Hoodlum

by K'wan

  That shouldn’t be too hard,” Mo Black cut in. “He's about a bossy son of a bitch as it is.” The whole crowd erupted into laughter. Mo Black was always saying some off-the-wall shit and making people laugh. He was a good-natured soul like that. Always good for a laugh. The soldiers would need to keep their spirits up in the weeks to come.

  “Fuck you, Mo,” Tommy said jokingly.

  “He ain’t wrong,” Poppa added. “You love to give orders. But seriously, there's something that ain’t so funny that needs to be addressed. Tommy, you have the floor.”

  Poppa nodded to the crowd and took a seat in the corner, near Butch. Tommy stepped up to the front of the room and looked at his father. Poppa gave him the nod and he began speaking.

  “Soldiers,” Tommy barked unexpectedly, “we’re approaching a dark time and a golden age, all at the same time. When my father steps down, we will be losing one of the greatest leaders that the streets have ever known. I know I have big shoes to fill and I can’t say that I will ever be able to accomplish what he has, but I will try with all that I am to do so. I love each and every one of you as if we were blood. Under me, I will strive to make sure that there is never an empty belly in our camp or our families. I come to you in love and with a promise of great things. Follow me and be rewarded.”

  Tommy looked out at the lieutenants who were cheering and patting each other on the back. Tommy was pleased at their reaction, to say the least. In his heart of hearts, he believed in the things that he was preaching to his men. But Tommy was born of the beast, and war was in his blood. He would never be content to do things quietly, as Poppa did. He was rash and bullheaded and his actions would show it. In time, Tommy would probably grow out of it, but time was no friend to no one.

  “Gentlemen,” Tommy said, quieting the crowd. “There is still more for us to discuss before we rejoice. Things are gonna be different. We Clarks have become a force in this game. I plan to establish us as an independent force. No more will we bow to the Italians or anyone else. Poppa and his endeavors with the Cissarros is what it is, but it's about time we put Mike and his crew in their places.”

  “That could jam us,” Lucius, who sold dope in the Marcy Projects said. “Mike be setting that weight out.”

  “Well, Mike ain’t the only person holding weight,” Tommy protested.

  “So, you saying that we should go back to fucking with Poppy and them from Broadway?”

  “I ain’t saying that. Them niggaz is more crooked than the fucking Italians,” Tommy said seriously. “Don’t even worry about it, kid. I got this situation under control.”

  “So what are we gonna do?” Lucius asked, not sounding convinced.

  “Do what you do. Get money, my nigga,” Tommy insisted. “That fat mutha fucka is gonna bow down like everyone else. If this goes there, it's only gonna be two types of niggaz left in the world. Pussies and soldiers. Which are you?” he asked the crowd.

  “SOLDIERS!” they shouted in unison.

  Tommy looked over to Poppa, who nodded his head in approval. Tommy looked back to his crew and smiled. He knew some of them followed him out of love, while others did so out of fear. It was nice to be loved, but fear felt much, much better.

  Swan was supercharged after the meeting. Tommy had the whole crew ready to ride out after his speech. To Swan, it was better than a Sunday in church. The real crowd-pleaser was the appearance of Poppa Clark. The old man hardly ever came out to fraternize with the soldiers, but this meeting called for his personal attention. Whatwas even more surprising was that Poppa had requested to meet with Swan privately afterward.

  After talking a little shit with some of the lieutenants, Swan was escorted by Here to one of the back rooms. He had a lump in his throat the size of an apple. This meeting could be what he needed to put him back on the map. Ever since he had been stripped of rank, Swan hustled day and night trying to prove that he was still worthy.

  Swan entered the room expecting to see just Poppa and Tommy, but he was surprised by the presence of Mo Black. He looked to each one of the men respectively and tried to figure out what was going on. Poppa was smiling, so at least he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Come on in, Swan.” Poppa waved to him.

  “You wanted to see me?” Swan asked. His voice was soft, but he made sure to keep eye contact with Poppa.

  “Yeah, kid,” Poppa responded. “I got something that I need done and I need you to do it.”

  “Anything, Poppa. You know that.”

  “Glad to hear it. This is the deal, son. My man, Mo Black”—he motioned to Mo—”he's doing some stuff for me out of town. He's making us a lot of money and that's truly sweet indeed. But he's got a problem. Some knuckleheads are trying to stop my shine. This is not good and needs to be addressed. Dig?”

  “Yeah, I dig, Poppa. You want me to fix Mo's problem. You got it.”

  “I knew I could count on you.” Poppa smiled. “There’ll be a few dollars in it for you when you get back.”

  “I’ll get right on it, Poppa. Anything else?”

  “Nah, that's all.”

  Swan turned to leave, but Tommy stopped him short. “Swan. You do this without fucking up and I’ll promote you. You’ll be given full lieutenant status and privileges. You have my word on that.”

  Swan just nodded and continued back the way he had come. He gritted his teeth and grinned at the opportunity he was being given. He had been waiting for a chance to get back into Poppa's goodgraces. He knew that he could probably go up there and squash whatever was going on without killing, but this was too sweet to fuck up. Blood would have to be spilled. When Swan stepped to them boys upstate, he was going to shoot first and ask questions never.

  CHAPTER 8

  HONEY SAT IN THE nail salon on 134th and Lenox Avenue while the little Asian man put the finishing touches on her airbrushed design.She tapped her foot impatiently, but this didn’t put a rush on his work. Honey had a full day ahead of her and spending over an hour breathing the harsh nail fumes wasn’t part of her plan.

  After she left the club, she had stopped by Bone's to get some shopping money. She knew that Bone would be coming in from the streets around that time and he would be too tired to want sex. Sex with Bone wasn’t one of her favorite things to do. He was hung like a ten-year-old, but acted like he was a champion lover.

  The little Asian had finally finished doing Honey's nails. She tossed two twenty dollar bills at him and headed out into the streets. As she pulled her cell out to call a cab, it began vibrating. Honey started not to answer it, because the number was restricted, but what if it was important? After a brief debate Honey flipped the phone open and pressed TALK.

  “Hello,” a masculine voice said. “May I speak to Honey?”

  “Who's calling?” she asked, trying to disguise her voice.

  “Shai.”

  Honey didn’t respond at first. She figured that he might call her sooner or later, but she had banked on later. She hadn’t even had a chance to set up a game plan for him yet. Oh, well. As long as she had him on the phone she might as well go with the flow.

  “Shai who?” she teased.

  “Oh, it's like that?” he said, sounding a little offended. “I thought my name was pretty original, but I guess you know a few guys named Shai?”

  “I’m just teasing you, Shai. What's good?”

  “You.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Please believe it,” he said. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come through and scoop you.”

  “Slow down, player,” Honey warned him. “I didn’t even say that I was free.”

  “I know, ma. But you are.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Simple. You didn’t say that you weren’t when I first threw it at you.”

  “You’ve got a smart mouth, Shai.”

  “Baby,” he said, trying to sound sexy, “my mouth has got an IQ of one hundred and twenty, along with three different speeds. You better ask
somebody.”

  “Boy, you’re crazy.”

  “Yeah, crazy about you, ma. So are you wit’ it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “What do you mean, ‘I guess so’? Baby, don’t cheat yourself out of a golden opportunity. I just wanna kick it, and see where your head is at. No harm in that, right?”

  “If you say so, Shai. But check it, I can’t get away right now. Can you come and get me later?”

  “I guess so,” he said, mimicking her. “I’ll give you a ring when I come through the City and we can work out the details.”

  “A’ight, Shai. That’ll work.”

  “Cool. So I’ll get at you later, ma.” Before she could respond he hung up.

  Honey looked at the phone and shook her head. Shai was stuck on himself with a capital “S.” He was rude and had a slick mouth, but that's what attracted her to him. She had a good mind to stand him up, but after thinking on it she decided not to. She would meet with Shai when he called. Then she would see if he could back up the things he was saying.

  Teddy sat in the spot counting up the take for the night. There was about ten thousand in total. Well, eight and a half after he skimmed his cut. Even though Poppa had extended his courtesies to the young man, it wasn’t enough. He felt like he deserved more.

  Teddy gave the managers of the next shift their instructions and left the spot. He and his partner, Tic, walked down Old Broadway and set out for the liquor store. It was the weekend and they were gonna get pissy drunk with Poppa's money.

  As he and Tic rounded the corner, they spotted a dusty old man standing on a milk crate shouting. He was wailing about the second coming of Christ and a whole bunch of bullshit that neither of the youngsters really wanted to hear. With nothing better to do they decided to harass the street-corner preacher.

  “Why don’t you get up outta here with that shit!” Tic shouted.

  “Yeah,” Teddy chimed in. “Don’t nobody wanna hear that shit.”

  “Boy,” Priest said, stepping off the crate. “Ain’t you got no respect for your elders?”

  “Hell no,” Teddy said, giving Tic a pound. “You need to get your ass off my corner before I take out your other eye.”

  “These are the Lord's corners,” Priest said, with a smile. “Would you stop me from spreading His word on your corner?”

  “Damn right,” Teddy sneered. “This is Teddy's corner, not the Lord's. He ain’t got no work on this block.”

  “Oh,” Priest said, moving closer to the pair. “So you’re the infamous Teddy?”

  “Ha-ha,” Teddy laughed, giving Tic another pound. “Yeah, nigga. I know you’ve heard of me.”

  “Indeed I have.”

  With his right hand he wrapped his rosary beads around Teddy's neck and held him to his chest. When Tic moved to help, Priest pulled a silenced .22 from his priest's robe. He squeezed off two shots, hitting Tic in the head and heart. When the young man dropped Priest turned his attention back to Teddy.

  “Ye who hath no faith,” Priest said, applying pressure. “Come into my breast so that I might show you the will of God.”

  “Get off me,” Teddy said, struggling. “Man, you don’t know who you’re fucking with. I work for Poppa Clark!”

  “I am well aware of this, you wicked little boy. It was he who sent me to claim your thieving life. Now,” Priest said, pulling his eye patch free. Teddy almost gagged as he looked into the empty hole where an eye should’ve been. “Look into the blind eye of justice and prepare to face judgment.”

  Priest jerked at the steel wire that held his beads in place and snapped Teddy's neck. Next he took out a stiletto and plucked out both of Teddy's eyes. Once that was done, he flipped over the crate that he had been standing on and retrieved the bleach container that held the battery acid and began splashing it on Teddy's already mutilated face. The icing on the cake was when he hacked off both of Teddy's hands. Once the other street hustlers got a glimpse of Teddy, they would think three times before stealing from Poppa.

  “Come on, Swan. Tell a nigga something,” Shai pleaded.

  He had been on Swan the whole ride back to the City for details on the meeting. Swan couldn’t believe his friend. Tommy had let Shai borrow his Lexus for the evening and all he could think aboutwas what went on at the meeting. Swan wanted to get out and enjoy the night.

  “Just be easy, dawg,” Swan said as he stuffed some white T-shirts into a duffel bag. “I told you that I gotta do something for your father. I’ll only be gone for a day or so.”

  “Damn, Poppa got you on a top secret mission?” Shai asked, lighting the blunt that dangled between his lips.

  “Yeah, man. Keep your fingers crossed, Shai. If this goes down the right way, I’m getting a promotion. No more short paper.”

  “They gonna make you a lieutenant?” Shai asked excitedly.

  “That's what Tommy said,” Swan confirmed. “He says if I perform this service to the letter, I’ll be given domain over west Harlem. From a Hundred and Tenth and Morningside, to a Hundred and Thirty-fifth and Lenox will belong to our crew.”

  “That's what's up.” Shai exhaled a ring of smoke and passed the blunt. “My nigga is finally gonna get his stripes. You da man, dawg.”

  “Yeah,” Swan said flatly. Ever since Poppa had assigned him the task, his stomach had been doing flip-flops. Swan had killed men before, but that was in the heat of battle. This was something different. Poppa had trusted him with carrying out an organized hit. His instructions were to go out there with Mo and inform his competition that he would be opening up on their turf with Poppa's blessing.

  As simple as it sounded, Swan knew that it would hardly go down that way. You couldn’t just walk up and tell a hungry nigga that you were gonna eat off his plate and expect it to be all good. Blood would have to be drawn. At least if the roles were reversed, that's how Swan would respond. Even though he was going on behalf of Poppa, he was still violating. He had no right to go into another man's yard and tell him to starve. But right or wrong, Poppa's will was law. If he had ordered Swan to murder the men and their families, it would have to be done. It was all in the name of progress.

  “Look,” Swan said as he passed the blunt, “I’ll fill you in on allthe gory details when I get back. While I’m gone, occupy yourself with something other than the block.”

  “Come on with that shit,” Shai snapped. “You starting to sound like Tommy.”

  “Never that,” Swan corrected him. “I’m just telling you what's best. You wasn’t at that meeting Shai, so you don’t know what's really hood. It's about to be some shit behind this thing with the Italians. Niggaz is about to turn it up in the streets. This shit is gonna pop off, Shai, and a bullet ain’t got no name. If you don’t listen to nobody else, listen to ya dawg.”

  Before Shai could respond, Giselle came in the front door. She was carrying two large shopping bags and an attitude. She sniffed the air then looked from Swan to Shai, who was now holding the blunt. Shai knew she was about to start up.

  “Damn,” she said, dropping her bags. “Y’all couldn’t light an incense or nothing? You act like I wanna walk into a cloud of smoke when I come home. Pass that shit.”

  “Sorry, Giselle,” Shai said, passing the blunt.

  “Where you going?” she asked Swan.

  “I got something to do,” he said. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “Every time I turn around, you’ve got something to do,” she barked. “You need to start giving me straight answers instead of speaking in riddles.”

  “Don’t ask me about my business,” he warned her. “I said I won’t be gone long. Leave it alone.”

  “I know you ain’t trying to stunt for Shai,” she said, looking him up and down. “Don’t come at me like one of these bird bitches y’all be tossing up.”

  “I’m going to get something to eat,” Shai said, knowing where the argument was leading. “Get up wit’ me on the later side, fam’,” he said, hugging Swan.

  “My nigga.�
� Swan returned the hug.

  “You ain’t gotta run off, Shai,” Giselle told him. “We’re all adults, let's talk about it.”

  “I love you too, Giselle,” Shai cracked as he slipped out the door. As he headed down to the elevator, he could hear Giselle questioning Swan. He slapped his thigh and laughed at his friend and his girl. It was times like those that Shai was glad to be a player.

  CHAPTER 9

  POPPA SAT IN THE back of the Bentley smoking a cigar and going over some paperwork. Scotty had gone over the paperwork three times at Poppa's request, but he felt as if he had to do it again. The closer he got to retirement the more on edge he was. He wanted the switch of power to go smooth and without effort.

  “Here they come,” Butch said from the front seat. Poppa gave him the nod and he got out to open the door for his boss. Poppa stepped out of the car and leaned against it, near Butch. They both eyed the car that was approaching them.

  Angelo stepped out of the car while the two passengers held their positions. Poppa wanted it this way. He wanted to feel Gator out through Angelo, before deciding how to deal with him. Poppa greeted Angelo with a warm smile.

  “What's good, Angie?” Poppa asked. “Everything go okay?”

  “Did you expect any less?” Angelo asked smugly. “You know me and Gator go back a taste, he was cool.”

  “How's he sounding?”

  “Sounds cool. As you instructed, I didn’t talk to him about too much in front of Fritz, but we did get to speak a bit.”

  “So, what's the deal?”

  “Pretty much like he said.” Angelo shrugged. “He did some real dumb shit, but he's pretty sure that no one can finger him.”

  “Knowing Gator, he probably killed anyone who got close enough to get a good look at him. Fuck it. Send him over, 1*11 holla at you and Fritz later on. I need y’all to handle something for me.”