by Carl Weber
“No, we’re not. We’re gonna die in here.”
“Look at me,” I told her.
It was too dark to see much more than shadows, but I could tell she lifted her head toward me. “We ain’t dying in here,” I said. “I may not be the one to get us the hell up out of here, but I got four boys out there looking for me—some smart boys who know how to handle shit like this. Trust me, they gonna come, and we gonna be fine.”
“But—”
“No buts. I know my boys. They ain’t gonna rest until they find their momma. Trust me.”
In my heart, I knew what I was saying was true. I knew that Lou, Larry, LC, and even Levi would search the entire world looking for me. But, I wondered if they even realized that I was still alive, because if they thought otherwise, then Lisa maybe right, and there was a chance that we were going to die.
Shirley
22
“What’s up, girl? How’re things going?”
I was in the middle of my own personal pity party over Nee Nee and Larry getting married when Li’l Momma came over and sat beside me at the bar. She was a pretty girl who was one of the best whores we had, along with being one of my oldest friends. I’d known her ever since she started working for Big Sam about eight years ago.
“I’m fine. And don’t come over here ‘Hey, girl-ing’ me. What do you want?” I knew Li’l Momma well enough to know that she didn’t care how things were going. All she cared about was making her quota and having enough money to send back home to her five kids and her momma.
“Why you gotta be like that, Shirley? I can’t take a few minutes and chat with the lady of the house to see how she’s doing?” Li’l Momma asked.
I stared at her, dressed in a red silk robe tied at the waist, with red kitten heels on her feet. Her real hair was covered by a not-so-expensive wig, and she wore too much makeup. She always had, mainly because she wanted to look older. That made sense when she was seventeen, but I didn’t understand why she still did it. As far as most of the men that frequented this establishment were concerned, as long as you were cute and were able to suck and fuck, it didn’t matter how old you were.
“Like I already told you, I’m fine. Now, what is it that you want?” I asked again.
“Shit, I’m worried about you, Shirley, and so are the other girls. You’ve been in a real mood these past few weeks. I wanna know what’s wrong.” She stared at me long enough for me to figure out that she was serious.
“This place. That’s what’s wrong.” I shook my head.
“But why?” she asked. “Business around here has been good. We got plenty of customers, and they been paying left and right. I heard Lou say we ran outta liquor Saturday night and that it was a good problem to have.” There was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the bar, and she picked it up, taking one out for herself and passing one to me.
“No, thanks.” I shook my head. I hadn’t given up drinking completely since I got pregnant, but I had stopped smoking. Chippy told me she’d read something in a magazine about it being bad for the baby. Luckily, Li’l Momma didn’t seem to think anything of me not smoking, because I wasn’t really sharing the news with anyone yet.
I watched her light her cigarette as I asked her, “You ever think about what you gonna do when this is over? When our asses is just too old to hoe? When you gotta go home and face those five babies your momma raised, instead of you?”
Li’l Momma shrugged and took a long drag. “More times than I wanna talk about. I guess in a way that’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Mm-hmm. I knew you was up to something,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“No, we really are worried about you. You got everyone walking on eggshells around here when you come in the room. You’ve been so mean lately, it’s almost like working for Big Sam all over again.” She paused for a second, I guess waiting to see if I was going to bite her head off for comparing me to Sam, but I kept it cool. I couldn’t deny I’d been in a pretty foul mood most days. She looked relieved as she continued. “But we all know your family is going through a lot with Miss Bettie passing and everything. We understand.”
“Whatever,” I shot back. I wasn’t about to get sentimental with her. After all, I was still the boss, and it would never be a good idea to show weakness around my girls. “You bitches is lazy, and I’m not putting up with it anymore. Shit, maybe Sam knew what he was talking about. Give a ho an inch and she want to take a mile.”
She leaned back and scrunched up her face as if I’d hurt her feelings, which I really didn’t care about.
“Now, what do you really want?”
She finally got to the point she’d been dancing around. “Well, you know my customer David? The one who comes down from Savannah to see me?”
“David? Can’t say I do.” Li’l Momma had so many damn regulars that it was hard to keep up. Men couldn’t get enough of her short, petite ass.
“Nice-looking guy, always dressed in a suit and tie. He works as the bank manager up there,” Li’l Momma chirped. “Got a little bit of a belly.”
“Oh, him.” I remembered who she was talking about. “What about him?”
“He’s taking me on vacation. To the Bahamas.” She was beaming with pride.
“Vacation?” I frowned. “Is he paying you for this vacation?”
“He’s paying a lot of money for this trip. I figured that was enough,” Li’l Momma confessed.
Going on vacation with a customer was not something I allowed or encouraged. It caused too much confusion, and the last thing I wanted in Big Shirley’s was confusion over one of my girls.
“Li’l Momma, you a whore, and that nigga ain’t taking you on no damn vacation. You sound stupid. He’s just trying to get you away from here so he can get some free pussy, that’s all. The only place he’s taking you is probably to some cheap-ass hotel on the other side of Savannah. You’ve been a whore long enough to know that.” I shook my head at the poor, naive girl.
“I know that David likes me. He more than likes me. And I like him,” Li’l Momma huffed as she stabbed the cigarette out in the ashtray.
“You know how ridiculous you sound? The reason that man comes all the way from Savannah to see you is probably so his wife or his girlfriend won’t find out. You’re his whore, not his woman.”
“You’re wrong, Shirley. I’ll be right back.” She got up and headed off upstairs, where her room was.
I sat there and tried not to laugh. I didn’t know what sounded crazier: the fact that this man was telling her that he was taking her on an island vacation, or the fact that she believed him. Li’l Momma had been in the game long enough to know better, but I guess some of these girls never learned.
She returned a few minutes later, holding out an envelope.
“Here.”
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it. Read it.”
I took out the content. Sure enough, there was a set of airline tickets and another folded piece of paper with hotel reservations.
I looked at her and shook my head in pity for her foolishness. “Girl, I don’t know what this man’s planning, but these here tickets are for someone named Christina Caldwell. For all you know that’s his wife’s name.”
She had the nerve to laugh out loud at me. “That’s me! Christina Caldwell is my real name.” Li’l Momma folded her arms. “And this is gonna be the first trip of many. I might even let him marry me.”
“Now you really sound crazy.” I put the tickets and the paper back in the envelope and passed it to her. “Does he know about all them children you got?”
“Yes, he does.” She stared back at me defiantly. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I can get a man who actually cares about me? Chippy got LC. I thought you’d be happy for me, Shirley.”
“Why the hell does everyone think they can be just like Chippy?” I yelled so loud that other people in the room stopped and stared at me. I didn’t care. I was sick and tired of hearing about
Chippy and everything she had. It was as if she had all of a sudden become some hero or poster child for working girls who wanted to reform.
“Calm down, Shirley. I didn’t say I wanted to be like Chippy. And why you so mad? You got Levi.”
“Have you taken a good look at Levi lately? He’s not exactly man of the year.” I caught myself just as those bitter words slipped out of my mouth. “You know what? Take the damn week off. Hell, take the whole damn month if you want.” I jumped off the barstool and stormed to my private office in the back of the house. I slammed the door behind me, startling Levi, who was sitting on the bed looking at a wildlife magazine. I had forgotten that his ass was even there.
“Sh–Sh–Sh–Sh–Shirley?”
“Yes, Levi?” I said, flopping into the chair behind my desk.
“I love you.” He smiled at me.
I looked over at him and my heart swelled. Li’l Momma was right. I did have a man who loved me. Even with the scars on my face and the darkness of my past, Levi loved him some Shirley, and I loved him. But I couldn’t lie; I wanted more.
“I love you too, Levi. Baby, you know what I was thinking?” I got up and sat beside him. “Why don’t we get married before the baby is born? We can have the ceremony at the little church down the block; then we can go to New York or Washington, D.C. We can even go to a famous zoo and see some of these foreign animals you like looking at in these magazines. You can see them for yourself. How does that sound? You want to do that?”
“I want some pu–pu–pussy!”
“You always want pussy, Levi.”
“Sh–Sh–Shirley, I–I love y–y–your p–p–pussy.” He tried to pull me closer, but I leaned away from him. He reached for me again. “I–I–I–I w–w–want some p–p–p–pussy!” he said more forcefully.
“And I want a man who can take me out to eat and talk to me. Maybe get down on one knee and propose,” I said with a sigh.
Levi looked at me with confusion, and I immediately felt bad for saying out loud what I had been thinking.
“Well, I guess one of us can get what we want.”
A grin spread over Levi’s face as I stood up and began undressing. He wasted no time taking off his clothes and pulling out the sofa bed. I glanced at the discarded magazine on the floor and thought about Chippy and all the places she and LC had gone in the past few years, and Nee Nee and Larry and their fancy new house in Atlanta. And now, here was Li’l Momma, who was headed to the Bahamas and planning her own future. I was starting to wonder if running a brothel and being the girlfriend of a man who didn’t even have enough sense to understand marriage, let alone propose, would be all that life had in store for me.
LC
23
“Thirteen! Can you beat thirteen?” Larry shouted, dropping his cards on the pile of money in front of us. Mr. Mahogany, his right-hand man James, and I threw our cards down in disgust. Major Gary Holmes from the Council, however, lifted his hand, causing us all to take pause as he counted the points on his cards.
“Damn.” Holmes threw his cards down on the pile of money in defeat. “I had fifteen.”
“Thank you for the donations, gentlemen.” Larry leaned across the table to rake in his winnings. “Hey, Nee! We just might be getting that living room set you wanted.”
“Do your thing, baby,” Nee Nee shouted across the yard from over by the grill.
Since Larry and Nee Nee had gone and gotten married on a whim, I’d invited some family and friends over to the new house for a small barbecue reception. The guys had been sitting around a folding table near the pool, laughing, talking shit, and playing cards, while the women congregated around the grill and picnic table, drinking mimosas and watching the kids.
“Just deal the damn cards,” Holmes said, lifting a beer to his lips. “I swear, LC, if this motherfucker wasn’t your brother, I’d shoot his ass. ’Cause nobody’s this damn lucky.”
“That’s because it’s not luck; it’s skill. I’m like that Wolverine dude in the comic books: the best there is at what I do.” Larry laughed at his own joke.
“Speaking of what you do, Larry, how are things with your trucking company?” Mr. Mahogany’s eyes never left Larry as he shuffled the cards methodically.
“Things are good. I think I’ve found my calling,” Larry replied pridefully as Mr. Mahogany began to deal the cards.
“Good, good.” Even as he passed the cards around, Mr. Mahogany’s eyes never left Larry’s face. I’d seen that look from him before, and that made me nervous. Larry wasn’t the type to be tested. “Forgive me for being blunt, but do you have room for expansion, or are you going to remain a Mickey Mouse operation?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Larry glanced over his cards, locking eyes with my new mentor.
I could see James fidgeting in his chair. He knew this whole thing could explode at any time too. Larry was so unpredictable. He could fly off the handle for the smallest of things. I shifted my chair just in case Larry decided to leap over the table and I had to intervene.
“It means exactly what I said. Do you plan on being a small-time black-owned car transporter, or are you ready to become a big-time trucking outfit? If you’re trying to reach the big time, I can help you become the black king of trucking.”
Larry took a moment before he spoke. “Unlike my brother, I’m not looking for any partners that don’t have the last name Duncan.”
Mr. Mahogany wasn’t fazed by the brush-off. “I think I know how the Duncans operate,” he said. “So what about you give me a five percent commission on any business I bring your way in lieu of any type of partnership?”
Again, Larry took some time to think before responding. “Okay, let’s say I accept your help. How exactly are you going to help me expand my business?” He looked down at his cards and then dropped them.
Mahogany wrapped his arm around Holmes. “Major Holmes here is in need of transport of some very important cargo, and he needs a reliable shipper to get it up to the Northeast without a bill of lading.”
As he always was when it came to Mr. Mahogany, Larry looked skeptical. He glanced over at me. “You know anything about this?”
“Know anything about it? It was his idea,” Mr. Mahogany replied pridefully.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Larry delivered his response forcefully. It wasn’t disrespectful, but it wasn’t exactly deferential either. Thankfully, Mr. Mahogany took it in stride, because although my brother was a true bad-ass, this was not Waycross, and he had no idea of the hierarchy up here in Atlanta.
“What’s he talking about, little brother?” Larry asked me.
“Mr. Mahogany was telling me about the problem several of his associates were having transporting goods around the country. I mentioned how well you were doing with the trucking company and how you solved my shipping problem. The more we talked about it, the more we came to the conclusion that you were the type of person who would use discretion in moving their goods.”
“It’s very important to my people that they work with someone who can be discreet,” Mahogany added.
“Discretion, discreet, that’s all code for illegal, isn’t it?” Larry chuckled, shaking his head.
Mr. Mahogany glanced in my direction. This was either going to be really good or really bad. I shot Larry a look, hoping he understood that I was telling him to cool out and treat this man with a little more respect.
“So, what’s the cargo?” Larry asked.
“The beauty of my cargo is that you only have to make two trips a month,” Major Holmes interjected.
“All I’m hearing is you beating around the bush. What’s the cargo?” Larry studied him for a second then answered his own question. “You want me to move guns. Why else would a military man want something shipped?”
“Okay, let’s say it is guns this first trip. Do you have problem with that?” Mr. Mahogany set down his cards.
Larry leaned forward and stared at Mr. Mahogany. “I guess that all d
epends on how much money we’re talking about. Moving guns is risky business. The state police are searching box trucks and tractor trailers at weigh stations up and down the Interstates all the time.”
“Yeah, bro, but are they searching the cars on car carriers?” I asked.
Larry thought about it, but only for a second. “They pretty much let us go right through once they check the make and model of the cars against the bill of lading.”
Mr. Mahogany and I shared a knowing glance as I continued to explain my idea to my brother. “So, what if we load the guns in the trunks of high-mileage trade-ins headed to auction up in New York and Pennsylvania? Things should go through without a hitch, don’t you think?”
I could tell from his expression that Larry was intrigued, but he wasn’t ready to sign on just yet. “It sounds good, but what if me or one of my guys get pinched?” he asked.
We had anticipated this question, and Mr. Mahogany was ready with an answer.
“We supply you with the best lawyers money can buy, bail money, and a thousand dollars a day for every day you’re incarcerated. It’s in the client’s best interests that you don’t get pinched.”
“We’d only do it two times a month. We’re not trying to draw anyone’s attention,” Major Holmes added.
“Son of a bitch, you really thought this thing through, didn’t you?” Larry grinned at me.
“Your brother is one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.” Mr. Mahogany patted me on the back. “He’s going to lead us all one day.”
“Yeah, well, my momma always said he was the smart one.”
“So, do we have a deal?” Holmes asked.
“Well, that kinda depends on how much money we’re talking about. I’ve got a lot to lose shipping those heaters up Ninety-five, so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”
“How’s twelve grand a month sound?” Major Holmes asked.
Larry glanced at me then broke into a wide grin. “When do we start?”
Chippy
24
“Chippy, everything is so nice. This is wonderful.” Mr. Mahogany’s wife, Belinda, walked over to the table where I was sitting with Nee Nee, Shirley, and a couple of family members from Waycross. She’d just made a plate and was nibbling on a rib. I had to give her credit: she was one elegant older woman, even with a rib bone in her hand. I liked her because she had a presence about her that said, “Yes, I’m a lady, but I’m not to be fucked with. This is your last and final warning.” Bad to the bone.