The Streets Have No King

by JaQuavis Coleman

  “Kane, losing a child is the most painful thing a man could ever go through. I want you to remember that,” Landon said.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I wish this never happened,” Kane said without turning around.

  “Thank you. I will not retaliate. I don’t want to put my family through any more bloodshed. I wave my white flag humbly. Take care,” Landon said in a low, conceding tone.

  Kane chose not to respond and exited the building and then the Irish district along with his street army. Checkmate.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Never count favors with your family!

  —KANE GARRETT

  “Hello. My name is Frenchie and I am a recovering addict,” the lady said proudly.

  “Hello, Frenchie!” the group of people responded as they sat in a circle. Frenchie looked over at her son, who leaned on the wall near the door and smiled proudly at his mother. She had been clean for over six years and had never missed a meeting since her sobriety. Basil couldn’t have been prouder of his mother because he’d seen her battle her addiction and conquer it. He waited patiently as his mother met with her group of recovering addicts. He knew that he would be leaving for Miami for a while and wanted to break the news to his favorite woman in the world. He watched as his mother hugged and spoke with her group, and the smile on her face was constant and she glowed. Her happiness was oozing out of her.

  “Hey, baby boy,” Frenchie said as she smiled widely and approached him with her arms extended. She looked him up and down and laughed while shaking her head.

  “My handsome son. You sure know how to wear a suit,” she complimented him as she admired his new look. His well-tailored grayish suit was complemented by a black-collared shirt, black diamond cuff links, and a black pocket square that just barely peeked out of his top left pocket. Basil was neat and put together, just as Kane had taught him to be.

  “Thanks, Ma,” Basil said as he cracked a rare smile.

  “Kane sure has you looking like a distinguished gentleman,” she said as he brushed a piece of lint off his shoulders. “I saw you come in a while back. I was surprised to see you here. You haven’t sat in one of my meetings since you were a little boy,” she said as she hugged him, rubbed his back, and rocked back and forth. Her warm embrace made Basil feel so good on the inside and he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment.

  “Just thought I would come take you to lunch,” Basil said as he smiled.

  “You sure know how to make an old lady feel good,” Frenchie said. “Just make sure you get me home by six. I have Bible study tonight, she added as she put her arm inside his and they began to exit the community center.

  “I think I can do that,” Basil said as they strutted out of the building and toward the parking lot. Basil looked at his mother and the love he had for her could move mountains. That’s why what he was about to tell her would be a difficult thing to do. “Ma, I need to talk—” Basil started as he opened the door for her. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the black-tinted Land Rover creeping by.

  “Ma, get in the car!” he said in a harsh whisper. He moved his hand to his belt buckle, where his chrome .45 rested.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Frenchie said, not fully understanding the sudden change of mood and tone of her son.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just get in,” he said quickly as he stared at the Land Rover’s windows, trying to see inside. He watched his mother get in the car and closed her door just after she got both feet in. His eyes never left the Rover as he slowly made his way to the driver’s side. There was something eerie about the slow, creeping truck and Basil didn’t feel right about the situation. The fact that his mother was with him raised the stakes and he was willing to protect her at all costs. Even if it meant making fireworks in broad daylight at a community center. He watched as the car cruised by and passed him, slowly exited the parking lot, and then drove out of sight. Deep down inside, he knew that an Irishman was in that vehicle and it only affirmed his hiatus to Miami. He quickly got into the car and went the opposite way.

  Basil began to think as if he were playing chess with the Irish. He knew that by murdering Landon’s son, the gloves were off. He didn’t want his mother to fall victim for something he had done. He immediately decided not to take her back home. He headed toward Kane’s house because he knew that he would know how to handle the situation. His mother talked to him on the ride there and he nodded and agreed, but his head was elsewhere. She didn’t understand how close she was to a potential shootout but Basil did, and now his nerves were on edge as he checked his rearview mirror at every turn just to make sure that they were not being followed.

  “We’re going to make a stop real quick before lunch, okay, Ma?” Basil stated as he looked over and gave her a fake smile, trying to hide what was going on from her.

  “That’s fine, baby. I’m riding with my favorite guy in the world. I don’t have any complaints,” she said as a huge smile spread across her face. Basil smiled and patted his mother’s knee as he guided his car through traffic.

  After a brief ride, they arrived at Kane’s estate. Kane had hired some of his henchmen to secure his home during these heated times. Basil noticed the two men standing by his gate and knew that Kane had already took the precautions of dealing with a street war. This was the exact reason Basil had brought his mother to Kane’s spot. He had to do everything in his power to protect the woman that gave him life. With him having to go to Miami for a while, he knew his mother would be an easy target. Basil knew too that Frenchie wouldn’t up and leave for Miami so he had to protect her while she was home.

  Basil rolled down his window so the gunmen could see his face and they promptly let him through the gate leading to Kane’s home. Basil crept through the entrance and up the long, snakelike driveway.

  “Oh my God,” Frenchie said as she set her sights on the big luxurious home that they were approaching. “This is amazing, Basil. Where are we at?” she asked as she admired the immaculate landscaping and sculptures that sat in the yard.

  “This is Kane’s house, Ma. I have to come and talk to him for a second,” Basil said as he entered the circular driveway and pulled in front of the main door. Frenchie smiled as she looked around in amazement. It warmed her heart that Kane had taken Basil under his wing. For some reason, she didn’t worry about Basil as much when she knew that he was with Kane. She was very appreciative even though she never mentioned it. She had not fully accepted that her son was a gangster, but it made it more bearable to know that Basil was under the tutelage of one of the best. Basil stopped his vehicle right by the big red welcome mat in front of the entrance. A well-built man in all-black suit stood guard at the front door. Obviously he was guarding the place. This was something that Basil had never seen when visiting Kane. Kane had bulked up his security to the max and wasn’t taking any chances with his family’s protection.

  Within seconds of their parking, Kane emerged from the house. He stepped out of the front door wearing a casual walking suit with house slippers on. He approached the car and opened the door for Frenchie.

  “Hey, Frenchie. Long time no see,” Kane said with a welcoming smile on his face.

  “Hey, Kane.” She took his hand as he helped her step out of the car. They hugged each other and rocked back and forth as they remembered the good times. “I haven’t seen you since Keema’s funeral,” Frenchie said, referring to his deceased wife.

  “Yeah, it has been a while. But you looking good now,” Kane said as he looked her up and down.

  “Yeah, I’ve been clean for almost seven years,” Frenchie said proudly. Basil exited the car and walked around, meeting them.

  “What’s up, Kane? Sorry for popping up unannounced, but I had to talk to you about something important,” Basil said as he stood before his mentor.

  “Never apologize for coming to see me. My doors are always open for you,” Kane assured as he placed his hand on Basil’s shoulder.

  “Thanks. Can we talk alone?”
Basil asked as he looked over at his mother.

  “Yes indeed,” Kane answered. He then waved for the henchman who stood at his front door to come over. The big burly man came quickly and Kane wrapped one of his arms around Frenchie.

  “Show her around the house. Also have Maria give her a manicure and pedicure,” Kane said.“You came on the right day. My manicurist is here,” he explained as he looked down at Frenchie.

  “Well, I’m not going to turn a good mani/pedi down,” Frenchie said jokingly as she smiled from ear to ear.

  “It would be my pleasure,” the henchman said with a smile as he reached out his elbow, inviting Frenchie to latch on. With no hesitation, Frenchie hooked on to the man and they headed toward the door. Just before they reached the door Frenchie stopped in her tracks and turned around, looking at her son and old friend. “I’m glad that you two found each other,” she said happily. There was so much joy in her eyes and sincerity in her tone. Kane and Basil both smiled, knowing that she was unware of the turmoil that surrounded them. They were in the midst of a potential war.

  They both watched as Frenchie disappeared into the house and focused their attention on each other.

  “Let’s take a walk,” Kane suggested. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a Cuban cigar and lit it. They walked through the compound with nothing but green grass around them. The sun shone down on them, but the aura was cold. Basil knew that he had potentially started a war. Something that Kane adamantly was against. There was no money in war and Basil felt culpable for what he had done.

  “I know what you are thinking and don’t worry. I’m not upset. I know you and how you move. You are a hustler, not a troublemaker. I know that Landon’s son must have left you no choice. The little fucker was a bonehead and everyone knew that. He got what was coming to him. Just so happen that you had to be the one who give it to him,” Kane said.

  “That shit happened so fast,” Basil replied as he shook his head.

  “It comes with the territory, young G. You had to catch a body. Luckily, it wasn’t a civilian. Because if it was, it would have been a whole different set of problems. You killed a street cat, so that’s where we have to hold court. I’d rather deal with this than dealing with a judge and twelve jurors that was put there just to put you in jail for the rest of your life. So now, we have to lace up our boots and move accordingly. As I said before, I want you to go to Miami for a while. Ya know, to lay low? I have already put the word in and they are waiting for you to arrive. Just go down there until this thing blows over and I can get a firm grip on the situation,” Kane instructed.

  “I understand. But it’s something that I need you to do for me,” Basil stated.

  “Sure. What’s that?”

  “It’s my mom. I need her to be looked after while I’m gone.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll make arrangements for her to be moved out of city limits and also will put a detail on her twenty-four hours until further notice,” Kane said assuringly. A great burden had been lifted from Basil’s shoulders. To hear that his mother would be protected made his departure easier.

  “Thanks, big homie. I will pay whatever to—” Basil began but got cut off mid-sentence by Kane. Kane stopped walking and blew out a cloud of cigar smoke. He then faced Basil and put his hand on his shoulder, looking Basil directly in the eyes.

  “Listen, we are family. We don’t keep count with favors. Never count favors with your family! We move as a unit. Your problem is my problem and I don’t need any money to take care of family. This is not just your problem. It’s our problem,” Kane said sincerely. Basil and Kane slapped hands and hugged. At that moment, their bond was even further cemented. Kane wanted to keep Frenchie safe just as much as Basil did. He and Frenchie had a history as well. Kane took a mental stroll down Memory Lane as he embraced his understudy.

  Circa 1989

  Kane and Carter Diamond sat at the card table while the sounds of Stephanie Mills filled the air. They were on the south side of Flint, ducked off in a small apartment in the Howard Estates. The apartment belonged to Keema, a young lady that Kane had taken a liking to. She was half black, half Venezuelan. She was the product of a hooker for a mother and a foreign father who was a trick. This mix gave her a distinct look and growing up in the middle of the ghetto, where nearly everyone was black, she was a hot commodity. Kane took her off the market quickly and they become an item. Seven people were in the apartment; Carter, Kane, Polo, Fat Rat, T, Frenchie, and Keema. All around twenty years old, they were a small social clique. It was the night of the NBA championship and the Detroit Pistons were on the verge of becoming the world champions. The television was on mute but they could see the crowd going wild and the seconds ticking off the shot clock.

  Keema’s best friend, T, was the girlfriend of Carter so they double-dated frequently. She also had a friend named Frenchie who refused to talk to Fat Rat or Polo so they were always just the spare wheels. But it worked; they were a crew. Just like any other weekend, they were all together smoking, counting, and partying in Keema’s tiny spot. They had just sold out of their product and were counting up the profits so that they could re-up and do it all again.

  “Life is good,” Kane said as he put another stack of money through the money counter.

  “Life is good,” Carter repeated as he wrapped a rubber band around the stack of money that he pulled from the money counter. Fat Rat sat by the door with a pistol in his lap as he always did, and Polo stood at the window and slightly pulled down the blinds as he kept an eye on the parking lot. They were all from the same neighborhood and grew up together. They were a solid crew and the brotherhood ran deep.

  “Your plug is on a million watts,” Kane said to his business partner, referring to Carter’s newfound Miami cocaine plug, the legendary Emilio Estes.

  “Yeah, we got a good thing going on for sure,” Carter answered as he focused on the money while talking. He was back home in Flint visiting and picking up his money from Kane. Kane ran the Midwest while Carter was just getting his footing in Miami. Carter Diamond had met Estes down in Miami and set his childhood friend up nice. He gave Kane bricks of cocaine for the cheapest price and on consignment. They were setting the drug market on fire and were on their way to being millionaires before the age of twenty-one.

  T was dancing to the feel-good music as they were counting. She looked over at Carter, who was focused on the money, and she instantly got turned on. She looked at his smooth baby face and the Kangol hat that slyly tilted to the side and smiled. His thick pork-chop sideburns and small Afro that perfectly peeked out the sides of the hat were so sexy to her. He was a smooth player, as she liked to say. The record changed and Teena Marie and Rick James’s “Fire and Desire” began to play. T threw her hands in the air and swayed back and forth.

  “This my song!” she yelled as she began to snap to the beat. She made her way over to Carter and straddled him as he focused on the money.

  “Put that down for a minute, baby,” she said as she threw her arms around him, continuing to snap to the rhythm.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Carter said as he lost count. He focused on T and chuckled, admiring her beauty.

  Keema yelled from across the room and she began to groove in her seat. “Yeah, come over here to mama,” she said playfully as she patted the empty space between her and Frenchie.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Kane said as he stopped what he was doing and made his way over to the couch.

  “Yeah, it’s time for a break, baby,” Keema added just before she laid a big wet kiss on her man as soon as he sat down.

  “Kane, will you take me home? I have to get up for class tomorrow,” Frenchie said as she stood up and stretched her arms. Kane was snuggled up closely with Keema, making out.

  “Can’t you see I’m busy?” Kane said as he briefly stopped what he was doing and looked over at her.

  “Take her home! It’s only around the corner. You might get lucky when you get back,” Keema said as she
playfully grabbed her breasts and wiggled them.

  “Uh oh! You better get to moving,” Carter said playfully as T sat on his lap, drinking a beer. Everyone burst into laughter and Kane smiled. He leaned over and gave Keema a kiss, right before he stood and grabbed his keys out of his pocket.

  “I guess the queen has spoken,” Kane said as he smiled and walked toward the door. Frenchie went over and hugged T and then Keema.

  “Love y’all. See ya this weekend,” Frenchie said as she put on her peacoat.

  “Love ya too, girl,” Keema said as she smiled and watched her friend exit the small apartment. Just before Kane closed the door, she flicked her tongue and mouthed “Hurry back” as she playfully grabbed her breasts and squeezed them together.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kane said as he tilted his hat and gave her that famous smile. Kane and Frenchie headed out and Fat Rat watched the door.

  “Why don’t your girl give me any play? She cold-blooded,” Polo said as he watched Frenchie and Kane walk to the car from the window.

  “Frenchie ain’t worried about no nigga. That girl is going to be a lawyer someday. She focused,” Keema said proudly about her childhood friend.

  “Yeah, Frenchie’s going be something one day. She is almost done with school. She goes to Mott and don’t need a thug like you to knock her off her square,” T added as she shot a look at Polo, sticking out her tongue, teasing him. Polo laughed and shook his head, knowing that she was right. Frenchie was a good girl and honestly, too good for him. He knew she was out of his league. In time, her position in life would drastically change. But as for his: once the streets grab ahold of a person, it’s hard to shake loose.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We are family.

  —KANE GARRETT

  Basil sat in the presidential suite at the Atheneum Suite Hotel in downtown Detroit. The old building had a lot of character and had been a staple within the city for years. Only “old money” stayed at the hotel and Basil had figured it would be a great low-key spot for a meeting with Mo. He looked at the duffle bag that was by the door and the thought saddened him. The next morning, he would be on a flight to Miami until further notice. Kane instructed him not to come back until he gave the go-ahead. Basil had to break the news to Mo that he would be leaving for a while. He walked to the window and looked at Detroit’s skyline, thinking about how he had come up in the drug game in such a short time. Nevertheless, his drug reign would be short-lived because of his current dilemma with Landon. Just as he finished his thought, a knock at the door sounded. He walked over to the door, looked in the peephole, and unlocked the top locks as his heart began to pound in anticipation. He opened the door and looked at the beauty that stood before him. It was Moriah, standing there with glowing skin and nude-colored lipstick on. She wore a black head wrap and huge vintage sunglasses that covered almost the entire top half of her face. She quickly stepped in and was noticeably shaken. She snatched off her sunglasses and exposed her beautiful face, which warmed Basil’s heart. She immediately hugged Basil and squeezed him tightly.