by K'wan
Paul’s hands shot straight up. “Hey, man, ain’t nobody running, be the fuck cool.”
“Stop resisting!” the thin cop barked, twisting Paul’s arm roughly behind his back.
“Yeah, that’s him!” Rhonda shouted, coming out of the building. She was holding an ice pack on her jaw and had a small gathering of people behind her for dramatic effect. “Lock that nigga the fuck up.”
“Please step back, ma’am,” the chubby cop said, blocking her path, but he still kept his gun pointed in Paul’s direction.
“Rhonda, you called the fucking police on me?” Paul asked in disbelief.
“You’re damn right. I told you I was gonna fix your ass for putting your hands on me,” she said smugly.
“This is some bullshit! Rhonda, you know I was just defending myself, your little boo tried to get at me,” Paul declared.
Rhonda shot Paul and evil glare and smirked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is you came into my house and started swinging on me, and I’ve got a bunch of witnesses to vouch for that.” She motioned to the people behind her.
“You lying little bitch!” Paul struggled. “That’s a fucking lie,” he addressed the thin cop. “Rhonda, tell them what really happened!”
“That’s the story as I know it,” she said coolly.
“You lying little bitch!” Paul tried to wild out, but the cop prevented him from getting to Rhonda. “Someone tell them this bitch is lying.” Paul spoke to the crowd, but no one came to his defense. “I can’t go to jail, I’ve got an art exhibit tomorrow night.”
The thin cop had trouble restraining him, so the chubby one lent a hand. “If you’re lucky, you’ll have seen the judge by then.” The two cops wrestled Paul into the back of the car and slammed the door.
“Let’s see that snooty bitch Marlene get you out of this one,” Rhonda said and laughed. “Your little fairy-tale life ain’t looking too good, is it?”
“Fucking bitch!” Paul shouted from the backseat.
“Don’t worry, baby daddy, I’ll put some money in your account when I get my check!” Rhonda taunted as the police took Paul away.
* * *
Marlene lay in her bed, trying to get into her Jackie Collins novel with little luck. It was three o’clock in the morning and she still hadn’t heard from Paul. She tried calling his cell phone, but it kept going to voicemail. She wanted to cry, but figured it wasn’t going to do her a damn bit of good. She would just have to accept the fact that Paul wasn’t ready to be an adult just yet.
She reached under her bed and retrieved the journal Paul had brought for her on their one-year anniversary. The inscription on the front read, “Thank you for twelve months of happiness.” She got all choked up for a minute, thinking about how their relationship had been before the bullshit came into play. It seemed like the more of her heart she gave him, the more he neglected her. She understood his problems within life and God knew she didn’t blame him for Rhonda, but how much of a toll was carrying the weight of everyone else’s bullshit and neglecting her own needs going to have on her? Marlene wasn’t getting any younger and she had had about enough of twisting Paul’s arm.
Picking up her house phone, she dialed Audrey. When she picked up, Marlene said, “Audrey, I might be going away for a few weeks, so I’m gonna need you to do something for me.”
37
Reese knelt over the toilet, puking for the third time that morning. She had been going through this since a day or so prior. At first, she thought it was the combination of alcohol and penicillin, but when her mother had made a comment about her skin glowing a bit more than usual, paranoia kicked in.
When she was just about sure that nothing else was going to come out, she pulled herself up from the toilet. The face that stared back at her in the mirror was an unattractive one. Her eyes were red and speckles of vomit were on her chin. Taking a cold cloth from the side of the sink, she proceeded to wash her face.
“What the hell is going on with me?” she asked her reflection. She waited for a minute, but getting no response, figured she was on her own. Now came the moment of truth. Her nausea and her mother’s comment had sent her scrambling to Duane Reade to get a home pregnancy test. She had peed on the stick before the vomiting started back up, but she was stalling. After getting burned, punched, and dissed, she was deathly afraid of what she mind find out next.
“Suck that shit up, Reese. You can do it,” she told herself. Reese’s hands trembled as she picked up the little white stick and held it to eye level. When she saw how many lines had appeared, she flopped down and placed her forehead on the side of the sink. She tried to scream, but found that she no longer had a voice. All she could do was weep silently.
* * *
Groovy came out of the liquor store, cradling a bottle beneath his arm like a football. He and Rel had had the good fortune of meeting two little sack chasers on the ave who were out looking for a good time. They had planned to get the hos high and drunk and fuck their brains out.
No one had seen or heard from Jah and his man in a minute, so Groovy was inclined to believe they were hiding somewhere, licking their wounds. It was like he and Rel had said from the beginning, the two youths didn’t wanna play with the big boys. Slick was still acting funny, but things were business as usual for the two hoods. He had looked up to Slick as sort of a mentor, but his actions of late made him question his faith in the older man. Much like Rel, Groovy wasn’t big on thinking, so he believed in taking a more hands-on approach to everything. Slick and all his strategizing was making him feel soft and he didn’t like it.
Rounding the corner, Groovy literally bumped into someone. The bottle had almost slipped from his hands, but he managed to maintain his grip. He looked up, ready to bark, but paused. Something about the kid wearing the black stocking cap looked familiar, but Groovy couldn’t place him right off. When the young man smiled it all began reaching Groovy’s mind and it clicked. Spooky was quick on the draw, but young Groovy was quicker. Smashing the bottle against Spooky’s face, Groovy took off running in the other direction.
His cheek hurt from where the bottle had struck him and his eyes burned from the liquor running in them, but it didn’t stop Spooky from chasing Groovy. The young man zigzagged through the pedestrians on the sidewalk, making it hard for Spooky to get a shot off, for fear of hitting innocent bystanders. Groovy had no such reservations and proceeded to fire his Glock.
Chest heaving and almost out of breath, Groovy rounded the corner and tried to make a break for St. Nicholas Avenue. He knew if he reached the park, he could lose Spooky and come back another day. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he saw that he had the man by at least a block. Seeing that he still might live through this gave him added speed as he burst out onto St. Nicholas.
When Groovy tried to cross the street, he was cut off by another man on a dirt bike. “Oh shit!” was all he could say as Jah hit him in the chest with the .40. Groovy rocked to one side and lost his footing. He almost hit the ground, but managed to steady himself with his hand. Just as he tried to get up, Jah blew his kneecap off, putting him on his back.
“Where you going, Jumping Jack Flash?” Spooky asked, finally catching up to Groovy. “You hit me in the face with a fucking bottle.” Spooky stomped on Groovy’s ruined knee, causing him to shriek.
“You muthafucka!” Groovy rolled on the ground, holding his knee. “I’m gonna kill you niggaz!”
“You ain’t gonna do nothin’, you raping piece of shit.” Jah kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. “Even on my thirstiest day, I ain’t gotta take the pussy.”
Groovy looked at Jah as if he didn’t understand, but as realization began to kick in, he started laughing. “Is that was this is about, a bitch?”
“Watch yo mouth.” Jah kicked him again.
Groovy yelped and went back into his fit of laughter. “And here I thought you niggaz had come to handle your business on some official shit, and you out here popping off over
some bitch.” He spat blood on he ground. “Well, fuck y’all and that bitch. You should’ve heard the way she screamed when my nigga put his dick in her ass,” he taunted.
“That’s funny?” Jah asked emotionally.
“Nigga, that shit is beyond funny.” Groovy’s laughter got louder. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire drowned out his laughter. Jah started at his shins and worked his way up Groovy’s body. It wasn’t until his clip was spent that he allowed Spooky to pull him away.
* * *
“Rel, you’re so funny,” Sunshine said, pawing him. She was a short chick with cocoa skin and large breasts.
“Yeah, I know, baby. I always said I should’ve been on Def Comedy Jam,” he said arrogantly.
“So you really run this whole project?” Scar asked, as if she was really interested in hearing him talk about himself further.
Rel popped his collar. “This my hood right here. I got the block on smash, boo, you ain’t know?”
Scar and Sunshine continued to listen to Rel’s ranting, wondering how much longer they’d have to put up with it. When the news of what had happened to Yoshi had reached Shooter’s, all the girls took it hard, but none more so than Scar and Sunshine.
Since Sunshine had started working at Shooter’s six months ago, Yoshi was one of the few girls that had been nice to her. Yoshi was like the big sister she’d never had, schooling her to the game of stripping and making sure she was okay. There were even times when Sunshine couldn’t make tip-out and Yoshi had gone into her own money to make sure Sunshine was good.
Scar had a much more personal stake in it. When she was a child living in Africa, she had been a victim of rape. A group of local thugs had caught her coming home from school one day and took turns violating her then-virgin womb. When it was done, they beat her and left her for dead in an alley. Luckily, an old beggar woman found her and made sure she got to the hospital. The scars of what had happened had been with her longer than the tribal markings on her face. Her heart went out to victims of rape and she wished a pox on the offenders, hoping that they all burned in hell. When Marcus approached her with the plan he was piecing together with Jah, it provided her with a means to send one more on his way.
Rel was so caught up with trying to impress the two girls that he almost didn’t notice the shadows begin to move. At first he thought his eyes might’ve been playing tricks on him, but when two male figures holding weapons detached themselves from the darkness, he knew that they weren’t. It was on! Rel tossed Sunshine from his lap and pulled his gun from under the bench. He tried to raise it, but to his surprise, Scar slapped it out of his hand.
“Bitch, what the fuck are you doing?” Rel asked in disbelief.
Scar was no longer looking at him with the fluttering eyes of a schoolgirl, but with the murderous glare of a predator. “That girl you raped was a friend of mine, you worthless piece of shit,” she said as she pulled a razor. “When you die, I’m gonna dance on your grave.”
Scar swung the blade in a crossing motion, trying to cut Rel’s face. He weaved from the attack and caught her on the chin. He expected the blow to fold the tall woman, but she remained standing. Scar came back with a double swing, catching Rel across the gut. His white T-shirt began to turn red at the bottom from the blood that was now trickling from his stomach.
Rel couldn’t believe what the fuck was happening to him. A minute ago, he was waiting for his man Groovy so they could get some ass, but now he found himself leaking with two assassins closing in on him. He weighed his options and figured a good run was better than a bad stand any day.
38
“That nigga trying to run!” Jah shouted.
“I got him,” Spooky said, trying to draw a bead on Rel’s fleeing back. He fired two quick shots, missing with both bullets.
“Damn, you missed him,” Jah said, jogging ahead of Spooky.
“Why don’t you pop off instead of running your mouth!” Spooky shouted back.
Rel was tearing through the projects, screaming like a girl. He ran in zigzag motions, trying to avoid the flying death that was at his back. After hopping a fence, his building was finally in sight. He banged on the lobby door, but none of the people waiting for the elevator bothered to let him in. Rel had been terrorizing the St. Nicholas projects since he came home and frankly, the residents were tired of his shit.
Rel turned to seek an alternative escape route and his shoulder exploded. The fire shot from his neck to the tips of his fingers, putting Rel in a world of pain that he had never imagined he would visit. He was in so much agony that when he opened his mouth to scream it came out as gibberish. As he lay on the floor bleeding, he prayed for God to save him.
“God ain’t gonna do nothing for a worthless sack of shit like you,” Jah said as he walked up. He was out of breath and tired as hell from the chase, but seeing Rel leaking gave him added stamina.
“Yo, what the fuck is y’all niggaz doing?” Rel asked, scooting closer to the lobby door.
“What you think we’re doing?” Spooky asked him, as if the question was a stupid one to begin with. “Time to answer for what you’ve done, Rel.”
“Man, it wasn’t my bullet that killed that boy. I swear it wasn’t!” Rel tried to tell them.
Jah doubled over with laughter. “You silly muthafucka, this ain’t about Crazy Eight. This is about you touching something that didn’t belong to you.”
Rel looked back and forth between the men, trying to figure out what was going on. He assumed that Jah was riding on him because of the botched hit, but he was telling him something different. He had done so many grimy things to people that there was no way to tell what Jah was talking about.
“Don’t look around like you don’t know what’s going on, you fucking rapist.” Jah kicked him in the face, knocking out his two front teeth. “That girl you and your homeys raped is someone very dear to me.”
Hearing the word “rape,” it all began to make sense. “Jah, I didn’t know she was your girl. Yo, when them niggaz started tripping, I’m the only one that tried to stop them,” Rel lied.
“Do I look stupid to you?” Jah placed his gun to Rel’s eye.
“Please don’t shoot me, man. I’ll tell you where Slick is hiding,” Rel tried to bargain.
Jah grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to his feet. “Not to worry, my dude, we already know where your man is hiding, and I ain’t gonna shoot you.”
“You’re not?” Rel asked, thinking it was a trick.
“Not at all, my brother. We’ve got something special for you,” Jah said, frogging him into the building while Spooky covered his back.
Scar watched from the bench, smiling, as the two men dragged Rel off into the building. What she had done was wrong, but no worse than what Rel had done. The way she figured it, the scales were now balanced. Tapping Sunshine to let her know it was time to leave, Scar made hurried steps out of the projects and hopped into a cab.
* * *
“This is some bullshit,” Rel said, standing on the roof of the projects ass-naked.
“What you talking ’bout, fam, you should be comfortable naked in your own house. This is your hood, ain’t it?” Spooky taunted him.
“Man, I thought y’all said you wasn’t gonna kill me?” Rel looked around nervously.
“I said we weren’t gonna shoot you.” Jah tucked his .40. “Your ass is about to get your first flying lesson.”
“Come on, son, don’t do me like this,” Rel pleaded. His eyes kept going from the fourteen-story drop behind him to the gunmen.
“I know damn well you ain’t begging? Spook,” he said and turned to his partner, “is this nigga begging?”
Spooky shook his head shamefully. “Sure sounds like it.”
“I can pay y’all. I got about two hundred grand stashed at Slick’s house. If you take me down to get it, it’s all yours.”
“Oh, we’re gonna take your money, but your ass is still out,” Spooky told him.
“Come on, man.
Don’t do me like this,” Rel pleaded, with tears running down his face. “I got kids!”
Out of nowhere, Jah slapped him across the face. “Fuck yo seeds, nigga! Did you give a fuck about your seeds when you were fucking Yoshi?”
“Yo, Jah—”
Jah slapped Rel again. “I don’t wanna hear shit you gotta say. Blue sky’s are calling.” Jah nodded toward the ledge. “You better get going.”
“My dude, I can’t jump off no roof,” Rel said.
“You’ll jump, or we’re gonna put so much lead in you that they’re gonna need a metal detector to find you,” Jah assured him.
Rel looked from the ledge back to Jah. Though being shot would be a most painful experience, it probably failed in comparison to falling from the top of a building. For the second time that afternoon, Rel found himself weighing his options. If he was going to die, he wouldn’t go without a fight. Using the element of surprise, he dazed Jah with a right to the chin. Spooky tried to help out, but Rel caught him with a two-handed strike to the gut. When he tried to run, Jah shot him in the leg.
Walking over to the now crawling Rel, Jah grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet. He wrapped one hand around Rel’s neck and gripped his testicles with the other. “You’ve got big balls,” Jah said to Rel, who was whimpering in pain. “And I’m not saying it to flatter you.”
“Mercy,” Rel croaked.
Jah’s face contorted into a mask of hatred. “Mercy is for the weak, and I don’t know nothing about being weak.” Tired of toying with Rel, Jah tossed him over the ledge.
* * *
The scream that pierced the quiet afternoon caused Slick to drop the bowl of cereal that he had been eating. He made it to the window just in time to see what he thought was a garbage bag streak past. Peering through the bars, Slick saw that it wasn’t a garbage bag at all. He threw up all over the floor at the site of his partner Rel lying on the ground below. The impact had shattered his skull and left a nasty mess.