by Chunichi
As I continued to drive, my brain was constantly plagued by this whole Calico situation, so I decided to give Detective Tarver a call.
“Tarver,” he answered on the first ring.
“Hi, this is Sasha Williams. I just worked out a deal with you on that case involving the shooting at Club Encore in Virginia Beach.”
“Hey, Sasha. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was wondering if Calico would be informed that I will be testifying, because I’m a little worried about my safety.”
“Well, we will inform him there is an eyewitness, but we won’t reveal who until the court proceedings. But you don’t have to worry. Once we get our hands on him, he will not be coming out, and until then, we will do all we can to make sure you’re protected. Don’t you worry.”
“Okay,” I said, still not feeling any more confident than I’d felt before the call. Actually, I felt worse.
I knew, after talking to the detective, there was no way I could go through with the deal we had negotiated. These days it was easier to beat the system than the streets. I could buck on court and be on the run and live to tell about it, as opposed to testifying against Calico and not even making it to court.
Now that I’d made my mind up that I wasn’t going to court to testify against Calico, nor my charge for that matter, I had to put an escape plan into play. I knew it was nothing to change my look, get a new driver’s license and relocate. I could easily go someplace like Jamaica and live with no problem. I knew a few people there. Plus, I would be in heaven, with so much Jamaican dick to choose from.
The only downfall would be leaving my family, baby daddy, and worst of all, my three- and seven-year-old sons, Malik and Jahad, whom I adored. I’m sure I could probably live without my sorry-ass drug-dealer-gone-bad baby daddy, Rick. Hell, he was part of the reason I had to resort to the streets.
I had actually stopped stripping at one point and was a working chick. I had a comfortable life, house, car, and even a rental property. Then this nigga’s drug game got fucked up, and he drained me of every penny, leaving me with two foreclosed homes. And soon I was back to stripping and living with my parents. It wasn’t until I bucked on Jewel for Calico’s one hundred grand that I was able to get back on my feet. So that nigga, I could definitely do without, but it was the thought of being away from my kids that was killing me. Deep inside, I knew it would be too risky to have them with me while on the run.
My plan was set. I just needed to execute. I still had about fifty grand left from Calico’s money that I’d tricked Jewel into giving me, but I needed about fifty more. I wanted to have at least a hundred grand cash when I dipped out of the country. It was time for me to get my hustle on, and by all means I intended to. My life depended on it.
I called up my boy Diablo. Originally from Virginia, Diablo used to run drugs hard in VA but had recently moved to Atlanta when shit got hot, after a few young boys that he used as runners got locked up and started snitching. Although I didn’t formally meet him until I started working at Bottoms Up, a strip club in Atlanta, I knew of him in VA because his name rang bells. And, of course, like every other baller, little miss Jewel used to date him too.
When Diablo hit the A, he started going even harder, making even more money, and eventually becoming one of the top suppliers in Atlanta. He used his drug money to open a club and started getting money from both angles.
“What up, sexy?” Diablo said.
“Hey, boo. I was calling to see if you were hiring,” I said, knowing Diablo would know exactly what I meant. I’d done some work for him before, so he knew I was game for whatever.
“Not right now, baby girl. I’m waiting on some family to come up from out of the country. They should be here in a couple of weeks. Check with me then.” Diablo spoke in code, saying that he was waiting for his product to come in.
“Cool,” I said then ended the call.
The plan was set and soon to be in motion. I just needed to stay alive until then. I planned to use those couple of free weeks to spend time with my boys and let them know how much their mommy loved them, especially since, at this point, tomorrow definitely wasn’t promised.
Chapter 9
“Nurse Save-a-chick”
Jewel
Touch had become more and more independent within the past weeks, so I was able to leave the house a little more often than when he first was discharged from the hospital. I was actually to the point of leaving him home alone. He enjoyed the independence of being left alone; it gave him a much-needed ego boost.
This particular day I’d chosen to take some time out for myself so I went to Starbucks. I was sitting in a booth there, sipping on a latte, using Starbucks WiFi Connection on my laptop to look up some different wedding sites, and getting ideas about our wedding. It wasn’t that we didn’t have the Internet service or a computer at home. In fact, we had several, including the new HP TouchSmart PC. But I wanted to surprise Touch with how I set off our big date, so I didn’t need him looking over my shoulders every minute while I was surfing the Web on our home computer.
I was planning on a major scale. I wanted a tailor-made Vera Wang dress, and a wedding setup to mimic a wedding of the royal court in England, with an aged mansion and horse and carriage to match. I’d even considered contacting David Tutera from the television show My Fair Wedding to guarantee that it would be a success. Our city wouldn’t expect anything less than a celebrity wedding. Hell, we’d already set the tone with our New Year’s party, so we had no choice but to continue the trend.
Although we hadn’t set a date yet, I wanted our wedding to be the biggest event niggas in VA had ever seen, the wedding that would be talked about forever. I could already see the looks on the faces of all the haters when they see us stroll down the aisle. Our wedding was going to be the hottest shit VA had ever seen. We were definitely going down in history.
Although I’d plan to have an invitation-only event with police as security because there was no way Touch or I could take a chance of a replay from New Year’s night, my guest list was already at five hundred. I was sure to invite all of the who’s who and keep out all of the “who’s you.” I was on some presidential shit. I was even checking out some of the pictures of Obama’s inauguration on the Internet, trying to get some additional ideas for entertainment, when I heard a familiar voice interrupt my concentration.
“Jewel, is that you? Hey, girl!”
I turned around in my booth and looked up from my laptop to see the nurse from the hospital, Misty. “Oh! Hey, Misty.”
“How’s your boo, Trayvon?” Misty used the same slang she’d used in the hospital the day we’d first met.
We both laughed, acknowledging that moment.
“He’s great! He’s walking without his walker now.”
“Wonderful!”
“Misty, I just want to thank you for your kindness to us both while we were in the hospital.” I reached out to shake her hand.
“That’s my job.” Misty flagged her hand in dismissal. “Damn, girl! Let me see that ring!” Seeing my unavoidable rock, she lifted my left hand. “Are you and Trayvon getting married?”
“Yes,” I said, a Kool-Aid smile across my face. “We’re engaged.”
“Congratulations! Dang, that rock is heavy. And that diamond’s almost blinding me. Whew! When’s the big date?”
Before I could answer, my mouth flew wide open, and I put my hand over my heart. I gasped. I had seen Calico walk by the coffee shop in the shopping mall. I had heard he’d skipped town, and probably went back to Cali, but I knew this thing wasn’t over between him and Touch. I was sure that was Calico, and I couldn’t take any chances of him seeing me, so I ducked my head down in the booth where I sat.
“What’s the matter?” Misty looked concerned.
“I think I just saw this dude, Calico.”
“Who’s Calico?”
“The guy who shot Touch.”
“Oh my God. He hasn’t been arrested yet?
” Misty jumped in front of me in a protective manner as she scanned the area looking for Calico, and for a second, it looked like she was reaching for a gun on her hip.
“No,” I said, kind of thrown by her demeanor.
“We better get out of here.” Misty grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s slip out the back door, and we can take my truck. I’m parked in the back. I’ll bring you back to get your car later.”
I lowered my head and tiptoed, with Misty blocking my body, as she walked behind me. She led me to a black Tahoe with dark tint. She opened the passenger door for me, and I scooted down into the front seat.
Misty climbed in on the driver’s side and hit the gas pedal. “How about if we go to my place and kick it for a while?”
I was surprised at just how cool Misty was. Sure, at the hospital she seemed like a down-to-earth chick, but I never would have expected us to click so easily.
I examined her from head to toe. She was dressed in D&G jeans, sneakers, and light jacket to match. She had her hair pulled up in a curly ponytail. Based on her attire alone, I would have to say, she was my type of female. Even so, I was still skeptical.
Generally speaking, I didn’t trust women, and especially after how Sasha stabbed me in the back. But since I was already in the truck with her and she’d practically saved me from Calico, I figured what the hell.
“That’s cool. You stay near here?”
“Yeah, not too far.”
And not too far was right because, after a few turns and ten minutes flat, we were pulling up to some new three-story town homes off Independence Boulevard.
“These are nice. I didn’t even know they were back here,” I said as we pulled into Misty’s two-car garage.
“Yeah, they’re new. It’s not much, but it’s a cozy little spot, for me alone.” Misty walked in the basement of the house from the garage.
It was a huge room with a sitting area, bathroom, minibar, and another area set up with workout equipment. I followed her up the first set of steps where the living room, kitchen, and the master bedroom sat. Giving me a quick tour, she then led me up another set of steps, where another two bedrooms were.
“We can relax in the basement,” Misty said as she took off her coat and got comfortable.
We walked back to the basement, and Misty flipped on the flat-screen television that resembled the exact one I had at home, and handed me the remote.
“Watch whatever you like,” she said to me, and then headed to the bathroom.
I used that moment as an opportunity to call Poppo. I needed to know what was up with our little arrangement. That run-in earlier was a little too close for comfort.
I called Poppo’s phone over and over again, but he didn’t answer. Finally I decided to leave a voice message. “Man, what’s the deal with Calico? I just saw that nigga at the mall,” I said, trying my best to whisper. “Are you gon’ do this shit or what? ’Cause, on the real, it’s gonna get done with or without you. So you gonna be a player in the game or a fucking water boy?” I knew the exact words to say to get in his head.
After completing my message, I rushed off the phone as Misty walked in.
“Can I make you a drink? I don’t know about you, but I need a little something to relax my nerves.”
“Ummmm, do you have any wine?” I asked, to see what kind of level she was on.
“Sure. What would you like? White Zinfandel, Merlot, Pinot?”
“How about Moscato?” I said, knowing she probably never heard of it.
“Coming right up,” Misty said, surprising the hell out of me.
Damn! I guess me and this bitch really can roll, I thought to myself, peeping her style.
After a few drinks we both were quite tipsy. We spent the next hour chatting like we were two old biddies.
“So, tell me, when is the big date? Are you aiming for this summer? If so, you only have a couple months to plan.”
“Well, I’m working on that. I had a late summer date set, but the owners of the historic mansion I’m trying to book aren’t working with me.”
“For real? Girl, I got all kinds of hookups. Tell me what you trying to do. What wedding scene do you have in mind?”
I spent the next ten minutes telling Misty all about my fantasy wedding, detail by detail.
“Wow! That’s sounds beautiful! Do you have a wedding planner?”
“Nope. I thought about contacting David Tutera though.”
We both laughed.
“Girl, save your money. I got your back. Wedding planning is my thing. Any event planning for that matter. I used to work for a huge event planning company before I moved to VA. When I got here I had my own company for a while. Then I got so involved in nursing, I let it go.”
“Oh my God! What a blessing. I would love to have you be my wedding planner. It must have been meant for us to meet.”
“That’s destiny.”
Misty and I tapped wineglasses as if we were giving a toast and took another gulp of wine.
Chapter 10
“Bitch Nigga”
Poppo
After I dropped Calico off at Norfolk International Airport, I checked my voice mail. Jewel had called me earlier, but I didn’t want to answer, with Calico in my presence. I was sure she’d left a message.
“Are you gon’ do this shit or what? ‘Cause, on the real, it’s gonna get done with or without you. So you gonna be a player in the game or a fucking water boy?”
I took the phone from my ear and looked at it. Listening to her message really pissed me off. It was like even this chick was taking me for a bitch. I wondered if I had the word bitch written on my fucking forehead, or if that shit Calico had was contagious.
I called Jewel back. My first instinct was to let that little bitch have it, but instead I decided to hear her out.
“Poppo, what the fuck is going on?” she said as soon as she picked up the phone. “You bitching up on me or what?”
Fuck this! This bitch got me fucked up. Without saying a word, I straight hung up on her ass, not thinking twice about it. I thought I had the patience to tolerate the little attitude she was giving, but I guess I didn’t.
Ring! Ring!
When Jewel called right back, I put her in her place this time. “Yo,” I answered the phone, “you gon’ have to bring that shit down a few notches, ma.”
“I’m saying . . . I thought we had a deal?”
“Jewel, I’m a man of my word. I got you, baby girl. This shit takes planning. Calm the fuck down. Have a drink or something. Let me do my shit. I gotta do it where there is no repercussions. But if this nigga makes you nervous, then you will be happy to know Calico is on his way back to California. He was only in VA to look for this bitch Sasha.”
“Sasha? What he want with her? Don’t tell me he dealing with that sheisty bitch!” Jewel snapped.
“Nah, ma, not at all. That nigga want to deal with her on some whole other shit.” Then I suggested, “Why don’t we meet up? I don’t really do the phone thing.”
“Okay. I feel you. What about that little Mexican spot off of Newtown and Virginia Beach Boulevard.”
Jewel picked a real inconspicuous spot. For sure no one would have ever seen us up there.
“Cool. Meet you there in about an hour,” I told her. “When I see you, I’ll get you up to speed on everything.”
“A’ight.” Jewel hung up the phone.
I had decided to meet up with Jewel not only because I wasn’t into the phone thing, but I needed to see her face to face so I could read her. Deep inside, I still didn’t quite trust that bitch, so I was proceeding with caution.
I knew exactly what my plans were. I was gonna use Sasha to lure Calico to Atlanta, and once I got him there, I was gonna let him have it. I needed to get that nigga in an unfamiliar area. A place where I knew he had no alliance. That would make my job all the easier. I had shit all mapped out, but I was planning to tell Jewel as little as possible, at least until I felt I could trust her a little more.
After leaving the airport, I made a quick stop by Mo Dean’s to pick up a few dollars from Murdock, a nigga that owed me money from a little business we’d arranged a few days earlier. I spotted his car as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. Luckily he was sitting in his car when I pulled up. I parked right next to him. I wanted to get shit done quick so I could shoot up the boulevard and meet up with Jewel.
“What up, man?” I said through the car window.
“Ain’t shit.”
Murdock got out of his car, and I unlocked the doors so he could hop in mine.
“Here you go.” He handed me a wad of money with rubber bands separating them.
“What’s this?” I always asked niggas how much they were giving me off the jump, to prevent any confusion.
“Five grand for now?”
“Five grand for now? When am I gonna see the other ten?” I asked, a little aggravated that Murdock didn’t have all of my loot.
“I got you, Poppo. I just need a little while longer.”
“Yeah, okay, nigga.” I placed the money in the glove box then locked it. “Do I need to count after you?” I asked, even though I was gonna count the money, regardless of what Murdock said.
“It’s all there, man. Have I ever shorted you before, muthafucka?”
“Nah, nigga. You know better than that. Now get out my car. I got shit to do. Gotta make this paper!”
“Gone!”
Murdock hopped out of my car, and I began to back out of the parking spot. I watched as he walked up to the barbershop next to Mo Dean’s and started talking to a couple of guys that stood out front. By the time I reached the end of the parking lot, the police was flooding the place. I busted a right turn onto Virginia Beach Boulevard and never looked back.
“Whew!” I let out a deep breath. I’d just made it. I ain’t have shit on me but I wasn’t trying to be in that fucking mix up. I turned up the radio and relaxed as I passed Booker T. Washington High School.