Street Banditz

by CJ Hudson

  “You want something back from Subway?” Bobby asked.

  “Naw, I’m straight. I betta get my ass back inside before I end up slapping the shit outta my bitch-ass boss.”

  “A’ight, I’ll holla. Peace.”

  Bobby strolled over to Subway and ordered a cold-cut twelve-inch sandwich. After flashing a knot and flirting with the cashier for a few minutes, he walked out of the restaurant confident that the next time he saw her, he would definitely be able to get her number. He would’ve stayed and tried to get it then, but because the cops had him hemmed up for three hours, he was already late getting to the house of one of his girls. After that, he was supposed to meet up with Red and help him cook up a quarter key of cocaine. He knew Red was gonna be pissed, but he would just tell him that 5-0 held him longer than they really had. The way the Cleveland Police liked to fuck with minorities, he thought, Red would more than likely believe him.

  Chapter 2

  Tammy sat at her kitchen table, twirling a pen in her right hand. The only thing brighter than her smile was the sunshine peeking through her curtains. After working two jobs nonstop for a year, she’d finally saved up enough money to further her education. Given her financial situation, Tammy was more than eligible to receive government assistance. But her stubbornness and strong urge to be independent caused her to strongly object to any form of aid from Uncle Sam. Everyone, including her little brother, Hakim, and her best friend, Ivory, thought she was a fool to turn down free money, but Tammy didn’t see it that way. How the hell is it free money when you have to pay it back with interest? she reasoned.

  Although her mother was proud of her for sticking to her plan, she did wonder at first if Tammy had the willpower to finish what she started. So when Tammy told her mother that she was going to fill out an application to attend college, her face lit up like fluorescent lights. It was only community college, but Janice Green acted like her daughter had just been accepted into Harvard. Truth be told, Janice couldn’t care less if it was a community college, trade school, or just learning how to do hair. She wanted her daughter to have some form of higher education. At the very least, with a higher education, she could support herself and not have to depend on a man to take care of her. Janice had made that dreadful mistake when she was younger, and because of it, she’d spent the last seven years of her life struggling in a workforce she wasn’t prepared for. In her opinion, the only good thing that came out of her ex-husband, Mark, running away with another woman was that it taught her daughter to never trust a man.

  At least, Janice thought it was a good thing. The last thing she wanted was for Tammy to get sidetracked because of some no-good, nappy-headed thug with his pants hanging off his ass. The way Tammy looked, she had reason to worry. Tammy was 19 years old, but if you paid attention to just her body and not her face, you’d swear that she was 23. She stood an even five feet seven inches tall. She had a small waist and thick Beyoncé-type hips. Her blemish-free skin was the color of honey. Her light brown eyes often fooled people into thinking she wore contacts, but that was nowhere near the case. She had a Rihanna-style haircut that she kept fresh to death. There was a rumor going on around the hood that Tammy was still a virgin, but that wasn’t quite true. Although she wasn’t the promiscuous type, Tammy had been dug out a time or two. But if the locals wanted to think her goodies were uncharted territory, she definitely wasn’t going to discourage them from letting the thought dwell in their minds.

  Still, the neighborhood dogs came at her like a pack of wolves, only to be quickly shot down. Tammy was on a mission. She was determined to succeed. She had seen far too many people fall victim to the streets, either by getting themselves killed or getting married to the streets with no possibility of divorce.

  After Tammy finished filling out her application, she put it in an envelope, put a stamp on it, and put it into the mailbox. She returned to the kitchen just in time to see Hakim rummaging through the refrigerator.

  “Fuck! There ain’t shit in here to eat,” he fussed. “Yo, sis, let me borrow five dollars so I can go to Subway and get me a five-dollar footlong.”

  Tammy vigorously shook her head from side to side. “Hell nah,” she spat. “Yo’ ass don’t like to pay back. You betta hook up with some of the damn Frosted Flakes in the cabinet.”

  “What?” he said with a screwed-up face. “Don’t nobody want no fucking cereal.”

  “Yo’ ass gonna just be hungry then,” she said, matching his tone. “’Cause I can’t help you.”

  Just as Hakim was about to plead his case, Tammy’s cell phone rang. After listening for a few seconds, Tammy said, “I’ll be there in a few.” After slapping her cell phone shut, Tammy slipped into her sandals. “Tell Mama that I went over to Ivory’s house and I’ll be back later on.”

  “Fuck that,” he said, still angry that she wouldn’t lend him $5. “I ain’t telling Mama shit! You want her to know where you at, tell her ya damn self!”

  “Whateva,” Tammy said as she rolled her eyes and walked out the door.

  * * *

  For Tammy, one of the benefits of having Ivory as a friend was that Ivory had her own apartment. It was only a one-room studio apartment, but it served its purpose well for when Tammy just wanted to get away from her mother and little brother and just chill.

  After Ivory buzzed her in, Tammy got on the elevator and rode it to the third floor. During the ride up, a tall, lanky, young dude with numerous tattoos stamped on both forearms tried to engage Tammy in conversation. His hair was braided into tight cornrows. He had light brown eyes and a thin mustache connected to a goatee. He might as well have been talking to himself. Tammy stared straight ahead as if she were in the elevator alone. Feeling slighted, the young man mumbled, “Fuck you,” under his breath as Tammy stepped off the box and continued on her way.

  As she approached Ivory’s door, Tammy just smiled and shook her head. Loud Jay-Z lyrics blasted from Ivory’s apartment, making it impossible for anyone trying to sleep to catch some z’s. A frown fell across her face as she turned the doorknob and walked right in. Time and time again, she had warned Ivory about leaving her door unlocked. As soon as she stepped through the door, the pungent smell of weed hit her in the face like a Floyd Mayweather jab. The impact gave her an instant contact high.

  “Damn, bitch, you’re getting blazed up in here,” she coughed. “And why the hell do you keep leaving your door unlocked? Someone’s going to come up in here and clip your ass one day.”

  “I left it open because I knew your ass was about to walk through the door,” Ivory shot back. “Plus,” she said as she reached between her brown suede couch cushions and pulled out a black .38 snub-nosed revolver that looked like it had seen better days, “I wish a muthafucka would run up in here tryin’a pull a damn heist. I’ll put some lead in their asses.”

  “Please,” Tammy laughed. “That raggedy-ass gun probably won’t even shoot.”

  “Word? It won’t? Let’s find out, tramp.” Ivory wrapped both of her hands around the instrument of death and pointed it in Tammy’s direction.

  Tammy froze. “Don’t play with me like that,” she said fearfully. “What if that thing goes off?”

  “Then yo’ ass just a dead bitch, ain’t you? Now stop dissing my shit,” Ivory said, sticking her gun back between the cushions.

  “Whatever,” Tammy said. She didn’t like Ivory waving a gun in her face and made a mental note to tell her about it later. But for right now, she just wanted to kick back and chill. “What do you have to drink in here?”

  “There’s some Absolut in the cabinet, but I ain’t got no cranberry juice. You gonna have to run to the store if you wanna get your drink on.”

  “What do you mean, I’m gonna have to go to the store? Yo’ ass is gonna be drinking too. You betta bring yo’ ass on.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ivory got up, grabbed her knockoff Gucci purse, and headed toward the door.

  Chapter 3

  The second the traffic light turne
d red, Tammy and Ivory sprinted across the intersection at 105th and St. Clair. This particular light was notorious for malfunctioning and had caused numerous accidents in the last few months. It wasn’t until a 3-month-old baby was killed in a head-on collision between a Honda Accord and a beer truck that the city finally decided to fix it. It was funny how a multimillion-dollar lawsuit could cause that effect. Still, people in the area were cautious.

  “Girl, you betta hurry yo’ ass up,” yelled Ivory. “You know how this light be tripping and shit.”

  “I thought they fixed this damn light.”

  “Are you willing to take a chance on that shit? Fuck around and yo’ ass will be roadkill.”

  “Slow your long-legged ass down.”

  “Keep up,” Ivory said, laughing.

  A full three inches taller than Tammy, Ivory had pretty, light brown skin and beautiful brown chestnut eyes. Her hair was silky black and pulled back in a ponytail. She was the spitting image of Tyra Banks in the movie Higher Learning.

  Tammy noticed that Ivory kept looking across the street at the Rite Aid pharmacy. “What the hell do you keep looking over there for?”

  “You know I’m s’posed to be at work today. I’m trying to make sure don’t nobody see my ass.”

  “Work? I thought you told me on the phone that you were off today.”

  “No, I told yo’ non-listening ass that I called off today.”

  The two young women quickly made their way back to the cooler.

  “Looks like they’re all out of cranberry juice,” Tammy said with a frown.

  “What? Where the fuck they do that shit at?” Ivory fussed. “Run the fuck outta cranberry juice at a damn grocery store.”

  “Shit happens,” Tammy said, shrugging her shoulders. “Fuck it then. I’ll just get this orange-mango juice.”

  Ivory twisted up her face. “ I bet that shit nasty as fuck.”

  “Then your ass doesn’t have to drink it,” Tammy shot back.

  Before Ivory could utter a comeback, she was startled by a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around and was immediately disgusted by what she saw. “Fred, take yo’ ashy-ass hands off me,” she screamed.

  “Damn, it’s like that?” her coworker asked while holding his hands up in surrender mode.

  “Nigga, it’s always been like that.”

  Fred Howard and Tammy had been working together at Rite Aid for the past six months. From the first day he worked with her, Fred had made it his life’s mission to get between her legs. The fact that she was repulsed by his mere presence did nothing to dissuade him. He tried everything, including offering to pay her rent, to get a crack at her goodies, but nothing seemed to work. Now, in his mind, at least, he had her right where he wanted her.

  “Yeah, whateva,” he said. “I thought yo’ ass called in a sick day. You don’t look sick to me.”

  “You know what? You need to mind your own fucking business, midnight.”

  Tammy started laughing so hard she almost busted a gut. There was no secret as to why Ivory called him midnight. Fred was short, fat, and extremely dark. His skin looked like wet, shiny coal. Embarrassed and angry, Fred stormed off without saying another word.

  “You betta stop talking to that nigga like that,” Tammy said, still laughing.

  “Fuck that nigga. I wish he would try to start some bullshit. I’ll have Darnell stomp his fat ass.”

  “Darnell? I thought y’all broke up last week.”

  Ivory looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Come on, you know how that shit goes. We break up to make up.”

  “I guess y’all do,” Tammy responded.

  When they got to the checkout counter, there was an old lady at the front of the line, counting out dimes. Ivory took one look at the total and went berserk.

  “Ah, hell naw! I know damn well y’all ain’t gonna let twenty muthafuckas stand in this one line while she counting out all that damn change! Why don’t y’all open up another damn line or something?”

  “Stop all that damn hollering,” an embarrassed Tammy whispered.

  “This shit is ridiculous,” Ivory screamed, ignoring her friend’s pleas to quiet down.

  Tammy thought about walking off and leaving Ivory in the store by herself. She hated when her ghetto-acting friend made a spectacle of herself in public. By the time they got ready to pay for the juice, another line was opening up. Ivory looked at the cashier who had opened up the line, and she popped her lips.

  “You can pop yo’ lips all you want,” the cashier, who was an older lady, tried to whisper, but she said it a little too loudly.

  As soon as she heard the words, Tammy tried to hurry up and pay for the juice. She knew from past experience that Ivory was not going to let that slide.

  “What the fuck did yo’ old ass just say? Not only will I pop my lips, I’ll pop yo’ ass!”

  Tammy then grabbed Ivory by her arm and pulled her taller friend out of the store. “Do you have to act a fool everywhere we go?”

  “You know that was some bullshit! Them muthafuckas done that shit on purpose!”

  “You know what? Let’s just get the hell out of here before we get arrested for disturbing the peace,” Tammy said.

  As both young ladies started walking across the street, Tammy looked and saw Fred and another gentleman standing in the Rite Aid doorway. Fred seemed to be pointing in their direction. She held her breath for a minute but exhaled when she realized that Ivory hadn’t noticed.

  * * *

  Nancy sat in her latest chocolate boy toy’s passenger’s seat, bobbing her head to Lil Wayne. She had just gotten off from work, and due to working a twelve-hour shift, her bouncy blond curls were now string-straight. Nancy wasn’t your typical white girl. From her light blue eyes to her cantaloupe-sized tits right down to her beach ball–sized ass, Nancy was a knockout.

  “What’s up? You got any more blow?” she asked, sniffing air into her nose.

  “More blow? You high as the clouds now!”

  “I’m not high, Mike.”

  Mike looked at her like she was three shades of crazy. From the second she hopped into his car, Nancy had been trying to snort up every drop of cocaine he had. Mike had about a quarter of an ounce of cocaine left, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Nancy snort up all of his product. Besides, it was almost time for Nancy to work off her debt, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get too high and not be able to service him.

  “Nah, I ain’t got no more,” he lied.

  “That’s really too bad,” she said as she reached into his lap and squeezed his dick. “Because I was gonna let you do all kinds of nasty things to me tonight.”

  Mike damn near crashed his whip as he thought about all the kinky things that Nancy might be willing to do just to get another taste of powder. A wicked thought popped into his mind as he made a left from 79th onto Wade Park. “You know, I might be able to cop some from a friend of mine. How much money you got on you?”

  “About four funky-ass dollars.”

  “Nah,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. “That ain’t gon’ get it.” When Nancy didn’t say anything, he decided to push further. “That’s a shame, too, ’cause he be having that primo shit.”

  Nancy’s mouth started to water as she thought about the good coke she would be missing out on if she didn’t find a way to make this happen. “You can’t get him to give it to you on credit?” she asked.

  “Hell nah! I owe that muthafucka money now!”

  Nancy took a deep breath and dropped her head. “Maybe we can work something out,” she whispered in a voice that was barely audible.

  A sly smile crept across Mike’s face. Nancy wanting to get even higher than she already was gave Mike the green light to try to get her to let him and his homeboy run a train on her.

  As Nancy sat back and closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but reflect on how she’d let her life slip this far. Nancy D, as she liked to refer to herself, grew up on Lakeshore
Boulevard in a suburban area of Cleveland, Ohio. She was an only child and was only 8 years old when her mother was killed at the age of 36 by a drunk driver. Her father became all she had. It took Nancy almost a year to climb out of the deep depression she’d sunk into.

  It didn’t make it any better that her father was a workaholic who rarely had any time for her. People close to Nancy tried to tell her that working fourteen hours a day was just her father’s way of coping with her mother’s death, but in Nancy’s eyes, he should have been there for her. He was all she had. By the time she was 15, Nancy was rebelling against her father in the worst way. Staying out past her curfew was the norm. Smoking weed was a way of life for her, and the friends she had started hanging out with were nothing short of hoodlums. Although she had first started having sex when she was only 13, it wasn’t until she was 17 that she received her first real orgasm.

  True to her rebellious nature, Nancy had snuck out of the house and hooked up with some friends from her neighborhood. They had gone to a house party that eventually turned into a coed slumber party. With them was a black dude she had never met before. He was the cousin of one of her friends. She thought he was cute, but he ignored her pretty much the whole night. Determined to make him notice her, Nancy made it her business to dance with him every chance she got. She made sure to grind her ample ass on his crotch, and she even “mistakenly” touched his dick a few times. Knowing what time it was, the dude proceeded to sneak her upstairs. After licking her clit until she exploded three or four times, he climbed on top of her and pounded her guts until she passed out from the pleasure. From that day forth, a white man couldn’t do shit for her. To her, if the dick wasn’t black, then they could have it back.

  “Okay, we’re here,” Mike said, breaking her out of her once-upon-a-time daydream.

  Nancy got out of the car and slowly walked her way to Mike’s friend’s apartment. Knowing what the deal was, as soon as she got inside the door, she was taking her clothes off.

  Chapter 4

  By the time Tammy left Ivory’s house, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. The two longtime friends laughed, argued, made up, and laughed some more as they talked over old times with each other. Ivory developed a slight attitude when Tammy told her that she was getting ready to leave.