Don't Hate the Player

by Brandie

We dapped each other up and gave each other love.

  “Tonight.”

  “I thought you were coming back late tomorrow?”

  “People change, plans change.”

  Dapping Money, Taeko sensed anger. “This nigga on some trip shit or what, Dawg? I feel ya; need some pussy, huh?” He laughed heartily.

  Anger was runnin’ hot through my veins. I had no time for jokes. “I need you to ride by Haven’s house.”

  A funny look took the place of his grin . . . like he knew something I didn’t. “Aye, Joi said she saw Haven at Red Lobster last night with some dude.”

  “Where is Joi?”

  “At her mom’s house.”

  “Call her up.”

  When Joi answered the phone, she sounded excited to hear from me, “Hey-y-y, Chocolate. I saw your layout in Vibe. You really look good!”

  My frown almost disappeared. Joi wasn’t a real nice woman. She was very nonchalant and cold-hearted, so any compliment she gave wasn’t to be taken lightly. “Thank you, Miss Lady. That means a lot coming from you. Taeko told me that you seen Haven yesterday.”

  “You know I don’t like gettin’ in y’all business, but she was wit’ a dude. He was tall, kind of thick, wit’ dreads.”

  “He didn’t look familiar?”

  “Up North-sounding guy,” she said, trying to sound like she was from up North.

  “Yeah, she from up North.”

  “Y’all having problems?”

  “Not yet—not until I reach her neck.”

  “I didn’t wanna say nothin’ earlier ’cause I saw how crazy you were about her, but she seemed sneaky from the get-go.”

  “All right then. Thank you, Joi.”

  “No problem.” Joi hung up the phone.

  “Why everybody always tryin’ to save face. Shit, if y’all feel or see something, tell a brother early in the game . . . so I won’t be stuck stupid later on,” I told my boys.

  I wanted to choke the shit out of her for embarrassing me, and about my goddamn money!

  “Aye, Chocolate, man, maybe you over-reactin’.”

  “Naw, Taeko. She low-down just like yo’ ho ass. A ho takin’ up for a ho,” Money said in a serious tone.

  “Fuck you, man,” Taeko defended himself.

  Money confirmed the rumors that I was hearing in the street. “Chocolate, you know this nigga fuckin’ that stewardess?”

  “Aaahh, Taeko.” I rubbed my head. “I thought you were over that shit, nigga.”

  He looked down at the ground. “Aye, the pussy good, and she don’t want shit but some good dick.”

  “Yeah, that’s in the beginning. They all willing to keep their mouth shut for some dick, but after a few months the price goes up.”

  “Well, she cool, and she know I’m not gon’ mess up my home for some ass.”

  Me and Money both looked at him. That nigga was hot in the drawers and screwing everything walking—and doing the shit right out in the open. I knew he wanted out of being with Joi, but his shit was gon’ catch up with him sooner than later.

  * * *

  By eight forty-five we’d made a plan and were riding in a borrowed black Chevy, like criminals staking out a house to rob. We pulled up two houses down from Haven’s house. A gold Tahoe was sitting pretty at the front door, blocking in Haven’s Volvo.

  “Damn, that shit sittin’ tight,” Taeko’s punk ass said to aggravate me even more.

  “Mann, fuck you and dat slimy bitch.”

  “Damn, nigga, you on some blow or sumthin’? Or you in love?” Money asked with real concern.

  “Love? Hell, yeah, wit’ my money! Let’s get this shit over with.”

  “You sure you wanna do this?” Taeko asked as he cocked his glock.

  “Damn right, I’m sure,” I answered as I pulled the black ski mask down, over my face.

  Money drove down the street, passing a few houses, and parked behind some trees.

  We went through the side door because it wasn’t hooked up to the alarm. We creeped in like thieves in the night. But I wasn’t looking to steal anything that didn’t already belong to me.

  We heard moaning and a thud from upstairs. “Sound like they in the bedroom,” I whispered to my boys.

  “I’m gon’ wait by this door. Taeko, go to the front door. All right, boy, go handle yo’ business,” Money whispered.

  I took off toward the steps. “Pssst,” Money hissed. “Don’t let your trigger finger slip. It ain’t that serious.”

  I waved him off. I had no intension on hurting anybody physically. But mentally was another story.

  I crept into the dark room. The moonlight shining through the blinds was my only guide. BACK THAT ASS UP by Juvenile was pumping from the stereo.

  “Yesssss, daddy. Fuck me harder, harder!”

  “You like this dick . . . it’s good to you, huh?”

  “Ssssss, ooooh, hell, yeah!”

  The nigga was stroking Haven so hard in the ass it looked like he was trying to create a new opening.

  In mid stroke, I stuck my gun between his ass cheeks. “What the fu—” He yelled, surprised to see me there.

  “Shut the fuck up, nigga!”

  “Ahhhh.” Haven screamed, jumping up like her ass was on fire.

  I pointed my Smith and Wesson dead at her face. “Bitch, lay yo’ ass down.”

  “Please, please don’t hurt me!” she cried.

  Through clenched teeth I told her, “Lay yo’ goddamn ass down!”

  “Ahh, man, my wallet . . . my wallet in my pants over there.”

  “Bitch, nigga. I ain’t ask you for yo’ money.” I hit him in the back of the head with the gun I’d just taken from between his ass cheeks.

  Holding his head, he said, “Damn, man! You ain’t have to do that,” he yelled out in pain.

  “Didn’t I tell yo’ pussy ass to shut the fuck up!” I turned my full attention to dude and shoved the same gun full of ass, down his throat. Haven took off running. I didn’t flinch because I knew my boys would handle her.

  He began to gag, but I wasn’t letting up, I kept a steady pressure. “I hope that ass is worth yo’ death.”

  He shook his head back and forth, shedding tears and gagging even more.

  In a split second, he vomited all over the gun, my glove, and himself. “Son-of-a-bitch!”

  “Plea . . . Dawg, don’t . . . kill me,” he pleaded.

  “Get up,” I demanded, shaking the vomit from my hand. He reached for his pants.

  “Naw, naw, leave ’em. Get moving.” I grabbed Haven a shirt that was lying on the floor by the door. I could hear Haven pleading for her life. I smiled hard under the hot ski mask.

  When we got downstairs, I pushed buddy onto the floor.

  “Kal, are you okay?” Haven asked through sniffles. I could see the love she had for this nigga all over her face, and in her voice.

  I threw the shirt into her face. “Put that goddamn shirt on.” She looked up into my eyes, back and forth to Taeko, to Money, back to me, like she knew something was familiar about all of us.

  “Put the muthafucka on!” I screamed getting frustrated at her unwillingness to obey my command. She quickly jumped to her knees and buttoned the shirt.

  Taeko walked over to Kal. “Get cho bitch ass up.”

  “Mannn, I’ll gi-gi-give ya’ll—” Kal stayed seated, butt naked, on the floor trying to plead for his life.

  Smack! Taeko slapped the shit outta him, grabbing him by his dreds. “Come on.”

  Money stood back, shaking his head at me and Taeko. He thought we were taking it to far.

  Taeko and Money marched Kal outside. Taeko was laughing all the way to the street.

  I pushed Haven up to the door so she could see the nigga she had chose over me.

  “Hopscotch, nigga.” Money finally decided to join in on the festivities.

  “What?” Kal asked, shaking, scared to death.

  “Hop, nigga—like a frog!” He hesitated, putting his hand over his di
ck. Taeko rushed him with the gun pointed straight to his forehead, “Take yo’ hand down. You wasn’t so shy when you was up in my man’s girl.” Kal started jumping around like a frog, dick swinging, and snot falling from his nose.

  “Sing, nigga.” Money demanded.

  “Sing . . . what? Man, I don’t care ’bout that bitch. I was just using her for money and ass.” Still sniffing, he pleaded, “Please, let me go.”

  Taeko and Money looked back at the door, satisfied with their job.

  “What!” Haven screamed. “I was using yo’ ass. I got a man, bitch.”

  “Naw, baby girl, you use to have a man.” I pulled the ski-mask off. She gasped, becoming big eyed, “Chinoe, I can explain.”

  “Just go get all my paperwork.” I was unbelievably calm.

  She ran to her home office and returned with three thick folders. “It’s all there. Baby, listen—”

  “Baby? Fuck you!” As I attempted to leave, she was fast on my heels, pulling on my shirt, pleading with me to stay.

  She tripped and fell, crying, and I kept walking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She jumped up, catching up to me, grabbing my shirt again.

  “I’m done!” I shouted. “You can’t explain yo’ naked ass in the air.” I snatched away from her, pushing her down hard onto the sidewalk. “Stay the fuck away from me!” Women always say if you play with pussy, you get fucked. Don’t they know if you play with a real nigga, you get fucked harder?

  * * *

  The next evening after a restless night of sleep, I went to Mama’s house. I knew Sap would be there. I needed to see her pretty, innocent, little face. She was always a breath of fresh air.

  When I pulled in the driveway my mother, father, Papa Loane, Sap and Trinket were sitting on the front porch.

  I tooted the horn. Sap and Trinket ran to the car.

  “Get your butts back up here. Chocolate’s coming,” my mother yelled, getting after them as usual.

  “Hey, Babe, how was your session?” She greeted me with a kiss and a hug.

  My dad gave me a handshake and hug. He’d been out of town four months scouting new cars for the new millennium. He looked thinner. “Hey, dah, boy. How you been? You still playin’ the pretty-boy role?” We laughed as he stole a punch to my chest. “You ain’t too pretty to fight now, are you?”

  I put my fist up. “Naw, old man. All this yard to whoop you in, you better be careful. You look a little underfed without your woman’s cooking. Don’t let this pretty face fool ya.”

  “Oh, boy, come over here and let Grandma Loane see you.” Mama Loane hugged me and rubbed my face. “I’m so proud of you boys. Y’all keep on moving on up in this mean ol’ world—and leave them white women ’lone.”

  “Grandpa Loane, what she yelling about?”

  He gave me a hug and patted me on the back. “We hear Tae runnin’ wit’ white women.”

  “I don’t know how he could risk the life he’s made with Joi for some trash in the streets whether she’s black, white . . . or any race. Black men always think black women want them for their money. Shoot, y’all better start thinking about whose going to stay down with you when y’all broke and don’t have a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out of. These white women see big penises, dollar bills, and no brains or common sense.”

  My momma went into the kitchen and fixed herself some tea, while continuing to voice her opinion. “White women get the black men that have been suited-up with forgotten struggles. What happens if things fall short—I mean like money and fame. Most of these women aren’t used to eating mayonnaise or cheese sandwiches every day of the week. Swallowing it down with sugar water, and that’s if you got any, sugar or running water. Y’all young black men better think about it—is all I’m saying.” She sipped her tea, shaking her head. Probably remembering when she was a young girl and had no water or lights for weeks at a time.

  “I haven’t heard anything yet, Ma.”

  “I’m sure you will soon. If not from him, then from the news. They love to broadcast when one of their own has snatched up a young, dumb nigga that got a lot of new money with the same old mentality.”

  It was going on 6 p.m. and it was time for Sap to take her bath. This would give me time to see what my dad and Grandpa Loane thought of my situation.

  “Sapphire and Trinket, come on and eat so you can take your baths,” my mom yelled from the kitchen.

  “Do we have to, Grammy?” Sap pouted.

  My mom made her way from the kitchen quickly. “What have I told you about asking me questions after I have told you what to do young lady? Now pull those lips in and hop to it.”

  She blinked her big eyes and ran over to me. “Love you, Uncle Cha-late.”

  Trinket gave me a hug and sneaked in, “Where is our surprises?”

  “Surprises? Ummm, let me go see.”

  My Navigator was full of surprises and presents for everyone. My dad came to the truck to help. “Damn, son, did you buy up New York?”

  When we got everything in the house, my mother had her hand on her hip, and her lips pursed together because I was overruling what she’d told the girls to do. She started smiling when I pulled out her purse. I winked my eye at the girls.

  Mama Loane started modeling her purse. Grandpa Loane sported his brown, leather Avirex bomber. I got my dad the same one in Black and a designer traveling briefcase.

  The girls were jumping all over me. “Uncle Cha-late, give me mine!”

  “Yeah, Uncle Chocolate, give me mine, too!”

  “I don’t know if I have anything for two little girls.”

  “YES, YES, YES!” they sing.

  I pulled out their dolls and sweat suits. They grabbed them, hugged me, and ran to Sap’s playroom.

  My mom clapped her hands. “Un, un, girls, bath’s first.” They headed to the bathroom, dropping their smiles and happiness before they begin.

  That little girl was my life. Sap always had a home with my mom and me, forever. We had built our lives around her. Our schedules, money, and hearts are hers for life.

  Trinket was just as special to us, but she had a mother and father that provided a stable home for her—thus far.

  After I finished playing Santa Claus, I motioned for the men to come into the great room. I poured my dad a glass of Absolute and orange juice, and Grandpa Loane some Christians Brothers, as I mentally prepared to rack their minds for answers to some overdue questions.

  “Aye, I got a question for y’all old heads.”

  “Boy, I might be a few years older than you, but I’m still young in some places that you still got to grow up.” My dad winked.

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” I winked back at my dad. Taking on a more serious demeanor, I said, “It’s been a long time since we’ve sat down and had a talk about life, you know, like what’s been going on since all this fame.”

  “Y’all boys don’t sit still long enough to bat a eyelash.” Grandpa Loane joked.

  “Well, what’s on your mind, Chocolate? Sounds like something bothering you.” Grandpa Loan got straight to the point.

  “Is there ever a time for a man to get tired of going from woman to woman and it be all right? I mean want to settle down and be with one special person.”

  They both looked at each other and then at me. My dad went first. “Son, if you have to ask yourself or anyone that question, you already know the answer.”

  “I mean, yeah, I know what I think, but I want another opinion.”

  “Your opinion is all that matters, Chocolate. Other people’s opinions are for themselves, or a jealous venture to keep you away from what you really want.”

  “But I will tell you one thang, sex don’t make the man, the man makes the sex. And sex ain’t the only thing that’s gon’ make that special woman wanna stay wit’ cha.” My dad broke it down.

  After everyone was gone, I decided to stay at my mom’s for the night. Before retiring to the guestroom I went to my old room. It’d been turned into Sap’
s room. I stood in the doorway and reminisced.

  It seemed like yesterday when me and Caymin were about to make history in that room. I really dug that girl. I wondered what she was doing now. Probably married with four or five kids.

  Sometimes I wish I had made love to her that night. I could still smell her; feel her soft body rubbing up and down on mine. The look on her face as she sat on top of me would forever be imprinted in my memory.

  It was a shame that we lived in the same city for all these years and hadn’t bumped into each other.

  Sap came up behind me and grabbed my leg, hugging it tight.

  “What’s up, pumpkin?” I picked her up squeezing her tight, giving her a big kiss. “Love you, Sap.”

  She hugged her short little arms around my neck then put her little hands on my face. “Love you, Uncle Cha-late.”

  “Where is Trinket?”

  “Sleeping wit’ Grammy.”

  Kissing the tip of her nose, I told her, “You should be ’sleep, too.”

  She nodded her head yes, not really meaning it.

  I walked into the great room and lay back in my favorite chair with Sap cuddled up under my arm. I felt like she was mine, my child, my responsibility, my life. Sometimes I wish it were me that Luvly got involved with. She and Sap would have had the best of everything.

  * * *

  I called Money to see if it was still on for tomorrow night.

  “Talk to me.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, just chillin’ with these honeys.”

  “Who?”

  “Nigga, you don’t know ’em, but they got a couple of friends. And they dancers, too, thick as hell!”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What ’er home girls lookin’ like?”

  “It’s this one that’s cute as hell. She got that long hair like you like, a white smile, and not to mention thick as hell. But she quiet as hell, keeping her clothes on, staying to herself.”

  “Sounds good. Sounds good. Where she at?”

  “They all downstairs in the basement.”

  “Damn, Money, you got all of them in the Jacuzzi?”

  “That’s what they asked for. You need to come on over.”

  “Yeah, I will. I need to do something to take my mind off this shit.” I forgot all about Sap being under me.