day, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was somewhere helping somebody.”

  Wink thought, Yeah, right. That nigga deserved to die. He was a rat just like yo’ ass.

  “Here you go, baby.” Hope set Wink’s plate in front of him. She stood with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. She loved cooking, but she enjoyed watching men eat her cooking even more.

  “What’s this envelope, Wayne?” she asked. She pointed to the manila envelope sitting beside her coffee.

  “It’s for Gary,” said Wink. He pushed the envelope across the table and watched as Gary frowned down at the envelope.

  “I need something to drink.” Wink scooted back in his chair, then stood up and walked to the fridge. He pretended to be looking for something to drink, but he was really watching Gary as he pulled the papers from the envelope. His mom was standing over Gary’s shoulder, being nosey.

  Gary’s forehead formed into a million lines. He quickly lowered the papers and said, “Where’d you get... these?” His words slowed down at the sight of Wink pointing his chrome .38 Special dead on him.

  “Your best friend gave ’em to me,” said Wink.

  “Why would Fatts give you these?”

  “Wayne, baby, please put the gun down,” pleaded Hope. She tried to take a step toward Wink, but he cocked the hammer and shifted his aim at her.

  “Back up and stand by your man,” ordered Wink.

  “You killed Fatts, didn’t you?” asked Gary.

  “Yeah, just like you and that fat bastard killed my dad when y’all took the stand on him.”

  “Wayne, I can explain,” said Hope. She had her hands to her face and tears in her eyes.

  “Explain what? How can you explain what y’all did?” Wink pointed the gun back at Gary’s chest and waited for that look of fear in Gary’s eyes that he needed to see before killing him.

  “Yeah, I did it.” Gary let his nuts hang. “Ask me if I
’d do it again, and the answer is yes. Your daddy made his own bed. Now he’s got to lay in it.”

  Boom! Wink shot Gary in the shoulder and watched as he spun out of his chair, down to the floor. Hope was crying and begging Wink not to kill him.

  “What you gon’ do, kill me? Go ahead. I done lived my life,” said Gary. He managed to prop himself up against the kitchen wall.

  “Wayne, please put the gun down. Please,” pleaded Hope.

  Wink stood over Gary, looking into his eyes. He didn’t see a hint of fear. Rat bastard shoulda had the same heart instead of snitching on his partner. The thought made Wink flash.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! He was so angry, he was throwing them shits at Gary. His body slumped over to the floor, making a dead thump upon impact. Blood and brains smeared down the wall onto the kitchen floor.

  Hope was down on her knees, cradling Gary’s lifeless body. His blood soaked her entire nightgown and her hands. Her mouth was wide open, but the screams wouldn’t come out. “Why?” she managed to ask.

  Wink squatted beside her, still clutching the .38. He got in his mom’s ear and spoke in a possessed voice. “You shoulda asked this dead rat why. Why he gave my father two life sentences? Why his life for his? What you need to do is ask yourself why. Why would you stay with a man who testified against your son’s father? Or better yet, why would you agree to marry him?”

  Wink stood up and enjoyed the only satisfaction he was going to get, the sight of his mother crying and grieving over Gary’s dead body. It was her punishment, seeing as though he could lay her ass out beside Gary. Wink purposely killed Gary in front of his mom. He wanted her to see it, so she’d have to live yet another dark secret.

  “What are you going to do, turn me in?” Wink asked, taunting his mother. He took his seat at the table and finished eating his food, showing complete disdain for the dead rat sprawled out in a pool of blood. Things between Wink and his mom would never be the same again. He just wanted to hate her forever until she died. That was the only way to make things right.

  Chapter Thirty

  Wink stretched across the sofa in the living room of his apartment. He stared at the lone picture frame mounted on the wall. It was a picture of him and his mom on his prom night. Wink felt nothing. No remorse, sorrow, nothing. She deserved a lot worse, he told himself.

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  Wink’s pager broke his train of thought as it lit up on the table beside him. Wink reached for the cordless phone and held the pager up. He didn’t recognize the 248 area code. Detroit was 313. He called the number back and lay back across the sofa while the phone rang.

  “Hello,” answered the voice of a woman.

  “Somebody page a pager?”

  “Yes. May I speak to... Wink, is it?”

  Wink sat up after recognizing the voice. It belonged to the pretty Arab woman from the Coney Island.

  “This is Wink. Armeeah, right?”

  “Yes. How are you?”

  “I’m doing all right. Was just laying around the house.”

  “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  “Nah, you’re okay. I’m actually glad you called. I was beginning to think you weren’t.”

  “No. It’s just my parents. They’re very strict on me and my sisters. They keep an eye on us.”

  “Yeah, I saw the way the old man kept watching you the other day.”

  Armeeah laughed. “That’s my father. I’m the baby, so he’s really watchful of me.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “At home, in my room.”

  “You sound bored.”

  “I am. There’s nothing to do on my days off besides sit in the house and watch TV.”

  “Let me take you to lunch and maybe a movie.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s wrong? You afraid to be alone with me?”

  “It’s not that. It’s my father. He’s going to wonder where I’m at.”

  “We’ll skip the movie and just do lunch. I just want to see those beautiful eyes again. Come on. What do you say?”

  “Where are we going, so I can meet you there?”

  “There’s a Red Lobster on Hoover and 10 Mile Rd. Meet me there in about a half hour.”

  “I will be there.”

  “Okay. Bye.” Wink stood up from the sofa and walked into the bathroom to start a shower. Hearing Armeeah’s soft, innocent voice had made his day. Having to sneak and meet her seemed a little weird and elementary, but thinking back to her flawless frame and long black hair, she was most definitely worth the hassle and then some. She had the ability to bring a smile to a dead man’s face. She was so beautiful.

  Wink showered while thinking about her—what she liked, disliked, what made her smile. Wink had forgotten all about his mom, who was somewhere, probably over his aunt’s house, still crying and grieving. Wink had already made his mind up regarding his mom’s side of the family. He wasn’t messing with none of them on no level, because as far as he was concerned, they all knew the deal with Gary snitching on his father, and for all those years, they helped keep Hope’s secret.

  Wink dried off, then sprayed some Joop cologne on. He walked into his room and into the closet, looking for something to wear. He grabbed a brand-new Ralph Lauren Polo outfit and a crispy pair of Gucci gym shoes. All the clothes Wink had been buying, he wasn’t even wearing them because he hadn’t the reason to jump fresh. Lately, it had been all business. Wink couldn’t even remember the last time he took a girl out. All the chicken heads in the hood didn’t appeal to him anymore. They all had too much shit with themselves and a lot of mileage.

  Wink dusted the invisible dust from the shoulder of the cocaine-white Polo shirt he was rockin’. He turned to the side and looked down at his shoes, then at the entire outfit. He walked away from the mirror over to the dresser and contemplated wearing his bracelet.

  Nah, that’ll be doing too much, he told himself. Wink wanted to impress Armeeah, but at the same time, he didn’t want to come off as being phony or trying too hard. He grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter and was out the door.

  Armeeah beat Wink to Red Lobster’s. She was seated near the entrance at a booth for two. She waved him to come over. She stood and greeted Wink with that inviting smile of hers.

  “I’m sorry. Am I late?” asked Wink.

  “No, I got here a little early. My house is only minutes away.”

  “You look amazing.” Wink looked Armeeah over from head to toe. She wore skin-tight jeans, some type of loose but sexy sweater, and some designer boots. To Wink’s surprise, the girl had style like a sista.

  “Thank you. You’re casual and comfortable. Let’s have a seat,” said Armeeah. She slid into her side of the booth and swished her long black hair over her shoulder.

  Wink was absolutely mesmerized by her beauty. He had his share of bad chicks, but Armeeah was on another lever bad. She resembled the Disney cartoon character Pocahontas.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Armeeah blushed.

  “Because I didn’t know you were this beautiful.”

  “Stop. You’re making me blush.”

  “I’m serious. I see why your dad keeps you in the house.”

  “Don’t mention him, please.”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “Yes. And then some.”

  The waitress interrupted. “Are you all ready to order?”

  Wink hadn’t looked at his menu. He was too busy lost in Armeeah’s beauty. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have the catfish platter, and whatever she’s having.”

  Armeeah ordered a shrimp platter and a chef salad.

  “Finish telling me about yourself,” said Wink.

  “Well, I’m a student at Wayne State University. I’m studying business management. My parents want to open more locations of Coney Island, and they want me and my sisters to run them.”

  “You don’t sound too excited about it. That’s what you want to do?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s wh
at my parents want me to do.”

  “And what do you want to do?”

  Armeeah sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I don’t know because I’ve never had a chance to think about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My family came to America in 1960 from Iraq, and they still follow our strict Muslim beliefs. Women don’t have a say or thought in what they want. So, I never thought about what it is I want because it doesn’t seem possible. I work all day, only to go to night school, and then home. It’s like my dad has planned everything for me before I even live it.”

  Wink listened to Armeeah as she vented, and he wished there was something he could do to help her. “What would happen if you didn’t want to, you know, open up more Coney Islands? What would your family do?”

  “Probably disown me, or consider me a kafir.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A kafir is a non-believer, one who’s on the wrong path of life.”

  “And what am I?”

  Armeeah smiled. “I don’t know. Are you a bad person?”

  Wink didn’t acknowledge her question because deep down, he knew the answer was yes. “I’ma ask you this. What would your parents think if they knew you were here with me?”

  “They’d kill me. I don’t know,” Armeeah said.

  “Is it because I’m black?”

  “Yes and no. They’d be upset because first, you’re not Muslim, and also because you’re not Arabic. We’re not a racist people. We just strongly encourage marriage for religious reasons. So, it wouldn’t matter if you were white. They’d still hate you.”

  Wink joined Armeeah in a laugh. Their food arrived, and they both dug in. Wink liked the fact that Armeeah wasn’t shy. Her being herself made it easy for him to relax.

  “So, you mean to tell me that every time I take you out, we’re going to have to sneak out?” asked Wink.

  “I think I’m worth it,” said Armeeah. She shot Wink a devilish grin and did that thing with her eyes.