by Michel Moore
Zack was fucked up at the reckless way his boy was talking to him. Matter of fact he was straight-up offended. “Damn, man, it was all good when you wanted to hang in the bitch. It keeps the bills paid on that phone you blow the fuck up and the money on your account. Where’s all this hate from, dawg? I thought we was better than that.”
Stone was boiling over with anger and could hardly stay in his seat. “You right, flat out, guy! I thought we was better than that too. That’s why I’m all fucked up. Please tell me that the ho-ass little nigga was lying and just trying to keep me from chin stumping his ass.”
“Come on, Stone, what you talking about? I’m lost.” Zack was looking his longtime comrade in the face and waiting for some sort of explanation for his explosive anger.
Stone swallowed hard as hell and finally let it out. “Dude, dig this here, I know you ain’t got my little niece working in that joint, swing from no fucking pole?” You could almost see blood in Stone’s eyes. Infuriated and enraged, his jaw was locked tight as he waited for a response to his question, or more like an accusation.
“Niece! What niece?” Zack was stunned not knowing who or what he was talking about. “What the fuck are you talking about, man, and who the fuck?” The entire visiting room was starting to look over at the two of them as their voices rose.
“Ty told me you had my little niece Kenya up on stage showing her ass like some common tramp from around the way!” Out of his seat yelling at this point, Stone was ready to kill. “That’s some foul-ass shit, nigga!” You could see the veins in his muscular arms start to swell, resulting in the guards quickly rushing over, trying to contain the commotion.
Zack was busy trying to explain to Stone that he had no idea that Kenya was his niece. “Oh shit! Damn, nigga! I didn’t know that she was your family, I swear! I put that on everything! I’m sorry!”
Stone wasn’t buying it and the guards had to drag him out the visiting room shouting the entire time. “I’ll be out soon and on my brother Johnnie’s grave, it’s on, you feel me? You got his baby girl up there like that? You don’t wanna see me, nigga, you don’t want that!” The door slammed on Stone as he was still yelling, making a scene. Zack was left sitting at the table in shock over what he had just heard.
The phone started ringing, waking Zack up out of his trance. Daydreaming about that visit to the prison consumed most of his time. Haunting him, Zack also reminisced to back in the day when Stone had come to him needing some information about some young cats he’d turned his brother Johnnie on to. Zack didn’t know that the guys he had just met that night were into sticking people up. They were flashing money around, claiming they were looking for some dope. How was he to know their true intentions? Even though Stone never came out and said it, Zack knew that a small part of him blamed him for his brother Johnnie’s and his sister-in-law Melinda’s heinous murders. After all, he did introduce them all. Whenever Stone would come around and bring up his deceased family members, Zack would automatically go in his pocket.
The guilt of what Stone had told him was killing his spirit. And now not only did he have his niece shaking her ass on stage, she was running dope, too. Zack prayed nightly that Stone would not make parole anytime soon. He knew that his now-former friend would be on a rampage and show little or no mercy.
“Hello.” Zack had gotten in the habit of looking at the caller ID before answering the phone. Stone had him spooked. He was looking over his shoulder every moment, not knowing what to expect.
“Hey, Zack, it’s me. It’s all good my way.” Tastey was still looking at the money that was thrown across the bed. She wished that all that cheddar belonged to her, but she had made her ends and was satisfied.
“Come on home, baby girl. I need to talk to you about something.”
“About what?” she quizzed Zack, sensing a weird tone in his usually chipper voice.
Zack immediately cut her off. “You know I don’t head bust about important shit on the phone. I’ll just see you sooner rather than later.”
“Okay, bet. No worries. I’ll be home sometime in the early afternoon.”
Zack had never mentioned his trip to the prison to visit Kenya’s uncle. Vying for time, the money-hungry opportunist was trying to find another drug mule with as much street game as Kenya had, who could be trusted. He was putting together a big deal that could bring him a huge payoff and then he could cut Tastey off and maybe pay Stone some major bread to stay off his ass. He would hate to see her go. It would be hard, but for his own personal safety there was no other way. Greedy, he knew he was already pushing his luck. But, the girl could hustle in the club and make shit happen in the streets. Realizing she was Johnnie Roberts’s daughter, he knew she had that “get money or kill a nigga dead” DNA flowing in her bloodline. However, like it or not, the clock was ticking to let her go, and time was definitely not on his side.
Chapter Twelve
Tastey
It was about 1:45 in the afternoon when Kenya pulled up in the club parking lot. Heads Up had a lot of cars in the valet area, so she had to pull around to the side door. She called inside and had one of the guys on security have the door open. Kenya had more than $25,000 in her bag and didn’t want to risk any fuckups by thirsty fools looking for a quick come up. She’d heard stories from old family friends about her parents slipping up that one time resulting in them getting murdered. Kenya, true to the streets, always tried to be on top of her hustle, no matter what it was.
“Hey, Young Foy! What’s good?”
“Nothing, Tastey, just playing this work thing for a minute. You know how it is. A nigga still trying to get his music thang together and off the ground.”
Young Foy let Tastey in the side entrance and personally walked her up to Zack’s closed office door. On the way up the stairs, he mentioned to her that her ex-boyfriend Ty had been repeatedly calling up to the club asking for her.
“Man, fuck his ass. He ain’t talking about shit I wanna hear! Last time he was up in here trying to front on a bitch, he got his shit split to the white meat!” Tastey was shaking her head from side to side, in true ghetto fashion, as she talked that talk.
“Yeah, I feel you, ma. Ain’t no problem. I was just putting you up on it.” Young Foy really liked Tastey, but he knew the upkeep on a female like her would hurt his pockets something serious. He knew a nigga on a budget couldn’t keep a steady bitch, especially a bad bitch like Tastey. Young Foy left her to handle her business and made his way back on post.
“Hey, Old Skool. Hey, Zack.” Tastey strolled in the office smiling and in good spirits as always.
“Hey, girl, we missed you around here.” Old Skool ran across the room, hugging her tightly as if someone died.
Zack was both happy and sad. He knew if Tastey didn’t go for this last big run, he’d be fucked in the game. Praying for the best, he smiled, hugging Tastey also.
Having had enough of the emotional couple, she placed her bag up on the table, opening it up. Old Skool went to lock the office door so they wouldn’t be interrupted doing the count.
Tastey was beaming with pride. “It’s all there. I didn’t even take my cut out yet. I just counted it to make sure those niggas in Columbus ain’t try no short change stuff!”
“I know you on top of it, baby girl. That’s why I love your ass so much.” Zack was happy to have that money in his hands. He knew that every trip was like a roll of the dice when it came to transporting, especially across state lines. Automatically, he slid Tastey three grand. Add that to the $850 she made dancing at the strip club she made the drop off at, and she had close to four grand. That was a hellava good night’s work.
Tastey gathered her pay and was about to make tracks, when Zack stopped her. “Hold tight. I needed to discuss a proposition with you. I know it’ll be worth your while.”
“Well damn, let me take a seat. I’ve been driving all morning and still haven’t eaten.” Tastey, overly cautious, had to make sure to drive the speed limit and watch out for t
he state boys.
“Let me get you something from the kitchen. Sit your ass down and chill. You know I got you, baby.” Old Skool listened to Tastey’s order and took it down to the kitchen. It would give Zack time to hopefully work his game.
“Look, I’m gonna give it to you straight, like I always do. That trip you just came back from will more than likely be the last road trip I need you to make for me.”
Tastey was tired as hell, but that statement from Zack woke her all the way up. “Dang gee, dude, why you saying that?”
“Girl, you’ve been on the highway making the same trips every few weeks. And I don’t want them troopers to get familiar with seeing your face. I was thinking about letting the new girl, Spice, do her thang and make some extra money. She seems like good people.” Zack could see the angry look on Tastey’s face. “Look, sweetheart, I ain’t trying to stop your flow. I’m only trying to look out.”
“Yeah, I know, but I need to stack a little bit more loot.” Tastey knew that the house that she and London jointly owned would hopefully be sold soon. When that happened, she wanted to have enough money to buy herself a little crib out in the suburbs, maybe even out of Michigan. To accomplish that, Kenya needed all the cash she could make, legal or illegal.
“I do have something else popping. It’s kinda different from the driving thing.”
Tastey was all in and Zack could tell. “Tell me what it is and what exactly I have to do.”
“Well, first of all, are you scared to fly?” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
“Naw, my people used to take me on trips when I was younger.” Zack knew that she was talking about her uncle, his boy Stone. He got a chill when he even though about his name. “I ain’t scared at all!” she blurted out like a G.
Zack explained to her that his buddy Deacon and his boy Storm had opened up a new strip club down in Texas named Alley Cats and he was trying to get a few girls from Detroit to bring some flavor to his place. Zack also went on to tell her that Deacon and Storm needed some product to move, so that they could finance some major remodeling they wanted to do.
“All you have to do is fly out there once, maybe twice, and it’s a wrap. I’ll pay you $5,500 for each trip.”
“Damn, how much shit is it? I mean how much do I collect from Deacon, Storm, or whoever?” Tastey was all for it, but she had to see exactly how the program itself was supposed to play out.
Old Skool came back with her food and they all chopped it up, devising a solid game plan for Tastey. After talking and eating, Tastey headed home to take a long hot bath and think. She also was going to call her twin to check in on her. For some reason, the girls seemed to always miss the other’s calls. London was submerged deep in her new life and Kenya wasn’t hating. She was truly happy for her.
“Hey, Fatima. How you doing, girl?” Kenya was over all that silliness of being jealous of her sister’s friendship with her roommate.
Fatima was also happy to hear Kenya’s voice. She knew that London was starting to get worried about her twin because the two hadn’t spoken in over a week, which seemed abnormal even in Fatima’s eyes.
“Hey, Kenya, girl, we’ve been wondering where you been hiding out at. Let me run and get your sister. She’s at the end of the hall, passing out some fliers for the upcoming meeting. You ought to come up and see your sister throwing down on her speeches. A lot of important people are going to be there. She’s gonna blaze the stage, for real!”
“I ain’t know ol’ girl was getting at they heads like that. You make her sound like a li’l London X.”
Both Fatima and Kenya giggled as Fatima waved down the hall to her roommate, holding the phone up. “She’s on her way now. You grew up with the chic, you know she gotta get her last words in.” Kenya was in total agreement with Fatima.
“Hello, this is Miss Roberts.”
“Oh, damn. I ain’t know we was all formal. Excuse the fuck outta me!” Kenya, teasing, was sounding uppity, snapping her fingers.
“Oh my God! Fatima didn’t tell me it was you. She just handed me the phone, started smiling, and left out. Where in the hell have you been?”
“I’ve been around, here and there, Ohio, Chi-town, and a few days in upstate New York.” Kenya was trying to play that shit off, but in reality, she thought she was Big Willie, low-key.
“I thought you fell your behind off the face of the earth. Don’t you ever check your messages?” London wasn’t going to let her twin sister get away with avoiding her calls without an explanation.
Kenya went into detail about Ty’s visit up to her job and all the times that he called her house and the club. “Sis, I don’t even listen to them crybaby messages he be leaving. I just push delete and keep on stepping. That crazy fool even left a letter on my car. I tore that shit up and threw it in the street, fuck even reading his bullshit. That nigga been a liar since conception!”
“Dang, what did you do to him? He seems like a stalker. You need to press charges against him or something.” London was concerned for her sister’s safety first and foremost.
“Yeah, you right, but forget his trick-ass. He got dealt with proper. Anyway, I heard you up there doing the damn thang.” Kenya was hyping her sister up.
“Yeah, I guess you could say I’m doing a li’l somethin’-somethin’ as you say!”
Kenya was glad to know that all was well with London and she was doing big things. “So, I heard you got a big rally next weekend?”
London sighed. “Hey, why don’t you come up and spend the whole weekend with me? I miss you.”
“I wish I could, London, but I’m going to be in Texas and I don’t know exactly when I might be back.” Kenya hated disappointing her twin but business came first.
London was understanding of the situation, telling Kenya to do what made her happy. However, she had no idea that her sister was being a drug mule for the man their uncle considered partially to blame for their parents’ untimely death. Kenya was part of the system that London was trying so hard to endlessly fight. London hated drugs and everything and everybody affiliated with them. Drugs made her and her sister orphans as far as she was concerned, and this was the outlook that she kept in the back of her mind whenever she made a speech.
“Well, London, I’m about to go to bed. I’m so tired that I’m about to fall asleep on this phone.”
London hated to let her sister go, but was happy just to hear from her. “Hey, before you go, have you heard from Uncle lately?”
Kenya was apprehensive about talking about their uncle. Ever since she saw that picture of him in Zack’s office, she had been avoiding his collect calls. Between him and Ty, she got used to turning the ringer off and pushing ignore. “He tried to call a few times, but I wasn’t home. But if he calls you, tell him I still love him.”
“Okay, then. I love you, Kenya.”
Kenya lay back and smiled. “Say U Promise!”
Tastey
“You got everything packed the way we planned?” Zack was a little more than anxious about what was about to take place. With more than $65,000 worth of raw dope on the line, he took his time to go over the game plan repeatedly. “Listen up, Tastey, this is some major shit about to take place and we don’t want or need any mistakes. Your freedom and my credibility is on the line. It took me and my people more than a week to negotiate on this deal. My people wants to take delivery of this shit almost as bad as I want to move it.”
Tastey was trying her best to ease Zack’s mind. “Be easy, I remember everything you said. The shit is twisted extra tight and double wrapped in triple plastic. Old Skool put cotton around it and then we put two more pieces of plastic. So chill, damn!”
“I ain’t gonna be easy until your ass call me from the hotel telling me you made it.” Zack was sweating, like he had to get on the plane with the dope his motherfucking self. “Matter of fact, I won’t be happy until you meet up with Deacon and Storm and get my cash. I love them niggas like brothers and everything, but fuc
k the dumb stuff. I wanna see my money in hand. You feel me?”
“Listen, Zack, if you keep talking, I’m gonna miss my flight. You starting to mess with my good karma I got going on. Don’t fuck my mind up. I need to be straight-up focused.” Tastey was giving him a crazy look like, “Negro, please shut up!”
“Let her go. She’s got her stuff together. You know that. When has she ever let you down?” Old Skool jumped in as she patted Zack on his back. “Relax!”
Zack watched Tastey and Brother Rasul pull out the parking lot and he wiped the sweat off his brow. In between letting that much dope out his sight and his conscience kicking his ass constantly about crossing Stone even though he knew the consequences, he was sick to his soul. Zack was losing weight and staying paranoid at the world and anyone in it.
After a long ride on a traffic-filled highway, Brother Rasul reached the airport. Tastey and he talked all the way there. “When I first met you, I knew it was something different about you, Sister Kenya.”
Tastey was kinda thrown off because, it was the one and only time that he’d ever addressed her by her true real government name.
With conviction, he looked her in her eyes and spoke from his heart. “Have pride, young sister. Don’t let the planted seeds of evil entice you from your true mission in life. Remember, I always got your back, even when you think I don’t!”
Tastey grabbed Brother Rasul’s hand and reassured him before she got out the car that this would be the only time that she’d be doing something this dangerous.
“Be safe, little sister, be safe.” He headed back to the club to get ready for a long night filled with several reserved spot parties booked.