by K'wan
“Deeds, huh? So Mr. Shai, what would you do to prove to me that you’re not a whore?”
“All I can do is show you the person that I am, as opposed to the person that people make me out to be. I don’t break my neck to accommodate nobody, but I hate to have filthy rumors circulating about me.”
“You talk a good one, Shai.”
“I do everything good, Honey.”
Honey stood there trying to read Shai, but it was useless. He wore a hell of a game face. Shai could talk that sweet shit until his lips fell off, but Honey was far from stupid. Shai didn’t hustle but he was connected to money, which was almost as good. Honey knew just what was going on inside the youngster's head. She had something he wanted and he had something she wanted: fair exchange.
“Okay,” she continued. “We’ll see, Shai.” Honey thanked him for the drink and turned to walk away. Shai grabbed her arm before she could move away.
“So you just gonna take the drink and skate?” he asked.
“I said thank you, didn’t I?” she shot back.
“Come on, shorty. You gotta come better than that,” he said, giving her a wicked smile.
“So you trying to say I owe you something for this drink?” she asked with an attitude. Honey began to fish around in her purse for her money.
“Easy, love,” he said, stopping her from pulling the dough out. “I don’t want ya paper. All I wanna do is dance wit’ you.”
“Dance?” she asked, crinkling up her nose. “I thought gangstas didn’t dance.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her onto the dance floor, “I ain’t no gangsta.”
To Honey's surprise, young Shai was quite the dancer. The DJ spun the new G-Unit and Joe single and the party got live. Shai grabbed Honey by the waist and began to sway to the beat. At first she acted stiff, but as the song played on, she got more into it. They just grooved with each other, not trying to get too crazy, but the mood shifted when “Nasty Girl” came on. Honey backed up against Shai and started to grind on him. He kept pace, but was having trouble focusing on his movements and not her body. Honey's scent drifted into Shai's nose, causing him to get aroused. She rubbed her hand against his face as she continued her little performance.
Honey turned to face Shai and ran her leg up his. When Shai tried to touch her thigh, she moved his hand away. Honey licked at Shai's neck seductively, but never touched him. The whole time they danced, she teased him. She would make sure that he was good and excited, then backed up off him. This continued until the mood shifted again and gangsta rap was the theme. Honey took that as her cue to exit. She gave Shai a friendly kiss on the cheek and turned to leave again.
“Listen,” he said, stopping her. “I hate to be pushy, but I’m feeling you, ma. I’d like to get to know you a lil’ better. Say, why don’t you snatch up one of your girls and the four of us can go to breakfast when the club lets out?”
“We’ll see, Shai,” she teased him. Honey knew Shai was used to getting what he wanted, so she had to bait him.
“Don’t disappoint me, Honey.” Shai watched Honey saunter back through the crowd. Of all the females in the club, Honey had to be one of the baddest. She could play hard to get all she wanted, but Shai was confident that he would beat that. He was a player, how could he lose?
The night dragged on with more drinking and more partying. Shai must’ve danced with just about every chick in the joint. When it was all said and done, he had a good buzz and a pocket full of numbers. After a bit of searching, he linked up with Swan and was ready to go. As they made their way to the exit a scuffle broke out by the bar. At first there was just a lot of shouting and pushing. Then came the gunshots.
Shai was stuck at first. He tried to run for the exit with everyone else, but Swan pulled him to the ground behind an overturned table. After a small stampede, security managed to get the situation under control. Shai got up from the floor and looked at his ruined Versace slacks.
“Damn,” Shai said, out of breath, “fuck was that shit all about? Niggaz up in here shooting.”
Swan looked at Shai and laughed. “Welcome home, Shai. Welcome home.”
Honey sat in the back of the cab, looking out the window. The Temptations sang about sunshine on a cloudy day and Honey hummed along. That was the second time she had bumped heads with Shai and the second time he had left an impression.
“Look at this ho,” Sharon teased. “I know you ain’t over there swooning over no dick?”
“Please.” Honey played it off. “I’m just high.”
“Bullshit,” Stacy said from the passenger seat. “I seen how you was all up on the young boy.”
“That wasn’t just any young boy,” Paula cut in, “that was Shai Clark.”
“Tommy's little brother?” Pam asked in shock. “Bitch, you dead wrong.”
“I ain’t trying to hear that shit, Pam,” Honey protested. “That shit wit’ Tommy was ages ago. Besides, Shai is cute.”
“Bet he got a few dollars put up too,” Sharon said, giving Paula a high five.
“All y’all think about is money,” Honey said.
“Like you don’t,” Paula cut in. “Miss me with that shit, Honey. We know you, like you know us.”
The girls continued to laugh and talk for the remainder of the ride. In front of her girls, Honey acted as if she was only half interested in Shai. She was actually very interested in him. She wanted to see what he was all about. She hoped that her luck would hold out and he wouldn’t be as much of an asshole as Tommy. Shai was a very intriguing character, and the fact that he had a few dollars didn’t hurt.
Shai stood on the line inside of White Castle waiting to order his food. The inside was like a small after-party, loaded with drunk club-goers. Shai was accompanied by Swan as usual and another cat from the block named Snoop. Snoop was a tall, pole-thin cat, who sported a nappy Afro. They called him Snoop because he could find out dirt on anybody. Names, addresses, birth dates. Snoop was a wiz on the Internet.
“That shit at the club was crazy,” Shai said.
“Please,” Swan cut in, “that ain’t nothing unusual. Niggaz get to drinking and don’t know how to act. That's why I don’t go to clubs no more. Only reason I went tonight was because you wanted to step out. Other than that, I would’ve been on the block.”
“That shit blew mine, Swan. The worst part about it was that I had some ass lined up for us.”
“You serious?”
“Yeah, shorty and them from the restaurant. The blond chick.”
“Blond,” Snoop cut in. “You talking about Honey?”
“Yeah,” Shai continued. “You know her?”
“Yeah, me and every other mutha fucka in the hood. Shorty used to dance at Heat when it was open. Heard she does private parties now.”
“Snoop, you mean that fine bitch is a ho?” Shai asked in shock.
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shai. I know she's damn sure a stripper, but the ho part is just what people say.”
As hard to believe as it might’ve been, Snoop was hardly wrong. If he said that Honey shook her ass for cash then she probably did. He would’ve never guessed that the object of his affection was getting down like that. He wasn’t too bothered by it though. As it stood, Honey was just another chick that he was trying to fuck.
After a good twenty-minute wait, the gentlemen had successfully placed their orders and received their food. They decided to post up and try and holla at some of the ladies. The night was still young and none of them had any place to be just yet. Shai was getting the number from a brown-skinned young lady when Tommy's Yukon pulled up to the curb.
Tommy had traded in his suit for a pair of jeans and some Timbs. His forty-inch cable swung from side to side as he approached his little brother. When Tommy hopped out of the truck, Shai noticed that some of the crowd began to disperse.
“What up, Slim?” Tommy asked.
“Ain’t nothing,” Shai said, hugging his brother.
“You was over at the club a lil’ while ago when they started shooting?”
“Yeah, me and Swan was on our way out when it happened.”
“All ya people straight?”
“Yeah, we ain’t have no part in that shit.”
“I’m glad that you’re safe, Shai, but I told you about them clubs. Why don’t you take your lil’ ass to a lounge or a club where they don’t allow boots and jeans from time to time?”
“You know how we do, Tommy. That's just our style.”
“Please, y’all out here looking like three little ragamuffins and you talking about style. You can’t be serious?”
“That's a’ight, Tommy. We couldn’t all grow up in the eighties. Nigga, you just stopped buying tight jeans. Ya Thriller jacket wearing mutha fucka.”
The brothers traded insults for a few minutes before Tommy got serious again.
“Yo,” he said tapping Shai's arm. “Walk wit’ me to the truck. I need to holla at you.” Shai followed Tommy to the truck to see what the word was. “Listen,” Tommy continued, “you know how Poppa is about you being out in the streets, right?”
“Yeah, I know Tommy.”
“So why the fuck do you insist upon putting yourself in harm's way?”
“What you talking about, Tommy? All we did was go to the club.”
“Yeah, but look what kinda club you went to. Them hole-in-the- wall spots ain’t no good, man. Things are different around here now. Poppa's made a lot of money over the last few years. With money, comes animosity. With animosity, comes enemies. We got plenty of those, Shai. There's gonna be a whole lot of shit going down real soon. Tensions between us and other crews are already high. We killing ‘em in the street. Niggaz is sick right now.”
“I feel you, Tommy. But you know I ain’t into this kinda shit. Why you giving me the lecture?”
“Ain’t no lecture, lil’ brother. More like a reality check. You think that because you play ball at some fancy school that niggaz won’t come for you? You better wake the fuck up, yo. Your last name is Clark, same as mine. That means that you’re bound to this thing we do by blood. You may not live in our world, Shai, but its rules still apply to you. Take heed to what I’m telling you.”
“A’ight, Tommy.”
“Don’t just say ‘a’ight,’ Shai. You better pay attention. Look, I know you’ll think about what I’m saying, but you gonna do what you please anyhow. So hold this down,” Tommy said, passing Shai a .32. “That ain’t to be running around looking for trouble, or flashing it for ya peoples. That's a last resort. Always try to bow out gracefully. If that don’t work, go out with lead. If Poppa finds that, you didn’t get it from me.” Tommy hugged his brother and hopped back in the truck.
Shai stood on the curb soaking up his brother's wisdom. Tommy was crazy as all hell, but the boy had plenty of sense. Poppa wouldn’t have it any other way. Shai looked down at the tiny handgun and felt the coolness of the metal. A rush of power shot through him that was almost dizzying. Shai would hold many guns over the years, but he was nineteen when he got his first one.
It had been a long day for Shai. He had been on the receiving end of several lectures, nearly shot, and met the woman of his dreams. Not bad for his first day back. If he was lucky, he might live long enough to get kicked out of another school. Shai silently giggled at his own twisted logic.
“Fuck you laughing at?” Swan questioned, as he exhaled smoke from his nose.
“Inside joke,” Shai responded.
“Yo, Shai.” Bump spoke up from the stoop he was sitting on. “Now that you home, what you gonna do? You gonna be working with Tommy?”
“Nah,” Shai said. “Poppa ain’t trying to hear that shit.”
“News flash,” Snoop cut in. “Poppa ain’t running the show anymore. Tommy is the H. N. I. C.”
“God help us,” Dave mumbled.
“Tommy is handling the day-to-day business, but it's still Poppa's show,” Shai informed him.
“Did you see that shit?” Bump asked, staring at a figure huddled in the shadows a few yards away.
“Who, son with the hoodie?” Swan asked.
“Yeah,” Bump said, getting off the stoop. “That mutha fucka just made a sale.”
“You know him?” Swan asked, staring at the kid, who was nervously looking up and down the block.
“Nope.”
“Oh, hell no,” Dave said. “Don’t nobody hustle on Poppa's streets but us.”
“Let's go handle this shit,” Swan said, retrieving his pistol from behind a trash can.
Swan started across the street, with his crew in tow. Shai continued to lean against the railing, puffing the half-gone blunt. All he needed was more drama. He had intended to mind his business, but Swan had been drinking and he was armed. He was wild enough sober, so there was no telling what he would do drunk. He cursed and followed his team, blunt in hand.
“Yo,” Swan called to the kid. “Fuck is you doing?” The kid started to walk away, but Swan trained his gun on him. “Don’t fucking move.”
“Chill, yo,” the kid pleaded.”
Nigga”—Bump poked his finger in the kid's chest—”you must’ve lost ya fucking mind. You know whose block you’re hustling on?” The kid shook his head. “Poppa's, mutha fucka.”
Shai saw that the kid was visibly shaken. He didn’t appear to be more than thirteen or fourteen. He was too young to be hustling on anybody's block, but the drug lords didn’t discriminate when it came to age. If you were down to bubble, then you could get a spot. That's just the way it went.
The crew began to take turns slapping the kid up, while Swan looked on and laughed. The kid was crying uncontrollably and looking around for help that would never arrive. He was on a drug- infested block in the middle of the night. If he was lucky, he would just get the shit beat out of him. Shai had finally had enough.
“Okay, fellas,” Shai said. The crew didn’t seem to hear him, ‘cause they continued slapping the kid around and kicking him inhis ass. “ENOUGH!” Shai bellowed. Everyone froze in place. Shai stepped through the mini-lynch mob and helped the kid to his feet. “How old are you?” Shai asked, looking at the kid's bruised face.
“Fourteen,” the kid whispered through bloody lips.
“Look at me,” Shai said, holding the kid's face so they were eye to eye. “This isn’t for you. You’re young, so I spare you this one time. Don’t look for it to happen again. Get the fuck outta here.”
The kid looked at Shai, not sure whether it was a joke or not. He looked around at the shocked crew and Swan still holding the pistol, and decided to make his exit. He ran down the block as fast as his young legs could carry him. When he disappeared around the corner, Shai turned to face his crew.
“Was that necessary?” Shai asked.
“That nigga violated,” Bump snarled. “If Tommy were here, he would’ve let us stomp the nigga out.”
“Well, Tommy ain’t here,” Shai said icily. “You’re supposed to be a fucking hustler so act like you got some sense. He was a child. If something had happened to him, do you know how hot this block would’ve been? If y’all niggaz took the time to think once in a while, you might make it off the corners one day. I’m out.”
Shai headed up the block to where his car was parked. Bump sucked his teeth, while Dave and Snoop just looked on in shock. Swan smiled.
CHAPTER 4
SHAI WAS AWAKENED THE next morning by a loud thumping on his bedroom door. The digital clock on his nightstand read ten thirty. Way too early for him to be up on a Saturday morning. He tried to drown out the thumping with a pillow, but it only got louder. “Come in!” shouted a sleepy Shai.
The door creaked open and Poppa stepped through it. He was dressed in a dark-green linen suit, with his dreads tied off in the back. Poppa looked at his wreck of a son and shook his head.
“Rough night?” Poppa asked, sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Kinda,” Shai said, sitting up. “Me and Swan went out last
night.”
“Kicked it around the City?”
“Yep, you know us.”
“Heard there was a shoot-out in one of them hip-hop clubs y’all like to go to.”
“Yeah, Pop. I heard something like that, but we wasn’t there,” Shai lied.
“Um-hm. I’ll take your word for it, Shai. Now, get up and get dressed.”
“Dressed? Pop, it's Saturday.”
“I told you about it over the phone, before you left to go to the airport yesterday. Little get-together for a friend of ours. You re
member Bill O’Connor, don’t you?”
“I think so. He's a cop or something, right?” Shai knew exactly who he was, but he’d never let on to Poppa.
“Used to be. Became a high-profile lawyer a while back. My man is about to get his name on the ballot for assistant district attorney. He's the guest of honor at this lil’ thang.”
“Dang, I gotta get dressed up for some stuffed shirts from downtown?” Shai whined.
“Do this favor for your old man,” Poppa said, resting a hand on Shai's shoulder. “You’ll get to take some flicks with some bigwigs. Good publicity for a promising athlete such as yourself. Plus a few of the girls from a few of the pro cheerleading squads are coming out.”
At the sound of that, Shai rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Okay, Pop. I’ll get dressed and be down in a few.”
“Okay. Thanks, son.” Poppa walked out of the room leaving Shai to get himself together.
Shai was still a little hungover, but the thought of partying with industry chicks motivated him. He slunk over to his walk-in closet and began the task of finding the proper outfit. As he looked over the extensive wardrobe, a particular ‘fit caught his eye. He fingered the suit and recalled its origins. It had been a gift from one of his father's business associates, an Italian designer whose name escaped him at the moment. It would do nicely.
Shai went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips looked like powdered donuts. He turned on the hot water in the shower while he twisted a joint. When he lit it, he leaned out of the bathroom window so the smell wouldn’t carry.