If it Aint One Thing it's Another

by Sharron Doyle

  The phone rang while Renee was watching the news. Who could be calling this early? It was Petie, telling her he had to see her. It was about the boys; he knew she would listen then. He told her to meet him at Pan-Pan’s so they could talk. Renee got dressed and headed to Pan-Pan’s in a cab.

  Petie patiently sat a block away in the Chrysler and watched Renee get out of the cab and enter the restaurant. He wanted to see if she was trying to set him up. He didn’t trust her, especially after what Roz had said. He watched Renee sit down and then come back out and stand in front of the restaurant. Then she called him on his cell phone. He told her to wait; he was on his way. He watched her go back inside and sit down.

  Petie got out of the Chrysler and locked the door. He put his backpack over his shoulder and hailed a cab. He paid the driver to back up to the front of Pan Pan’s. He got out of the cab and entered the restaurant. He spotted Renee sitting in a booth and went and joined her.

  Renee looked stressed out. ”There’s fifty thousand dollars in this backpack,” Petie said sitting it down next to her. ”It’s for my sons; don’t spend a dime of it on you—ya heard? And stop talking shit to them about me, Renee. What goes on between me and you ain’t got nothing to do with them. I want regular phone contact with them. I don’t need to speak to you, but don’t try and come between me and my little men—you’ll lose.” Before Renee could speak, Petie got up from the booth and bounced. He went outside and caught a cab back to the Chrysler and drove back up the block to the hotel.

  Patrice was in the shower when Petie got back to the room. He had paid the desk clerk for another day, just in case Roz didn’t have his new ID ready. He remembered her saying she needed a Polaroid picture.

  Petie watched TV until Patrice came out of the shower. He gave her a thousand dollars and told her to go to 125th and buy herself some clothes, two cell phones and a Polaroid camera. Patrice didn’t ask any questions; she just dressed and did what she was told to do.

  Petie called Renee. She answered on the first ring. ”I just wanted to make sure you got back in safely,” he told her. ”Now before you start asking me questions, don’t bother. Just get my clothes together, and I’ll meet you somewhere to pick them up. Pack up everything in the suitcases and make sure I got pictures of my men in there—ya heard me?”

  ”When and where do I meet you, Petie?” Renee asked. Petie liked that; she was keeping shit simple.

  ”As soon as possible at the Y on 135th up the block from where I just left you,” Petie said.

  ”All right, I’ll go back to the apartment and do it now. When I’m finished I’ll call you,” Renee said and hung up the phone.

  Petie called Roz and told her he would see her in the afternoon. He told her he was heading down south and that he would need the ID today. ”Don’t worry, baby boy,” she said.

  Petie hung up the phone, lay on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He had plans to see Darnell and Dante at their school. He figured he would go pick them up and put some money in their pockets. He wished he could take them with him, but he knew that was far from possible. Renee would make sure that they were all right. She was the best mother in the world as far as Petie was concerned. No matter what happened between them, he knew there was nothing he could say about her in that department. She lived her life for their sons ever since they were born. Petie gave her credit when it was due, and definitely when it came to their sons.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Ladelle woke up to go to work. He was anxious and hyped. He did-n’t tell Lydia about the money because he knew she would have started riffin, and he didn’t want to hear it. He felt bad enough already. But he would put the money to good use. He just had to.

  Ladelle kissed Lydia on the forehead and left her a note. I love U. C U 2nite, it read.

  Ladelle got in a cab and headed toward midtown. He called the insurance agent who was handling his claim on the Escalade. The agent told him that it was damaged beyond repair and they were going to replace it. Ladelle wanted to know when; it had been over a month. That shit should have been taken care of immediately. The truck had full coverage. What was the hold-up?

  The cab pulled up in front of Ladelle’s job and dropped him off. Some chick who worked in the area was standing outside smoking a cigarette. Ladelle knew she worked close by, but he didn’t know exactly where and didn’t care.

  ”Good morning,” she said to him licking her top lip.

  ”Yeah, good morning,” Ladelle replied. She put her cigarette out and followed him inside his building. Ladelle looked back at her. Scram, will ya? he thought.

  ”My name is Lisa—and you are?” she said giving him her sexiest come-fuck-me look.

  ”I am happily married with a baby on the way,” Ladelle said watching the sexy look melt off her face.

  ”Congratulations,” she said not really meaning it.

  Beat it, Barbie, Ladelle thought. That’s just what she looked like—fake hair, tons of makeup and showing too much skin. Ladelle never did like chicks like that. Without the makeup they looked like shit. He liked his chicks natural. He started to tell her to go and find a pole to dance on.

  Ladelle got to work, punched in, changed into his cook uniform and got busy. He made small talk with the other cooks as he chopped up carrots, celery, onions and green peppers. He was hoping the day would go by quickly; he wanted to do some shopping for the baby and Lydia.

  Venus and Andre arrived at his place after going on a boat ride on the Spirit of New York. There was a live band and everybody was on the dance floor. Venus never imagined that she’d be having this much fun after BJ’s death. Andre made her feel alive again.

  Andre had a nice bachelor pad. Venus looked around for signs of another woman staying there. There were none—at least she didn’t see any. She looked through his medicine cabinet for bobby pins, a douche, mascara, etcetera. Maybe he’s gay. The thought terrified her.

  She sat on the sofa bed and checked the time; they both had to go to work in the morning. Andre slowly came up behind her. He began massaging her shoulders and kissing the back of her neck. His touch felt so good, and Venus felt like years of tension was being oozed out of her.

  She got up and took off her clothes, and Andre undressed as well. He walked her over to the bed and then turned on his stereo system. He put on a Keith Sweat CD. The speakers pumped Nobody, and Andre made love to her like nobody ever had. Venus used muscles that she didn’t even know she had. They tumbled around on the bed, making love while Andre whispered sweet nothings in her ear...he was so big, and Venus prayed that he wasn’t damaging her uterus. They came together, and Andre rolled over and reached for the remote to the CD player. Twisted now played as he prepared to get in the shower. Venus dozed off, still hearing Andre’s voice in her ear and feeling his hands on her body. She really was twisted.

  Andre awakened Venus. He had made a light breakfast for the two of them and was getting ready for work. Venus tried to focus; she wasn’t used to waking up in somebody else’s bed.

  Andre brought her breakfast in bed. ”You look so beautiful in the morning,” he said.

  ”It’s too early to be telling lies, Dre. But thank you,” Venus said. She started fixing her hair...God, she hadn’t even brushed her teeth. She bit into a raisin bagel and drank some coffee.

  Andre finished his breakfast and gave his keys to Venus. ”Lock the door, and I’ll see you at work. I gotta go to that meeting this morning.” Venus knew what meeting he was talking about. If he waited for her he’d be late.

  ”All right, drive safely. I gotta go home and change clothes,” she said before locking the door behind him. Now that he was gone, she had the opportunity to really snoop around.

  Venus looked through his drawers and his mail. There was no indication that he was involved with someone else. Andre was too good to be true. She found his social security card and birth certificate and decided to run a check on him. She knew Share ran background checks on people all the time, and she would let
her do it.

  Venus got home, showered and changed. Bullet and Diamond had both given her a ‘why are you just getting in?’ look. She let them out the back door, filled their bowls up with food and headed out to work. She put on the headphone to her cell as she drove through traffic and called Share.

  It seemed as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. Share told Venus about the restaurant she was going to buy downtown, and Venus told Share about Andre, hoping she’d be happy for her. She was, even if it was so soon after BJ’s death.

  ”It’s not like you don’t know Andre; you’ve worked with him for the longest,” Share said when Venus asked her to run a background check on him. Venus thought Andre just seemed so perfect and there had to be something wrong with him. Share didn’t understand Venus’ paranoia, but she took down his information anyway.

  Venus got to work and checked her voicemail. She had half a dozen messages. BJ’s aunt had phoned her, and the rest were business calls.

  Venus returned the District Attorney’s call immediately. He told her that Annette’s lawyer was trying to cut a deal and have the charges reduced to a lesser crime. He said the chances of that happening were slim to none. They were closer to none actually, because Annette’s pregnancy test showed that she wasn’t pregnant at all. She had also failed a polygraph test.

  The District Attorney’s office was ready to charge Annette with second degree murder if she didn’t cop out. Venus was very pleased with his work, and she wanted to be present when Annette got sentenced.

  Venus hung up from the D.A. and called BJ’s aunt to tell her the good news. They agreed to be at the trial every day if it came to that.

  Venus ended their call and sat back in her leather chair. She remembered her and Andre doing the damn thing right there on the office carpet. She laughed out loud to herself as their episode continued to run through her mind.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Kalif was being detained at Riker’s Island to be evaluated by two psychiatrists. His lawyer told him not to cop out because he had a good chance of beating the case. Kalif didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure he trusted the Ritz Cracker.

  His lawyer also said that since he was under the influence of PCP at the time of his crime, he wasn’t responsible for his actions. Kalif understood that; when they told him he had hung a baby out of a window by one arm he was shocked, so maybe the cracker-ass lawyer could be trusted a little bit.

  It was chow time, and Kalif wasn’t for eating any mess hall food. He’d gotten arrested with a couple hundred in his pocket, so his commissary was all right—not to mention that LeRoy and Derek had set him out since he had been down.

  Some kid asked Kalif if he was going to eat; he wanted to know if he could have his tray if he wasn’t. ”Sure, no doubt; you can have my tray,” Kalif said and went to wait in line. When he got his food, he walked up to the kid who had wanted his tray and smacked him with it. The kid fell, and Kalif stomped him until some other cats pulled him off of him. Nobody really knew what had happened, because the shit jumped off so quickly.

  ”I’ma see you, punk!” the kid jumped up and yelled.

  Kalif didn’t take too kindly to threats. ”See me now, you twinkie-ass nigga,” he said and snatched the kid up again. Kalif beat him down until the CO’s finally stepped in, put him in handcuffs and took him to the clinic. He didn’t understand why he was being taken to the clinic; he wasn’t the one who was hurt—the other kid was. He lay there bleeding while the other niggas just stood around, laughing and cracking jokes.

  Niggas knew Kalif’s style from the streets, and his dead brother’s reputation gave him even more status. The inmates sat and ate now, talking about his jump-off and how quickly he had snuffed that kid. Kalif knew what he was doing; he was giving them something to talk about.

  Kalif, now back from the clinic, sat in his cell eating potatostix and a turkey sandwich. When he was done, he went to the phone and called Will. He told him what the lawyer had said and the date of his next court appearance. Will told Kalif that he, along with LeRoy and Derek, would be there. Kalif’s phone time ran out, and he went back to his cell.

  Kalif’s lawyer wanted his case to be treated as a high profile one. ”Fuck that shit!” was Kalif’s response. ”House me in G.P. with my niggas.” His lawyer went on and on about how the judge had ordered that he be housed separately and there was nothing that could be done. Kalif settled for the 911 building with the inmates under mental observation. Half of them weren’t M.O. anyway.

  Kalif was in his cell reading when Ladelle crossed his mind. He was amongst the angry crowd that had attacked him on the day of his arrest; he had snuffed him as he was being brought out of the building. Kalif would never forget that scene or Ladelle’s face, no matter how long it took him to get home. He had marked Ladelle for death.... Beef never dies, you punk muthafucka, he thought as he closed the book he was reading.

  Petie left the bricks in the room with Patrice. Ladelle was gone now, and it didn’t make sense for him to continue to pay for the other room. He didn’t want to leave two kilos in an empty room with nobody to watch it. Besides, he didn’t trust the old people at the desk; maybe they’d want to go in there and snoop around.

  Petie told Patrice that he had something to put away in the room. He’d leave it a certain way so if she touched it, he’d know. It wasn’t the only way he could find out if he could trust her, but hopefully she passed the test. If she didn’t, he’d put a bullet in her and leave her ass on the roof.

  Petie left the hotel and went to Roz’s house. He gave her the Polaroid pictures that she needed to make up his ID. She left him at her crib and got on her job immediately, calling her connects. She had told Petie that she had somebody move the Navigator, strip and burn it and leave it in Brooklyn. Petie had never thought about that. It was a good thing that Roz did.

  Petie waited for her to call the house and say she was on her way back, but she never did. He had forgotten to give her the numbers to his two pre-paid cell phones before she left. ”Who’s number you calling me from?” she said when he called her from one of the phones. She hadn’t recognized it when it showed up on her caller ID.

  ”My new phone, ma. I forgot to tell you before you left. Listen, how long that shit gon’ take? I wanna be on the road tonight,” Petie said itching to get out of there. The vibe in her place didn’t feel right anymore. He was paranoid, and he thought that at any minute the door would be kicked in.

  He sat on the couch holding the burner, cocked and ready. Fuck it. If po-po came through the door, they’d better be ready to eat bullets.

  Patrice was wondering what Petie had stashed in the drawer. Although he had told her not to touch anything, she had to know. She opened the drawer and saw a pillowcase. She took it out of the drawer and unzipped it. She couldn’t believe what she saw—two kilos. There were knots in her stomach now, and she felt like she had to take a shit. That had always happened to her when she felt the urge to get high.

  Patrice stood there staring at the material, and her mind began to race. She asked God to remove the thoughts and feelings that were overwhelming her. God is good all the time. The feeling passed and she put the bricks back in the drawer. She had been with Petie for four days now, and she was feeling him for real. She didn’t want to give him any reason not to trust her. Petie had treated her well ever since picking her up that night.

  When he put that thousand dollars in her hand, she thought about bouncing then. But her mother always told her that if she did people wrong, nothing good would come to her; so no matter how much crack she smoked, she never violated. She never gave a nigga a reason to hunt her down. Bad enough she was smoking; she did-n’t want to have to walk in fear, worrying about some niggas running up on her. She didn’t violate unless a nigga gave her reason to.

  Patrice was sitting on the hotel steps when Petie got back. ”What you doing out here?” he asked. ”I thought I told you I didn’t want you in the streets unless I was with you. Get upstair
s.” They went inside the hotel and Patrice walked up the stairs behind Petie. He had G written all over him, and she loved it. She loved the way he laid shit down. He was the boss.

  Petie went right to the drawer. There weren’t any signs that his shit had been touched, but Patrice told him about finding it anyway. He didn’t say anything. Patrice knew that was a good sign.

  Petie had stopped off at a restaurant on his way back to the hotel. They sat on the bed and ate, talking about their trip tomorrow and what roads they were going to take to avoid the state troopers who’d be on the turnpike, trying to catch drug traffickers.

  Chapter Fifty

  Petie sat in the chair with his burner on the table and watched Patrice sleep. She was all right in his book; he had a feeling that she had touched the material when he checked it, but she told on herself, which earned her some stripes. He had acted like he didn’t know, hoping she’d tell him before he went ballistic, and she did. She had proven herself trustworthy.

  Petie gave Patrice money to go shopping, and she came back with all the right things. He liked the dread wig she had bought; it would definitely give him a different look. She had covered bases that he hadn’t even thought of.

  Roz came through with all the ID Petie needed. He now had a new birth certificate, social security card and photo ID. She had done right by him, so he gave her a thousand dollars for keeping it real.

  Renee would bring him his clothes in the morning. She would have the boys with her so Petie could see them before he bounced.