The Legend of Johnny Hustle: The Come Up

by Zach Tate

  “Okay Abdullah, thirty-nine, ten, four. That’s thirty nine small, two large and keep the Polaroid’s as a gift.” Yoda told the man that he was charging him $100 for each 35mm, and $2,000 for all the video cameras.

  Abdullah kissed both sides of Yoda’s face. “Allah-hu-Akbar, Yoda. Come back in twenty minutes.”

  Yoda shook the man’s hands and then picked up the briefcase. “Give me my keys,” he requested of the Arab.

  Abdullah pulled a key ring from the top drawer of his desk and tossed it to Yoda. I expected to leave the way we came in, but Yoda led me to a back door that he opened with a key. We stepped into an alley, which was blocked by a large grated steel gate that separated us from the rear entrance of the Carter Hotel. Yoda used another key to unlock the gate, we went through, and he locked it back.

  A rusty door opened into the old laundry room of the hotel. We walked into the darkness, disturbing the tiny foot patter and squeaky shrieks of sewer rats.

  Yoda used a key for his service elevator to come down. After taking it to the lobby, we left the briefcase inside and then exited the Carter. I still carried the garbage bags full of credit cards and travelers checks.

  I stepped along Yoda’s stroll down 43rd Street to Eight Avenue. After passing the strip-club where Roxy worked, my mind flashed on the man that punched me in my jaw. My pace quickened by the bar. I exhaled and knew the route to our destination.

  As we were going up the steel stairs of the Port Authority, Marcy and his sidekick were coming down.

  “Remove your suit jacket and tie and hand them to Elexus with the garbage bag underneath,” Yoda ordered.

  Hurriedly, I obeyed my mentor. Passing the queers, I handed them the items—imitating a major transaction. Yoda announced to the credit card experts, “They gonna be hard. A bunch of Koreans, sitting pretty for an hour or less. We’ll catch you later.”

  Yoda and I exited the terminal on the 42nd Street side. Yoda walked extra fast, trying to avoid being spotted by the Koreans. The Arabs in Camera World handed Yoda a brown paper bag, and we were ghosts. We cut a left at the corner of the deuce and walked into Proverb’s shop. This time it was my turn to greet him.

  “Proverb, what’s the word?”

  “Sheeet. Chill homeboy, while I check the flavor. Y’all back already?”

  Yoda dropped the brown paper bag he got from the Arab, and then pulled out the other paper bag from his waist. He removed $100 from his pocket, placing it on top of Abdullah’s bag.

  “That’s six large.” Yoda pointed to me. “Three for me, and three for him.”

  Yoda opened the smaller bag and poured the cash out on the counter. Together, we counted out $6,450.

  “Cheap bastards,” Yoda uttered. “Over fifty wallets, and that’s it. Damn, Cuz, I’m starting to talk like you,” Yoda said while looking up at me. He split the cash again. “Okay Proverb, that’s six a piece.”

  “Okay, Johnny Hustle got thirty-two, and you got a plate and six. You want the plate now?” Proverb asked Yoda.

  “Damn, this is getting hectic. Alright, hand it over with my license and I’ll be back.”

  Yoda yanked me back down 43rd Street, past the Carter, and back in the same direction as the bus terminal. Instead of going into the terminal, we went into the same bank Frenchy took me to. Yoda walked up to the bank manager. They walked to the back of the bank and went into the safe. While I waited, I tried to figure out a way that I could rob the bank without them knowing they were robbed.

  Yoda’s transaction took a matter of minutes. On our way out, he gave me some more instructions. “When you get a gold plate, open up a safe deposit box and drop it in there. The boxes are safe from the computers, and nobody can tap up what you worth. Hopefully when you ready to fight for the crown, you’ll have a few plates to bet Money Russ with."

  I nodded with approval. As we walked back to the Carter, in an effort to test Yoda, I asked, “How can I hustle a bank out of its money without them knowing it?”

  He looked at me like I was asking the obvious. “Easy. Fund a computer hacker. Have her erase all the dormant accounts left in there by dead people. Or you can buy a Brink’s truck and driver, set up a route, and make a switch. But that’s at least a big mill—or a Mega as we call it—to pull off, and your paper ain’t there yet.” We walked a couple of paces before he gave me a warning. “Cuz, don’t ever test me again. And whatever you do, never try to lie to a liar, bullshaggle a bullshaggler, hustle a hustler, or be greater than me, the greatest of all time.” My mouth was closed after that.

  $$$

  It was one thirty in the afternoon by the time we were back to Yoda’s penthouse. I was exhausted, and sure the day was over, but Yoda was prying the briefcase open. The luggage popped open and reminded Yoda of my error.

  “Never ask me why I’m doing something when I’m blowing off a vic.” I already knew what he was talking about and hoped he forgot. “I told you not to do the last pocket sting ‘cause we was doing the impossible. What good was it to get popped by the heat on the last vic? The heat would of came down on Ozzy, the bus driver, the tour company, the deuce, and the movie house for showing X-rated films.” He stopped what he was doing just to make his point. “Just cause of one lousy pocket? Greed is for a mark, that’s how you feed, never get desperate for things you don’t need.”

  He dumped the contents of the briefcase. There was a couple of magazines, bank bonds, a daily planner, gold Mont Blanc pens, a computer key, and some of the marks personal momentous.

  “Rip them bonds up. We could cash them in, but then we got a paper trail leading back to us. Dump the rest, keep the pens and tell me the name of the hotel on the key card.”

  I looked down on the card and read, “Regency Hotel. Five-forty Park on Sixty first?”

  Yoda stopped toying with the briefcase. He looked up at me like I was lying. “You said the Regency?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yep.”

  He popped out of his seat like a Jack-in-the box. “Perfect. This is too easy. Let’s go.”

  We raced to the service elevator like Batman and Robin, and then onto Seventh Avenue. Yoda stepped directly in front of a yellow cab, and told the driver he was bound by law to take us. The African obeyed the law, without ever knowing that we didn’t.

  Instead of walking into the front of the Regency hotel, we walked into a side entrance that had steam flowing out. The massive space was a full-fledge laundry. Yoda walked around like he owned the place. He picked up two room service jackets, and told me to slip one on. He then turned to the housekeeping section of the basement. In an effort to avoid security, he put $5.00 in the hands of a kitchen worker and sent for a woman named Bev.

  Five minutes after our arrival, the woman I met at Yoda’s penthouse walked up to us smiling. She wore a housekeeping uniform. Yoda kissed the woman, handed her the computer key, and told her that he specifically needed to know what room the card belonged to.

  Bev smirked like it was a minor request. “Wait here,” she said, blushing at Yoda. Ten minutes later, Yoda and I were headed to the fifth floor.

  Yoda demanded that we take the stairs. “Security cameras in the elevators, so it’s best we walk up to the fifth floor.”

  After our hike, my legs and ass were killing me, but Yoda rushed to the suite. He slipped the key in the door and opened it up so fast that we slipped past the moving cameras in the hallway.

  The scent of flowers met us inside of the cramped, dark suite. As soon as we quietly locked the door we spotted another briefcase on a mantle by the front door. Without hesitation, Yoda picked it up and popped it open. In the reflection of the mirror that was over the mantle, something caught Yoda’s attention. He pointed with his chin to a gold watch on a hall table. Yoda tiptoed through the small lounge until he found two flat, gift-wrapped boxes sitting on a coffee table. Like the point man on a strike team, Yoda pointed for me to put the box into the briefcase.

  It was my first burglary, but I moved with so much stealth a
nd speed that I almost had a heart attack. While I was creeping, I thought someone else was walking with me in the room. I jumped and spun with a fist, but I was only looking at myself. My image stared back at me from the mirror on the wall of the lounge. It took everything in my power not to yell out. After my breathing evened out, I snatched the watches off the table and dropped them into the case. That’s when Yoda waved me closer to him. I joined him around the corner that led to a bedroom.

  A plump, naked, Asian lay asleep on the large bed. Yoda was pokerfaced like he did burglaries with naked women present all the time. I was still trying to calm my heart down when the woman made a sudden movement. Quickly, I dropped down on all fours and crawled away to safety. Yoda remained standing. He snatched me by the back of my belt and put his finger to his lips. I turned slowly, about to drop a load in my pants. Cautiously, Yoda inched over, taking big steps, until he stood over the woman.

  Yoda’s thin fingers moved with a surgeon’s patience until the woman’s pearl necklace was in his hands. Once the necklace was off, I was ready to go, but Yoda was just warming up. He reached for her wedding ring.

  Yoda was incredible. He dipped his finger in a cloudy glass of water on the nightstand. He dripped the water onto the woman’s ring finger, and then slowly turned her engagement ring along with another diamond band.

  I silently waved for Yoda to leave the ring, but he waved me off until both platinum pieces were swirling around in his hands. I knew then that we were leaving, but Yoda had other plans.

  I begged for the man to leave, but his finger bounced when he pointed down to the Rolex watch on the woman’s wrist. My head shook vigorously while my lips worded, “No,” in silence. Instantly, our silence was broken. The woman fidgeted, yawned, and then sat up at a snail's pace until her eyes opened.

  Yoda dropped to the floor and hid on the side of the bed. I moved the moment her small head left the pillow, and waited outside the door with my heart pounding and my back against the wall. We were going to jail. In my mind, I could vividly see the jail bars and orange prison uniforms Yoda and I would be wearing.

  I waited for the woman’s outburst, but none came. Since there was no scream, I peeked my head into the room. The woman was lying on her stomach, with her wrist hanging off the side of the bed. The same side of the bed Yoda was lying under. I could see Yoda’s fingers reaching up to remove her watch. After completing his mission, he crawled out of the room.

  Like two burglars, Yoda and I crept into the lounge area. I ducked under the mirror, and we examined the stolen goods. After careful inspection, Yoda placed the expensive items into the briefcase. He then removed the room service jacket while telling me to do the same. Quickly, he fished through the luggage in the lounge until he found two ties and two suit jackets that were a close match to our pants. We put them on and casually walked out of the room looking like two businessmen on a trip.

  We took the stairs down to the lobby. Yoda and I walked out of the front entrance talking about the Knicks and what Patrick Ewing was doing for the team. My heart was finally at ease. We had come off with another heist. As our feet crossed the sacred ground of the doormen, the huge City Tours charter bus, carrying the angry Asian men, pulled up to the curb. Yoda snatched my elbow. We made a quick U-turn, and headed back into the hotel lobby. With a quick right turn, we sped into the dining room of Five-Forty Park restaurant. We watched the Asian vics pour into the hotel. Suddenly, we heard, “Oh hello. You fine gentlemen must be starved? Table for two I presume?”

  A maitre d’ wearing a mustache like Hitler was standing over us twitching his upper lip. Yoda used every disadvantage to his advantage.

  “Why, of course. My friend and I are parched really,” Yoda used an aristocratic voice. “Looking to savor a bottle of your best Pinot Noir, please,” he told the man while nervously looking around for the vics.

  I was busy praying that the busload of men weren’t hungry. Yoda handed the maitre d a $50.00 bill and winked at him. When the servant walked away, Yoda looked at the front entrance for a get away, but the bus was still unloading. Right before we were seated, a Korean busboy walked through polished, double porthole doors.

  “Follow me,” Yoda said, walking into the kitchen through the polished doors. Then he used three letters that would get most hard working New Yorker’s attention. “INS! Health inspector! Nobody move,” Yoda yelled.

  The rear of the kitchen exploded into pandemonium. A small riot of evacuees swirled around us. Yoda chuckled as he pulled me through the crowd of escaping illegal immigrants. At the back of the restaurant, a path was already made with a rear door wide open. 62nd Street was our road to freedom. We walked up to Fifth Avenue and caught a cab to Proverb’s shop.

  $$$

  It was two thirty when we walked into the shop. “Proverb, what’s the word?” Yoda asked.

  “He who is greedy for gain troubles his own house, but he who hates bribes will live.”

  “Yeah whatever. You can say that again,” came from Yoda.

  “Y’all getting busy on the real today, what happen Yoda? Johnny pulled you out of retirement?”

  “Four hands are better than two. Make that into a proverb,” Yoda responded while opening the briefcase. He laid the stolen items out, and then ripped the gift wrapping off of the flat boxes. Diamond necklaces sparkled inside. He placed all the jewelry on the table, examining them with his naked eye. “Twelve large and we got a deal.”

  Proverb pulled out his loupe while Yoda reached for a spare from behind the counter. They looked over the quality of the diamonds, plus the Rolex. After his inspection, Proverb’s gold teeth appeared.

  “Fresh dressed like a million bucks, put on my Bally shoes and my fly green socks,” Proverb celebrated. He held Yoda’s hand as he danced behind the counter, imitating the rapper, Slick Rick. He then leaned forward. “Johnny got thirty eight, and you got twelve. I’ll let mama know.”

  I was exhausted and hoped we were calling it a day, but Yoda pulled out $250.00.

  “That’s the change from the wallets, minus expenses. We did good for a few hours. Just be ready tomorrow so we can do some low-level stuff to cool it down.” He grabbed two brand new wallets from Proverb’s shop, and we left. I was glad the day was over.

  Marcy and Elexus were walking into the Carter when we cut the corner on 43rd Street. I called out to them to prevent them from going to my room and creating drama with Suki. We handled our affairs in front of the hotel. After the deal was done I had $1,000 in cash, two new suits and two pairs of shoes. Then, Elexus passed me a GAP bag full of clothes for the girls. That wasn’t part of the deal. I didn’t want any extra favors; Elexus picked up on my caution.

  “Don’t be looking all fierce at me like I’m a hard bitch.” He dabbed his eye and fanned his face. “That stuff you did for them girls touched my feminine side, shoot. Just take the bag from the fag. You ain’t got to be a girl to like a girl, damn.”

  I laughed, realizing my awkward feelings weren’t going to change what the man wanted to be. If he wanted to be a woman, me being harsh wasn’t going to change that. I gave him a break and let him know that everything was cool as long as we kept things on a business level. Neither of the queers had a problem with that.

  “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” Little Mimi shouted at the top of her lungs. She saw the bags in my hands and started dancing. “Is it Christmas again, Daddy?”

  I was heartbroken, but tried to keep my emotions in check. “No, sweetheart, but this is for you and Keiki,” I answered, a sucker for a child’s smile.

  Keiki came out of the room. She was clean for the first time. Instead of tight dirty clothes, she had on overalls with a flowery pink shirt underneath. Her hair was parted in the middle with braids on each side of her head. Keiki looked like a twelve-year-old. I took a better look at Mimi and saw that her hair was done the same way.

  “Who did your hair like that?” I asked Keiki.

  “Suki. She be acting all nice and stuff now all of a
sudden. Everybody round here be treating me different.” She cracked a big smile. “I can get used to this. It make me feel like I’m somebody instead of mama always telling me I ain’t nothing but a little whore. Thank you for everything.”

  Keiki walked up to me and gave me a hug. Then Mimi ran over and grabbed me around my knees. Those girls were making it hard for me not to cry. It was clear that we had developed a bond.

  “Cats…cats…cats…cats,” Mimi chanted while jumping around.

  “Cats?” I asked Keiki.

  “Yeah, she saw the commercial for the show and she been doing that all day.”

  “Daddy, can you take us to see Cats?” the words left Mimi’s little mouth sparking a light bulb in my head.

  I kneeled down, eye level with the smaller one. “We’ll see one day. Did you guys eat?”

  “Nooooo,” they said in unison.

  I stood to go into my room. “Alright, give me a half an hour and we’ll go out, if it’s alright with your mother. I’ll be back.”

  I set a bath and then viewed the small wardrobe I put together. I was tired and planned on eating with the girls and then coming back to sleep. While I sat in the tub I thought about my life and how the day went. I thought of the way I made over $68,000 in ten hours.

  Crissy floated through my mind, and for a split second I considered buying a new Mercedes and going uptown to show off on her, but the new hustler in me wouldn’t allow it. I was never going to be sucker again. I was Johnny Hustle and, until the day I died, that’s what I would be known as.

  I was lost in my thoughts when my room door opened. Unarmed and naked, I panicked. I jumped out of the tub and ran into the bedroom to meet my intruder, but it was only Suki. Pieces of her wardrobe fell behind her as she was coming to me. Without delay I was aroused.