Bury Me a G 4

by Tranay Adams

  CHAPTER THREE

  Meanwhile, inside of the junkyard, Cordell stood outside of his luxury vehicle facing the entrance of the junkyard beside his enforcer, Savino. Cordell was wearing a pair of round lens sunglasses with gold frames and a silk white suit. He chewed on gum and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to check the time on his Audemar. Savino was a stocky cat of a caramel hue and slanted eyes that made him look like he was part Korean. He wore a white doo-rag with the flap and a Braves fitted cap on top of it and cocked to the side. He had on a wife beater which he wore beneath a matching Braves jersey. Lying on top of his wife beater were several icy platinum chains and on his right wrist he wore an iced out Cartier Tic Tac Toe watch. Savino looked more like a rapper from the early 2000’s era than the goon he really was. From his appearance you’d think that he’d most likely but a rhyme than a gat. Being that it was ’97, his style of dress was ahead of his time, but he did fancy himself a trendsetter. Cordell pulled a handkerchief from out of his back pocket and patted the beads of sweats from off his bald, shiny head. He then patted the back of his neck and underneath his chin as well. It was a scorching 88 degrees that day and the sun wasn’t showing anyone mercy. Once he’d finished patting himself down, Cordell slid the handkerchief back inside his back pocket. “We gone give ‘em five more minutes and then we gone raise up out this bitch.” Cordell told Savino without taking his eyes off the entrance of the junkyard. “See, I told you, you shoulda let me handle Lavell’s trifling ass.” Savino responded. “I couldn’t send you. Your face is familiar to him. He woulda known something was up.” “Look, here they come now.” Savino nodded to the entrance and Cordell looked up. They saw the Hyundai backing into the junkyard with Tiaz sitting on the trunk. The compact car didn’t stop until it was five feet away from Cordell and Savino. “You’re late!” Cordell told Tiaz. “My fault, but it was traffic, and we hadda be easy out there. You know how many charges we woulda been looking at should we have gotten caught with this mothafucka.” Tiaz patted the trunk and jumped off the car. At that precise moment, everyone heard the muffled hollers of Lavell as well as his punching of the inside of the trunk. “Lemme outta here, man! It’s hot in here, dawg! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Lavelle complained with panic in his voice, dying to be freed from his close quarters. Bunk! Bunk! Bunk! “Shut cho ass up, nigga! That’s what chu get for pulling that hoe shit!” Savino roared from where he was standing beside Cordell. “Stand back, Tiaz,” Cordell approached the trunk. “Yo’, Threat, pop the trunk on this mothafucka, man.” Thunk! The trunk cracked open. Cordell and Savino stood outside of the trunk. The enforcer’s face was fixed with a scowl and his .9mm automatic was out at his side. “Open this mothafucka up.” Cordell told him. Savino gripped his gun tighter and settled his itchy trigger finger on the trigger. He then lifted up the trunk. Inside they found a perspiring Lavell. He looked exhausted and in pain. Beads of sweat ran down his face and arms. There were sweat stains around the collar of his shirt and where his armpits were. His broken legs were twisted in opposite directions. Where he had been bleeding on the trunk’s carpet had turned brown from his blood drying. The sun was shining on Savino and Cordell’s backs, casting their shadows on Lavell. When Lavell saw Cordell and Savino, his eyes got as big as saucers and he gasped like he’d seen ghosts. He looked from left to right. He was petrified. “Cordell, Savino, lemme explain...” “Fuck your explanation!” Cordell grabbed him by his gold chains and pulled them against his throat, trying to choke him to death. He pulled so tight that veins bulged at Lavell’s temples and his eyeballs looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his lips trembled. He tried to claw up Cordell’s face, but he turned his face from left to right to avoid his scratching. A scowling Cordell gritted his teeth and pulled the chains even tighter around his victim’s neck. A bead of sweat broke free down the side of Cordell’s face and the chains slowly began to come apart. Finally, the chains snapped and what was left of them fell onto the ground. Afterwards, still pissed off, Cordell punched Lavell square in the face. By the time he’d grown tired of punching him, he was breathing huskily and his knuckles were bleeding. Lavell’s head hung out of the trunk. His eyes were rolled to their whites and his nose was bleeding. “Pussy ass nigga!”Cordell spat on Lavell and then wiped his bloody knuckles off on the barely conscious man’s T-shirt. He then placed Lavell’s head back inside of the trunk and slammed it shut. Turning around, he looked up high into the sky and found Savino sitting inside of the machine that operated the magnetic crane, “Threat, gone hop out the car, youngsta.” Threat obliged Cordell. With the sway of his hand, Savino motioned for Cordell, Tiaz and Threat to clear the path for him to grab hold of the Hyundai. Once they were out of the way, he brought the magnet over the rooftop of the compact car. The car shook a little, which disturbed the pebbles on the ground it was parked on. Abruptly, the vehicle slammed into the magnet. Savino switched up the levers inside of the machine and brought the automobile over to the car crusher. As the Hyundai was craned over to the car crusher, everyone could hear Lavell calling out for help and pummeling the inside of the trunk with his fists. “Hellllp me! Somebody hellllp me pleeeaasee!” Lavell called out over and over again. Boom! Savino pressed the button that released the Hyundai inside of the car crusher. He then shut the machine he was operating off, grabbed his .9mm off the dashboard and climbed out of the machine. He made his way halfway down the bars that were made to climb up into the machine with and jumped down onto the ground. Tucking his gun at the front of his jeans, Savino strolled over to the car crusher and pressed the button that started the machine up. The machine squeaked and made other noises that old metal makes when it’s moved. “Hellllp me! Somebody hellllp me pleeeaasee!” Lavell called out again and pummeled the inside of the trunk furiously. Silence filled the air once the car crusher was through making scrap metal out of the Hyundai. Savino held his middle finger up at the Hyundai as he walked over to stand beside Cordell. “Job well done, gentlemen,” Cordell congratulated Tiaz and Threat. “That ain’t ‘bout nothing. Me and my nigga do this shit all day long. Ain’t that right, Threat?” He dapped up his homeboy. “You ain’t never lied, homeboy.” Threat spoke to his right-hand man, but his eyes were glued on Savino. The two were staring each other down. Tiaz’ forehead furrowed when he noticed this, but he didn’t mention it. Threat and Savino never felt one another. They both thought that the other believed that he was the hardest nigga in the streets and wanted to prove him wrong. The problem was Cordell wasn’t having any unnecessary beefs because that fucked up his money, which was drug money. If the streets were hot because of violence then that meant there was going to be police presence. And this meant that his people couldn’t move his narcotics. “Y’all niggaz chill with that shit, man.” Cordell barked, seeing exactly what was transpiring between his enforcer and the young head busta. “Y’all wanna measure dicks then you do it on yo’ own mothafucking time. Not mine.” He spoke stern. “Anytime you feel like you wanna come for the crown, I’ll be right here waiting to oblige you, young blood.” Savino tapped the .9mm that was tucked at the front of his jeans. His mad dog stare was locked on Threat and he couldn’t wait to shut his eyes forever. “You never know, homie, today might just be the day.” Threat whipped out his gun. “Get cho boy, Tiaz, for this shit goes left.” Cordell warned the young nigga. “You got me fucked up, old head. Tiaz is my brother, and I love ‘em to death. But he don’t hold the leash to this dog.” “So, what’s up, rookie? You up for a game of death?” Savino cracked a sinister smile. “Money over bullshit, always remember...money over bullshit.” Tiaz said to Threat. Threat nodded and licked his lips, keeping his murderous eyes on Savino. Moving to tuck his gun, he said, “I’ma let chu keep yo’ life today, pops.” “Another time another place,” Savino replied. “Jesus, you two hot head mothafuckaz need anger management.” Cordell shook his head and then turned to Tiaz. “Lemme give y’all yo’ blessings so you can get outta here.” He reach
ed into his pocket and pulled out to fat ass wads of money secured by rubber bands. He tossed one to Tiaz and the other to Threat. They didn’t even bother counting the money; they stuffed the wads inside of their pockets and turned to walk away. They took three steps before they were called back. “’Sup?” Tiaz turned around and threw his head back. “Gemme a tick or two, would ja?” “Lemme see what this nigga wont. I’ll be right back.” Tiaz told Threat before he headed over to Cordell to see what was on his mind. Cordell threw his arm over Tiaz’ shoulders and took a walk with him. He stopped once he figured that they weren’t within earshot of Savino and Threat. “Now, I got word that some niggaz have been setting the streets on fire out here. Niggaz extorting and robbing everything in sight,” he placed his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “A couple of niggaz I know crack houses got hit, but you know what I noticed? Outta all of these niggaz that’s getting the blues, my shit has been left alone. So, I figured one or two things. These dudes that’s running around out here sticking up shit just so happened to pass all of my spots up, or they just don’t have balls big enough to take shit from me.” He looked Tiaz dead in his eyes. It was from this that Tiaz acknowledged that Cordell knew him and Threat had been the two niggaz he was talking about. “Now me being the nigga that I am, knowing that if a mothafucka was to ever take so much as a fucking crumb from off my plate, what I’d do to him or his big head ass partner. I’d have to say that those two cats I’m talking about don’t have the balls to bring any of that bullshit this way. I don’t play that shit, straight up. Niggaz will end up like Lavell over there in that mothafucking car crusher. You feel me?” “I gotta go, man. Was that all you wanted?” Tiaz asked. He didn’t even bother dignifying that question with an answer. The way he saw it, he was better off getting on his way before guns were drawn again and he found himself in a Mexican standoff. “Yeah, you can go, kid.” Cordell smiled and patted him on the shoulder. He then watched as Tiaz joined up with Threat and they walked out of the junkyard. Savino came to stand beside Cordell. “Yeah, I wish you lil’ fuckaz would call y’all selves robbing me. There would be hell to pay.” He took the time to spark up a Black & Mild and blew out a cloud of smoke. *** Tiaz watched Threat’s back as he stood behind him. The little nigga used a Slim Jim as he tried to pop the lock on the driver’s door of a gold ’88 Celebrity. “Nigga was flexing too, like I know niggaz ain’t got balls big enough to steal from me.” Tiaz mocked Cordell’s voice. “You know, like niggaz are scared or something. Old head got us fucked up. He must don’t know me and my ace will bring it to any nigga that wants it. We don’t give a fuck who he is or who he might be connected to.” “For real for real,” Threat said as he focused on the task at hand with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He was listening to his homeboy and working the lock at the same time. Thunk! The door came unlocked and Threat opened it, allowing Tiaz inside first. He then stuck the Slim Jim between the console and the seat. Next, he went about the task of hot wiring the old car. “He must don’t know I’ma crazy ass young nigga that don’t give a fuck about shit except you, pops and the hood. Everything else after that can kiss my ass.” “I feel you on that, Crimey.” Threat said as he tried to get the car to start. Before he knew it there were sparks from the colorful wires pinched between his fingers and the automobile was roaring to life. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby.” He smiled and dapped up Tiaz. He then picked up the worn black leather bag that had all of the tools in it that he needed to steal something or someone. Threat grabbed another tool from out of the bag and tossed it into the backseat. He stuck the tool into the ignition and turned it. He then adjusted the rearview mirror, pressed his foot on the brake, and changed the gears. He glanced into the side view mirror to see if anyone was coming and then he pulled out.

  CHAPTER FOUR That night

  “I’m sorry, but I gotta let chu go!” Ralph said from behind his desk. He was a slender dude that wore his hair in a tapered afro. He was wearing a black windbreaker and a purple shirt. Emblazoned on the breast of the shirt was Platinum Protection. “Lemme go for what?” Melvin’s face twisted in a scowl. His eyes were red webbed and his eyes had black bags beneath them. There was also dried white stuff at the corner of his eyes and his mouth. He looked exhausted, and he was too. He’d been busting his ass working two jobs. He pushed a taxi cab during the day and worked security at the Staple Center at night. Homie did all of this to keep his bills paid and a roof over he and his son’s head. Melvin didn’t have time to do anything but work. By the time he was getting off one job it was time to go to the other. His sex life wasn’t much to speak of either. I mean, sure he had a couple of one nightstands since Kimberly’s passing, but that was pretty much it. “Late, late, late, late,” Ralph sang, throwing his head from left to right. He leaned back in his black leather executive office chair. “How many times did I have to tell you, Melvin?” He jabbed the desk top with his finger, emphasizing every word that rolled off of his tongue. “These white folks don’t play with their safety. Hell, don’t nobody play ‘bout dat. Now, you ‘pose to be at work 9 o’clock sharp every night, Monday thru Saturday. That’s with the extra day you requested. You’re late every night. You clocking in at nine thirty, sometimes later. You know how many calls I’ve gotten from the powers that be chewing my black ass out about chu? Huh? Do you know how many times I’ve lied just so you could keep yo’ job? I’m sure you don’t. Even if I was to tell you, you still wouldn’t believe me.” “Look, Ralph, I hadda getta second gig in order to make ends meet. I’m pulling ten and twelve hours shifts at my first gig and about ten here. That don’t leave much of a window of time to get here, but I’m trying. I swear ‘fore God I be breaking and shaking to get my ass down here for y’all, man.”Melvin took a breath and gathered his wits. “Listen, man, shit been real hard for me, but I been trying to make it work. I can’t under any circumstances lose this job. I got rent, life insurance, car insurance, medical bills, utilities, and most importantly, a son to take care of. If I lose this gig, there ain’t no way in hell I can make it off what I’m clocking pushing that old cab of mine.” Melvin ran both his hands down his face and continued, “I need this gig bad, Ralph, I’m asking you to please gemme one mo’ chance. Whatever you gotta tell ‘em people, please, tell ‘em. I promise, on my wife’s grave, this will be the last time ever I’m late for work. So, please, please, please, do whatever you can for me to keep this mothafucka, man.” He begged with his hands together like he was praying. Ralph stayed leaned back in his chair thinking as he massaged his chin. His eyes were focused on the portrait on his desk of his family. It was him, his wife, their three children and his newborn son. As bad as he wanted to stick his neck out there again for Melvin, he couldn’t. His supervisor had been riding him hard for Melvin’s repeated tardiness. The guy at The Staple Center that had taken out the contract with Platinum Protection had threatened to sever ties with the company if Melvin’s tardiness continued, so this was the last draw for him. Ralph’s supervisor told him that the next time that Melvin was late that he had to fire him or he was going to fire his ass. There wasn’t going to be any if’s, and’s or buts about it. He was going to see to it that Ralph was standing in the unemployment line. With a family to provide for, with the way that Ralph seen it, Melvin’s ass had to go. That’s just the way it was. Fuck it! Ralph stopped massaging his chin and placed his hand on the armrest of his chair. He looked up at Melvin who had hope swimming in his eyes, wishing that he could give him the response that he wanted to hear.

  “I’m sorry, Mel, but it’s outta my hands,” He held up both of his hands for emphasis. “Come on now, Ralph, man,” he looked at him like You can’t be serious. “As far as we go back, I know you not gone do me like that, at least not atta time like this.” “Unfortunately, the well has run dry with chances. I’ve put my ass on the line far too many times already. By allowing you to stay here I’d be gambling with my family’s future. That’s not something I’m willing to put up at stake.” “My
nigga, I know you can...” Melvin moved closer to the desk to address him, but he held up his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “That’s it, man. I’m sorry, but you gotta go.” He pulled open his desk drawer and took out Melvin’s last paycheck which was labeled with his name. He tossed it onto the desk top and it slid a little, stopping before him. “I’m gonna need you to hand over your windbreaker, shirt, badge and utility belt. “Can’t believe this shit, Ralph. This how you do your friends?” Melvin asked as he removed the stuff on him and placed it on the desk top. He’d taken off everything except his the purple shirt that made up his uniform. “I need dat shirt, man.” Ralph flexed his fingers, signaling for him to hand over his shirt also. “Fuck you! I paid twenty dollars for this shirt, it came outta my check.” He snatched the envelope from off the desk top. “Ain’t no need for name calling, let’s handle this like civilized adults.” “Yeah, whatever, nigga,” Melvin stashed his paycheck envelope inside of his back pocket and made his way to the door. Opening the door, he slammed it so hard that some of the accolades hanging on the office’s wall fell.