Havoc and Mayhem

by Derrick A. Bonner

  “You won’t find shit amusing if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Like who sent you? Was it my competition? Or did the losers from the neighborhood pool their money together and hire you to clean up the community?” he demanded holding his weapon in a threatening manner.

  Havoc looked more annoyed than concerned, “I’ll take that,” he calmly said motioning at the gun aimed at him.

  Johnny Hop laughed, “Yeah right. So, what I’m just supposed to just give you my biscuit?”

  “Or I could take it.” Havoc coyly said.

  “Well, I’d like to see you try it!”

  In a flash the Trouble Consultant, using urban tactics, quickly grabbed his gun and took it up and out of his face, brought the weapon down and with his enemy’s finger trapped in the finger well of the pistol, laid two stinging punches to Johnny Hop’s face, snatched the gun away then pointed his own gun at him.

  “Ow my nose! How the fuck? Yo man you gotta teach me that!” the disarmed drug dealer said impressed holding his throbbing nose.

  “Shut-up! Now we’re gonna have a little Q and A, and at the risk of sounding redundant, please make your answers genuine. Now normally I’d never betray my client’s confidentiality but this is a unique situation that’s personal to me. And since I’m more than confident there won’t be any backlashes from you, I don’t have a problem asking if you’re familiar with a gentleman who goes by the name of Bug-Out?”

  “Bug-Out? That walking punch line? You gotta be shitting me. He’s the one who hired you?” Johnny asked dumbfounded. “What the hell for?”

  “Oh, lots of things, but let’s start with you using his old lady as your personal plaything because he couldn’t pay you back for the drugs he owed you.”

  “You’re joking right?” Johnny asked bursting into laughter.

  “Do you see me laughing?” Havoc asked with a scrunched-brow glare.

  “No but I sure the hell am.” Johnny Hop could barely get the words out he was laughing so hard.

  “Hop, I’ma give you to the count of three to wipe that raggedy ass smile off your ugly face or I will!” Havoc warned. “One!”

  Johnny held up his hand doing his best to drop his smirk but could not stop giggling. Havoc’s eyes went dark. “Two!”

  “Ok-ok. I’m trying. But me and that skee-zoid?” Johnny Hop grinned disrespectfully.

  “Three!” Havoc lunged out grabbing him by his throat ceasing all laughter immediately and rammed the back of his skull hard against the window. No longer finding anything to grin about, the drug dealer gagged as Havoc calmly squeezed his esophagus. “Open your mouth!” Havoc ordered, forcing the barrel of Johnny Hop’s Glock down Johnny Hop’s throat. “Tell me something motherfucker, you ever see an old drug dealer before?” Unable to answer the drug dealer nervously shook his head. “That’s cause they don’t exist! Am I making myself clear?” he asked. Turning red from choking, Johnny Hop frantically nodded and Havoc released his grip. The street dealer gasped sucking up air then turned to Havoc coughing and frantic.

  “Man iz you crazy? You could’a killed me!” Johnny Hop complained not use to being treated by anyone like this before.

  Outside the dealer’s goons became concerned and tried the doors then banged on the tinted window calling out to him. The window came down to eye level. “I’m Okay! Get back to your posts!” their boss ordered then pushed his window back up and went back to Havoc who looked like he was ready to inflict more punishment. “Now before you tried to twist my head off I was about to tell you I ain’t screw that hoe!”

  “That’s not what he told me.” Havoc growled.

  “And you believe a lousy dope head? I thought you were sharper than that Havoc! Man look out that window. Go ahead-look!” Havoc cut his eyes at the sickeningly attractive wasp-waisted women standing outside unsure if they should run for help or continue standing there shivering in their barely there dresses. “I push more powder than Johnson and Johnson and live the Montana life style minus the motherfucking scar! And I only bang model-looking-bitches! So why in the fuck would I screw a nasty crackhead hooker?”

  “Fuck you! Laquita’s not a hooker.”

  “Fuck me? No fuck you!” Johnny snapped back then immediately regretted it as the cartoon speed knot on the back of his head reminded him of the repercussions. “Look, I’m just saying you need to open up your eyes wide and realize! Now I don’t know what kind of lies them two been feeding you, but I did Bug-Out a favor! Dude came to me begging for work, so me being the softhearted chump that I am, I hit him off with a brick of hash to push and he played me!”

  “And how’d he do that?” Havoc asked.

  “The son of a bitch took egg whites, thyme, oregano and crushed bay leaves, mixed it up molded into blocks and sold it as Purple Haze.”

  “And why would he do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe so he and his girl could get high off of my shit!” Johnny Hop said.

  “C’mon Hop, you didn’t get where you are by falling for the okey-doke. If you knew all this then why’d you trust him with your product?”

  “Cause my girl’s equally loser brother vouched for him.”

  “Let me guess? Was it Dead-Broke?”

  “Yup, birds of a feather. But it was only a bullshit seven-gram so I ain’t care. And I didn’t know he was a fiend until he pulled this shit. I will say this much, Bug-Out may be a lot of things but stupid’s not one of ‘em. He knew that since you got to smoke haze with other shit to get lifted most niggas would never know the difference.”

  Havoc stroked his goatee mulling things over. He didn’t want to believe it but Laquita’s appearance at the party was shabby. And Bug-Out had been lying about everything thus far. The gun lowered, and the one-eyed dealer noticed a change in his composure.

  “Hopefully this clears up the how-full-of-shit-I-am opinion you’ve formed of me. Followed by, ‘My fault Hop, this won’t happen again’.” Johnny Hop said while massaging his throat.

  “Are you a hundred percent certain what you told me is the truth?” Havoc asked not even entertaining the ridiculous request.

  With his one good eye, Johnny Hop looked Havoc straight in his two, “I swear on everything I love, them two is madd fiends! Bug-Out be chasing that Snow White like she’s a real live bitch! And Laquita sucks the pipe and the occasional dude in the project’s staircase for money.”

  Havoc knew Johnny wasn’t lying about the coke since that’s what his cousin was doing when he busted him. He inhaled and exhaled deeply then yelled, “Fuck!”

  For a guy who was supposedly hard-core Havoc seemed a little too emotional and concerned about a couple of three-time losers and it suddenly occurred to Johnny what this was all about. “Son of a bitch! Why didn’t I figure it out before? You’re related to him in some way ain’t you? That’s why it’s personal,” he asked. Havoc did not answer but his face and body language did. “You gotta be or why else would you give a shit? Cause it ain’t like they could afford to hire you.” The Trouble Consultant cut his eyes at him and opened the door. “Hey Havoc tell your brother, cousin or whoever the hell Bug-Out is to you that he better pay me what he owes, or he ain’t gotta worry about me fucking his wife, cause I’ll be fucking him…Ok that sounded gay. But you know what I mean!”

  Havoc turned back and tore Johnny Hop’s eye patch off his face. Then looking into his mismatched eyes said, “I’m warning you stay the fuck away from Bug-Out and Laquita! Or I’ll give you a matching set One eyed Willie!” after getting his point across he tossed his patch and weapon back at him, then stepped out into the cold rudely bumping shoulders with Johnny Hop’s goons and hopped into his car then peeled off.

  The men looked to their boss for answers as he shrugged unconcerned. “Don’t even sweat that fool y’all, his time is coming!” Johnny Hop said focusing his good eye on the black Benz in the distance and nodded accepting his little birdy’s offer. “Trust me…And would somebody help Dun-Deal’s
ass off the fucking ground? Shit’s embarrassing!”

  Chapter 17

  Havoc stood outside of the tall building where Disney printed sheets doubled as curtains in the windows of several apartments and sighed. Hating what he was about to do but given no other choice, he and his best friend entered the building where his cousin resided.

  A couple of young men were hanging out in the lobby drinking beer, free-style rapping and beat boxing. As Havoc waited for the elevator he wrinkled up his nose at the sickly sweet medicinal odor of burning cocaine mixed with weed, tobacco and a little bit of angel dust in the ‘Ruler’ the sherm heads passed back and forth.

  “Yo Big man, the elevator ain’t working.” One of the men informed Havoc while keeping his beady eyes locked on Mayhem.

  Havoc nodded ‘thanks’ and the Trouble Consultants began the hike up to the fourth floor mindfully stepping over puddles of urine, tobacco and empty crack vials. When he reached apartment 4C he heard loud music and a lot of activity coming from inside. With a headshake of disapproval, he covered the keyhole with his hand then rang the doorbell.

  “Who Is it?” A voice fought to be heard over the music and what sounded like barking. Havoc did not answer and rang the bell again. “A-yo Bug-Out, somebody’s at your door man!” the voice reported.

  “Well did you ask who the fuck it is?” Havoc’s blood pumped when he heard Bug-Out’s voice.

  “Yeah, but they ain’t answer. And they covering the peephole.”

  “What? Oh, so niggas wanna play games?” Bug-Out angrily demanded.

  “Easy girl. Simmer down,” Havoc said to Mayhem who let out an agitated growl, anxious to mix it up. He mashed the bell three times in a row.

  “God dammit! Who the fuck is it?” Bug-Out asked again. After getting no response he unbolted the locks leaving the chain on the door and nervously reached into his pocket. “Whoever’s on the opposite side of this door is about to get they ass whooped like Kunta Kinte!” Suddenly, the door kicked open breaking the chain! “OH SHIT!” he screamed when he saw Havoc and Mayhem standing in his doorway.

  Havoc grabbed Bug-Out as he tried to run and flung him like a rag doll across the room. The Trouble Consultant stepped inside and looked around. Disgust was written all over his face. His cousin’s apartment had become a crash pad for base heads who walked around like zombies in some bugged-out urban horror flick. Out of nowhere Dead Broke came running up clutching a baseball bat and frothing at the mouth like he had rabies. Shouting expletives, he swung it horizontally at Havoc. The Trouble Consultant moved forward instead of retreating and closed the distance to avoid the business end of the bat. Timing it perfectly after a missed swing, his hands exploded forward and trapped Dead Broke’s wrists, forcing him to drop the weapon on the floor.

  The frail black man with a pack of Newports tied to his doo-rag looked down at the bat then cringed meekly at Havoc. “Just not in the face,” he begged.

  Havoc grunted then bitch smacked him and he collapsed. Junkies scattered like roaches with the lights on as Havoc stepped inside their circle welcoming any and all challenges. A couple of simpletons high enough to believe they could actually take the large man on attacked and were toppled like bowling pins. Someone came up from behind Havoc and threw their arms around his neck putting him in a full nelson. With his free arm Havoc reached back and yanked them off and was about to knock their lights out then quickly stopped in total shock. It was Laquita. Their eyes locked and she dropped her head in shame. Havoc couldn’t believe it. Johnny Hop was right. His cousin and his wife were a couple of fiends!

  “Where’s AJ?” Havoc demanded. Laquita rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Don’t make me ask again?”

  “Damn man, leave her be! The kid’s in the john,” A crack fiend spoke up then quickly dropped his head, afraid to look Havoc in the eyes.

  “Pathetic,” Havoc hissed with a glare then went over to the bathroom. He could see movement inside from the space between the door and the floor. “AJ? Hey little guy, it’s your cousin. Don’t be afraid.” he said and twisted the door knob then opened it slowly as the crack fiend looked up smiling sinisterly. “AJ?…” Instantly a ferocious barking pit-bull leaped out attacking him.

  “Yeah, tear his ass up Roscoe!” the owner shouted to his dog.

  Havoc stumbled backwards bringing his knee up and crossing his arms in front of his face to protect himself as the fierce mongrel sprang forward. With its lethal jaws snapping wildly, the dog chomped down on his coat and pulled. Then a deep growl was heard over all the commotion and suddenly it occurred to Roscoe and his owner that another dog was on the scene too. And this dog was bigger, meaner and deadlier!

  In a flash Roscoe was removed from Havoc by Mayhem as she clamped down on the pit-bull’s hind leg and flung the dog like a frisbee. Letting out a painful yelp, Roscoe slid across the room then spun around to face the angry, sharp teeth baring Bull Mastiff. Everyone stepped back as a whimper that could be interpreted as ‘oh shit!’ in dog speech was made by Roscoe. Mayhem moved forward snarling to attack. After being bitten and handled like a rubber chew toy, Roscoe didn’t want any more of what Mayhem had to offer and scampered out the front door while he still could with his master running behind. Mayhem victoriously trotted beside Havoc ready for anything else.

  After rewarding his dog with a pat on the head for a job well done, he told her, “Anybody moves… ‘Suppertime!’” then stormed past Laquita with his sights locked on the door at the far end of the hall covered with ‘Garbage Pail’ stickers and a child’s arts and crafts. He twisted the doorknob, cracked it partially and peeked in with his gun drawn to make sure the coast was clear. After deciding it was safe he holstered his weapon and entered.

  “Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? I’m a grown ass man! My own momma don’t tell me what to do!” Dead Broke complained to Bug Out then started for the door. Mayhem growled and he promptly sat back down.

  Dressed in Spiderman Underoos little AJ sat wedged in between the space of his bed and the wall with his hands clamped tightly over his ears trying to block out the loud ruckus from yet another one of his parents’ wild drug parties. He lifted his head when he saw his cousin standing in the middle of his room and jumped up and ran over crying uncontrollably.

  “Get your coat and favorite toy little man. I’m taking you up out of here.” Havoc said lifting the child into the air.

  “I ain’t got a coat or toys no more. My daddy stoled it for crack.” The child whimpered and gave into a flood of tears. A look of dismay came over Havoc.

  Havoc walked back into the living room cradling little AJ wrapped up in his own leather bomber. Everyone was still planted on the floor. Bug-Out and Laquita were huddled on the couch scared to move. But as soon as Laquita saw Havoc exiting with her child she became frantic.

  “Oh hell no! Where do you think you’re taking him? That’s my child!” She demanded.

  “Like you really care!” Havoc snapped. “I’m not surprised at Bug-Out. But you Laquita, you really had me fooled.”

  “I could give less than a fuck what you think about me. Just put my son down and take your dog and get the hell outta’ my house!” Laquita jumped up demanding then backed down when Mayhem let out a warning growl. As Havoc leaned in to settle down Mayhem, he could feel the boy’s grip tighten around his neck and shoulders. AJ definitely did not want to stay in this rat hole.

  “Oh I’m leaving, but the kid’s coming with me!” Havoc said.

  “Sorry cousin but I can’t let you do that.” Bug-Out said rising up.

  “Bug-Out as far I’m concerned we’re no longer family. You’ve used up all your sympathy with me. Regardless of what we spoke about.” Havoc said looking through his cousin and headed for the door.

  Laquita turned to Bug-Out. “Don’t just stand there! Do something!”

  “Yo man I ain’t playing around! Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret!” Bug-Out said and with shaky hands reached i
nto his pocket and pulled out a tired looking revolver. Mayhem growled awaiting her orders. Havoc slowly put AJ down and looked into his eyes with a hard stare.

  “No daddy! Don’t!” AJ cried.

  “So what’s up, you gonna shoot me?” Havoc asked then held out his arms to give him a better target. “Well here I am. Go ahead, do what you gotta do.”

  Bug-Out clenched his teeth and curled his finger around the trigger. The crack he smoked was coursing through his veins making him sweat like he was in a sauna. He glanced down at his son and knew that he could not do this.

  “Dammit! Just leave my son and go!” He tried to sound demanding but it came out more like pleading.

  “If you want to fuck up your life fine by me. But I’m not going to stand by and watch you wreck shorty’s. So you do what you have to do. And I’ll do the same! In fact, I’ll make this easier on everyone involved.” Havoc said and pulled out his wallet. “So how much? One, two, three hundred?” He said pulling out crisp big-faced bills.

  “What are you talking about?” Bug-Out asked confused.

  “How much will it cost to buy your son from you? Come on give me a price. Seven, seven-fifty, eight. Talk to me.”

  Bug-Out’s eyes bulged at all the money. So did Laquita’s. Havoc counted out eight hundred and eighty-three dollars.

  “This is all I got on me. Talk to me. Is it enough, cause I can easily get more?” he asked openly.

  Bug-Out and Laquita traded wide-eyed stares then Bug-Out dropped to a level he never thought he’d go and nodded his head.

  “See just like you said, everyone has a price. Well, come get your money.” Havoc said.

  The walk across the room was the longest distance Bug-Out had ever traveled in his entire life as he went over to claim the money for his son. Laquita never said a word. As far as she was concerned the money was already spent on her next high. Bug-Out held out his hands to receive his money but was unable to look his cousin in the eye. Havoc went to hand it over and dropped the money on the floor.