From Harlem with Love

by K'wan Foye

  “I came to see how Nancy was doing.” He said, barely able to find his voice.

  “She’s fine, no thanks to you and your shenanigans, Harlem,” she said his name as if it left a foul taste in her mouth. “If you wanna go in the street and do the devil’s work that’s fine by me, but you ain’t gonna drag my daughter and my grand baby down that slow road to hell with you!”

  “Mommy?” Nancy was beginning to stir from her drug induced sleep.

  “You just rest now, baby. Mama is here and everything is going to be fine.” Mrs. Brown stroked Nancy’s forehead.

  “Hey, baby,” Harlem stepped around Mrs. Brown and knelt at Nancy’s bedside. To his surprise she turned away from him. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Harlem, why are you here?” Nancy asked, not bothering to look at him.

  “I…I came to see if you were okay?” he told her.

  Nancy turned around with tears and fire in her eyes. “Does it look like I’m okay? I got shot behind the shit y’all got going on in the projects!”

  Her accusation cut him like a knife. “I’m so sorry, Nancy. I never meant for you to get caught up in this. If only you had listened to me and stayed away from the projects.”

  Nancy gave him an appalled look. “Is that what you’ve been telling yourself to try and ease the guilt of knowing your bullshit caused this? That guy tried to kill me Harlem because he thought I was you!”

  “I know, baby, and I promise I’m going to make this right.” He vowed.

  “How by going out and killing him? Then what happens, one of his people try to get back at you and we start this all over again? What would’ve happened if Precious had been in the car with me instead of Nene?” The tears that had been restricted to her eyes were now rolling down her cheeks.

  “Nancy, don’t think like that. I love you and Precious more than anything and couldn’t stand the thought of losing either of you.” He said.

  “But you don’t love us enough to stop hustling.” She accused. “Harlem I’ve been begging you for years to stop hustling but you couldn’t and now look what’s happened. When I leave this hospital I’ve got to burry my best friend, all because she was taking a ride with me. Ain’t nothing on these streets but death, but you don’t see it, do you?”

  “Nancy, I promise that once all this is over…” he began but she cut him off.

  “Save it Harlem because I’ve heard this promise a thousand times before and you have yet to keep it. Harlem I’ve got a little girl out there that needs me around to raise her, if her father wants to throw his life away then that’s on him, but I want to live. I want to live for me and my baby.”

  “I want to live for y’all and with y’all. We can work this out.” He reached for her hand but she pulled away.

  “Harlem you and I both know that’s bullshit. I know you and as soon as you leave here somebody’s mother is gonna have to buy a black dress to bury their child and I don’t want any parts of that. As soon as the doctors say I’m well enough to leave me and Precious are going to live with my mother in Staten Island.”

  Harlem’s eyes widened. “You can’t…I’d die without y’all!”

  “And we may die with you!” she said emotionally. Suddenly Nancy winced in pain. “Harlem…please just go.”

  “Baby don’t.” he pleaded.

  “You heard her, get out!” Mrs. Brown stood over him. When Harlem didn’t move she grabbed him by the back of the shirt and threw him to the ground. “I cast thee out, Satan,” she repeated over and over while waving her bible at him.

  With a heavy heart Harlem picked himself up off the floor and shuffled down the hall. Nancy and Precious were the only two things in the world that he really loved and Sha-Money’s petty quest to be king had taken them from him. With each step Harlem took he felt his heart break a little more. With Mrs. Brown’s words ringing in his ears and his heart in his hands, Harlem stepped into the elevator and prepared himself or battle.

  7

  Over the next few days the projects were as silent as the grave. The dope boys were still in the trap getting it on, but they did it without their leader. Harlem spent his days wallowing in his own sorrows and Jack Daniels, while his nights were spent prowling the streets for his enemies. Sha-Money and Fego had gone underground so Harlem took out his frustrations on their associates. He stalked them on the block, in the dope spots and even at train stations murdering some and beating others to within an inch of their lives. It got so bad that people that weren’t affiliated with Harlem’s crew stopped coming out after dark for fear of running into the mad man.

  The punishments he dished out helped to ease his grief but he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he bagged the ultimate prizes Fego and Sha-Money. Somehow they always seemed to stay one step ahead of him. Even Blake claimed to not to know their whereabouts, which Harlem knew was a lie. Blake smiled and acted like a friend but Harlem had been living in New York long enough to know a rat when he saw one. There was no way Sha-Money would’ve made such a bold move against him unless someone put the battery in him, and Blake was the only one who stood to benefit from it. He would settle up with is old mentor but first he needed to take care of Sha-Money and Fego. On the fifth day of his prowling a snitch presented Harlem with some news that made him smile for the first time in almost a week.

  “You sure about this?” Pie asked as he steered the stolen Cherokee down Lenox Avenue. The murderous look Harlem gave him was all the answer he needed.

  “Word to mine, we gonna push all these pussies wigs back. These niggaz wished for death and we’re gonna grant those wishes,” Lamar boasted, slipping another shell into the AK47 on his lap.

  “True indeed these niggaz deserve to die, but I just ain’t sure about the way we’re doing it. Its ten o’clock in the morning for Christ’s sake!” Pie pointed out.

  “Pie ain’t nobody forcing you to come along on this lil joy ride so if you’re feeling some type of way we can drop you off on the next corner.” Harlem said coldly.

  “Harlem you know better than to come at me like that. I’m your brother, if one burns we both burn.” Pie said. It was a pact that they had made when they first started hustling and had kept to it ever since.

  “If that’s the case then slip them gloves on and that mask on because we’re almost there.” Harlem said chambering a round into the Mac11 he was holding. His eyes were wide and alert, anticipating what was coming.

  As they crossed 134 and Lenox Pie and Lamar donned their masks and got ready to play their positions. When Pie looked over to ask Harlem if he was ready he realized he wasn’t wearing a mask. “My nigga, you ain’t gonna put your mask on?”

  “Nah, I want these pussies to know exactly where it came from.” Harlem said, gripping the door handle of the Cherokee as they were rolling slowly through the light on 133. They had had established a plan before hand but when Harlem saw his target logic flew out the window and he reacted. Rolling the window down Harlem pointed the Mac and shouted, “Payback bitch!”

  In front of the funeral home between 132 and 133 there were about a dozen or so people standing around, sobbing and trading stories about the deceased. Fego stepped out of the funeral home dressed in a dark blue suit, with his girlfriend holding onto his arm for support. She had just lost her aunt and her entire family had come out to see her off. Fego had initially tried to worm his way out of going to the funeral but she nagged him until he agreed. He knew full well that Harlem was looking for him, but he figured that the fact that it was daylight and they were at a funeral made it safe for him to slip back into New York for an hour or two. In his mind he figured nobody would violate at a funeral, but he had no idea how wrong he was.

  “Payback bitch!” he heard someone shout just before his girlfriend’s chest exploded all over him.

  The front of the funeral home was swept with bullets. Glass shattered and people dropped left and right as Harlem and Lamar let off with the machine guns. The few shooters Fego had with him tried to return
fire but their hand guns were no match for what the youngsters were packing. One by one Fego watched in horror as both loved ones and associates were mowed down by gun fire. Not knowing what else to do Fego took off running, but a burst to the back from Lamar’s AK made sure he didn’t get far. Pie was about to pull off, when Harlem unexpectedly jumped from the jeep.

  “Fuck is you doing, we gotta get outta here!” Pie shouted after him, but Harlem ignored him.

  Harlem made his way through the mess of bodies occasionally taking a second to put a bullet in the faces he recognized as members of Fego’s family. Fego was stretched out in front of the corner store trying to crawl inside, but the store owner locked the door on him. Harlem kicked him viciously in the ribs, flipping him over. Fego looked up at Harlem and knew that he had come face to face with the devil himself.

  “Please, don’t kill me. I got two kids man.” Fego begged.

  Harlem paused as if he was weighing it then pointed the gun at Fego’s face. “Fuck yo seeds, nigga!” Harlem snarled before emptying the Mac11 into Fego’s face and chest.

  “Yo son, you pushed that nigga shit Scarface style!” Lamar praised Harlem but got a lukewarm response.

  “Harlem, do you know how fucking stupid that was? You could’ve gotten us all knocked.” Pie said.

  “Well we didn’t get knocked, we got away so stop fucking crying about it.” Harlem spat. His mind was already off Fego and on to his next target.

  “We need to dump this car by the river and get off the streets. The whole city is gonna be as hot as a firecracker after what you just did.” Pie said.

  “You mean after what we did,” Harlem corrected him. “Your gun was spiting just like mine and Lamar’s, so if one burns we all burn and don’t ever forget that.”

  “A’ight, we got Fego out of the way so what are we gonna do about Mane and Sha-Money?” Lamar asked.

  “Mane’s ass will be a ghost soon enough and I got Sha-Money faded. I’ve found out which rock he’s hiding under so it’s only a matter of time before we peel his fucking cap back. You just get low until things cool off a bit and be ready when I call you for the next move. Don’t do anything stupid because I’m gonna need you on deck, son. I’m proud of you because you showed some real balls out there.” Harlem told Lamar.

  “Thanks, man. You know I’m here for y’all till the casket drops.” Lamar assured them.

  “Hopefully the caskets don’t drop too soon for none of us. Find yourself somewhere to chill and be ready for that call.

  “No doubt, B. When y’all drop me off I’m gonna grab some smoke and lay up with a shorty for the rest of the day.” Lamar said.

  “Don’t even play the weed spot like that. If you wanna smoke send one of them lil niggaz to get it for you.”

  “Come on, son, it’s only a weed spot.” Lamar protested.

  “And how many times have we all gotten stopped coming out of the weed spot? Everybody knows we had beef with Fego and them so we’re probably gonna be the first ones they look at. Just do like I’m telling you and get low, Lamar,” he reinforced while he dialed a number on his cell phone.

  “A’ight,” Lamar mumbled, not really feeling the little kid treatment he was getting from Harlem and Pie lately. In his mind when he pulled that trigger he became just as much of a man as they did.

  “Harlem knowing you I can only imagine what you got cooking up for Sha-Money’s bitch ass.” Pie laughed.

  “Oh don’t worry, this shit is gonna be classic.” Harlem said while holding the phone to his ear and waiting for the person on the other end to pick up. “Carmen, what’s up baby?”

  “Nothing, thinking about you. When are you coming back through to see me?” she asked.

  “We’ll talk about it later on; right now I need a favor from you.”

  “Anything you need, baby. I got the hammer on deck all you gotta do is give the word.” Carmen said.

  Harlem laughed. “Nah, not like that. Check it; do you still fuck with that crazy ass Brazilian girl that used to work at that spot?”

  By the time the police arrived Harlem was long gone, leaving a mess of bodies in his wake. In total sixteen people had died and since there were no witnesses left the police had no leads. When the news paper ran the headlines the next day it read “HARLEM MASSACRE”

  Harlem had purchased copies of the Newspaper to post the clippings in the lobbies of all the project buildings to serve as a warning to any and all who might be foolish enough think about crossing him, but two he kept for himself. One he had framed and mounted on the wall of his empty apartment and the other he had packaged up to send to Lamar, who had fallen victim to his own stupidity. It amazed Harlem how they could’ve gotten away with committing a mass murder in broad daylight but Lamar’s dumb ass got picked up for smoking weed in the street. When they ran his prints the warrant popped up, which was a violation of his probation so he would have to sit for a while. Lamar had beyond proved himself and his loyalty and when he got out Harlem had decided to make him a full member of the organization.

  Killing Fego felt good, but it didn’t do much to lighten his mood as he knew the job was only half finished because Sha-Money and Blake were still out there. He had intended to things cool off before he made another move but decided against it, as blood always tasted better fresh.

  “Pie!” Harlem called from the couch, where he sat reading the article for the hundredth time.

  “What’s good?” Pie stuck his head out of the kitchen.

  “Hit Sol and tell that nigga to meet us in front of the building in ten minutes.” Pie gave him a puzzled look so Harlem explained. “Its time for that little nigga to get his cherry popped.”

  8

  Blake stepped out of his apartment building into the night air drinking a cup of coffee and reading he headlines from that morning’s newspaper. No matter how many times he read it he still couldn’t believe how it had gone down. He always knew Harlem was capable of some vicious acts but never on the level that the paper’s said. The newspaper article told him two things; one that Sha-Money was living on borrowed time and he’d have to find someone else to put in place in the projects, and two, he had seriously underestimated Harlem.

  “What’s good, boss?” Hugo held the door for Blake.

  “Money, my nigga,” Blake smiled and got ready to get into the Hummer. As he ducked his head he felt something splash against the side of his face. He looked up just in time to see Hugo’s right cheek explode in a mess of blood and gore. Blake tried to make a run for it but an aluminum bat cracked his shin bone, tripping him up. When he tried to regain his balance the bat crashed into his ribs, bouncing him off the Hummer. The third strike landed between his shoulder blades, dropping him. Blake got his wits about him just in time to see Harlem standing over him with the bat.

  “What’s the matter boss, you ain’t happy to see me?” Harlem smiled before brining the bat down across Blake’s face and knocking him out.

  Present Day:

  “Harlem don’t do it to yourself, man. If you cut me loose now we’ll call it even, but if you pull that trigger you already know how its gonna play out.” Blake warned. It was a weak threat, but it was all he had.

  Harlem thought on it. “Yeah, I know. Everybody on payroll is gonna be on me and my niggaz in retaliation. That’s a problem I can live with. Blake, I told you off the muscle that I ain’t want no problems with you, but you did what you did to make a point. It’s all good, because I got a little point I wanna make too.” He flicked the lit cigarette into Blake’s face, and stepped aside for Pie who was holding a .38.

  “No, no, no…” Blake stuttered but Pie had already pulled the trigger.

  The bullet tore through Blake’s stomach and went out his back, tearing holes in his intestines as it passed, but he was still breathing. Harlem nodded at Pie, who handed the .38 to Sol. The youngster looked at the gun and hesitated.

  “If one burns, we all burn,” Harlem reminded Sol of their pact.

  “Fuck it,�
�� Sol took the gun and fired twice into Blake’s chest and shoulder. Blake was now a twisted mess of exposed flesh, hanging awkwardly on the chair. His chest still heaved, pushing squirts of blood from the holes, as he held on to life as tightly as he could. The sight proved to be too much for Sol who passed the gun to Harlem and went outside to throw up.

  Harlem walked over to Blake who was mumbling incoherently. “Look at me,” Harlem slapped Blake’s face so that he was facing him. Harlem braced the .38 under Blake’s chin and leaned in to whisper into his ear. “When you see the rest of my enemies in hell… tell them that Harlem sends his love,” he kissed Blake on the cheek and blew the top of his head off.

  Harlem watched what was left of Blake drip onto the floor and felt nothing. Not fear, accomplishment… there was only the emptiness that had been there since Nancy and Precious had left him.

  “You okay, my nigga?” Pie placed a hand on Harlem’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, man. I’m good.” Harlem said.

  Pie stood with his friend in silence for a while before saying what they were both obviously thinking. “You know what this means, right?”

  Harlem nodded. “Yeah, we’re pretty much fucked. Blake’s whole team is gonna come at us with everything but the kitchen sink.”

  “And then some,” Pie laughed, but Harlem could hear the fear in his voice.

  “My nigga, I’m sorry for getting you and Sol caught up in this. I should’ve done what I had to do on my own and now y’all are marked for death too.”

  Pie just shrugged. “Who wants to live forever anyway? And besides, we’re brothers my G. If one burns we all do. Now let’s get the fuck outta here and get back to the block so we can make preparations. I got a feeling we’re gonna have our hands full real soon.”

  Just as Harlem had predicted the streets ran with blood. Over the next few weeks they found themselves locked in a bloody war with the people from Blake’s organization. Harlem and his crew were some tough little bastards but they didn’t stand a chance against the army that stalked them. It seemed like for every one of theirs Harlem took, they took three of his and just kept coming.