Block Party

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  “Who?”

  “Ice. He said it last night when him and my mommy was fighting.”

  “Shh,” Ahmir whispers, as he elbows Ahmad under the table.

  “Fighting?” I ask.

  “Yeah fighting,” he replies.

  I look over at Slim. He won’t even look in my direction. “What were they fighting about?”

  “He kept asking Mommy do she still like you. And then I heard him smack her,” Ahmad replies.

  “Where were ya’ll?”

  “In our room,” Ahmad answers.

  “Ahmir, what did you do?”

  “Nothing,” he whispers. Before I realize it, I’ve already slapped him across the face.

  “What the fuck do you mean, nothing? You’re the oldest. If a motherfucker ever put his hands on your mother, you better pick something up and try to kill him! Do you hear me?” He doesn’t answer me. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he answers.

  I look in his eyes. He doesn’t have a single tear in his eyes, but he’s pissed. If he thought he could beat me, I think he would go for it right now.

  “Slim, where were you when this was happening?” I question.

  “Bang Man, I was in the other room! When I heard the noise, I ran in.” Slim is talking real fast. I guess he thinks I’m going to slap him too. “I pulled my razor on him. I tried to cut his throat, but Desire stepped in between us. She talked real bad to me. She called me a dope-shooting-junkie has-been. Big Time, she really hurt my feelings. I told him, if he ever put his hands on my baby, I’d kill him. But she was steady yelling at me.”

  “Yeah?” I question.

  “Bang Man, that nigga got her going crazy. His money is blinding her! Being that he has a little money, she lets him get away with anything. His other bitches are calling our house and everything. Big Time, I even found a prescription for gonorrhea,” he whispers.

  I’m just listening to him. I can’t believe my ears. I know what the problem is. He knows I’m getting money again, and he’s afraid Desire will leave him to be with me.

  “Mir, I apologize.” I pull him close. “But don’t let nobody hit your mommy. When Slim leaves, you’ll be the man of the house. You have to hold it down.”

  I can see me and Ahmir are going to have a lot of problems. I know I’m a little too hard on him, but I just want him to grow up right. I don’t want him to be like me.

  As the kids are getting in the car, Slim speaks. “Big Time, don’t do nothing stupid. No matter what, she’s still going to be with him. She thinks she loves him, but she really loves his money.”

  “Slim, this nigga ain’t gonna be hitting on her in front of my kids! It ain’t her I’m worried about. I’m worried about this shit having an effect on my kids. That shit can traumatize them!”

  “Bang Man, I feel you but this is a tough situation.”

  “Ain’t nothing tough about it! When I see him, I’m going to tell him about it, and if the shit happens again, I’m going to handle his punk ass.”

  The situation has me pissed. The punk ass nigga really is mad at me for taking all his customers. He ain’t man enough to take it out on me, so he takes it out on Desire. Now I’m really going to make it hard for him, and I hope he steps out of line so I’ll have a reason to do him. Then no one can say I’m hating on him cause he’s fucking my baby mother. You know how it goes.

  While driving them home, I decide to stop in and talk to Desire before I leave. I need to know what’s on her mind.

  “Slim, when you go in there, tell Desire to come here.”

  “You got it, Big Time!”

  “Later fellas,” I shout.

  “Bye Daddy,” they reply.

  “Later ya’ll!”

  I’m waiting impatiently. I wonder what she’s going to say.

  Here she comes. She’s looking fashionable as usual. She has on a red and white, hooded velour sweat suit. The pants are tight fitting around her thighs, revealing their thickness. The bottoms of the pants legs are bell-bottomed. Her hair is shiny and straight. The only thing messing her up is her dark sunglasses. It’s 9:00 at night. Why does she need shades on?

  “Huh? You wanted me?” she asks.

  “Yeah, get in!”

  She gets in slowly. Not one time has she looked at me. She’s looking straight ahead. I know she feels crazy with those sunglasses on. It’s pitch dark out here.

  “What’s up?” she asks.

  “You,” I reply.

  “What about me?”

  “Desire, what’s up with the shades?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Isn’t it too dark for shades?”

  “No,” she replies.

  “Take them off!”

  “Why?”

  “You know I like to look people in the eyes when I’m talking to them. Take them off.”

  “No!” she shouts.

  I reach over to take them off. She grabs my hand. I squeeze her wrist until she lets go. “Aghh!” she screams. I snatch her shades off. Her eye is swollen shut. The corner of her eye, which used to be white, is now cherry red. The entire area underneath her eye is black as can be. She’s embarrassed. She lowers her head.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “You already know!” she shouts. “Who told you, Ahmad? I’m going to whip his ass!”

  “For what? He didn’t give you the black eye,” I shout sarcastically. “Anyway, that’s not who told me!”

  “Well, my dope fiend ass father must have told you.”

  “Damn Desire, you mad at everybody except the motherfucker who gave you the black eye. I bet you’re not mad at him, are you?”

  “Mind your business, Cash!” she shouts. “This don’t have nothing to do with you!”

  “This got everything to do with me. He thinks you still want me.”

  “They told you that too?”

  “It’s true, ain’t it?” I ask. “Desire, you’re too old for that bullshit. Too old to let that little ass boy beat on you. Listen, whatever ya’ll do is between ya’ll, but I’m not going to let him disrespect you in front of my boys. If they watch him disrespect you, then they’ll grow up disrespecting you, and I’m not having that.”

  “Cash, stay out of this.”

  “You better tell him before I do, cause I ain’t gone talk to his ass,” I admit. “Actions speak louder than words. First he disrespected me, telling them I’m broke and played out. Now this. I let him slide the first time, now I have to get at him.”

  “Cash, please let it go,” she begs. “Please stay out of it and let me handle it.”

  “How are you going to handle it?” I ask.

  “I’m going to leave him alone,” she replies.

  “Yeah right. He knows how much you love that money; that’s why he beats on you. He knows he can give you a brand new Gucci pocketbook and you’ll forget all about it. Yeah, he might be taking care of you and giving you whatever you want, but look at the price you have to pay. You have to let him punch you in the face and slap you around just to look fly. That’s a lot of tax to pay!” I shout. “Desire, get yourself together. You’re getting too old for the bullshit.”

  “Look who’s talking!” she defends. “You’re older than me and you still on the bullshit too!”

  “What bullshit?” I ask.

  “That street bullshit!” she replies.

  “What you talking about?”

  “Cash, stop acting stupid. You know exactly what I’m talking about. That hustling shit!” she states. “You better not come over here giving me a speech while you out here acting like a kid. You damn near 40 years old too. You have two sons, who look up to you like you’re a god. You’re not 18 anymore; you’re a grown ass man. Your sons need you. You can’t keep running in and out of their lives. How about you go to jail again, then what? And don’t think for one minute, they don’t know what you doing. That’s all they talk about. Ahmad told his classmates that you rich. He also told them you’re a big-time drug dealer. His teach
er called the house; luckily she’s a friend of mines. I went to school with her; that’s the only reason she didn’t tell the principal. You need to get yourself together too!”

  “I am together!”

  “No, you are not!”

  “Desire, I ain’t hustling!”

  “You are a damn lie!” she shouts. “Everybody is talking about it. I took the kids to the barbershop; niggas were in there talking about you. I overheard someone say you got those things for cheap. I ain’t no dummy.”

  “You must be. You keep letting that young ass boy play you the fuck out!”

  “Don’t change the subject. Cash, get your shit right before you come around here telling me how to live my life!” She gets out of the car and slams the door. Her ass jiggles like Jell-O as she stomps up the stairs.

  This cat Ice is starting to be a problem. I can’t believe he told Desire all of my business like that. I definitely have to tighten him up.

  CHAPTER 16

  A few things have changed in the past two weeks. For one, I’m no longer riding in the prehistoric Benz I had. Me and Slim are sliding down the Ave. in my brand new CL 55 Mercedes Benz coupe. It’s beautiful. It has a wine color exterior and a tan interior with shiny chrome rims. I traded my old car in and gave the dealer $65,000 cash. It feels good to ride brand new again. I almost forgot what a new car smells like.

  Love is upset with me. She complains about me buying the car. She says I’m supposed to be saving, but instead I’m spending the money up. She’s right, but I wanted this car so bad. After test-driving it, I had to have it. Besides, the $65,000 didn’t hurt me at all. I’ve only been hustling one month, and I’ve already made $100,000 profit. I didn’t spend any of my new money. I spent the money I started off with. The way things are going, I’ll make that $65,000 back in two weeks.

  Things are going terrific. Just last week, I went through 20 kilos. I have the cocaine market on lock. No one buys work from Ice anymore. Everyone is buying from me, Cashmere. The young kids don’t call me Cashmere. They call me Old Head. Who would imagine I’m not even 40 years old yet and they consider me an old head.

  As for Desire, she claims she hasn’t spoken to Ice. She says she’s done with him. I haven’t seen him either. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen Wu either. I’ve been looking all over for both of them. Mike told me Ice heard we were looking for him, so he’s been laying low down in North Carolina. As far as Wu goes, I go through the projects at least twice a day. I haven’t seen a sign of him. He’s probably somewhere out of town hiding out.

  Today is Sunday, which is supposed to be family day, but I have to go to Connecticut to meet Juan. He told me it’s very important. I can’t imagine what it could be. I just got my package of 20 birds two days ago. He can’t be calling for the money, because we don’t do business like that anymore. Now he gives me the package, and I pay him entirely when I’m done, not like the way I used to pay him in portions. That was security just in case I ran off; at least he’d have some of his money. But now I guess I’ve built up a certain amount of trust.

  I have to ride past my house to tell Love, we have to cancel our plans for the day. I know she’ll be upset, but I’ll make it up to her with the surprise I have for her.

  Today marks our five-year anniversary. What is a better present than a gleaming, six-karat platinum ring, fully loaded with a princess-cut diamond and baguettes covering the sides. The stone itself is four karats. I spent so much money for the ring that the jeweler gave me matching earrings for free. That should shut her mouth.

  When I get inside, Love is sitting in the kitchen with her coat hanging on the back of the chair. She’s been waiting for an hour for me to get here.

  “Finally!”

  “Baby, something came up. I have to make a move,” I mumble.

  “What?”

  “I have to handle something. It’s very important.”

  “Oh, and I’m not?” she asks, with sarcasm in her voice.

  “I didn’t say that Love.”

  “You didn’t have to; you’re showing me. Every since you’ve been back on the streets, we haven’t spent one Sunday together.”

  I think for a second. She’s right. With all the ripping and running, I’ve totally disregarded family day.

  “All I ask you for is one day, and you can’t do that!”

  “Love, please don’t start,” I beg.

  “No Donald, listen. I told you I’m not going to deal with this bullshit. I’m not going to live this lifestyle! All the secrets! All the lies! I want to live a regular life! The traditional American husband and wife, not a mob-oriented husband and wife. My friends can’t even come to the house anymore!” she cries. “My best friend invited us over for dinner the other night. I had to lie. I told her you were sick, all because her husband is a cop. I knew you wouldn’t want to be around him! Now, you’re telling me that we’re selling the house. I don’t want to sell the house! I love this house. So I guess when we move, I can’t tell my mother and sisters where we live, right?”

  She’s going on and on. She won’t even give me time to get a word in. She’s furious. She must have been holding all of this in for a while.

  “Love, please.” I finally manage to squeeze two words in.

  “Please, my ass! I’m not about to live this drug-dealing life you want me to live. You’re the drug dealer! Not me!”

  Now she’s starting to piss me off, yelling shit like that.

  “I’m a schoolteacher! Oh by the way, you need to conduct your business a little better. One of my students saw you drop me off the other day. He knows everything about you! I mean everything! He whispered to me how you have the town on lock. I was so ashamed I had to tell him you were my husband’s brother. Here it is, I’m telling my students to say no to drugs and you’re the biggest drug dealer around!” she screams. “Are you selling drugs to any of my students?”

  “Huh?” I question, as if I didn’t hear her.

  “You heard me!”

  “Love, don’t come at me like that!”

  “If you are and they find out, I’m sure to lose my job. And if I lose my job, I’m going to be working with you!”

  I laugh right in her face.

  “You laugh, but I’m serious,” she claims. “I’ve worked too hard to let you mess up my life. The only reason I married you was because you promised me you were done. Everyone else looked at you and saw a drug dealer. I saw a loving, compassionate man who made a mistake and was paying for it. That’s why I never left your side. But if it happens again, I’m going to be forced to look at you like a foolish drug dealer. Donald, I need stability. I need to know when I come home that you’ll be there. Right now, I can’t be sure of that. With the lifestyle you live, anything can happen. I don’t know if you’re going to make it home.”

  She’s venting. I didn’t have a clue I had her under so much pressure. I always thought I was doing this for us, when in all reality, I’ve been doing this for me. Damn, I didn’t realize I was being this selfish.

  “I want to go on vacation to Jamaica next year.” She interrupts my thoughts. “I can’t plan it yet, because I don’t know if my husband will be around next year.”

  “I’ll be around!” I shout stupidly.

  “I hope so!” she replies. “You know, sometimes I wonder how my life would have been if I had married a regular Joe Blow.”

  That crushes me. What is she telling me? Is she unhappy with her life? Is she living with regrets? I step closer to her. My lips are touching her forehead. I put my finger damn near in her eye. Now she’s piping down. She knows I’m pissed off. She’s scared to death. I can feel her heart thumping through my body. “What the fuck do you mean, had you married Joe Blow?” I ask, while slightly poking her eyebrow after each syllable. “If you had married Joe Blow, you would be stressed out of your mind, living from paycheck to paycheck! Your credit cards would be up to the max! You would be renting an apartment, not owning your own home! You and your 9 to 5 ass husband
would be broke! That would be your last name, Joe and Love Broke.”

  “No, but instead of stressing over money, I’m worried about my husband getting killed on the streets or slipping up and having to spend the rest of his life in prison. Either way, I lose. Wow, that’s so much easier to live with,” she shouts sarcastically.

  “Love, don’t come at me with that dumb shit! You knew who I was when you met me. I was Cashmere, not Joe Blow!”

  “No, you were never Cashmere to me! To me you were Donald, and you’ll always be Donald to me!”

  I totally ignore her last statement.

  “I’ll never be Joe Blow, and if you want Joe Blow, you’re welcome to walk out that door whenever you get ready! I’ll get over it!”

  “Walk out?” she asks, with a high-pitched voice. I think that might have done it. “It’s that simple to you, huh? All the years I stood by your side, and you tell me to walk out the door? You know what, maybe that’s what I’ll do!” She grabs her coat and storms out of the kitchen. I trail close behind her.

  “Here, take this with you!” I reach into my inside pocket for the two boxes. I toss them at her. “Happy anniversary,” I shout, as I’m walking to the door. “Joe Blow wouldn’t be able to afford that,” I brag. “It would take him a lifetime to save up enough money for that ring!” I slam the door behind me.

  “Donald! Come here, Donald. Wait!” she screams from the porch. I get into the car and pull off, leaving her on the porch.

  She has truly hurt my feelings, but I understand where she’s coming from. She deserves more, and that’s what I want her to have. That’s why I’m selling the house. I’m going to buy a condo in the suburbs. We’re supposed to close the deal in a week or two. She doesn’t understand. All the secrets are for security purposes. I’m Cashmere. I’m getting too much money to live in the hood. It won’t be long before the wolves try to get at me. I’ll fuck around and come home and niggas will be sitting in my living room waiting for me. Then what?

  “Bang Man, slow down. You’re speeding! Are you all right? You look stressed.”

  “Yeah, I’m all right!” I shout. “It’s my wife. Bitches ain’t never satisfied!” I know I’m pissed off now; I have never called Love a bitch. “When you broke, they want a rich motherfucker. When a motherfucker got a little dough, they want stability. They need to make up their minds! They’re not happy no matter what you try to do! They’re ungrateful!”