Ben knew they were doing their thing and making money. He slowed his pace when he noticed a candy apple red Cadillac Escalade pulling up to the group of boys. Ben’s heartbeat quickened. He felt a pang of excitement come over him. Everybody knew who drove that boss ass Escalade.
It was Deezo, a big time hustler whose reputation preceded him. Deezo was known to be notorious and he didn’t play with his workers or his paper. He was also like the hood’s Robin Hood. He would hand out turkeys at Thanksgiving and give kids sneakers and toys at Christmas. Ben had been the recipient of a few of Deezo’s generous gifts. Deezo was both feared and revered in Brooklyn. In Ben’s assessment, Deezo was the man.
Ben stopped for a minute when he noticed Deezo’s ride. He wanted to catch a glimpse of the man he admired so much. He had been looking up to Deezo since he was a little boy. In Ben’s eyes, Deezo was more than the man around his way. Deezo had everything, a bunch of fly ass cars, more than one diamond encrusted chain with chunky platinum pieces hanging from them, huge diamond earrings in each ear and every type of designer clothes you could think of. Ben had made a mental note to check out Deezo for a month. Every time he turned around, Deezo had on a different color pair of Prada sneakers to match all of his Yankee fitted caps. Ben used to daydream about being just like Deezo when he got older. The hood’s Robin Hood was Ben’s role model.
Deezo pulled the Escalade up to the corner and all of the boys stopped what they were doing. Dice stopped flying, the talking stopped and so did the drug sales. It was like the corner boys were in the army when Deezo came through. They all stood up straight and at attention, looking at the Escalade.
“Ayo’ Quan, wassup?” Deezo called out from the window of his ride.
Ben had also noted that Quan was the dude in charge of that corner. He was the one who collected on Deezo’s loot from the corner boys that Deezo allowed to slang there. Quan walked over to the Escalade and gave Deezo a pound. With the slap of the hands, Ben saw them pass the money.
Smart, Ben thought to himself. He was making notes. Ben wanted to be just like them. Getting mad paper and fly as hell.
“Yo, lil nigga, whatchu lookin’ at?” one of the corner boys said to Ben after noticing him watching Deezo so closely. Ben stretched his eyes and rode off to do his paper route. Ben turned back one more time before he left the block and he noticed Deezo looking at him. Ben almost crashed his bike when he saw Deezo’s eyes on him.
That evening after Ben had finished his paper route, he slung the empty cloth newspaper bag on his bike handlebars and headed home. He was tired and hungry but he was happy to have gotten paid, which meant he had money for food. Ben got to his block and as usual the same corner boys were still out there doing the same thing—slanging them thangs. He pulled his rickety bike up to the side of the store, leaned it against the wall and passed the boys to get into the store. Ben unfolded the five crumpled twenty-dollar bills he had just earned. He was proud of his payday. He went around the store picking up stuff he wanted to eat—a box of Apple Jacks, half a gallon of milk, a pack of Lorna Doone cookies and three bags of barbeque potato chips.
“She better not ask for none of my stuff either,” Ben mumbled about his mother. He went to the counter and put his stuff down. “Yo A-rab . . . lemme get a hero,” Ben called out to the man behind the counter. “I want ham and American cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, mustard and oil and vinegar.” His mouth watered as the man set about making his hero, which would be his dinner. He was sure his mother probably hadn’t cooked shit.
As Ben waited for his sandwich to be ready, he glanced out of the store window at the corner boys. He daydreamed for a minute thinking about all the things he would buy if he were in their positions. The first thing Ben thought of was new clothes. Clothes were a big status statement in Brooklyn. Most people in his neighborhood judged you on what you wore and how often you changed to something new.
The storeowner startled Ben when he told him his stuff was ready. He pulled out his bills and paid for his meager groceries. Ben stepped out of the door of the store and just as he did he noticed all of the corner boys starting to scatter.
“Five-O niggas, five -o en route!” one of the boys called out with his hands cupped around his mouth.
Ben looked around in confusion. Then he noticed the cop cars speeding down the streets, flashing lights but without any sirens blaring. The cops were trying to sneak up on the boys, but all corner boys had look outs. The word had already gotten out and the scrambling had begun. Ben grabbed up his bike and threw his grocery bag into the newspaper delivery bag that hung from his handlebars.
“Yo Shorty, take this and put it in your bag,” Quan, the lead corner boy who Ben had seen talking to Deezo, shouted at Ben. Ben’s eyes widened as Quan stuffed something into Ben’s newspaper bag. “Get the fuck outta here now, Shorty! I’ll see you later on about that! I know where you live at!” Quan barked frantically.
Ben nodded at Quan and did as he was told. With his heart hammering wildly in his chest, Ben climbed onto his bike and rode off doing top speed. He turned to look back once and noticed that the jump out boys had all of the corner boys lined up against the wall near the store, including Quan. Ben inhaled deeply and peddled his bike even faster. When he got to his building, he snatched the cloth newspaper bag off his bike and raced into his apartment. He was so nervous his hands shook. He raced pass his mother, who was in the living room with a new boyfriend that Ben was seeing more often now.
“Damn, you don’t say wassup?” Celeste called after him.
Ben ignored her. He went into his room and closed the door. He set the newspaper bag down on the floor and flopped on his bed. He was scared to look inside the bag at first but curiosity was killing him. He took out his grocery bag first, and then slowly he peered down into the cloth bag. His eyes lit up and he swore he could feel his blood pressure rising. Ben swallowed hard as he stared at the content of the bag. In the bottom of the bag lay three bundles tightly wrapped in plastic. Ben slowly and reluctantly picked each of the bundles up. One bundle was a bunch of red capped containers with white rocks in them. The second bundle was a bunch of brown and green grass looking stuff in small baggies and the third bundle was a bunch of tiny baggies with white powder in them. Ben knew all three bundles were drugs—crack, weed and either powdered cocaine or heroin. Although he was thirteen, growing up in the hood afforded Ben a vast street knowledge about drugs.
“Ben! Open this door!” Celeste hollered from the other side.
Ben jumped. He snatched the bundles of drugs and lifted his thin mattress and slid all three bundles under it. Inhaling and exhaling to get his nerves together, he walked over and opened his door. His mother eyed him up and down suspiciously.
“Did you get paid today?” Celeste said, letting her eyes scan his room. Ben sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. He could not stand his pain in the ass mother when she acted so money hungry.
“Whatchu was doin’ up in here with the door locked? Tryna hide ya little bit a money?” Celeste snapped as Ben pushed pass her to go into the kitchen.
“Nah, I ain’t hidin’ nothin’ from you!” Ben snapped back. He started unloading his little bit of groceries.
“Well, gimme what’s mine nigga. Ain’t no free stays up in here . . . shit your ass gettin’ grown,” Celeste told him, sticking her hand out.
Ben did as he was told. He handed Celeste $40 out of the money he had left. That left him with about $30 after he had already spent about $30 on groceries. He acted angry but he wasn’t really mad. He didn’t mind helping his mother out, she was a single mother with no help from whoever his no good ass father was. However, Ben didn’t appreciate it when men came over and he and his mother were hungry and those niggas didn’t even help out by buying as much as a loaf of bread. Ben thought his mother was real stupid for giving up her ass to no good niggas for free.
Ben sat down to eat his hero, but when he lifted the greasy sandwich to his mouth he found that he didn’t
have an appetite. He was thinking hard about the packages under his mattress. He thought he could go out there and sell every bit of those drugs and make good money. He also knew if he did that, Quan and Deezo would surely be looking for him. Ben decided to just wait and see if they ever came to claim what was theirs. After thinking about the drugs, the money and Quan and Deezo repeatedly, Ben finally forced himself to eat his sandwich. He went to bed full and worried. All he could do was hope that things were going to start looking up.
Ben didn’t hear from Quan for the entire night. He tossed and turned all night knowing that the package was under his mattress. The next day, he woke up to knocks on his door. Ben scrambled out of his bed and raced to the door before his mother could answer it. When Ben pulled back the door, Quan and Deezo were standing there. Ben almost shit his pants.
“Whaddup Shorty? I came to pick up my shit,” Quan said. Deezo stood silently with a serious glare on his face. He didn’t look happy.
Ben shook his head up and down absentmindedly, too star struck to even speak. Quan and Deezo stepped inside of the apartment without Ben inviting them in. Ben knew Celeste slept late so he wanted to hurry up and get what they came for before she got up and saw the two biggest neighborhood hustlers in her living room. He rushed to his room, retrieved the three bundles and proudly handed them over to Quan. Deezo kept his eyes on Ben while Quan surveyed the bundles. Ben could feel sweat dripping down his back.
“It’s all here Shorty. Good lookin’ out. You did a’ight,” Quan said, smiling at Ben.
Ben’s shoulders slumped in relief. Although he knew he hadn’t taken anything out of the bundles, he was still scared as hell.
“That’s wassup Shorty. Here, this is for ya troubles. Look like a nigga could use the help and shit,” Deezo said, handing Ben two crisp one hundred dollar bills.
Ben’s eyes lit up. “Thank you,” he smiled up at Deezo.
“Buy ya self something Shorty. Ya moms be trippin’ the way she got this crib lookin’. This ain’t no way for a lil’ nigga to live,” Deezo commented, turning around to head for the door. Been shook his head agreeing with anything Deezo had to say. “And Shorty, since you did so good with this little job, I got something you can do to make some money if you want to. I’ma see you out there. I might can help you get ya chips up, feel me?” Deezo stopped walking and told Ben.
Ben couldn’t stop smiling. He couldn’t believe Deezo was offering him a job. He had dreamed about being down with Deezo. When Deezo and Quan left, Ben raced over to the window and watched them get into Deezo’s Escalade. He could see all of their bling sparkling against the sun. The whole scene excited Ben. “I’ma have that car when I get older,” he said to himself, gripping the money Deezo gave him.
Ben was too excited to eat his Apple Jacks that morning. He rushed and got dressed. He didn’t take his newspaper bag or anything else. He left the house, grabbed his bike and headed for downtown Brooklyn. Ben went straight to Footlocker first. He copped a fresh, crisp new pair of white Nike Uptowns. Then he went to several other stores and copped a traditional navy blue Yankees fitted cap, a brand new pair of Sean Jean jeans and a five pack of crisp white tees. He felt good about himself now. He wore his new sneakers right out the store, the same for his jeans and one of the t-shirts. Ben even had enough money to eat a super-sized meal from McDonalds. He felt like a man. No, he felt like the man. He felt independent. It was a feeling Ben wanted to have all the time. He was definitely going to take Deezo up on his offer.
When Ben returned to his hood that evening he rode his bike past the corner store. He was secretly hoping he would run into Deezo or Quan.
“Shorty!” Quan called after Ben. Ben smiled to himself and stopped his bike.
“Yeah,” he answered. His prayers had been answered.
“Deezo told me to hook you up son. All you gotta do is go getcha newspaper bag, come get a package and deliver it to a address across the way . . . two hun’ned is what Deezo paying for the one trip,” Quan told Ben.
Ben felt like he would piss his pants. Two hundred more dollars just like that! Ben thought excitedly. “A’ight. I’ll be right back,” Ben said, excitement lacing his words. He took flight on his bike, and ran into the house in a huff. He scrambled to his room to get his bag. But his activity was interrupted.
“Where you been at?” Celeste said dryly, stepping into Ben’s bedroom with her arms folded. Ben stopped like a deer caught in headlights.
“I went to work and then shopping,” Ben lied.
“Where you get money to shop?” Celeste asked suspiciously. She always wanted to know every dollar he had.
“I saved it up from the newspaper route,” Ben told her impatiently. He didn’t know why his mother was sweating him. It was annoying. Ben screwed up his face at Celeste.
She looked at him up and down. “I got something to tell you,” she said. Ben gave her a blank stare. He wanted to tell her to get the hell out of his room so he could get his bag and be out. He was preoccupied and full of anticipation for the job he had coming up.
“I’m pregnant. You gon’ have a brother or sister,” Celeste said dryly.
“And,” Ben answered, being a smart ass.
“You too grown for your own good Ben. I’m just tellin’ you. I ain’t have to tell you shit,” Celeste snapped.
“So you shouldn’ta told me then,” Ben said with an attitude. He grabbed his bag and brushed pass his mother bumping her slightly. “Another mouth to feed and she don’t even feed me,” he mumbled on his way out. He knew whoever his mother was pregnant by was probably not going to be around or help out in the house. This annoyed him even more. Ben snatched his bike and started out the apartment door. He didn’t have time for his mother and her bullshit right now.
“Where the hell you goin’ at this time with that bag?” Celeste asked.
Ben didn’t answer his mother. He felt like she wasn’t in any position to question him. Thirteen or not, Ben was the breadwinner in their household.
“Benjamin Early!” Celeste called after him.
Ben let the door slam behind him. He had to get back outside. Quan was waiting on him. “A’ight, I’m back,” Ben huffed putting his feet on the ground to stop his bike.
Quan dropped a package into Ben’s newspaper bag. “Take this across the way to Howard Houses, there’s a kid named Spider waiting on you. Don’t fuck this up lil’ nigga,” Quan warned.
Ben pulled himself up on his bike and was out. He had a new job and it paid more than he could ever dream of making as a newspaper delivery boy.
Two weeks had passed and Ben had made eight deliveries for Deezo. He had more money than he could have ever dreamed of. Each time he earned another two hundred dollars, he would buy another full outfit, complete with fitted cap. Ben started giving Celeste $100 instead of the $40 she was accustomed to getting from his paper route. Celeste was happy as hell. She had only questioned Ben once about where he got the extra money from. He told her he had picked up a new route that paid more money, which was not a complete lie. Celeste was satisfied with the answer . . . at least, that is what she told herself.
A Sucker 4 Candy Amaleka McCall
Chapter 2
It had been a year since Ben had first got down with Deezo. He had graduated from delivery boy to an actual hand-to-hand corner boy. It had happened one day after Ben had made all of his drop offs with his newspaper bag. He had come back to the block to let Quan know that everything had been delivered as planned and to collect his money. That day when Ben rode up on his bike, Deezo was talking to Quan. They both noticed Ben at the same time.
“Yo Shorty, c’mere and lemme holla atchu,” Deezo called out to Ben.
Ben looked at Quan and then back at Deezo. He wanna holla at me! Ben thought to himself. He nervously wheeled his bike over to Deezo’s ride.
“Nigga, you can’t get up in my shit with that piece of shit bike,” Deezo said, chuckling. Ben smiled and put his bike down on the sidewalk. He could not believe
Deezo was letting him get into his car. “Get in lil’ nigga, I ain’t got all day,” Deezo demanded.
Ben climbed the high step of Deezo’s luxury SUV and got into the passenger seat. Deezo rolled up all of his smoke-out black tinted windows. Ben swallowed a lump of fear that sat at the back of his throat and stared straight ahead. He wouldn’t dare grill Deezo straight on, that was a violation he had seen another little corner boy get slapped for in the past.
“Yo, you been real good with them deliveries and real smart about how you handle yours Shorty,” Deezo complimented. Ben was smiling inside but he didn’t dare part his lips into a smile. “I like that you stay hungry and humble, feel me? I can tell you want this real bad and shit. Som’a these niggas I got working the block is cocky. They make a lil’ bit a money and they think that make they dick grown and shit. Feel me?”
Ben shook his head eagerly. “But you . . . I been watching you Shorty,” Deezo continued spiel. “You keep your humble attitude all the time. That’s the right way to be . . . when you get cocky is when you get caught. A kid like you can make it far in this game Shorty. How old is you?”
“F . . . F . . . Fourteen,” Ben stammered, his nerves were on edge.
“Shiiit, I remember when I was fourteen. I was in the same boat as you. Mother was single, a bunch of fucked up niggas in and out the house and shit. No food up in the crib. House dirty. She having a baby every year and shit . . . I was just like you, I worked hard and made my way in the game. I stood up and made my own money and ain’t neva ask my moms for shit again. I was the man in my crib after a while, feel me?”
Ben was hanging onto Deezo’s every word. He couldn’t believe Deezo had compared himself to him. He felt really good inside. He was ready to do anything Deezo asked of him.
Still Candy Shopping Page 17