When I was a kid, I wanted one of those bikes so bad, but we couldn’t afford it. I wanted one so bad that me and a couple of my friends went up to the suburbs and tried to steal one out of these white people’s backyard. The man caught us and held us until the police got there. Boy, Big Ma tore all our asses up. She didn’t care if their parents liked it or not. Shit, she would have torn their asses up as well. Big Ma was tough!
I made a promise to myself that all the things I didn’t have, I’m going to make sure they get. Not having is the reason I turned to the streets. I grew up without, but Big Ma did the best she could do. I remember days when I had to put cardboard in my sneakers just so my socks wouldn’t show through the big hole in the sole. It was then that I told myself that one day, all this would be just a memory. I’m going to make sure Ahmir and Ahmad never have to see those kinds of days. One way or the other, by hook or by crook, I’m going to make sure they have.
For my wife, I had to get her out of that raggedy Honda Accord. I promised myself once I started rolling, I would get her a new car. Well, I’m picking it up on Christmas Eve. I bought her a brand new, candy apple red, Mercedes Benz with black leather interior. It’s beautiful. It’s a two-door convertible CLK 430. The top is jet black to match the interior. She’s going to be so surprised. Red is her favorite color.
CHAPTER 29
Christmas morning
My boys spent the night with me last night. I had Slim set up the basketball court in their backyard. By the way, Slim is finally doing better. He hasn’t been getting high at all. The doctor told him that in order to survive, he has to leave the dope alone. The dope will conflict with his medication. I bought him a case of methadone, so he can kick his habit for good. We haven’t been around each other much. Ever since I’ve been without cocaine, I’ve been concentrating solely on the dope; I don’t want to put him under that type of temptation.
Love and the boys are still asleep. I can’t wait until they get up. I’m more anxious than they are. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. I enjoy making my loved ones happy. I get my satisfaction when I see their faces light up.
I’ve been up since 6 A.M. It’s now 8:30. I walked the dogs already. I parked Love’s car in front, and I have the bikes in the garage. They’re gassed up and ready to ride.
Love just woke up. I hear the water running. She’s in the shower.
I sit in the living room waiting impatiently for her to come out. Finally, she walks in. She has a big box in her hands. She passes it to me. “Merry Christmas, honey!” she shouts. “Here’s one of your gifts.”
I open it quickly. Inside is an NBA leather team jacket. It has patches of every team in the NBA all over it. Damn, she must have read my mind. I wanted one of these jackets so bad, but I just couldn’t make myself spend $2,000 for it. “Thank you! You must have known how bad I wanted this jacket.”
She smiles. “Your other gift is in the back room. Come on; let’s go back there,” she suggests.
“No, hold up. Take your gift first,” I shout.
“No, wait until you see your other one,” she demands.
We walk to the back room. To my surprise, in the middle of the floor sits a 60-inch screen. The play station is already hooked up to it. It has surround sound and everything. On the floor right next to it is a stack of about 20 discs. She knows how much I love to play video games. I guess I’m still a big kid at heart. “Damn Love, you’re the best!” I give her a big kiss. “Smooch!” And a tight hug. “Here, take this!” I shout anxiously. I hand her a huge box. She tears it open. Her mouth drops to the floor when she sees the contents. It’s a beautiful, black, full-length mink with a hood.
“Oh my God!” she screams.
“Put it on!”
She puts the coat on top of her fitted baby phat T-shirt and her spandex shorts. She looks crazy standing there with a full-length mink and big bunny slippers on.
After prancing around in the coat for about five minutes, she finally takes it off and gives me a big hug. “Honey, I love you!”
“You are about to love me more,” I state. I open the curtain of the front window. “Look out here.”
Her eyes almost pop out of her head. “Ooh!” she screams. I shake the keys in the air. She reaches for them. I extend my hand to give them to her. As she tries to grasp them, I snatch them away from her. She grabs my hand with a tight grip and squeezes it, until I finally let them go. She snatches the keys and takes off out the door. I’m right behind her.
When she gets to the car, she walks around it, viewing it from every angle. I know she’s happy, because it’s freezing out here, only 20 degrees and she’s out here almost naked.
She gets in the driver’s seat; I jump in the passenger’s seat. She anxiously starts it up. She mashes her feet on the gas pedal. The car jerks and takes off. “Whoa, slow down baby,” I shout. She ignores me.
She’s speeding down the narrow street. I’ve never saw her drive this fast before.
We ride with no destination. Before I know it, a half hour has passed. I totally forgot about my kids. They’re in the house asleep, and we left the door wide open. “Baby, go back to the house. I forgot we left the door wide open.” She laughs.
As we pull back to the house, to my surprise I see Ahmir hauling ass out the back on his dirt bike. I guess I don’t have to teach him to ride. He’s already riding like a pro. Ahmir is like that; he picks up fast. Anything he tries to do, he turns out to be good at it.
Seconds later, here comes Ahmad. He isn’t riding; he’s more like walking the bike.
“Damn Ahmir, you ride that thing pretty good,” I admit. “How did you learn to ride that fast?”
He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I just got on and tried.”
“Mir Mir, ride me on the back,” Ahmad begs. “Please!”
“No, you ride your own,” Ahmir replies.
“I can’t,” says Ahmad.
“Never say you can’t!” I shout. “You’re the man. You can do whatever you want! Don’t ever let me hear you say the word can’t! Do you hear me?”
“Yes Daddy,” he replies.
“Now, get on the bike and ride,” I instruct. Ahmad climbs on the bike. “Remember, you’re the man!” He rides for about two feet and falls off. “Get up and try it again!”
He hesitantly climbs on. “Remember, you’re the man!” Vroom! Vroom! As soon as he revs it up, he falls. I can see the discouragement in his face as he watches Ahmir ride like a pro. “Later for Ahmir. Worry about what Ahmad is doing. If you worry about him, you’ll never learn how to ride.” Damn, I learned that from Ab. He taught me that many years ago. Never worry about the next motherfucker. The time you take to figure out what the next man is doing is time you could have been using to perfect your thing.
I daze off, thinking about Jake and Ab. I wonder what they’re doing. They would be so proud of me, the way I’m holding things down out here. I wonder if they’ve heard about me? “Daddy, Daddy!” Ahmad interrupts my thoughts. He’s riding now. He’s gone down the block.
“That’s right,” I yell. “You’re the man! You’re the man!” He’s gone. He’s not stopping. He crosses the light and goes to the next corner and the next. He’s still not stopping. “Ahmir, go get your brother. Tell him to come back.” Vroom, vroom! Ahmir speeds off. It doesn’t take him long to catch up with his brother.
I look over at Love. She’s still sitting in the car. She’s now reading the owner’s manual and playing with the features; you know, turning the volume up from the steering wheel, turning on the fog lights, and dropping the top of her convertible. She’s having more fun than the kids. It feels good to make my family happy. This is the reason I do what I do. Their happiness is worth all the risks I take.
Ahmir and Ahmad are approaching quickly. Ahmir is in the lead, but Ahmad isn’t far behind. Ahmir hook slides as he gets to me. I can see it in Ahmad’s eyes; he wants to try it. He slams on the brakes. I close my eyes. I don’t want to see t
his. I don’t hear a crash, so I slowly open my eyes. He slid successfully. “Yes! I’m the man,” he shouts.
“That’s right, you’re the man,” I agree. “Give me a high five!” Clap! That’s what it’s about, motivation. I’m going to do my best to be the best father I can be for these boys. I’m going to motivate them to be whatever it is they want to be, except for drug dealers.
CHAPTER 30
Today is a special day. Not only is it New Year’s Day, it’s also my born day. Today, I turn 37 years old. That’s something in the ghetto, because the average dude doesn’t make it past 25. I feel blessed to be on the streets for this birthday. I spent all the other ones behind the wall. Today, I’m going to spend this one with my loved ones. But first I have to go see Mike Mittens. He called and said he needs to speak with me A.S.A.P.
Out of nowhere, Big Ma comes to my mind. I miss her so much. She would always bake me a three-layer cake on my birthday. She never missed one. Even when I was locked up, she would send a card with a drawing of a chocolate three-layer cake with a golden middle. Big Ma was such a sweetheart. This is my first birthday on the street without her. Sniff! Pardon me. The tears are rolling down. Sniff! I look up to the heavens. I love you, Big Ma!
I pass through my old block. The new owners have already moved in. I forgot to tell you, the realtor sold the house two weeks ago. I walked away with $195,000. That’s not bad, being that I only paid $160,000 for it.
There’s a raggedy caravan parked in the back. The van looks out of place. I’m so used to seeing my car parked back there. Well, that’s over. Now it’s only a memory, another closed chapter of my life.
The block is still empty. Junebug never opened it back up. I haven’t seen him in two weeks. I wonder what he’s up to.
Ain’t this a motherfucker? Before I can even get the words out of my mouth, I see his Benz coming down the block at full speed. Speaking of the damn devil!
As the car gets closer to me, it slows down. Finally, it comes to a complete stop. I look over, but there’s no Junebug. Spook is driving, and the rest of the little punks are riding with him. They have all the windows rolled down. They’re all jumping around, real hyperactive. The music is blasting. They’re pumping Juvenile. The hook is going like this “Acting like a nigga that ain’t never had shit.” I almost laugh out loud. They aren’t acting. They never had shit, and they’re never going to have shit if they keep running around here up Junebug’s ass.
Me and Spook start one of our famous stare-offs. After a few seconds, he smiles a devilish smile and speeds off. One of these days, I’m going to give him what he’s been asking for; one of these days.
As I ride a little further, you wouldn’t believe what I see coming straight at me. I see an emerald-green, convertible Bentley Azure with a mahogany brown interior. You can barely see the top because it’s down. That’s right, the top is down. Today is one of the coldest days we’ve had this year. It’s only 17 degrees and some fool has the top down.
The car stops at the red light. I’m trying to see the driver, but I can’t because he has both visors down. I guess he’s trying to block the sun. The license plates catch my attention. There are two plates in the front. The top one is a regular plate, but the bottom is strange. It’s a European-type plate; it reads Ghetto Diplomat. No, don’t tell me. I know he didn’t do this. He must have lost his mind.
As the car gets closer to me, the high beams start flashing. Yes, he did. It’s Junebug. He’s going to prison. He has really outdone himself, and he’s rubbing it in their faces at that. A Ghetto Diplomat plate? He really thinks he can do whatever he wants. He also has personalized plates on his Benz that read Mayor; his Harley has the letters BLK PARTY. But he has really outdone himself this time.
There he is sitting in the driver’s seat with a snow-white mink on and dark shades. As the sun bounces off his diamonds, you see big, pretty rainbows. In the backseat, he has the Chinese girl that I saw him with, and he even has the blond-haired white girl in the back, too. This guy is crazy.
They’re both sitting in the backseat with matching two-tone chinchillas on. They’re looking straight ahead as he chauffeurs them through the block.
The white one is a flirt. I can see her watching me from under her shades. She wants me; I can sense it
“Cash, what’s the deal baby?” he asks.
“Nothing much man,” I reply. “This you?”
“Yeah,” he answers modestly. I wonder if he can see the hate in my face? I’m trying to play it off, but this is too much. Until now, I’ve never envied anyone in my life.
“Have you lost your mind?” I ask.
“Why do you say that?”
“I got three letters for you!” I shout. “FBI,” I then whisper.
He smiles, showing all 32s. “Fuck em! I ain’t worried about them. I got the best lawyer money can buy. When they get me, I got a few million dollars for my defense.” This motherfucker is so cocky. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, she hot,” I reply. “I thought you were one of them rap niggas when I saw you at the light.” He laughs. “You outdone yourself!”
“I know, but it’s a new year!” he replies. “I’m going to be doing new things. I’m going to make a change. No more playing around.” He points to the backseat. “You see I have both of my ladies back there together,” he boasts. “Look at them riding in harmony, Chinese and White, together. I was tired of living a double life, so I decided to tell them about each other. Either they share me or be cut off. What do you think they came up with?”
I don’t believe this guy. This money has driven him crazy. “You crazy!” I shout. I don’t believe these women are letting him talk like this. They must be more foolish than he is.
“I ain’t crazy! Every baller has a strong woman behind him. I just happen to have two. As long as I provide for them equally, they shouldn’t have any complaints.”
“Look, my Chinese mommy wanted a chinchilla, so I had to get Blondie one too. If I do for one, I have to do for the other.” He chuckles.
I look at him like he’s crazy. They’re both sitting in the backseat as nonchalantly as they can, without saying a word as he plays them. Money sure makes the world go around. If Junebug were broke, there’s no way they would accept this nonsense from him.
The Benz is coming back. He’s coming around the corner full speed. Spook is flooring it.
When he gets close to Junebug’s car, he slams on the brakes. Scccuuuurrr! He almost runs into the back of the Bentley.
“You see, I gave my right hand man the Benz,” Junebug states.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, he’s coming up in the ranks. He’s almost 19 years old. Maybe he can appreciate the little Benz,” he says sarcastically. “I outgrew it! When I was a child, I did childish things, but now I’m grown.”
“I hear you player!”
“I’m out, Cash!” He takes off slowly. The white girl sneakily blows me a soft kiss from her pretty lips as they pass me. I told you she wants to play! He thinks she loves him; she only loves his money, young dumb ass nigga!
About fifteen minutes later, I arrive at Mike’s block. It’s empty. His entire crew is sitting along the curb with long faces. When I pull up, he jumps right in. “Mike, what’s up?”
“Cash, please tell me you have some good news.”
“Nope, not yet,” I reply. “My connect still hasn’t come through yet. I’m waiting for him.
“Damn!” Mike screams. Mike is hungry. We haven’t had any cocaine for over two weeks now. This is a real drought. No one has product.
“Yo man, I’m starving,” Mike says aggressively. “I need some work.”
“Mike, be patient baby.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You killing them with the dope. I’m bleeding!”
Uh oh, there he goes counting my money. That can be a problem. “Don’t you have money saved?” I ask. I know he should have some money, all the coke he’s been selling out here.
“Yeah, I saved some dough. I got about $60,000 saved up, but I can’t touch that. If I start chipping off that, I won’t have shit,” he explains.
“Mike, you ain’t about to spend 60 grand before we get some blow and you know that.”
“I don’t know shit! I didn’t know we would go two weeks without work, but we have,” he says sarcastically.
“Mike, what can I do? I don’t have the shit growing in my backyard. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“I gotta eat!” he shouts. He’s not listening to a word that I’m saying. “Let me get some of that Bang Man!”
“Mike, just hold up for a minute,” I beg.
“I can’t! Let me get a few bricks so my team can eat. They starving, look at them. How can I keep them motivated, if I can’t feed them? I’m not really worried about myself. You’re right; I can’t go through 60 grand like that. But them guys they ain’t got no dough saved.
“I thank you. You gave me a way to make some dough. Look at me, I ain’t never seen 60 at one time. Now I got paper. I got my own apartment and a nice little hooptie. I’m all right. You brought a nigga back to life! But right now it ain’t about me. It’s about my team. Them kids were already doing their thing when I came out here. But they had enough faith in me to get with me. They didn’t need me; I needed them. Now they don’t have shit, it feels like it’s all my fault.”
“Mike, I feel you!”
“You ain’t really feeling me! You didn’t give me the dope yet!”
I debate with myself before responding. I finally give in. “All right Mike!” His face lights up. “I’m only going to give you ten bricks. Just give me $3,000 back.”
“No problem!” he shouts excitedly.
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