by Nikki Turner
He was pissy drunk. This was the first time Kima was hearing anything about his business. He never told her shit. That’s how she knew this situation was pretty damn bad. Kori confiding in her was like a Blood doing the Crip Walk—unheard of.
“A woman ain’t gonna draw no suspicion out there. Jake ain’t watchin’ no bitch. But these dudes, nah, they can’t ride dirty. Them niggas as hot as the fuckin’ Sahara Desert. That’s all I need for one of these scared-to-death-ass niggas to get knocked. They would be singing like Billie Holiday to the fuckin’ cops. My probation officer would love nothin’ more than to violate me and send my ass to Attica! Is that what niggas want? Huh? My ass being sent back to the pen? Then how y’all gon’ eat? I’m feeding all y’all niggas off my plate! How y’all gon’ eat if I get locked the fuck up?” Kori boomed.
His voice was rising and falling like hard waves crashing against rocks. He finally got tired of pacing and flopped down next to Kima. She jumped. She didn’t like when he was this riled up. He could be unpredictable. Kori sat quietly for a few seconds, his chest heaving up and down. Kima could tell his mind was racing too. The alcohol had a grip on him for sure.
“What the fuck I’ma do now?” Kori asked softly, putting his head in his hands.
Kori made Kima’s heart break. She wanted to take all of his problems away. She touched the back of his head gently. She rubbed him, comforting him. Kima didn’t have an answer for him. She closed her eyes, wishing that she did. Nothing came to mind right away. Sleep was setting in on her now, her mind was fuzzy and her back and legs ached. Kima was silently wishing for a solution. Her eyes closed involuntarily.
“What the fuck I’ma do?” Kori exploded.
Kima jumped so hard she almost died from being so scared. She jumped back and pulled her hand away from his head. Kori turned toward her angrily and grabbed her face roughly. He put his scowling face close to hers, she could smell the alcohol on his breath so prominently, she felt like she could taste it.
“Tell me what to do,” he snarled, pressing his fingers into her face.
Kima’s eyes were wide and fear danced in them. Her cheeks burned under his rough touch.
“How the fuck I’ma feed your freeloading ass now?” he hissed.
His eyes looked like fire. Kima didn’t want to look at him anymore. She closed her eyes tightly. Tears were running out of the corners of Kima’s eyes as she squeezed them shut. Her mind raced with options. She remembered him saying women don’t get looked at on the highway. She wanted to come up with a solution. She wanted him to stop making her hurt every time shit didn’t go his way. She wanted Kori to feel about her now, like he did in the beginning—like she was the solution and not the problem. Without thinking clearly, sleep deprived and in pain, Kima opened her lips and struggled to speak through Kori’s tight grasp.
“I . . . I . . . can take it down there,” she stuttered. “You sa. . . said women don’t draw no suspicion. I’m pregnant, so they really won’t suspect me, right?” she offered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
Kori’s face softened a little bit and he let her face go with a shove. Kima rubbed her sore cheeks and continued to cry. He put his head back into his hands. Kima was wondering if he was going to say he was sorry. She just knew he would say hell no to her offer. Kima thought there was no way a man would let his woman, pregnant with his child, risk herself just for money. Kori was quiet. He looked like he was deep in thought as he ran his hands over his low-cut hair. Kima remained quiet as well, instantly regretting what she had just thrown out there.
“You would really do that for me?” Kori finally asked, lifting his head and turning toward her.
Kima felt a hot flash in her chest. This wasn’t how this shit was supposed to go, but she knew she couldn’t turn back now. The baby moved inside of her. She wondered if her unborn son was telling her this was a bad idea.
“I would do anything for you Kori, anything for us,” Kima replied touching her stomach.
Chapter 4
Dame, Smoke, Rusty, and Chucky all stood around with their hands shoved in their pockets and their heads down. They felt fucked up that they couldn’t take Kima’s place on this run. Kima noticed their doomsday looks, but she didn’t comment or let it sway her decision. The guys’ ominous reactions to the news of her trip, left an empty feeling in the pit of Kima’s stomach. She didn’t know they had had a conversation on the way to the spot about how grimy Kori was for having his pregnant shorty running weight down I-95. Kori’s dudes were saying they never seen a nigga that desperate or that low. Smoke had even proclaimed that if he was Kori, whether he was on parole or not, he would’ve taken the chance himself before he risked his shorty riding dirty. Especially, a shorty pregnant with his son. Behind Kima’s back, Rusty had even stepped up and volunteered to do the run in place of Kima, even though Rusty knew he had a bench warrant out for him. Kori had told them all hell no. His decision was final. Kima would be making the quick trip there and back. To the guys, Kori was acting like this shit was legal and there was nothing to it. They all knew better. Not only would Kima have to watch for cops, there was also the very real possibility of niggas trying to stick her up once she got down there. Either way, his boys all agreed that Kori was a grimy-ass muthafucka for sending a pregnant chick. His pregnant chick at that.
Kori walked in to the room wearing a mean mug as usual. He slammed the bricks down on the table, shaking everybody in their boots. Kima had a poker face on. Nobody could tell what she was thinking. But Kima knew how she was feeling inside. The feeling was definitely familiar. It was the same way she felt when she was eight years old, the first time her grandmother had taken her to see her mother in prison.
The Family and Children visiting area at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for women had been crowded with people that day. Kima noticed a lot of kids there, all ages. Kima sat up straight in the chair and her grandmother sat to her left. When her mother was brought out, Kima didn’t move. Partly because she didn’t know who the woman walking toward their table was until her grandmother stood up to give her mother a hug. Kima suddenly felt lonely in that room full of people. Her mother grabbed her and held her tight for a long time. Her mother was sobbing, but the feelings of sorrow escaped Kima. She felt sick to her stomach. She had never met her mother that she could remember. Kima had felt like strangers surrounded her; even her grandmother seemed like someone she didn’t know. Kima hadn’t said much during the visit as she listened to her grandmother fill her mother in about her growing up. Kima felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, but somewhere deep inside she wanted the strange woman sitting across from her in the orange jumpsuit to love and accept her. Kima had felt empty and alone, but she remembered thinking that if she could just make the woman she was told was her mother love her, everything would be better in her world.
It was exactly how she was feeling now. Kori’s love and acceptance was all Kima had in the world. Although his agreeing to let her traffic drugs across state lines left her feeling hollow inside, somehow Kima believed that if she did this for him, it would make things perfect.
“I want this shit hidden good. Make them niggas have to take the bumpers off to find shit,” Kori instructed, like he was saying something that could protect Kima.
His cronies moved in to the table and began picking up the bricks of cocaine. They all filed out of the room to go stash the drugs in the hidden compartments of the car like they usually did when Junie was driving it. Once they were alone, Kori walked over to Kima and grabbed her in an embrace. Her heart was hammering but she didn’t say anything. She just lifted her arms and half-heartedly hugged him back. It was time for the mental warfare game he liked to play and she knew it all too well.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said stroking her hair. She was expecting this mind game. Kima remained quiet. “I mean, I need this really bad right now. We need it, but if you’re not comfortable with doing this shit, let me know now be
fore it’s too late,” he said, full of game and manipulation.
Kima pulled away from him. She knew better. She knew that if she said no now, there would be a price to pay. Besides, he had drilled it in her head that the cops don’t really fuck with female drivers unless they do something dumb. Kori had convinced Kima that if she played by the rules of the road, this plan was fool proof and he would even give her some money of her own for a change. None of that mattered to her more than making that man happy.
“No, I’m ready. I can do this one time, no big deal,” Kima replied.
“You a rider baby girl,” Kori said smiling. “Remember everything we went over. All you gotta do is make it to Richmond and those dudes will take the car from you from there. They’re gon’ put you on the Amtrak right back to me. I will be at the Amtrak station waiting for you and my boy,” Kori said, reaching out and touching Kima’s swollen stomach.
His touch sent a chill down her spine, but not in a good way. She shrank back from him like he had just touched her with something hot. It was the first time he had ever touched her belly or really acknowledged the baby inside her in a positive way. “Everything gon’ be all right. Drive the speed limit, use your signals, just be normal. Ain’t nobody watching no female, you can trust that,” Kori assured her again. Kima just nodded her head and began to walk toward the exit.
“Yo, after this, we gettin’ married. As soon as you drop little man, I’m wifing you officially. You hear me?”
Kima didn’t smile, she didn’t agree, she didn’t even turn around to let him know she’d heard him. She just remained quiet and kept on walking.
Smoke came back inside. “It’s all done.”
He looked at Kima like he felt sorry for her. Kima rolled her eyes and walked out of the door. Kori started after her. Smoke grabbed Kori’s arm, halting him. “Yo, my nigga. You sure you wanna send Shorty in her condition?” Smoke whispered, concern lacing his words.
Kori’s eyebrows dipped in the middle and he bit down into his jaw. “C’mon nigga stop all that before you put the blight on her. Let me find out my bitch is more gangsta than your soft ass,” Kori retorted, pulling his arm away from Smoke.
“A real leader will never send his people to hell purposely. This operation needs a new nigga in charge,” Smoke mumbled to himself, as he watched Kori with disdain. Smoke thought there was nothing worse than a selfish leader.
Kima slid behind the wheel of the rental. Before she could close the door, Kori grabbed it. “What, I don’t get a kiss n’ shit?” Kori asked, leaning down into the car. Kima looked up at him with sad eyes. She let him kiss her on the lips. She barely returned it.
“Remember what I said. Everything gon’ be good with this. Ain’t shit gonna go wrong,” Kori said, closing the door.
Kima started the car, looked at Kori one last time from the window and then she pulled out. She looked up into the rearview mirror. Smoke and Rusty were watching the car leave the block. Kori wasn’t even standing there watching to make sure she even got off the block. All she could see was the back of his head as he walked away. It stood out in her mind, that he had already turned his back on her.
* * *
“That’s the car, right there,” Junie said nervously as she slumped down in the back of the unmarked police car. They all watched the rental make a right at the corner.
“You sure?” one of the narcs asked. “That’s a female driving that car.”
“I’m sure. He probably got another female to do it after he heard I got locked up. Just like he would get me to run his shit. He thinks cops don’t fuck with females when they drive,” Junie replied. She had found out before she got knocked that Chucky was going to get a chick name Alicia to get him a Budget rental car. Junie knew that Alicia always got midsized cars. Junie had called Alicia to ask what kind she had gotten this time so she would know when she went to pick it up. Alicia had fallen for it and told Junie the make, model, and color of the car.
“You better be right about the car because if this doesn’t pan out, your ass is going to jail for a long, long time,” the other narcotic detective snapped.
Junie sucked the four or five teeth she had left in her mouth. She hadn’t even been able to put her dentures in for the ride over there. “My intel is on point. Just hurry the fuck up and get from around here before I be dead fuckin’ with y’all,” Junie shot back. She slid further down into the seat. The narco driving pulled out from their spot and began following the rental car.
“Why is she driving all the way to the belt and not going through the city?” he asked Junie.
“Because Kori says so. He is paranoid about the tunnels in the city. I’m telling you, he’s been doing this shit for a minute. Even though you might get the car and whoever is driving it, ain’t no guarantee they’re gonna snitch. Everybody is scared of Kori and without his hands being dirty, y’all might just be ass out. I did my part,” Junie replied.
“I guess it’s a chance we will have to take,” the narco driving retorted. He was secretly hoping that Junie’s ass was wrong. The other cop picked up his radio.
“Orange cat to blue mouse,” he said into the radio in code.
A voice filtered through in response. “The C.I. says the route is Belt Parkway to Verrazano toward Jersey to pick up I-95. We want this arrest, so don’t let her leave Brooklyn. The New Jersey plate is as follows: Edward, Oscar, Charlie, one five one . . . Stop the car as soon as you have a clear one. We can’t afford to let this one out of our jurisdiction,” the officer said.
Junie put her head down on her lap when she heard herself being referred to as a confidential informant. Her stomach rolled with nervous cramps. If Kori ever found out that she pulled the plug on his operation, she would be pushing up daisies. Junie felt kind of sorry for the poor bitch driving the car. She knew firsthand how much coke Kori was moving down that highway.
* * *
It seemed like Kima had been driving for hours and she hadn’t even gotten out of Brooklyn yet. The baby leaning on her bladder didn’t help any, even though she used the bathroom right before she left. Kima was finally in Canarsie, but she had to pee really badly. She pulled onto Rockaway Parkway and parked the car on a little side street away from all of the stores. She didn’t care what Kori said about not stopping until the first rest stop in Jersey, she had to piss and there was no way her bladder would hold through the traffic in Staten Island with a big-ass baby pressing down on it. Kima locked up the car and then raced inside the McDonalds to use the bathroom. Her bladder was so full the stream of urine seemed to take forever to get finished. Her nerves being on edge probably didn’t help either. When she exited the bathroom, she noticed a white man ordering food and a bum sitting in a corner talking to himself; nothing to be suspicious about. Kima wanted to order something but she couldn’t risk being in that McDonalds another minute. Kima was relieved to see that the rental car hadn’t been touched while she was gone. She climbed back in and headed for the Belt Parkway.
Kima eased the car past the Canarsie Pier, and a quick memory of Kori bringing her there in the beginning of their relationship crossed her mind. She smiled a little bit. The longer she drove alone, the more she forgave him for putting her out there. Kima was starting to believe everything would be fine and in a minute, she would be back in her bed with Kori holding her and rubbing her belly. Not to mention, her son would be entering the world in a few short months.
Kima merged into traffic on the Belt and signaled her way into the middle lane. She planned to ride that lane until she got to the exit for the Verrazano. Kima saw a cop car appear out of nowhere and her heartbeat sped up.
“Stay calm. They ain’t after your ass,” Kima chanted out loud a few times to herself.
She started thinking maybe she was wrong when it seemed like the cop car wouldn’t move from behind her. “What the fuck!” she cursed loudly, peeking at all of her mirrors. She suddenly had to pee again.
Kima’s heart hammered as she looked in the rearvi
ew mirror again and noticed that the cop car had thrown on its lights. She watched as the flashing lights drew closer and closer. “God, please let them pass me,” she prayed out loud.
It was like God didn’t hear her or maybe He wasn’t listening. When Kima heard the scream of the sirens directly behind her, she just knew she would die of a heart attack. She knew she needed to pull the car over.
“What the fuck?” she cursed as she eased the car toward the shoulder of the road.
She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. She couldn’t figure out why they were signaling her to pull over. Kima started playing shit over in her mind. She drove just like she had been told to do. She signaled with every lane change and did the speed limit. Kima started to regret that she had stopped at that McDonald’s. Maybe it was that. All kinds of thoughts ran through her mind as she waited for the police officers to approach the car. Kima’s hands trembled as she fumbled for her license and the paperwork for the rental car. This isn’t good. I haven’t even made it out of New York yet.
Kima was praying they would just give her a ticket for whatever they had stopped her for and let her go about her business. Anything other than that, and there would be hell to pay from Kori. Kima felt vomit creeping up her throat. She took a deep breath and thought about the instructions she had been given—Stay calm, be nice, make sure they see that you’re pregnant. She went over Kori’s words in her mind. A tall white cop approached the car from the left and one stood off to the right. Kima rolled down the driver’s side window prepared to hand him her license and paperwork on the car. She noticed right away that the cop on the left of the car had his gun out. Kima crinkled her face in confusion. It wasn’t that serious. Kima put her hands up in defense. She wasn’t trying to be the victim of NYPD’s next, accidental, shooting.