by K'wan
“Move along,” a beefy guard barked.
“Yo.” Legs leaned in. “I’ma get wit’ you later, fam’.”
“A’ight,” Amine said, giving him dap. “It's good to be with you again, partner. I just wish it was under different circumstances.”
“Me too.” Legs turned away, so Amine wouldn’t see the tear running down his face. “Me too.”
Honey sat on the stoop of her building watching the tiny raindrops hit the ground. Her white shirt was damn near transparent and the rain killed her perm, but she wasn’t even tripping over it. Her relationship with Shai had become strained. His father's death had fucked him up more than most people realized. He didn’t care about school, basketball, or anything else. All he ever thought about was revenge. They used to do things together, now she had to make an appointment just to see him. The change in Shai had begun to frighten her. No longer was he the cocky young man that she had fallen in love with. Shai was becoming something else altogether.
“Girl,” Paula said, coming down the stairs, holding an umbrella. “You don’t feel this rain?”
“I’m cool.” Honey waved her off.
“Honey, what's been up with you?”
“I’m worried about Shai.”
“That crazy mutha fucka? Shit, he's just like his brother. He done had damn near every nigga in the hood killed. That boy ain’t hardly playing with these mutha fuckas.”
“Be quiet, Paula,” Honey said, defensively. “Those are just rumors.”
“Rumors, my ass,” Paula declared. “Poppa is dead and Tommy's ass is a cripple, who you think is putting all these niggaz to sleep? Santa Claus?”
Honey wanted to deny it, but she knew Paula was right. Shai had stepped to the plate and taken over his father's empire. She had tried to console him, but he wouldn’t have it. Shai was determined to settle the score. All she could do was stand by him and try not to let her bullshit land her on a hit list.
“Paula, I just don’t want nothing bad to happen to Shai,” Honey sobbed.
“Oh, shit.” Paula stepped back. “Honey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say yo’ ass was in love?” Honey remained silent. “Girl, you love him, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Honey said, sobbing. “I love him, P. I love him and I don’t want to lose him.”
“Oh, baby,” Paula said, hugging her friend. “It's okay, baby. Have you told him how you feel?”
“How can I? I slept with his brother and kept it from him. He says he forgives me, but I don’t buy that. You know how them Clark men are.”
“Honey, Shai isn’t your typical Clark. He's doing some things that are out of his character now, but it ain’t him, Honey. They forced his hand. Go to him, Honey. Let him know how you feel before it's too late.”
Before Honey could respond, they heard a car engine approaching. A black town car pulled up to the curb where they were sitting. Angelo stepped out, wearing a gray business suit and holding a nine at his side. He scanned the block, before going around to the otherside and opening up the back door. Shai sat in the back of the car, puffing a blunt and looking lazily at Honey. When he waved her over, she came without hesitation.
“What's up?” Shai asked coolly.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“How you been, ma?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” Honey stood there, fidgeting nervously.
“So, you gonna just stand there getting soaked, or you gonna get in?”
Honey looked back at Paula, who was motioning for her to get in the car. She cast a glance at Shai, whose face held a half smile and slid in the back next to him. Angelo's hawk-like eyes made one more sweep of the block before he climbed in himself. The engine roared and they were off.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the car. Angelo sat up front, stone-faced, staring at nothing at all. She could remember times when he would have been locked into a witty conversation, or making jokes with one of the other soldiers, but not that day. Things were different, and it seemed that the trying times had killed even Angelo's jovial spirit. Shai just stared out the window while Honey waited for him to say something.
“So, what's good, baby girl?” he asked, still not looking at her.
“Not much,” she said, in a submissive tone.
“Honey, I’m sorry about the way things have been between us. I ain’t trying to throw shade, shit has just been real hectic. Poppa left a lot of unfinished business that I gotta put in order. I’m trying to do everything on my own and still help Tommy fight this case.”
“Shai,” she spoke up. “About that Tommy thing . . . baby.”
“Honey”—he cast his brown eyes on her—”I can’t let what went on between you and my brother sidetrack me. You should’ve told me, but it happened before my time. I care about you, Honey. That might make me one of the dumbest niggaz to drop out of a womb, but I can’t help it.”
“I care about you too, baby,” she said, taking his hand in hers.
“I know you do, baby. I know. I can’t say that I’m pleased by the way you chose to carry yourself, or my brother for that matter, but what's done is done. I know you’re sorry and you never meant to hurt me, but the question is, will you make this right?”
“Of course,” she said, anxious to get back into Shai's good graces. “All I want is a chance with you, Shai. Whatever you want me to do, baby. Just name it.”
“Glad you feel that way,” he said, with his smile taking on a wicked twist. “I need you to do something for me.”
Tommy lay in the hospital bed, trying to figure out where he did wrong. He had always been so careful with his shit. He calculated and planned for the day when his father stepped down and handed the business over to him. All of it went out in a hail of smoke. Even though his mind was still sharp, his body was broken and no good to anyone. Tommy was paralyzed from the neck down.
His bout with self-pity was nearly as short as his reign. The door to his room opened up and Detective Alvarez spilled in, followed by his partner. Tommy wished that he could get up and choke the sarcastic bastards, but he couldn’t do shit but frown.
“What up, T?” Brown said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “You don’t look happy to see us.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy croaked.
“It speaks.” Brown smiled. “I didn’t think you could answer us with all of these tubes running in and out of you.” Brown took the oxygen tube that ran into Tommy's nose and squeezed it. Tommy gagged a few times before Brown released it. “Bad-ass drug lord, breathing through a tube and shitting in a Pampers. How does it feel, shit head?”
“Enough, partner,” Alvarez cut in. “Tommy, you’re in a bad way. The game is over for you. Your father's army is crumbling and you’re going to jail for a very long time. Why don’t you help us help you?”
Tommy laughed weakly. “You crazy? My father didn’t raise no rats. Do what the fuck you want.”
“Think you’re smart, huh?” Brown said, grabbing Tommy by the face. “You know, it wouldn’t be hard to do you in here and make it look like an accident.”
“If you don’t get your hands off my brother, I’ll kill you!” barked a voice from their rear.
Shai stood in the doorway with rage flashing in his eyes. He was flanked by Scotty and Hope. Brown started to reach for his pistol, but Scotty stopped him short with a defiant glare. Even though the young man was the Clarks’ lawyer, he was once one of their soldiers. Scotty still had quite a bit of street left in him.
“Let's not go there with this,” Scotty said, keeping his voice even. “I think you both know that we don’t have much to lose at this stage of the game. Please, leave my client alone with his family.”
Brown thought about trying Scotty, but Alvarez laid a hand on his shoulder. He gave his partner the nod and led him out of the hospital room. As he passed Shai, he gave him a cold stare. “I look forward to putting a hole in your little ass too,” Brown remarked to Shai.
“Talk is cheap, mutha fucka,” Shai said defiantly.
Shai waited for the detectives to leave before he approached his brother's bedside. When he looked at Tommy, he couldn’t even be mad at him anymore. The police had tore his brother up. Most of his body was covered in bloodstained bandages and he had tubes running in and out of damn near every hole in his body.
“Tommy.” Shai nodded.
“ ‘Sup,” Tommy said, not wanting to make eye contact. “How you been?”
“Better,” Shai said, sitting on the bed. “But things are starting to look up for us.”
“I hear you’re the man now,” Tommy groaned.
“In a manner of speaking,” Shai answered, still wearing an emotionless face. “I’ve assumed control of the soldiers, and Sol informed me that all of Poppa's legal holdings have been turned over to me.”
“That's heavy burden to carry, Slim.”
Til manage.”
“Things are pretty bad on the streets, huh?” Tommy asked.
“Manageable at best. At least we’ve rooted out most of the snakes. No offense, T.”
“Fuck you, Shai,” Tommy chuckled. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Quite the contrary,” Shai said, stoking his brother's forehead. “I’ve learned a lesson in all this: trust no one. But as I said, all is forgiven. Honey will actually be very instrumental in helping us dead all this shit.”
“What the hell are you cooking up, Shai?”
“Let me worry about that. You just get better.”
“Little brother's all grown up, huh?”
“It happens to the best of us, Tommy.”
“What about school?”
“I’m still going back, I’m just holding down the fort till you get better. That's all.”
“Shai,” Tommy sobbed. “Look at me.i don’t think I’ll be getting much better. I’m no good like this.11
“Tommy, don’t talk crazy.”
“It's not crazy, it's real. Fm fucked up, Shai. 1 roiled the dice and they fucked me. I can’t do shit like this. To make matters worse, that fucking snitch Amine is gonna put me away.”
“I wouldn’t worry about him,” Shai said, patting Tommy's hand. “You’ve taken care of me all my life. It's time to return the favor.”
“Shai,” Tommy cried freely. “You don’t owe me shit. Just take Hope and get the hell away from all this.”
“Can’t do that.” Shai shook his head. “It's like you said, my name is Clark. Be only a matter of time before someone comes for me. I gotta make this right.”
“Shai—”
“There's no more to be said,” he cut him off. “This is the way it has to be. Win, lose, or draw, this shit ends,”
Tommy looked into his brother's eyes and saw the same blackness that greeted him every morning. The balance of power had shifted and crashed down on his little brother's shoulders. He wanted to hug Shai and tell him how sorry he was for failing him, but he couldn’t. All Tommy could do was lay there and weep.
CHAPTER 32
FOR THE LAST FEW WEEKS, James Tucker had been running. He moved from one place to another, each time narrowly escaping death. He had crossed a man who had been good to him. All he ever did was disappoint Poppa, but the man had always allowed him back to make it right. There was no making this right. It was because of him that Poppa Clark was dead.
Poppa's men had all the bus, train stations, and airports covered, so there would be no escape any of those ways. The one route they hadn’t thought of was the water. James had rented a boar for a supposed fishing trip, but he was really going to blow town with it. He would sail somewhere, anywhere, and make his escape.
James boarded the twenty-foot boat and tossed his bags on the deck. It was broad daylight, so there were plenty of people about. James figured that even if Poppa's people did catch up to him, they wouldn’t touch him here. Just to be on the safe side, James held his nine close.
After untying the boat, James began the task of sailing out. Piloting the boat wasn’t the same as driving a car, but he’d figure it out eventually. As the boat began to make its way out to sea, James breathed a sigh of relief. He felt bad about what he did to Poppa, but there would be time to beat himself up over it when he was safely away from New York.
The boat had made it a good ways when the engine stalled, James tried to restart the motor, but it wouldn’t kick over, James left the control panel and made his way to the back of the ship to see if something was caught in the rudder. When he leaned over the side, a cord flipped up and wrapped around his neck, James was jerked over the edge of the boat and into the water.
“Greetings, sinner.” Priest smiled, hanging from the rear of the boat. “We missed you at the funeral,”
“Help!” James screamed. He tried to tread water with one hand and unwrap the rosary with the other.
Priest pulled himself into a sitting position on the back of the boat, tugging James closer. “My son, my son. I loved Poppa Clark as if he were of my flesh. Your cowardice is the reason that he is no longer with us. Are you ready to repent?”
“I’m sorry,” James struggled, trying to put some distance between himself and the blades. “They made me do it. I swear on my mother.”
“Doesn’t much matter now,” Priest said, fumbling with the engine. “1 am only a guide to the great beyond. It is up to the most high to judge you.”
The blades came to life and began to chum the water. One of the blades nearly missed James's face as he thrashed about. He knew that crossing Poppa would catch up with him. When James opened his mouth to scream, the rudder's blades tore into his face and gums. Priest sat and watched as the blades slashed James's face to bits. Once the man was dead, Priest took the helm of the boat. He would coast around for a while, until the sharks were done with the man's body.
Honey sat in the motel room, looking out the window. It had been raining nonstop for the past few days. Bone had sent some of his people to bring Honey to him. She sent Star to her sister's and reluctantly accepted his summons. For the past few days, they had been held up in the hotel room, snorting coke and sitting around. Honey felt like she was going to go crazy in the room, but she put her feelings to the side for the greater good.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bone asked, scooping coke into his nose. “You’ve been looking out that damn window for over an hour.”
“I feel like I’m going crazy in here, Bone,” she admitted.
“Girl, you know I can’t be out on the streets. It's too much shit going on out there. Don’t worry, when it dies down, everything will be cool.” Bone slapped Honey on the ass and went into the bathroom.
Honey thought that he would never leave. He had been a pain in her ass for days. Honey snuck over to her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “It's me,” she whispered. “Get a pen and write down this address.”
Shai paced back and forth, looking over the sea of faces. Those who remained loyal to the Clarks were assembled and awaited their leader's instructions. Shai had called a war council to finally put an end to the drama that had plagued the City. Swan stood at his side in the position of field general, while Angelo served as his adviser.
The troops had begun to lose hope. They were losing men and money. There was more than enough product to sling, but the constant fighting made the streets hot. You had to keep one eye open for police and assassins. Just when they were ready to give up, Shai had come down from the mountain.
“My niggaz,” Shai began. “I thank you all for coming. I know these haven’t been the easiest few weeks out here. The little war that we’ve been sucked into was something that none of us wanted. A lotof people have turned their backs on us, but it's all good. The Clarks have always stood independently. I’m not my father or my brother, but I am a Clark and therefore it falls to me to make this right.”
“We’re with you, Shai!” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Fuck the dagos!” another man shouted.
“Easy, easy,” Shai urged them. “With Italians at our back door and every fucking c
rew in New York at our front, the odds don’t appear to be in our favor. I do things a little different than my brother. We will not stage a head-on charge and only get the satisfaction of clipping a few choice snakes. We will make a calculated strike and eradicate all of our enemies.”
“I’m down for whatever,” Born spoke up. “If you got a plan, I’m sure as hell listening.”
“A’ight, y’all, listen up.”
Gee-Gee sat and listened as the young black man spoke. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but somehow he didn’t feel like it was a lie. Fat Mike had been causing all kinds of trouble. He was a good earner, but a little too ambitious for the old man's taste. Something would have to be done about him sooner or later.
Once again, Legs and Amine had become the inseparable pair. They ate their meals and moved through the prison together. Amine felt comfortable again, having his partner with him. He felt bad for Legs, but at least he had someone else to do time with. He was totally at ease.
Legs, on the other hand, was stressed out. He had known Amine for years. Through thick and thin, they had been peoples. But Amine violated the code. He snitched and had to answer for it. It wasn’t really a choice for Legs. When Swan had contacted him, he was very clear: Legs had brought Amine in, so he was his responsibility. He was also very clear when he told Legs that if Amine testified, his child would never be born.
“Damn, I hate this shit,” Amine said, looking at his tray. “What I wouldn’t give for some real food. How ‘bout you, Legs?”
“Huh?” Legs asked, distracted. “Yeah, man.”
“What's been up with you, kid? You ain’t been yourself.”
“This place is getting to me, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it. Soon the feds are gonna move us. I hear they can set us up in a real nice spot.” Amine continued to rant about what he and Legs were gonna do with their lives when it was all over. He never even saw Legs pull the shank from his waistband.