The Apostles

by Y. Blak Moore

  “I know, I know. I'll be there. Just check the luggage and wait for me in the first-class lounge. Get you something to eat so you won't be cranky. See you soon.”

  Solemn Shawn closed the flap on his cell phone and tossed it on the seat. Like an Indy 500 driver, he steered his truck through afternoon traffic. The throaty roar of the chrome-tipped Harley-Davidson exhaust pipes sounded like a small fighter jet as he gunned his way through every available opening in traffic.

  “Damn!” he said aloud. “I got to really make good time to not miss this flight. I'm gone have to park at the airport too. Playing with Lil Shawn and that doggone go-cart.”

  He had unintentionally let the time slip away as he played with his nephew. Now he still had to make it to A-Land and from there to Midway Airport in forty-five minutes. He wasn't worried about getting his money from the game room, he was more concerned about retrieving Vanessa's engagement ring. It would make their trip less than perfect if he couldn't present her with it during their stay in Tacoma. Just the thought of her reaction brought a smile to his face.

  “Sometime today, lady,” he said to the driver of a Suzuki Tracker who seemed to have fallen asleep at the red light. “C'mon, c'mon.”

  Deftly he maneuvered around the Tracker and pulled a series of harrowing passing moves that allowed him to make it to A-Land in less than ten minutes.

  All of the parking spaces on the block were taken, so Solemn Shawn decided to double-park in front of the game room. He was putting on his hazard lights when he saw a police cruiser coming up the block. The cruiser pulled alongside his truck.

  “You can't park here,” the officer on the passenger side announced.

  “I'm just running in the door for a moment,” Solemn Shawn countered.

  “If you leave it, we'll ticket it.”

  “I'll just be a moment, Officer,” Solemn Shawn promised.

  “I don't care. If you leave it, I'm ticketing you.”

  “Fuck me!” Solemn Shawn said as he threw the truck into gear. He whipped around the corner, into the alley, and pulled up in the rear of the game room. Careful not to block the alley, lest the haters try to write him a ticket, he parked and got out. A quick search of his key ring yielded the key to the back door of the game room. He inserted the key into the lock and tried to turn it. When it resisted he remembered this lock always stuck a little, so he jiggled the key until the tumblers gave way.

  “Bezo!” he called as he stepped inside the rear room of A-Land. As he closed the door behind himself, a black Oldsmobile Aurora with tinted windows stopped to check him out.

  Behind the wheel of the Aurora, Vee said, “I knew that was that nigga's truck, Cave. Did you see that? That was Solemn Shawn.”

  “Who?” Cave asked nervously.

  Vee was plainly excited as he reversed and pulled into the alley. “Nigga, Solemn Shawn. That's the number one Apostle. We done caught this nigga slipping. He by hisself and parked in a alley. You got yo heat, little nigga?”

  “Yeah, I got my pistol,” Cave answered.

  “Good,” Vee said as he pulled alongside the building beside A-Land. He parked so he could watch Solemn Shawn's truck. “Little nigga, when that stud come out the door hit his ass up before he get in that truck. I mean empty that blowpipe, nigga. You a killer, right?”

  “Hell yeah, I'm a killer,” Cave said with way more confidence than he felt.

  “Well, you better bake that nigga then or we gone Cold War yo ass. You got me, little nigga?”

  “Don't even trip,” Cave said as he left the car. He was glad that he got out of the car before Vee could see his knees shaking. Quickly and quietly he ducked by the rear bumper of Solemn Shawn's pickup truck with his pistol in his hand.

  Inside the game room Solemn Shawn walked up to the candy counter. Bezo was sitting on a stool, juggling quarters in his hand while he watched an episode of Springer on a thirteen-inch color television atop the refrigerator. His arm was still in a sling.

  “Bezo, you didn't hear me calling you?” Solemn Shawn asked.

  “Nall, nigga,” Bezo said. “If I woulda heard you, I woulda answered you.”

  “You must be drunk,” Solemn Shawn observed.

  “Ain't nobody drunk, Shawn. The minute I don't jump to it here you go saying that I gotta be drunk or something.”

  “Have you been drinking?” Solemn Shawn asked plainly.

  “What that got to do with anything?”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “Nigga, yeah I been drinking, but I ain't drunk,” Bezo protested. “There's a difference between drinking and being drunk. If I was drunk, so what. I handles my business like I handles my liquor. Like old dude Eric the Entertainer say, ‘I'm a grown-ass man.' I'm yo elder. Fuck you mean, have I been drinking. Nigga, this a video game arcade not corporate America. So fuck it. I been drinking. Hell yeah, and I'm gone continue to drink, gotdamnit.”

  “All right, Beez. I ain't got time for this. I'm on my way to catch a flight and I'm running late. I came to get that ring and Dante left something here for me.”

  Bezo swayed to his feet. He pulled up the mat at his feet and used the edge of a spatula to pry up one of the floorboards. He pulled a white envelope and Vanessa's ring box from the hole in the floor and handed them both to Solemn Shawn.

  “Thanks, Beez. I gotta run.”

  “Hold on, boy. You ain't got to be nowhere that damn important that you can't give yo peoples a hug before you leave, nigga. Shit, with the way things going these days this might be the last time I see yo ass.”

  Bezo lurched over to Solemn Shawn and draped his arms around him. He planted a sloppy kiss on Solemn Shawn's jaw.

  “All right, Bezo,” Solemn Shawn said as he untangled himself from the drunken game room proprietor. “I gotta go, man.”

  “You take care, nigga. I love you!” Bezo called after him.

  Hurriedly, Solemn Shawn went through the back room and slid out the door. He stopped to lock the door and then popped the locks on his truck.

  The chirp of the pickup truck's alarm made Cave stand up and step from behind it. He leveled his pistol at Solemn Shawn's chest.

  Preoccupied with his time dilemma, Solemn Shawn didn't look up until he had walked all the way into the trap. He saw the gun in the hand of the young zit-faced boy too late. Time stood still as the young boy pointed the gun at him. He seemed to be waiting.

  “Pop that nigga!” Vee yelled from the car.

  Cave squinched his eyes and pulled the trigger.

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Solemn Shawn watched the gun leap and jerk in the boy's hand. Instantly he felt the most intense pain of his thirty-something years. Smoking holes, five in all, appeared as if by magic in his shirt. It hurt to breathe and at the same time he was gasping for breath. His stomach felt like it was on fire as his intestines began to bleed in on themselves. He sagged to the ground. The envelope and ring box he was holding fell from his hand as he clutched his stomach and chest. He rolled over on his side and balled up.

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Cave shot him in the back two more times, but he was past feeling pain now.

  “Little nigga, bring yo ass on!” Vee shouted from the car.

  Cave ran and jumped in the car. Vee pulled from behind the building. He stopped alongside Solemn Shawn's body and opened his car door to look down at his old nemesis. Solemn Shawn wasn't moving. Vee started to pull off, but he saw the ring box, and envelope on the ground. Ignoring the envelope, he scooped up the ring box and opened it. The dazzling brilliance of the diamond engagement ring almost blinded him.

  “Gotdamn,” Vee said. “Shit, he just saved me the trouble of buying Sakawa an engagement ring.”

  “Let's get out of here, Vee,” Cave said shakily.

  “Yeah, you right,” Vee acknowledged as he burned rubber ou
t of the alley.

  Solemn Shawn lay there as his blood began to pool around him on the alley floor. His body was hurting so badly he wanted to cry out, but he couldn't remember how to make his voice work. Vanessa is gone act a fool if I miss that flight, he thought. I bet when she see her ring she won't be tripping too hard, he said to himself as he passed out.

  As Vee's car passed the garbage Dumpster near the end of the alley, Odell ducked down as far as possible, praying that the men in the car wouldn't notice him. He had seen everything. Although he didn't know the shooter, he most definitely knew who Vee was. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he got from behind the Dumpster and approached the body on the alley floor. He had thought it was, but now that he was closer, he could see it was Solemn Shawn the boy had just executed.

  “Damn!” Odell said. He turned to make himself scarce before someone else happened upon the body, but something slapped against his leg. The envelope that Solemn Shawn had carried had been blown against his leg by the wind. Curious, Odell bent and picked up the envelope. As he turned it over he saw the corner of a check. Peering into the envelope he saw numerous checks with very large dollar amounts on them. Without hesitation he broke into a dead run. He didn't stop until he was six blocks and four streets away.

  Once he was absolutely sure he hadn't been followed or noticed, Odell riffled through the contents of the envelope. He actually pissed on himself when he realized that he had in his possession certified cashier's checks in the amount of two hundred thousand dollars. The urine stain didn't matter, he was already wet from washing cars all day. Instantly he became paranoid. It was time to go home— his woman would know what to do with the checks. Wearing perhaps the biggest smile of his life, Odell started home.

  He'd walked a block when his smile disappeared. He stopped and dug through his pockets. Finally he found what he was looking for. Out of his pocket he pulled a mangled, soggy business card—Detective Hargrove's. The least he could do was drop the police a tip on who'd killed Solemn Shawn—that was the least he could do for two hundred stacks. He decided if he had to he would even go into the police station to pick the shorty out of the mug books. No, he was bullshitting himself. Wadn't no way he was going anywhere near the police station. Whatever he did would have to wait until tomorrow though; he had forty-seven dollars in tips he had to spend first.

  This time as he walked swiftly, Odell's head was held high.

  THE EMT LEANED OVER AND CHECKED SOLEMN SHAWN'S pulse again in the rear of the ambulance. It was very faint—almost nonexistent. Skillfully he used his scissors to cut open the wounded man's shirt. He had to gasp and shake his head at the still leaking bullet wounds.

  To his partner driving the ambulance, the EMT said, “No need to rush, Dave. This guy ain't gonna make it. Just another gangbanger going to hell.”

  Without opening his eyes, Solemn Shawn coughed blood onto the gurney and the ambulance floor. Struggling, he croaked out, “A-A-Apostles don't g-g-go to h-hell. We g-go t-t-to heaven.”

  The EMT let his training take over as he began to try to stabilize Solemn Shawn's vital signs. As he broke out an IV, he shouted, “Dave, get a move on, this guy might still have a chance!”

  The ambulance driver switched on the lights and sirens and mashed the gas pedal to the floor.

  But there was no need for sirens or speed as Solemn Shawn quietly slipped away to wherever dead Apostles go when they die.

  O TURNED THE STEREO IN HIS CAR DOWN. “IT'S BEEN CLOSE to six months since dude been gone and these niggas is still pushing,” he said. He hoped too much fear wasn't evident in his voice.

  Obviously there was because Vee barked, “Get yo panties out yo ass, nigga. You sound like a bitch right now. What you thought them niggas was gone do when somebody got rid of dude?”

  “I'm just saying, Vee, them Assholes ain't playing since dude got offed. We thought them studs was gone fold up, but they been wiling out. Shid, look at Teddy. That nigga in a wheelchair for the rest of his life and he got to wear a shitbag. They fucked him up.”

  Vee chuckled coldly. “Nigga, you up in here whining like you the one in the chair. Shid, that nigga is lucky. At least he still alive. I swear, you been acting like a real lady lately. Fuck them Assholes. All them niggas is gone be dead before I get through. I'm surrounded by soft-ass niggas. Just like that nigga Cave. Niggas be swearing they killers and shit, then when the pressure on they fold up. You know what, O?”

  “What?” O asked as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He just wanted to drop Vee off wherever he wanted to go and make it back to the safety of his apartment.

  “If I ever hear you talking all soft and girly like this again I'm gone Cold War yo ass and feed you to the Apostles. You understand that shit?”

  O didn't respond as he pulled up to a stoplight.

  “Nigga, do you understand what the fuck I'm tellin' yo ass? I swear, sometimes you act like you slow or something.”

  “Yeah, Vee. I hear what you saying,” O answered evenly.

  “Good then, nigga. Don't let this shit come up again. If it do you gone see that I ain't playing wit yo motherfuckin' ass. Now take me to Sakawa's crib.”

  As O turned the music back up, Vee reclined his seat even more and hoped that he had sounded more confident than he felt. Really he was only feeding off O's fear to make himself feel better. Inwardly he was frightened. After Solemn Shawn's death, the Apostles had decreed all-out war against his Governors. They had even sent a message that it wouldn't end until he, Teddy, and O were dead. They had almost delivered on their promise by catching Teddy and shooting him down like a dog. He survived only because he was wearing a bulletproof vest and was high off of raw cocaine.

  On top of all that, someone saw Cave gun down Solemn Shawn; there was an eyewitness. Whoever it was had fingered Cave, causing Bull and Grove to quickly run him down. In a stroke of luck, they even managed to catch him with the murder weapon. He had told that goofy-ass shorty to get rid of that heater. Almost immediately Cave gave him up to the people, telling them he ordered Cave to kill Solemn Shawn or he would have him killed. He had been dodging the police for a while now, but they were getting closer. They had been to his house and all of his family's houses. He rationalized that his best bet was to turn himself in and get a bond, which his lawyer guaranteed he would be able to afford.

  Lately he had been staying with Sakawa. In fact he found himself leaning on her more and more. Ever since he gave her the ring Solemn Shawn was carrying, he had pretty much gotten rid of the last of her inhibitions about fucking with him exclusively. If the ring didn't do it, when he brought the bulk of his wealth to her house, 140,000 dollars, that did. Sakawa was a motherfucker. She definitely had faded every woman he'd ever messed with.

  “Gotdamn,” Vee breathed aloud as he thought about the way she had invited him into her mouth last night.

  O leaned forward and turned the stereo down. “What?”

  Slightly embarrassed, Vee scowled. “Nothing, nigga. Quit driving like an old woman and get me to my girl's house with yo punk ass. And take me around the back.”

  O turned the radio back up. I got yo punk ass, he thought. Yeah I got you. Stupid-ass nigga, you gone get us all killt. I got something for yo ass.

  Vee broke through O's thoughts. “Nigga, watch where the fuck you going. The alley right there.”

  “My fault.”

  “I know it's your fault, nigga. And turn that gotdamn music down. I don't want every motherfucker and they mama looking out the window ‘cause of that loud shit when you dropping me off. I swear you get stupider and stupider every day.”

  O said nothing as he turned the stereo off. He pulled up to the back gate of Sakawa's apartment building.

  Before Vee got out, he said, “Make sure you have yo ass here at ten. I got to go see my lawyer. That means I got to be downtown by ten thirty at the latest. You got that?”

  O stared straight ahead down the alley. “Yeah, I got it, Governor. I'll be here at ten on the dot.�
�

  Vee got out and O drove away. A few blocks away he parked and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and pushed the Send button. His party picked up.

  “This is O. I want to talk,” O said on his end.

  “What the fuck we got to talk about?” the voice on the other end rasped.

  “Peace.”

  “Nigga, I know you ain't say peace. When we tried to talk about peace, you motherfuckas ain't wanna listen.”

  “That wadn't my decision. I wouldn'ta set up the meet if I didn't want to talk. That's why I'm calling you now to see if we can do something about this situation.”

  “Why the fuck should we give you Goofies peace? Our man is dead, nigga.”

  “What if I gave you Vee?”

  “What, nigga? Stop playing fucking games wit me.”

  Looking into the rearview mirror at his eyes, O repeated, “If I give you Vee will this shit be over?”

  There was a pause. After a moment, the voice asked, “Let's just say that Vee was out the way. Who would fill his shoes?”

  “Me. But I ain't on that beefing shit. I just want to get this money until my time comes, you know. A real leader doesn't lead his men to their slaughter.”

  On the other end, the voice laughed. “You got that right, nigga. Long as you keep it like that, there can be peace. That is if what seems to be both of our problem is out the way. So when can we get at dude?”

  “Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. No bullshit. Old dude will be naked. No bullshitting. Is it a go?”

  “Yeah, it's good. Remember our deal though, ‘cause I will,” the voice warned before disconnecting the call.

  “Vee! Get up! It's time for you to go,” Sakawa said roughly.

  “I'm up, I'm up,” Vee rumbled.

  “No you ain't. You said you had to leave at ten and it's nine fifty.”

  Rolling out of bed, Vee complained, “Why you just now waking me up?”

  Sakawa pulled his pillows over onto her face. “Nigga, you lucky I did. I just got up my damn self.”

  In the bathroom, Vee slammed the toilet seat up to relieve his bladder. He flushed and moved over to the face bowl. Grabbing a face towel from the rack he wiped his face. A quick toothbrush full of toothpaste later and he was back in the bedroom pulling on his clothes.