Hood

by Noire

  “I’ma put you out there with five soldiers for now, dig?” He motioned over his left shoulder, and Dreko stepped up. “This ya number two man right here. Your problem solver. Work ya people correct and he’ll become your right hand. Anybody act up, you and Dreko handle that shit together.”

  Xan smirked at Dreko. The boy was still swole behind wearing that number two tag, but he’d get over it. “Both of y’all some skull splitters, for sure,” he told Dreko. “But you one of them young niggas who can’t be taught shit. Just ’cause you 7:30 crazy don’t mean you fit to be no capo in my organization, ya know. You ain’t shown the proper respect and obedience yet, youngster. Around here you gotta be able to take orders before I can think about letting you give some.”

  The next cat up was Lil Jay. At eighteen he wasn’t no kid compared to the rest of them, and that could be a potential problem. In the back of his mind Hood questioned why the fuck Xanbar was putting him in charge of a grown ass man.

  “Lil Jay is gone be your driver,” Xan said, squashing Hood’s doubts. “The Brownsville police are way up on this shit and will impound a g-ride in a minute. I don’t want y’all young boys even touching the keys to none of my whips. You gotta get somewhere like your re-up spot or back here to fuck with me? Lil Jay is ya pony. Ride that nigga. He’s all yours.”

  Lil Jay came over and dapped Hood out, grinning. “I’m ya ride or die, my nig,” he said, breaking the ice and letting Hood know that despite their age difference he respected the g-code and would happily maintain his lane. “We gone do this shit.”

  A dude they called Sackie was introduced next. He looked about fifteen. He was tall and built and had some ice-cold blue eyes. Hood just stared as Xanbar introduced him.

  “Don’t let the blond hair fool ya. Sackie a gangsta down to the bone. One day we gone be able to dress this cat up in a suit and tie and send him into places the rest of us just can’t go. White boys got that kinda privilege in this world. And this one’s got a heart. Plus he got a head for numbers and that’s gonna work for us too.”

  Xan introduced Bones and Riff next, and with the addition of these two young lookouts Hood’s five-man team was set.

  “Remember,” Xanbar pulled him aside and warned him again. “Don’t let none of these muhfuckas think they can run you. If they even try to step outta line you got my permission to fuck ’em up and put ’em back in pocket.”

  Hood shrugged. “Oh yeah, I’m for that. Matter of fact I hope one of them niggas do go bananas and try to fuck with me.”

  “That right?”

  “Yep. I’ll cut his ass so deep the cat standing next to him gonna need some stitches.”

  Xan laughed. “Yeah, lil nigga. You got the right attitude. Hit ’em hard in a brutal fashion, my man. They’ll get the message. Who you think gone try to yank your dick first?”

  Hood grinned. “Man, you already know.”

  “Yeah I do. It’s Dreko. That cat is ambitious but he psycho. The kinda wild-head nigga you gotta keep ya eye on. He the type a’ goon you send to guard a schoolhouse and he end up slaughtering all the fuckin little kids. Just crazy like that without putting no thought behind the shit he do.”

  Hood shrugged, then shook his head in disagreement. “Nah, Dreko gone be easy. He only thinks like a predator when he know he fuckin with some prey. Dreko is cool. I’m already feeling him. It’s Riff who I gotta fuck with. He ain’t smart, he just wanna come up real fast.”

  “What?” Xan chuckled. “You smell that kinda drive on a bitch like Riff?” He glanced at the tall, light-skinned kid, then squirted spit through his teeth and pushed his hands into his pockets. “I can’t see it, but cool. Fuck that nigga too. Do what you gotta do, lil man. Just watch your back.”

  It didn’t take Riff long to step outta line and when he did, Hood was ready.

  Less than a month after assuming command of his territory, Hood watched the streets from the window of an abandoned apartment across from Jerri’s Liquor Shop. Earlier in the day he’d peeped Riff talking on the low to a cat from Ocean Hill who rolled heavy with that rival nigga Chaos. The two had gotten into a dark blue sports car and headed up toward Pitken Avenue. After some long thought, Hood found a spot where he had a good vantage point and made his way into an abandoned building. He sat in the busted-out window for over two hours until he saw the little sports car come rolling back down the avenue again.

  Hood scrambled downstairs and waited as Riff stepped outta the enemy’s car looking warm and happy, then he went straight to that ass right up on the avenue. Right where every nigga in town could see. He banged Riff in the forehead with the butt of his Sig, then beat him down just like he was a pimp cracking a ho for coming up short on her bank.

  “That’s right, boss,” Dreko yelled out loud as Hood gun-cracked Riff all over his head. Riff had people in the game and his family name rang bells on the streets, but just like Hood, Dreko had no fear of their get back. His gat was comfortable in his hand as he stared down a couple of Riff’s boys with menace and murder in his eyes.

  “Gone and put that bitch-ass nigga in check, Hood. We can take this shit to war with an army of two right here, right now. Any one of these boys feel like battling and I’ll grab him and gun-beat his ass down too.”

  After that bloody incident Hood’s leadership and Dreko’s loyalty was never challenged again. Not up close, anyway. Hood was a hard-body soldier and ran his small crew with such authority that even grown-ass dealers had to give it up to him because the nigga was street buff to his core. He was principled, though, despite the harshness of his young life. He forbid his crew to conduct transactions if there was a kid in sight, and demanded they respect the elderly at all times. It was nothing to see him strolling down the block pushing a shopping cart full of food for somebody’s moms in the projects, and when the work was done and it was time to play, the child in him came out and he flexed his thumbs and reigned surpreme on every action-packed video game on the market.

  But when it came to moving his product and collecting his doe, Hood didn’t give up shit. Niggas on his block couldn’t get no credit, no sympathy, no nothing. And as they found out from his dealings with Riff, who ended up in a brief coma for riding with the enemy, they couldn’t even get no second chances.

  But while Riff was a minor annoyance, much more than Hood’s coldhearted reputation had been tested on that day. His soft spot had got mashed up too, and in the worst way possible for a gangsta. Hood had been so furious behind Riff bringing one of Chaos’s boys on the block that he probably would have ended it all and beaten Riff to death right there on the street if somebody hadn’t called out his name and frozen his hand.

  “Monty! Stop that fighting, Monty! You got any money, Monty?”

  Hood was on one knee, his fists slick with Riff’s blood, his sleeves soaked red up to his elbows. Niggas was standing with their backs up against the building giving him room to put in work, and when the bony, light-skinned lady wearing a million fuckin buttons on her jacket ran across the street begging for money, Hood had stood up breathing hard, shook.

  “Hey baby you got something for me, huh?”

  Whenever he bumped into his moms it was painful, and this was the third time their paths had intersected in the last few weeks. One night he had run into her as she stumbled high out of a club, and it had hurt his heart when he’d had to remind her that he was her son. The next two times he’d seen her in the daytime and bought her some Chinese food, then taken her over to Fat Daddy’s place. Fat Daddy had let her come in and take a shower and tried to talk to her about rehab a little bit, but Marjay couldn’t sit still for more than a minute. Not even long enough to spend any time with Moo, who just sat there with his mouth open, holding tight to her hand and staring at her like she was God or somebody.

  But not even the sight of her baby boy was enough to cure the crack demon that was crawling around raising hell inside Marjay. In what seemed like seconds Moo was sitting on the lumpy green couch alone and crying, and Marj
ay was gone again. Needing a high more than she needed her children, she ran clanging out the shop’s door and back onto the city streets.

  Remembering this, Hood stared at his mother and tried not to hate her for allowing drugs to reduce her to the wasted, devastated sight standing before him.

  “C’mon on now,” she said, hopping over Riff’s bloody body as she tried to get closer to him. “I’m needy right now, baby. Tell me what you got in your pocket that’s good?”

  He appeared cold on the outside, but deep inside Hood was crushed. His mother had that classic crackhead-on-a-mission look. Her eyes darted around and she licked her lips, then she grabbed hold of his arm like he was her trick nigga instead of her young son.

  But he held his ground. He didn’t have to glance around to know he was being observed. Niggas wanted to see how he was gone handle this part of the job. Riff was still moaning on the ground with his forehead and his grill busted up. Hood’s crackhead moms had on a mangy-looking rabbit jacket, a short black skirt, and some run-over space boots. She curled up her tongue, then pressed her shriveled breast against his arm and winked at him, flirting for that yay.

  Hood hardened his heart, and shook her loose.

  “Moo up the street,” he answered her coldly. “At Fat Daddy’s place. Take ya ass up there and check on your baby.”

  Marjay smiled and reached for him again.

  “Why don’t you check on me, huh?” she laughed like a silly little girl and switched her bony ass around, her buttons making crazy noises as she lunged for his arm again. “You wanna check on me for a minute? Huh? You wanna check on some of me?”

  “Ma, stop,” he muttered under his breath. She was so dirty he could smell her stank body through her clothes. Just looking into her deranged eyes was enough to make him wanna break down and question his own sanity for selling the drugs that had taken hold of his mother’s life and turned her into one of the walking dead. But how else was he gonna feed Moo?

  “Gone back to Gramma’s house and wait there with Aunt Pat. I’ll come over there later and check you out.”

  “Oooh! What you gonna bring me?” she squealed hopping up and down, her hundreds of buttons jingling as her crazy eyes grew hopeful. “You gone bring me something good?”

  Hood bristled as some stupid nigga snickered behind him. Then Dreko’s voice boomed as he went ballistic on the whole row of cats who were lined up listening and watching intently.

  “Yo! What the fuck y’all muhfuckas gawkin at? Man, all y’all fake niggas turn around and face the fuckin wall! Y’all heard me! Turn around and put ya grill to the muhfuckin wall!”

  Hood grabbed his mother’s shoulders. Dirty rabbit hair stuck to his hands as his boys faced the wall like Dreko had ordered, giving him his space. He steered Marjay gently in the other direction, toward the projects. “Gone back down the block, Ma. I’ll get with you later.”

  Chapter 9

  I’m doin grown man thangs…

  I’m trying to stay outta trouble,

  I’m doin grown man thangs…

  But it’s a day-to-day struggle…

  RATS SQUEAKED AND gnawed the walls in the back room that Hood and Moo shared in Fat Daddy’s shop, but neither noticed or cared, because for the first time ever they were a part of a real family. Dreko, Sackie, and Lil Jay were the siblings Hood and Moo never had, and whether he liked it or not, Fat Daddy was looked up to in a fatherly way.

  But a father to those boys Fat Daddy was not. He purposely steeled his heart away from all that paternal shit because caring for a couple of street kids could be more than dangerous. He gave a damn about them being “just kids” too. Them lil fuckers paid rent and bought their own food, and Fat Daddy made it a habit to show them his cold side as often as possible. Just to let them know he wasn’t fuckin with them on that level. He wasn’t no parent to them and he was no role model either, and he wasn’t trying to be. But he did make Hood and Moo go back to school, though. Not because he gave a fuck about educating them or expanding their young minds, but because he knew it would keep the heat off his neck that way.

  “You ain’t gone have nobody from the city coming up in here fuckin with me, baby. Uh-uh. No way. Both of y’all gotta at least show up at the school house door. What you do when you get up in that mug is up to you. But when Egypt leaves outta here in the mornings, both of y’all gone be stepping out right along with her.”

  Hood was all for that. He jumped at the chance to be around chocolate Egypt as much as possible. There was a bond between them, something secret and special, and he would have followed her anywhere, even without Fat Daddy telling him to. They’d gone from shy smiles, furtive looks, and holding hands, to sharing their first tongue-kiss weeks earlier. And when Hood held her close in the tiny kitchen behind the shop and told her that she was his only girl, he meant that shit from his heart.

  So while Moo started classes in kindergarten, Hood went to junior high school every day and came back home and chilled with Egypt and ruled his sector every afternoon. He hung out at Baller’s Paradise learning from Xan and his crew every night, so at first all he did was spit mental lyrics all day to keep from dozing off in class. He was too exhausted to concentrate on the lessons they gave him until Egypt busted hard on him about not doing his homework.

  “What’s up with that, Lamont?” she asked him with her round eyes flashing and her long earrings jiggling. They had just gotten their report cards and even though Hood was still considered a new student, his report card was full of F’s solely from nonparticipation. “You ain’t ashamed of all them damn F’s on your report card? What? You plan on hustling drugs all your life?”

  “Hell yeah. Hustling and spittin my song until me and Reem cut us an album. Why not?”

  “’Cause that’s some stupid shit, that’s why. Ain’t no future in drug dealing, Lamont. Unless you count Rikers or getting locked up someplace upstate.” They walked along the trashed streets passing gutted-out buildings, salvage yards, and a couple of stray, mangy dogs. “You always talking about how you might lose the words out your head. Don’t that scare you enough to make you have dreams about other stuff? Stuff besides what you got right here. You know, places you wanna see outside of dirty-ass Brooklyn?”

  Hood shrugged as he walked beside her. He was oblivious to the grime and didn’t even notice it. All he could see was beauty. Egypt’s beauty, and the beauty of what he felt for her deep in his soul. She was tall and pretty and kept herself looking real neat and fresh at all times. She liked nice shit, and since her father was the neighborhood fence, she had plenty of it. They passed a corner game of cee-low and two winos sleeping in a stripped down car balanced on four milk crates. Egypt grabbed one of Moo’s hands while Hood grabbed the other. They walked with him between them and Moo grinned up at them as they swung his arms back and forth.

  Hood spoke again, hoping he was saying something Egypt would want to hear. “I’ma prolly check out Harlem one day. I got a cousin up there I wouldn’t mind getting with.”

  “Harlem?” Egypt smirked over Moo’s head. “That’s as far as you wanna go?” She peered at him over her glasses and gave him a crazy look like he needed to reconsider his response. His little dun duns on the corner worked hard to keep his head on swole, but Lamont knew Egypt was always gonna give it to him straight and keep it real.

  “Man, Harlem is far. You gotta take the number 3 train to the number 4. That’ll take you over an hour.”

  Egypt cut her eyes at him.

  Hood felt a rock growing in his pants. He ignored the look of disapproval on her face and eyeballed her long legs and high, bouncy ass.

  “Well that’s some stupid-sounding shit too, Lamont. What about Las Vegas? Or California? Or even Africa or the Bahamas? Brooklyn ain’t everything, I want you to know. You need to open your mind up a lot wider and let some real-world shit in.”

  He gazed around at the borough sights. “LA is cool for the music industry and all that. But what’s wrong with Brooklyn? Ain’t shit
happening in them other spots that ain’t going down even better right here. I’m with Brooklyn, girl. You with it too.”

  “Whatever. When I grow up my daddy’s sending me away to medical school. I’ma be a doctor and get with a man who wants something out of life. Somebody who wanna do more than just grind on the corner trading goods with crackheads and hoes. A paid nigga with a real profession, ya know? Somebody with some education about himself.”

  Hood let go of Moo and grabbed Egypt’s arm, his voice a deadly whisper.

  “Your daddy ain’t sending you nowhere. You ain’t never gone have nobody else but me. You got that girl? You mine, E. Mine forever. Believe that shit girl.”

  Egypt pulled away from him laughing sarcastically, even though she liked it. “You always talking that ‘I’m yours’ shit, Lamont. How you gone tell me who I’ma be with or where I can’t go? Boy, you just don’t even know. My daddy got money and he’s gonna make sure I get the word ‘doctor’ in front of my name. You must gonna graduate from college and marry me if you want me to be yours forever, boy. That must be what you’re gonna do.”

  Hood had kissed her full lips and laughed too, but just those few admonishing words were enough to make him start looking for beats and writing down his lyrics in a notebook so he could eventually get up enough tracks for a mixtape. Reem was already working on his and a lot of cats got deals that way. He even considered taking his schoolwork seriously too. He actually started paying attention in class and turning in his assignments. Since he was naturally smart, he caught up fast, making up for all the time he had missed while him and Moo were living on the streets.

  Egypt saw the effort he was putting forth and she liked it. She liked him. Truly, on both their parts it was love. Yeah, they were young but already they knew. And like a lot of kids in the hood their lives moved at a faster pace than most. They snuck around and found a way to get what they wanted. And despite their tender age, what they wanted was each other.