Hoodlum

by K'wan

  Gator paused and ducked into a doorway as the police car sped by. He knew he was in a bad way and had to get the hell out of Florida. When the coast was clear, he resumed his walk.

  The night air whipped against his bare arms, causing chill bumps to run up and down his limbs. He cursed himself again for having to throw away his baseball jacket, but there was no way he could’ve kept it. In addition to being filthy with soot, it was stained with the security guard's blood. He could’ve let the young white guy go, but why risk it? Gator put two in the guard and set him and the station wagon ablaze. By killing him, Gator had time to think about his next move.

  He had a few dollars on him, but hardly enough to make an inconspicuous exit from the state of Florida. If he stayed, his days would be numbered. He needed to get gone, but had no way to do so on his own. With nowhere else to turn, Gator stopped at a pay phone outside of a McDonald's and placed a collect call to New York.

  Poppa sat in his office going over some last-minute details for his retirement/launch party. This party was going to be the event of the year. Poppa had invited any and every heavy hitter he knew to come out and celebrate with him. Not only was he getting out of the game, but he had an investment on the ball that was sure to make him richer than he already was. This was cause to celebrate indeed.

  A soft knock on the door brought Poppa's attention to his study door. “Come on in,” he yelled out.

  Butch stuck his head into the office. Butch was Poppa's bodyguard. He was about six feet and weighed maybe two hundred pounds, but contrary to how he might’ve looked the man was very dangerous. Butch served in Desert Storm as a member of an elite group called the Bone Collectors. They would seek out sacked villages and military structures and finish off any- and everyone who might’ve survived the initial attack.

  When Butch came home and Uncle Sam kicked him in the ass and told him to try and live off $567 a month, Poppa scooped him up. Butch had been putting people to sleep for the drug lord ever since.

  “Poppa, you busy?” Butch asked.

  “Nah, what's up, Butch?”

  “Mo Black is here to see you.”

  “Oh, you can send him in.”

  Butch nodded and dipped back into the hallway. A few seconds later Mo Black came strutting into Poppa's office. Mo was a very plain-looking character. He had an even brown complexion with a light mustache and a close fade. He was wearing a pair of JCPenney slacks and plain black leather jacket. To look at him, you’d never know that he made Poppa hundreds of thousands of dollars a year selling Ecstasy and angel dust.

  Poppa had Mo living in a quiet town in upstate New York. To his neighbors, he was just a guy who owned a small moving and storage company, and lived quietly with his wife and kids. But it was all a lie.

  The woman was Mo's girlfriend, Vivian. She was just as scandalous as he was. The kids were her sister's foster children. The sis

  ter was so high off crack most of the time that she never bothered to question why Vivian had offered to take the kids in. She didn’t re

  ally care. All she knew was that she got to keep the foster care check that Vivian received for them once a month.

  Mo used the moving company, which Poppa had financed, to ship large quantities of product inside the furniture. They would take people's furniture apart, pack it with the work, then they’d put it back together again. They paid off local troopers along the route just to minimize the hassle. By the time the furniture reached its destination, the truck had already been intercepted along the way and the drugs off-loaded. They were so efficient that people never even knew that they were paying to ship narcotics all over the eastern United States.

  “Mo Black,” Poppa said, smiling. “What it is, brother?”

  “Poppa Clark,” Mo said, embracing his elder. “Good to see you.”

  “So what goes on in hick's ville?”

  “You know how it is, Poppa. Why you had to stick me in that mud hole, is beyond me.”

  “Because that's the last place the police would think to look for a damn dust plant, young’n. So what you got for me?”

  “As always I come correct, Poppa. Pve got one and a half in the trunk and I got another one and a half for you on the come around.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” Poppa smiled. “Your money is always on time, son.”

  “Of course it is. I just don’t see why the hell I’m stuck in Klan Land to prove it.”

  “Mo, how can you not see the beauty in it? With you being way up in west bumblefuck you don’t have to deal with these knuckle- headed-ass kids. Besides that, you still get to maintain a fairly low profile. Silence is golden.”

  “Something that I’ve been exercising since I came to work for you six years ago. I’ve watched and learned from the greatest. Poppa, if I live to be a thousand your jewels will still be embedded in my brain.”

  “I know, Mo. That's why you’re one of my closest lieutenants.”

  “True. So what's going down on the streets, Poppa?”

  “Mo’ money, mo’ problems.”

  “This is the game we play,” Mo said, grinning. “We all know the stakes before we roll the dice.”

  “Ain’t this some shit,” Poppa said, chuckling. “I brought you into the game and you’re dropping jewels on me?”

  “Hey, we all learn something new every day.”

  “So how we looking on that new town? I heard it's sweet up there.”

  “Oh, that's coming along nicely, but there are a few setbacks. I’m having a little trouble out of some Jersey cats that already had something going out that way.”

  “What they slinging?”

  “Mostly rock. A lil’ powder here and there.”

  “So why don’t they just fall back? You only sell dust, Mo. I don’t see how that's gonna step on their toes any.”

  “I tried to explain it to the kids like that, but you know how niggaz is. Always wanna see who can poke their chest out the furthest.”

  “I can dig it,” Poppa said, lighting a cigar. “I know you and your peoples ain’t really the killing kind, so you want me to send somebody up there?”

  “That might not be such a bad idea.”

  “Okay. I’ll get in touch with Priest.”

  “Hold on. No offense Poppa, but I don’t want Priest around my business. That cat spooks me.”

  “Okay. So maybe I’ll put one of the other soldiers on it. Swan might be good for this one. Or the new kid, Legs.”

  “Whoever. Just keep Priest down here with you.”

  “Scary ass. So when you want this problem addressed, Mo?”

  “Shit, we can leave whenever. The only reason I’m staying in town for more than a day is because of the meeting, but we can han

  dle it right after that,” Mo said, standing.

  He shook Poppa's hand and left the office. Poppa liked Mo and didn’t really care for the idea that some out-of-town cats had tried him. Poppa would be sure that they answered for it though. His influence and power stretched a long way and they were going to find out that you don’t fuck with Poppa Clark's family.

  Shortly after his conversation with Mo, Poppa's cell rang. The caller ID flashed a Florida number. Poppa still dealt with quite a few people down that way, but only a select few had his cell number. He hit the TALK button and listened as the caller spoke frantically. “Uncle T, I need your help.”

  After the game, Shai dropped Swan off and went back to the house. He was glad to get a chance to get out and stretch his legs. It hadbeen a while since he had been on the court. The whole time he was balling, he kept imagining that he was still in school playing ball. The roar of the crowd, the thrill of taking that last-minute shot. Shai missed that more than anything.

  Basketball had always been his one true love. He had caught the bug when he was about four years old. Poppa and some of his buddies were watching the Lakers game on television and Shai had slipped in with them. From the moment he saw Magic Johnson handle the rock, he was hooked. Shai sat there and
watched the whole game without uttering a word. He wanted to be just like Magic.

  Shai had been careless with his dream. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to bet on the games. It kept extra bread in his pocket and made him popular with some of the more unsavory characters on campus. What he didn’t think of was getting caught. For an extra few hundred dollars a day, Shai nearly destroyed his dream.

  Between what Poppa gave him and his other hustles, Shai was good. His problem was that he had gotten greedy. He saw what kind of money the white boys were making and wanted in. He had a lot, but he needed to have it ali. Greed was the downfall of many a man, and in that capacity, Shai was no different.

  Now he was dangling in limbo. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be able to get into another school, but the question was, how long would it take? Shai shrugged, ‘cause there was nothing else he could do at the moment. The summer was fast approaching, so his little dilemma would have to wait until fall. He was back home until further notice, so he decided to just ride it out.

  The house was quiet, so he figured his siblings were out. Shai glanced around at the expensively furnished mansion and dreamed of the day when he would have one of his own. Unlike Tommy, Shai was determined to make his own mark on the world. He climbed the carpeted steps and headed to his domain. When he got to his bedroom, Poppa was standing near the bookshelf, looking at some of his old trophies.

  “ ’Sup, old man?” Shai said coolly. In his mind, he was preparing himself for another speech. This was something that he really didn’t need at the moment. He had to get dressed and meet back up with Swan, so they could hit the streets.

  “Hey, Slim,” Poppa said, removing one of the trophies from the shelf. “Hope you don’t mind. I was just in here reminiscing. You always were the athletic one.” Poppa held up the trophy.

  “You know how I do,” Shai responded, jump shooting a pair of socks into the laundry hamper.

  “Sure ya right.” Poppa smirked.

  “So, you ready for retirement?”

  “I really can’t say, Shai.”

  “What's the matter, Poppa? I thought this was what you wanted?”

  “It is, Slim,” Poppa assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been in them streets a lot of years. Some people don’t get a chance to step off.”

  “You did.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did. I can’t lie though, I’m gonna miss them streets. They’ve been good to an old man. They fed me and in return, I treated them fair. While I was running the show, shit was smooth as silk.”

  “You’re saying that like it's gonna change when Tommy takes over,” Shai said, with a raised eyebrow.

  “I dunno, son.” Poppa shrugged. “See, I lasted as long as I did in the streets ‘cause I kept a low profile and I was humble with it. I treated everyone according to how they conducted themselves and kept the beef to a minimum. Tommy is a different case. Your brother is a stone gorilla. Always in the mix and shooting his gun off.”

  “Yeah, Tommy is ‘bout his business,” Shai said, smiling.

  “Lil’ nigga, please.” Poppa waved him off. “Let me drop a jewel on you, son. Just because you drop a nigga or two, don’t make you ‘bout nothing. You gotta know when to talk and when to fight, son. Tommy is gonna make himself hotter than a firecracker in themstreets. I keep trying to tell him to let the soldiers handle certain shit, but your brother and that damn temper of his.” Poppa shook his head.

  “So why don’t you pick someone else?” Shai asked.

  “Because Tommy is my blood. By right, this is his. He's earned it.”

  “And what about me?” Shai questioned. “What have I earned?”

  “You’ve earned the chance to be something in life,” Poppa said seriously.

  “Wow,” Shai said sarcastically.

  “Don’t be funny, Shai. I’m serious. You might think that this life is all about spending money and driving big cars, but there's two sides to every coin. Remember, I told you that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Shai, life has a greater purpose for you. Tommy is my heir, but you will be the glue that holds this family together. I want Hope to look at you and see that good does live in this house. Teach her, as I’ve tried to teach you. I love Tommy, Shai. Just like I love all of my kids. He has a bright future ahead of him, I just want him to live long enough to spend it. I’ve tried to teach him about being poised, but it is what it is. You know, I never said this out loud, but I’ve always wished Tommy was more like you.”

  “Like me?” Shai asked, amazed. “What the hell do I know?”

  “Shai, it ain’t what you know, it's how you carry yourself. You’re a born thinker and a gentleman.”

  “Thanks … I think.”

  “Just telling you what I know, son.” Poppa shrugged. “Oh, well. Tommy's a hothead, but he ain’t no damn fool. Eventually, he’ll grow out of it. At least, I hope he does. I don’t plan on outliving any of my kids.” Poppa dropped a few more jewels on Shai and went to his office.

  Shai knew his pops was a wise old dude. You didn’t come as far as Poppa Clark had without having some sense. He’d been laying his gangsta down for thirty-something years and Shai was glad that he was getting out of the game. But in a sense, he envied Tommy. His big brother was about to inherit one of the largest criminal empiresin the eastern United States. He was about to have the money and the power. Damn, he had it made.

  Honey put the finishing touches on her makeup and was ready for the world. It was the weekend and she and her girls were hitting the club. As if it had to be a weekend for them to party. Before Bone had dropped them off, she made sure to hit him for some bread to get her hair and nails done. She had her own money, but it felt better to spend his. The nigga had to make himself useful some kind of way.

  As she looked at her freshly did hair, she chuckled to herself. The way Paula had slipped Shai her number was smooth. Her girl always had a plan. Honey was hesitant about giving him the number, but she was curious as to what he was about. Had they been alone, she might’ve let him treat her to something to eat while she picked his brain. But this wasn’t the day for that; Honey was with that fool-ass Bone. Wasn’t no telling what he would’ve pulled if he’d seen her talking to Shai.

  Bone was always up in Honey's mix. “Where you going, who you going with?” That was his MO. She always had a believable enough story for him and most of the time he went for it. He would give her a song and dance about it, but Honey would break him off with some pussy or a short shot of head and all would be well again. After her little bout with Tommy, Bone had been a comfort to her. Now he was just a pain in the ass. Honey needed a way to get rid of him, but for the moment she was gonna bleed his pockets.

  Shai moved through the crowded club wearing his million-dollar smile. Everyone was greeting Shai and telling him how happy they were that he was back. It felt good to be among his true peoples. The whole scene was a stage and Shai was the star performer.

  Clubbing wasn’t in the original plan, but Shai was on his thirsty shit. Swan didn’t really do the club scene, but his friend wanted toparty, so he allowed himself to be dragged along. They found a de

  cent little spot on the West Side and decided to pop in.

  Shai finally managed to make his way to the bar to order his drinks. He copped a Long Island iced tea for himself and a shot of yak for Swan. As Shai turned to make his way back through the crowd, he bumped into a familiar face. She stood there looking like a grade-A winner, rocking a pair of white linen pants and a black shirt that she wore tied in the front. Her hair was done up differently, but her angelic face remained the same.

  “Small world,” Shai said, smiling.

  “Small indeed,” Honey agreed, returning the gesture. “So, you a regular in here?”

  “Nah,” Shai said, sipping his drink. “First time. How about you?”

  “I come here every so often.”

  “Right. So, what you drinking, ma?”

  “Oh,
you treating?”

  “Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

  “Okay. In that case, you can get me a cosmopolitan.” Shai ordered Honey's drink and it came in less than two minutes. “Damn,” she said, accepting the drink. “These people ain’t never come with my drink this quick. You must be a VIP.”

  “Nah, I just know how to get what I want. I’m used to having my way.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, you one of those confident cats, huh?”

  “As confident as they come. My daddy always taught me and Tommy that nothing's out of our reach.”

  “Hold up,” Honey said mid-sip. “What Tommy?”

  “Tommy. That's my older brother.”

  “Brother? What's your name again?”

  “Shai. Shai Clark.”

  Honey almost dropped her drink as two and two amounted to four. She could’ve slapped herself for not making the connection. The slick-talking brother from the seafood spot was one of thenotorious Clarks. Honey knew that Tommy had a little brother, but she had never met Shai before that day. Her mind told her to leave it alone, but her greed and curiosity wouldn’t let her.

  “So, you’re Shai Clark?” Honey asked, moving closer.

  “The one and only,” he said, smiling. “You’ve heard of me?”

  “Yeah, I heard about you.”

  “So, you know my reputation for being every woman's dream?”

  “More like every woman's whore. I’ve heard of you, Shai. They say that you ain’t no good.”

  “People say a lot of things, Honey. Some of them are true, some of them aren’t. You know how mutha fuckas like to talk.”

  “So is what they tell me about you true?”

  “Hardly,” he lied. “I’ve made some poor choices over the years, but I’m far from a whore.”

  “Yeah, right. Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Honey, what you chose to believe is up to you. I could sit here and shoot you some bullshit story in an attempt to sway you, but that ain’t my style. I let my deeds speak for me.”