“Whatever makes you happy, Mama,” said Ramona. She walked toward the door. Jesse followed.
Bethel stood up. “You're going to hell, Ramona. Straight to--” Bethel dropped her drink to the floor and put her hands to her head. “What-- I feel--” she said.
Then Bethel fell to the floor with a thud. Ramona took a hesitant step toward her mother, then stopped. Cheryl helped Bethel up and led her to the sofa.
“Oh... said Bethel, “what's-- what's wrong?”
“It's all right, Mama,” said Cheryl. “Just put a few sleeping pills in your drink.”
“You drugged her?” said Jesse. He took a moment to think about it, then said, “Nice move.”
“I couldn't let her turn you in,” said Cheryl. “She would have too. Listen you two, she'll be out all night, so go, run and don't come back here. It'll be too dangerous after this.”
Ramona hugged Cheryl tightly. “I love you.”
“Me too,” said Cheryl. “Now go on.”
“Thanks,” said Jesse.
Bethel was out cold on the sofa. Ramona looked at her mother, and her face filled with sadness. They left the little house, got into Cheryl's red Toyota, and drove away. Ramona drove the car toward the freeway entrance.
“Don't go on the freeway,” said Jesse. “The cops will have double patrols at night. We need to stick to the smaller streets. Even the avenues will be dangerous. It will take awhile, but it's safer.”
Ramona obeyed mutely. They drove without talking for a few miles. Then Ramona turned to Jesse and said, “I know what you're thinking. “
“Do you?” he asked. “What you're thinking is, no wonder I turned out so fucked up,” said Ramona.
“My family is fucked up too.” “Well,” said Jesse, “for once you're right. That's exactly what I was thinking.”
“Screw you,” Ramona said. She managed a smile.
“Look, everybody's family is messed up,” said Jesse. He knew what he was talking about. He wondered what Bernice and her kids were thinking about him through all this.
“If I hadn't shot that gun, my sister would still be alive.” Ramona's voice was filled with regret and pain.
“You don't know that,” said Jesse.
“Sometimes it's all I can think about,” she said. “I can barely look at a gun now. I was never like my friends. They were really hard, tough, you know. I was the brains, the planner. I had no business with a gun. I don't know what the hell I was doing.”
“I thought you and your mother were going to have a knockdown-drag-out fight,” said Jesse. “Wouldn't be the first time,” said Ramona. “After Daddy left, I got tired of her beating us, and we fought all the time.”
Jesse did not reply right away. He had something on his mind, but he didn't know if he wanted to share it with her.
“My oId man cut out on us too,” he said. “But my mother never raised a hand to us,” said Jesse. “It wasn't her way.”
“Lucky you. We got it all the time. Wooden switches, extension cords, leather belts.”
“You go to jail for that these days,” said Jesse, a little disturbed by what she was telling him.
“My mother blamed me for being born,” said Ramona. “Like if she had aborted me, she would have had a better life or something. I don't mind paying for my mistakes, but I'll be damned if I'll pay for being born. “
“She's just weak,” said Jesse. “My sister, Bernice, is the same way.” Jesse hesitated, then added: “She uses.” He had to force the words out of his mouth. Even now he felt ashamed of her.
“I'm sorry,” said Ramona.
“Me too. Bernice took the breakup of our family harder than I did. We were both on the wrong track, but she started partying, doing drugs, anything to forget her pain. Eventually she went out and found men like our daddy to sleep with. She was trying to change them, the way she couldn't change our father, but they left her too.”
A car approached them slowly down a dark street. The street was narrow, and Ramona veered over to the right to make room. The other car moved in front of her. She slowed down.
“Is it a police cruiser?” asked Jesse anxiously.
“Can't tell,” said Ramona. “It's too dark.”
The other car rolled toward them, then turned into a driveway on the right side of the street.
Ramona sighed. “Damn, this is making me old.” She drove to the end of the street and turned left. She crossed an avenue and went back to the side streets. “So you think maybe she's right?” asked Ramona. “My mother, that is?”
“About what?” asked Jesse.
“About my sister dying?”
“Don't do that to yourself,” said Jesse. “It was an accident.”
Ramona took her eyes off the road for a moment, looking at Jesse with great seriousness.
“Don't ever leave your family,” she said. She drove on without another word.
As they headed downriver, Jesse's heart was leaden with the turmoil of Ramona's family. It reminded him of his own family and how much he had already lost. They headed toward Packer's, and he promised himself that he was finished losing things. He was determined to get his life back.
12
Trapper’s Alley
Cane loved his new sunglasses. They covered his bad eye in public, and they darkened the world around him. This was the way life should be, he thought, tenebrous, a night world.
He walked the streets of Greektown, waiting for LoLo to show herself. It was night, and Greektown's sidewalks were thick with people of all races.
Cane walked along with Turk, who was carrying a leather backpack on his broad shoulders. Behind them walked two young rollers. A few blocks away Q was in a car with the engine running.
Greektown was a few city blocks filled with Greek restaurants, shops, and businesses. At night, when most cities came to life, Detroit died. Businesspeople, black and white, left, headed out of the city to their homes. It was almost like a daily “white flight” each evening. But Greektown and a few other places downtown defied that rule. People flocked to the area as darkness settled.
And so did the police. For Greektown to prosper, it had to be safe. 1300 was right around the corner, and so there was always an abundance of uniformed cops around. You couldn't go very far without seeing a couple of uniforms on foot or a cruiser making the rounds. And you never knew if there was a plainclothes undercover cop lurking in the smiling faces of some crowd.
This made Cane feel good. LoLo would not try anything here. And she probably felt that he would not either. But she did not know him very well. He desperately needed to do business with Minnesota before they decided he wasn't worth it. Cane had to raise some fast cash and get rid of her and her meddling bitches for good. This was a desperate situation, and he had to go to extremes.
Cane signaled, and the two young rollers broke off. Cane and Turk walked on, circling the block several times. He was about to try a different area when he saw LoLo. She was walking along with a big woman. They were headed toward Trapper's Alley, a sort of mini-mall of stores and restaurants.
Smart, Cane thought. A contained space lessened the likelihood that he would try anything. And she might already have a setup in there, he reasoned. Cane signaled to his men. Then he walked inside.
Trapper's Alley bustled with activity. The smell of food permeated the air. Laughter, music, and chatter bounced off the brick walls. Cane spotted LoLo and Yolanda at the back of a big crowd in the lobby.
Three jugglers were putting on a show for a large crowd, a comical distraction that happened once an hour or so. The crowd was in a big semicircle around the show. They laughed and applauded the jugglers, and they threw pins in the air. LoLo and Yolanda were stone-faced, keeping to the back of the crowd.
Cane moved over toward them, carrying the backpack on one shoulder. He watched the faces in the crowd, looking for LoLo's plants in any. As he did, Cane noticed a uniformed cop in the crowd. He was on the other side of the jugglers, by the door. Cane continued to m
ove toward the two women.
Marly was mingling in with the crowd. She saw Cane. As Cane passed her, Marly moved out of the crowd and circled behind him. She opened her big red purse, putting her hand on the weapon inside.
Cane's men, the two young rollers, entered the building and spotted their boss. They moved away from Cane, going closer to the uniformed cop.
Cane was excited but unafraid. The sun was gone, and so he was stronger. These women could not harm him, he thought. He would take them just as he had planned.
Cane and Turk moved closer to the women. Cane turned and pretended to say something to Turk while quickly slipping the gold razor he'd gotten from Minnesota into his hand. Turk shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
LoLo and Yolanda stared fiercely into the black lenses on Cane's approaching face. LoLo's arms were folded across her waist. Yolanda stood behind her boss, towering over the smaller woman. Yolanda's hands were shoved into the pockets of her big down-filled jacket.
Cane stopped about two feet in front of the women, close enough to see there was no fear in their faces.
“Where's my man?” he asked.
Tico sat motionlessly in the heavy wooden chair. Walker sat on the old sofa, holding a cellular phone. Tico knew something was up. The women were all gone, including Walker's girlfriend, Marly, and the house was unusually quiet.
“Tonight's the night, boy,” said Walker. “Tonight you'll learn all the mysteries of life.” “Kiss my black ass,” said Tico. “Let me out of this chair, and I'll show you a mystery.”
Walker got up and walked over to Tico. “When this phone rings, I'm gonna put a bullet in your brain.”
“Do it now,” said Tico. “Don't drag this shit out any more than you gotta.”
“Gotta wait,” said Walker. “The ladies have to make sure your boy Cane takes the bait. If I kill you and he don't take it, then it's my ass. “
Tico got the picture. They were trying to set up Cane. If they could lure him out in the open and hit him, then Walker would get the call. With Cane gone, he might as well give up the info on the money house or Walker would kill him.
“You can still save yourself,” said Tico. “Let me go now, and I'll square it with Cane.”
“Oh,” said Walker. “I hear a little desperation in your voice. Not so full of courage to die now, are you?”
“I should've known better than to trust a damn foreigner like you. You fuckin' Jamaicans ain't got no integrity whatsoever. You for sale to the highest bidder.”
“Watch your mouth now,” said Walker.
“I've been to Jamaica,” said Tico. “It ain't nothing but a second-rate, bullshit, backward-ass hole in the ground.”
“You don't know the island, dead man,” said Walker, growing tense. “It's a paradise.”
“That's why you left, right?” asked Tico. “ 'Cause it's a paradise. It's a shit hole, and you know it. People living in grass huts, eating dead dogs, living in their own piss and shit, that's Jamaica!”
Walker walked over to Tico and slapped him hard in the face. “You gonna learn not to disrespect my home,” said Walker. “You gonna learn to respect your betters. You lousy niggers here don't know nothing. Don't even know what you are. You're mostly half-breeds, the white man's seed running all through your race. You got no heritage, no history. All you got is sorrow, pain, and death.”
“Better than Jamaica, a third-rate country where women sell their babies for a loaf of bread,” said Tico. Walker pulled his gun and put it to Tico's head. Tico closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Enraged, Walker cocked the gun. A long moment passed. Then Walker laughed. “Nice try, boy,” he said. “You wanna go out easy, don't you? No. I'm gonna make sure you feel it when you die. I'll give it to you in the gut, so you bleed to death inside, drowning in your own blood. Or maybe I'll suffocate you, let you die while your eyes bulge and your lungs bum.”
Walker turned his gun around and hit Tico hard in the face with it. Tico's lip split, and blood sprayed from his mouth.
“Or maybe I'll beat you to death,” said Walker.
The door to the little room opened. Walker spun around quickly, raising the gun.
“Whatcha doin' here, boy?” Walker asked.
“Just chillin',” said Little Jack.
“Where my damn money?” asked LoLo. Yolanda's eyes were locked on Turk, looking for any sign of dangerous movement. Around them the crowd buzzed and laughed.
“My man Turk here got it right in that bag on his back,” said Cane. Then he added: “You little bitch.”
Two young girls, twins, in black leather jackets were standing nearby. One had braids dyed a bright blond; the other had short, spiky dreadlocks. They heard Cane's statement, then walked away from them, looking disgusted.
Cane edged back from the crowd. Turk followed, careful not to take his eyes off the women. Cane moved a few feet to an area next to a shop that was closed for the night. LoLo and Yolanda followed carefully. Turk took the backpack off and set it on the floor.
When Marly saw this, she walked over to where Cane and the twins had just been. She made sure not to make eye contact with LoLo and Yolanda. She took her place at the back of the crowd next to the twins in the black leather jackets. Marly pretended to watch the show. She was about ten feet away from Cane.
“Gimme my money,” said LoLo. “We can just stand here and jack each other off,” said Cane. “Or you can show me Tico.”
Cane's two men were still near the uniformed cop on the other side of the crowd. They started to talk louder, pretending to have an argument. The cop noticed them but did not stop the exchange.
“I'll take you to him,” said LoLo, “as soon as you show me what's in that bag.”
“Bitches,” said Cane. “I was killing men when you were still trying to figure out how your pussy worked. “
“Punk ass,” said Yolanda.
“I got your punk ass, you fat bitch,” said Turk.
“We can stand here and dog each other all night,” said LoLo. “Or we can do some business--”
A cop with a thick mustache walked in the back entrance and blended into the crowd next to Marly and the leather-jacketed twins.
LoLo's eyes darted over to the cop, and for the briefest moment she showed concern.
Cane saw the look on LoLo's face, and now he knew that she had a plan as well. A plant in the crowd. He was glad they could not see his eyes behind the dark glasses. That was his advantage. LoLo was scared because she had not expected that cop to come in. This was his chance to strike, when she least expected it.
“Okay,” Cane said. He lifted his arm into the air and scratched his head. “Gimme the bag, Turk.”
Seeing the signal, the two young rollers immediately began to fight. One of them pulled out a knife. The cop by the two men pulled his gun and rushed over. Someone screamed.
LoLo was distracted for a moment. Then her eyes returned to Cane, she saw the blur of Cane's swinging arm and a flash of gold.
Then things happened fast.
Little Jack walked over to the old sofa and sat down. Walker paid him no attention. Walker turned back to Tico and slapped him again in the face. Tico's face was bleeding and starting to swell around the lips.
“Damn,” said Little Jack. “Why don't you just shoot his ass?”
“I will,” said Walker. “I can't wait until this phone rings.” Walker put his gun away and walked back to the sofa. “Why you not down at Greektown with the women, boy?”
“Because I'm a man,” said Little Jack. He whipped out a gun, moving so fast that Walker was still in the process of sitting when the gun was pressed against his thigh. Little Jack pulled the trigger and blew a hole in Walker's leg. The Jamaican screamed and fell to the floor. Walker reached for his gun, but Little Jack was on him, putting his gun in Walker's mouth.
“Don't move,” Little Jack said. He reach
ed into Walker's waistband and pulled out his gun. “
Yeah! Yeah!” said Tico with elation. “Come on, little man, get me out of this chair!”
Little Jack backed away from Walker, who put his hand over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Little Jack walked up to Tico and put the gun barrel in Tico's face.
Tico looked into Little Jack's eyes. For a moment his happiness subsided. The young boy's face was grim, like a tiny, world-weary old man.
“You see what I'm doin' here?” asked Little Jack.
“Yeah, I see,” said Tico. It was okay, he thought. The young boy was just making sure Tico knew that he owed him. “Now cut me loose.”
“You remember this when we get back to your man,” said Little Jack.
“They gonna kill you, boy,” Walker said. His voice was covered in pain.
“Shut up, you funny-talking nigga,” said Little Jack. Then he put Walker's gun in his pocket, pulled out a knife, and cut Tico's binds.
Tico got up slowly. His joints were stiff from sitting for so long. He looked over at the little boy and found him holding up Walker's gun.
“Cane said you'd be wanting to get rid of him yourself.”
Tico took the gun, then put it in his waistband and picked up the heavy wooden chair he was sitting in. He had to strain to get it up.
“No, no,” said Walker on the floor. He tried to crawl away.
“Told you I was gonna kill you,” said Tico. He smashed the heavy chair on Walker's back with all his might.
The chair cut Walker's skin and broke bones. Tico struck again and again, until Walker's head was bloody and one of his arms was broken and disjointed. Tico was spotted with blood and breathing heavily.
“We gotta get goin' ,” said Little Jack.
“Right,” said Tico.
Tico pulled off a wooden leg from the chair. “Shoulda stayed your ass on the island,” he said to Walker. Walker groaned something that Tico couldn't understand.
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