by L. E. Newell
Sparkle got up and walked over to the desk and started to fondle the package. “It’s that good, huh. Check this out, dog, makes you kind of wonder why he didn’t say anything about it when he was with us last night,” he said as he looked over at Rainbow.
“But he did say something about it. Yo ass was too busy getting triple teamed by the girls. Shit, you wouldn’t have heard a bomb go off,” Rainbow joked.
Junior started tapping his cane on the floor impatiently. Rainbow took the package out of Sparkle’s hand, started fondling with it himself as he walked over and kicked his cane. He spat, “What, nigga, what?”
Junior slapped the cane against his ankle. “Man, what you babysitting that stuff for? Let’s do this.” He hobbled over to a picture of MLK and the Kennedy brothers on the wall, unhooked it off the wall and started working a combination on a circular wall safe. Then he reached inside and lifted out a brown leather shaving bag, hobbled back to the desk and placed the bag on it.
Mack unzipped it as Junior went to the bathroom to get a glass of water. Then he pulled out a couple of test tubes and hypos soaking in a Ziploc bag full of alcohol, as well as a couple of hypos still in their wrappings. He placed the items on the desk. “Which way ya’ll niggas wanna go? Help yourselves. I prefer oiling myself.” He started scooping some of the powder into a big silver spoon.
Sparkle waited until Junior had registered a hit before he reached into the kit and took out one of the tubes and a baggie of baking soda. He scooped a healthy lump of the coke, along with some of the baking soda and water, into the tube. Then he shook it up hard and started to put a lighter to it. Junior tapped him on the elbow with the cane. “Yo, Sparkle baby, try this mixture here in it.” He handed him a pill bottle full of liquid.
Sparkle eyeballed the bottle for a moment before he lowered the lighter, arched his eyebrows and asked, “What the hell is this, soldier?” as he rotated the bottle in his hand.
Junior retrieved the bottle and poured some of the liquid into the test tube. “It’s Seagram’s gin and lemon extract. Your boy Duke recommended that; it’s supposed to remove all of the impurities out of the coke, increase the size and make it rock hard all at the same time.”
Rainbow, who had been angling his head back and forth to get the best view of what they were doing, asked, “For real, yo?”
Junior eyed him for a second before he took the tube out of Sparkle’s hand and put the lighter to it. “Uh-huh, shit works, too. Try it both ways and see for yourself.”
Sparkle lifted the tube out of his hand and dumped a big rock out on the table. He then rocked up the same amount in the usual way with water and baking soda. After he was finished, he dumped the rock beside the other one for a comparison. After watching them nod in approval, he chipped off a small piece off of each rock and passed it to them.
They lit up one behind the other. After hitting the one with the so-called special mixture, Rainbow rushed straight to the bathroom and threw up. He came out a moment later wiping sweat off of his forehead. “Owee, whew, man, that stuff is the bomb, for real.”
There was no way that Junior could let him off so lightly, so he spat jokingly, “Go ahead, try a bigger piece the next time. I love the way ya’ll wannabe hard-ass niggas be stepping beyond what you can stand,” just before he injected the plunger into his vein. He didn’t even get the chance to jack the plunger twice before his eyes flew wide open. He jumped up, speed hobbling to the toilet, too, yanking the hypo out of his arm on the way.
Rainbow, Sparkle and Mack rolled with laughter as they listened to him gagging over and over again for what seemed like minutes. Soon he returned to the room drenched with sweat like he had just come out of the shower.
“You aight, dog? Looks like your old ass overdid it yourself.” Sparkle said as Junior hobbled to the couch and flopped down with his legs spread far apart. After taking a few deep breaths, he started wiping the sweat off of his face. “Wooooo, weeeee, man, that’s it right there; that’s it, for sho. What was that you called this shit? Where in the hell did he hunt some shit down that potent? I thought I was going to die in this bitch for a second there,” he wheezed between gasps of breath.
“You right, Sparkle; that nigga could’ve or should’ve let ya’ll know what the deal was with this here. A nigga could die fucking with too much of this here. Mmmmmppphhh and ya’ll was with his fat ass last night. Hell yeah, he should’ve let ya’ll know about this here.”
Mack took a small blast. “Man, he was on his way down there when he dropped by about a half-hour before ya’ll showed up here.”
Rainbow was finally able to straighten himself out enough to join in. “So that’s what he was in so big a rush to get to.” He paused to look at Sparkle, who arched his eyebrows in confusion as to why big boy hadn’t come out on the real with them while they were together. “Dog, that’s why I left the room earlier than I wanted to, because he wanted me to go over Cynt’s house with him. But I knew that I couldn’t do that, not with you waiting on me.”
Sparkle took a blast with one of the glass shooters, then brushed a hand across his head. “Damn, I should’ve known it was something because you wouldn’t have just left me like you did unless something was up.” He didn’t really want to feel that way about his boy but he had to wonder why Duke was acting all secretive.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Violet and Mercedes: Wives-in-Law
As they were getting into their groove, there was a sharp rapping on the door, followed by the sound of a mumbling feminine voice. “Aight ya’ll bastards, let a ho in this bitch.” She began shaking the knob noisily when no one answered.
Junior, who was right in the middle of getting a third jack off the hypo, cocked his head to the door and growled, “Mack, let that old loud-ass bitch in, dog. Damn, she be fucking a nigga’s high up with all that banging.”
Mack, who was plucking his arm, trying to find a fresh vein to go in, looked at him over the rim of his glasses and said angrily, “Shit, I’m the one in the wheelchair. Get yo ass up and hobble over there and get it yourself, damn.”
Junior snatched the hype out of his arm, frowned at his dog and started hobbling over to get the door. He looked back at them and then whispered through the crack in the door, “Damn, ‘V,’ can’t you see that a nigga be busy up in here? Why you think we got the muthafucking door closed?”
She snapped on him immediately, “Why the fuck you think I knocked on it for? I must have some business with your dirty ass, nigga.” He only got the chance to crack it a nudge before she barged her way past him with a pair of large shopping bags tucked under each arm. Her hips swaying out of control, she sashayed over to the desk and dumped the contents out of one of the bags on top of it. “I know that ya’ll cheap-ass bastards wanna see some of ya’ll girls in some of this fly-ass shit here.” Then she spun around like she was a grand dame at the ball and braced her ass and both hands on the desk.
It took her a few seconds before it dawned on her who all was sitting on the couch. When she did, she folded her arms across her chest and said directly to Sparkle, “Damn, player, seems like everywhere that I be you be; looks like we headed for a collision course.”
“Looks that way, don’t it,” Sparkle replied, feeling like all eyes were on him. They were, with Rainbow being the main nosey body.
She batted her eyelashes at him daintily, smiled and then reverted her attention toward Mack as she started taking items out of the other bag, “Check out the tags, man. Ain’t nothing there under three hundred dollars, high-quality stuff as usual.”
Junior reached around her to pick up one the flimsy garments. “Yeah right, like we don’t know that you keep boxes of these tags at your crib. Come on, ‘V,’ this be us, yo.”
She snatched the garment out of his hand and pushed the tag up to his eyes. “Well, check this stitching out, smart ass, Ain’t nobody got no machine to baste tags in there like that ’cept the factory where they was made.”
Mack continued to sift
through several items as he arched one eyebrow at her. “Uh-huh, like your slick ass don’t come up with new twists all the time with your good-playing ass.”
She picked up one of the outfits and started fondling it as she leaned over the desk and gave him one of her warmest smiles. “Naw, dog, for real, man, you know how I keep it real with ya’ll. Shit here be the real thang, right off the rack real. I just hit that real high-quality store next to the Peachtree Plaza, taint nothing but Victoria’s Secret stuff up in there.” She continued to spread the stuff across the desk. Finally she sat a hip on the edge of the desk and added, “Tell ya what, that there is ten outfits, guaranteed to have these freaky muthafuckas jacking on they shit while the girls flaunt the stage in all this hot-ass gear. Give me a c-note for each of them.”
Mack leaned back in his chair and held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, godayum ‘V,’ where you got the gun hidden because this has got to be the best robbery technique that a nigga done come through with in a century. I thought we were your friends, girl.”
She certainly wasn’t about to go for that lame-ass game there. So she brightened her smile another hundred degrees, circled the desk and put her arm across his shoulder. She pressed her cheek next to his and said sweetly, “Baby boo, don’t be so hard on your peeps, playa. You know damn well she got to make some groceries.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, and I guess it’s mainly for that oversized youngun of yours JoJo.”
There it was, the opening she had been on alert for. “Aaaah, you do love your godchild, don’tcha?” she purred.
“Of course I love that big-headed boy, but look what that nigga T-boy did with that stuff you sent us that last time.”
She leaned away from him and frowned. “Come on, Mack, you know that nigga switched that stuff on his own. I would never tell you some quality stuff is on the way and it not be what I say it is. That fool played both of us on that one there and you know it. And fuck that nigga T-boy from now on. His half-slick ass played me fucked up on some other stuff just the other day too. Come on, we both thought that fool was aight.” She pouted and sat on the edge of the desk.
Junior started laughing from the couch. “Nigga, can’t be that much of a chump if he played both of ya’ll; especially you, the queen.”
Violet tooted her nose up at his sarcasm. That Junior always found a way to pinch her last nerve.
Mack gave a short snort, pinched his nose and said, “Tell you what, V-girl.”
She laid her head on her palm and whined, “Oh-oh, when this nigga hits me with the V-girl, you can bet some bullshit is about to follow. Go ahead, tell it.”
Mack pyramided his arms on the desk, then rested his chin in the crock of his hands. “Naw, baby girl, this here is on the real. See that shit there on the table?”
She looked at the package on the coffee table, got up and walked over to get a closer look before she looked back at him over her shoulder. “Man, that look like some of that new shit floating around, so what’s the deal, yo. I have never seen any pink stuff like that before.”
Junior raised himself up on the cane and leaned on her shoulder. “That’s because ain’t none of it done really hit the ATL before now. Dat nigga Duke hit us off with that the other day, told us to spread the word around to our folks. But shit be so good we just been doing a little private hitting, didn’t want that nigga Don asking us all kinds of stupid questions. You know how that youngun and his wild-ass crew can go on the silly for little or nothing sometimes, thinking he’s the only one who is supposed to have the good shit and all. But fuck that, go ahead, girl; take yourself a good hit of that piece our boy Sparkle just cooked up.”
She wasn’t used to tight-ass nigga Junior offering a bitch anything but a hard time, so she was more than a little shocked when she realized that he was dead serious about her getting one. But fuck that, she sure didn’t have to be told twice. So before he could change his mind, she reached into her bra and extracted a gold straight shooter, picked up what amounted to a good dime rock, hit it and just like the rest of them rushed to the bathroom hurling and gagging. And just like Rainbow she came out sweating raindrops, gasping, “Uh-huh, oh yeah, that be some real shit there, boy, for sho.”
After she stammered back to the couch fanning her face, Mack wheeled himself over to face her. “Tell you what, fly gal, we’ll put you a grand worth in hundred-dollar slabs in a Ziploc and take all of those cheap-ass outfits off your hands, since you went through so much trouble calling yourself looking out for us.”
She squinted her face up and cocked her head to the side as if she was really contemplating the offer. Everybody in the room knew damn well that she was going to go for it.
One look at that glitter in her eyes and Mack was sure. He wheeled back over to the desk and picked up one of the skimpy outfits and displayed it for the fellas.
Hell, she knew she was going for it, but she took her time anyway. She purred in a doped-up hazy voice, “Sounds about right, but make sure that ho Pocahontas gets that red sequined one because I was thinking about her when I got it. Also because she made me promise to get her one.”
Mack smiled as he picked up the outfit and started fingering it. “Oh yeah, I can see her bubble butt getting really funky in this one here. Whatcha think, boys?”
All three of them niggas hollered, “Hell yeah,” before it even got out of his mouth good.
Junior hobbled over to pick up a couple of them. “Uh-huh, them horny-ass girls be causing a lot of nut busting with these thangs here.” He looked over at Violet conspicuously, “You sho your slick ass ain’t hooked these things from one of these other shake-a-booty clubs around here. We don’t want no other bitches trying to stir up no bullshit around here, know what I’m saying?”
“Fuck you, Junior,” she said before mumbling, “That’s why yo short ass crippled up now, always throwing shit around.”
He whirled on her growling, “Whadda fuck you say, ho?”
She blinked innocently. “Taint said a thang, dog, ain’t said a thang.”
“I thought so, bitch.”
“I got yo bitch leaning on that there cane, bastard.”
“What?”
“Nothing, man, nothing. Go ahead, handle your biz, dude.”
“Mmmphh, I thought so,” he said before he walked back over to the coffee table, snatched the dope up and went to the desk to start scooping some of the coke onto a digital scale. Mack replaced the outfits in the bags and wheeled over to a closet that was not even noticeable if one wasn’t actually looking for it.
When she got the bag of dope from Junior, she rolled her eyes at him and sat beside Sparkle on the couch. She purred, “How about rocking us up a good chunk of this, baby,” as she wiggled her hips up against him.
He smiled and said coolly, “Taint got a problem with that there, sweetie, no problem at all.” He walked over to the desk and picked up the bottle of special mixture and shook it at her. “This here’s some special liquid some of my dogs claimed that they hipped me to. I came up with it but you know how some niggas are, want to be on top of everything.” He looked around the room smiling as he started putting it altogether.
She leaned forward on the couch. “What is it?” as she reached for the bottle.
He arched his brow and waggled his finger as he sat back down beside her. Then he winked at the guys. “Can’t give away all my secrets, sweetie, but it’s guaranteed to swell yo shit up bigger and harder too. Just take your nigga’s word for it, okay.”
She sat back on the couch feigning dejection, folded her arms and snorted. “Go ahead and do your thang, playa.”
He nodded to her show of respect and proceeded to rock up several twenty pieces, broke off a nice chunk and put fire to it to get it started before he passed it to her to finish up. Then he leaned back and said, “Girl, if you gonna be hanging out with me, you got to drain the stem. With me it’s a straight trip to Scottieville.”
When she hesitated, he sat up and reached for the shooter, which
she handed to him right away. Good girl, she’s showing that I’m the man in front of these niggas; I like that, Sparkle thought while he put fire to the shooter and sucked until there was no smoke filtering through the tube. Then he hung his head on the back of the couch and slowly exhaled the smoke in wispy halos.
Violet waited until he was totally relaxed before she said, “Damn, baby boy, I ain’t used to killing it all on one draw.”
He sat up, put his hand over his mouth and fought off the urge to hurl before he gave her a stern look. “Well, get used to it, sweetheart, because I’m a go-for-broke type of guy and my honey has got to be the same way, you feel me?” He wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Okay, I’ll try it your way, If I go out make sure my boy JoJo kisses my coffin,” she said shyly and waited for him to fix her up another hit.
“That’s my girl.” He smiled and started fixing her one.
She lit it up, eyeing him the whole time as she sucked up the whole hit. The smoke was starting to thin out when she pulled off and grabbed her heart. While she was exhaling, he dove straight on her mouth and slid his tongue deep into her throat. He reached down to grasp her by the hips to pull her closer to him. She willingly melted right into him. When he finally pulled back, she was sweating and gasping for air. Her chest was still heaving as she wheezed, “Owee nigga, whatcha trying to do to this old lady? Godayum.” Her eyes were filled with lust.
He got all up in her face, so close that their noses were pressed together. “Trying to pin down a star bitch; you got a problem with dat?” Then he grabbed her by both arms, leaned arm’s length back and added, “You got enough left in you, old gal, to go on a joy ride with a wild nigga?” He looked straight through her eyes into her soul.
She could only sit there, mouth agape, staring at him all gooey-eyed for nearly thirty odd seconds before she lowered her gaze. “You sure you want an old bucking mule like me. Because I can be a handful.”