“It’s good. I met someone new,” she answered.
“I see, saw him at the funeral. Big guy.”
“Is he.” She snickered.
“You crazy.”
“He do me right, in all places,” said Sammy.
“Good to hear.”
“And you?”
“I met someone too. His name is Tango and he treats me like I’m his world,” I boasted.
“You deserve it, Mouse.”
I knew I did.
I started to tell her all the things Tango had done for me lately. I described my king to her and she seemed truly happy for me. She then talked about her man, Power, and explained how they met and kept it real with me, letting me know what he was about. He was YGC, a hardcore muthafucka in the game, and he was in love with Sammy. I was genuinely happy for her. After Rico, we found our kings.
Of course we talked shit about Rico. We both hated his guts. I didn’t care for him. I didn’t go see him at all. He was dead to me and my daughter. But Sammy let me know it was a different story with her.
“I still go see him, Mouse,” she said to me.
I was confused. “Why?”
“It’s a long story,” she said.
“Talk to me, Sammy. I’m here,” I told her, looking directly at her. I wanted to know what was going on.
We both were willing to let bygones be bygones and start over. It was a new year and we both were doing different and better things.
Sammy locked eyes with me and exhaled. I was listening. She went on to explain the situation with Rico. It started back last year with her date with Macky. I remembered. She didn’t want to tell me what had happened. She told me about it now, how he tried to rape and beat her. She confessed that she felt so weak and vulnerable that she refused to let anyone know about it, but somehow she ended up telling Rico. Then Sammy hit me with the bombshell.
“I killed him, Mouse,” she confessed with tears trickling down her eyes.
“Oh my God. What?”
“Rico set it all up. He had him kidnapped, brought me to the location, and I shot him in the trunk of a car.”
I was taken aback. What the fuck was Sammy thinking?
“I hated that muthafucka. Now Rico is blackmailing me. It’s the only reason why I go and visit him. He has this shit over my head.”
I didn’t know what to think.
She confessed about everything, about her and Rico’s past, how they first fucked and how he steadily influenced her with lies and promises. It was the same way he did me. She was in tears and apologized for everything. I hugged and comforted her. She needed me. It was obvious she was holding everything in and it was tearing her apart. She went on to tell me about her dancing in Crazy Legs and how she would turn a trick every now and then to keep her lights on and feed her son. We both had similar stories.
Rico had manipulated us both.
After Sammy was done talking, I knew I had to tell her my story. She was listening and I began with telling how I was living in a shelter for a few months, struggling. I told her about Denise’s cousin Dietra who was steady hating on me and always trying a bitch. I told her about that night I beat her almost to death and had to suddenly leave with my daughter in the cold before I got arrested. I mentioned moving in with Erica, and prostituting myself in Hunts Point.
“What?”
“Yeah, a bitch did what she had to do to eat,” I said.
I let her know how Tango and I honestly met. I told it all. We both were in similar situations and look at us; we were still here, surviving and moving forward by any means necessary. I continued to apologize to her and she continued to apologize to me. We were definitely over Rico. But I felt bad for Sammy; he was trying to blackmail her into doing whatever he told her. I could see it was becoming a burden on her. I let her know that her secret was safe with me.
“I’m here for you, Sammy,” I told her.
She nodded and wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I don’t know how long I could put up wit’ his shit, Mouse. You’re lucky, he’s out of your life completely, but me, he’s gonna taunt me until he tries and break me,” she proclaimed.
“We gonna do sumthin’ about him,” I said.
“I just want him to leave me alone.”
“He will.”
Right there on that bench, we both vowed to take our revenge on Rico. He did too much and he was continuing doing too much. Sammy was hurt and she was stressed. So we wanted to kill him, or have him killed. We were determined to destroy Rico somehow even though he was locked up in Attica. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Sammy mentioned someone who had the muscle and clout to pull it off: Power. But it was risky, because she didn’t want Power to know all her business, especially when it came to a grimy nigga like Rico.
We talked for hours and played with our kids. Sammy mentioned to me about our music being stolen and seeing one of our songs being performed on BET. I was dumbfounded. She then mentioned her run-in with Search at the club and how he disrespected her. I was also taken aback. Since when did she and Search have beef? But I did feel Search abandoned us. We were talented but our career wasn’t going anywhere. Sammy asked me if I was still writing. I told her of course. I loved writing and I loved music. She admitted she fell off for a moment but started to get back on her pen game. We had some unfinished business to take care of. Fuck it, we weren’t about to let Vixen Chaos die out. We worked so hard and came so far. Our setbacks wasn’t going to be the final chapter in our books. There were a lot more chapters gonna be read and they were going to be some good ones.
From that day on, our friendship was mended again and I felt we were even closer. We shared our secrets, our darkness, and our pain with each other. I felt like a million bucks because I had Sammy in my life again. I had someone close to me I could talk to and I didn’t want that to ever change.
I told Sammy I was moving, or we were moving away from Edenwald into our own apartment. She was happy for me. I was happy for her.
Chapter Twenty-five
Sammy
I sat near the bedroom window holding Danny in my arms, feeding him his bottle and gazing at the police lights that flooded the street below me. It looked like an army of cops were outside my window, over a dozen or two from corner to corner, and homicide detectives were walking around everywhere, canvassing the area and asking questions about the two dead men in the front seat of green Durango. They had been gunned down by a semiautomatic and from where I sat in my apartment I could almost see their bodies slumped over the steering wheel and the dashboard. It was a grizzly crime scene and more young black men were murdered.
I heard the gunshots an hour earlier; there were many of them, sounding like fireworks going off and they were so close in my bedroom, it felt like they were shooting at me. And it didn’t take a genius to understand death followed. I was so close to the crime scene from my bedroom window that I could hear the detectives talking and almost could smell the nicotine on their breaths. It was the advantage of living on the second floor and near a hazardous street.
I was busy feeding my baby, but I admit, I was being nosey. I sat by the window like an old lady trying to figure who got killed. I overheard it was members from BMB. It was coming back on them. Someone in their gang were brutally killing YGC gang members the past few weeks and from overhearing Power talk whenever I was around him, he figured it was some OG, probably fresh home from prison. Power was in the streets twenty-four/ seven, taking care of business and putting himself in the middle of this chaos. When the Broughton brothers were murdered savagely in their own apartment, it bothered him greatly and he didn’t seem to sleep. He looked like a general at war. There were guns everywhere, from his place in the city to his cars and even on him. He stayed armed and stayed alert.
I worried about him greatly. He was determined to win and not get himself killed or locked up. Some days I pleaded with him to stay out of it personally, he had soldiers to crawl in the trenches and fight for him, but Powe
r was a man of pride and he always said to me, “I ain’t gonna never let my soldiers do what I won’t do first. That’s why these niggas respect me, ’cause they know a muthafucka like me is gonna be right out there in the trenches warring wit’ muthafuckas too. I ain’t some clown to hide behind his money and power. Bitch, I’m real like that.”
He said it like he had something to prove.
I couldn’t tell him anything. His mind was already made up. The only thing I could do for him was pray and hope he came out of this street war alive and with his freedom. Power stood out like a skyscraper in a small town. He was easy to spot and a lot easier to target and gun down. I fell in love with him and I didn’t want my man dying on me. I didn’t need another Rico. I needed a man who was going to be there for me all the time. But lately, Power’s priorities had been to his gang and I was left on the backburner.
Yes, Power was giving me the world—money, clothes, jewelry and taking me out to some nice places—but I was still living in the projects, still around the violence, and still wondering about my future.
I thought about Mouse and her man Tango. Mouse looked so happy talking about Tango the other day that I did get somewhat jealous of her. Power had the money and the lifestyle, but it seemed like Tango had the passion and the undying commitment to his woman. I liked that. In fact, I loved that. Also, Rico wasn’t in her life at all. She vowed to help me with the situation, but how? I felt so trapped that the minute I thought about it, I would start to tear up. I just wanted out, and I wanted to be happy. Why was it so fuckin’ difficult to find it both, happiness and true love, without worrying about a bullet hitting you in the back?
I continued lingering by the bedroom window, observing the police do their jobs, and watching the neighbors loiter around the crime scene, behind the yellow caution police tape inhibiting anyone without a badge to come any closer to the bodies. The violent disturbance had awakened the entire block. But Danny was falling asleep in my arms. He seemed better now, fed and feeling safe against his mother’s tits. He was aloof from this type of trouble, so far anyway. My son needed better than this. I didn’t want to become that single black worrying mother with a troubled teenage son in the gangs or drugs and getting into all kinds of shit. I didn’t want to get that knock on my door one late night or early morning, seeing police and giving you the news that your son is dead, shot down coldblooded like some animal. I didn’t want that for Danny. I didn’t want him to end up like his father. Danny had to be better than all of this. He had to. He was innocent now, smiling, playful, and always depending on Mommy, but in fourteen, fifteen, eighteen years, where would he be?
I cradled my child cozily in my arms as I gazed at the crime scene out my window. Those two dead souls out there; they were someone’s child too, or were. But somewhere down the line they got caught up in the street life and look at them now. It was a fate that so many of my people have faced, men and women: death by some rival’s hand.
I looked at my son as his pretty eyes succumbed to sleep finally and I vowed to keep him away from this. He was going to learn what life was like. When he got older, I would tell him about my past and tell him about his father—the man he was, or the man he wasn’t. But right now, for my son to have some kind of chance when he got older, it started with me being the best mother I could to him. And that started with getting my life right and having things in order. I even thought about going back to school, getting my GED and maybe my degree down the line. I wanted to do something with my life. I wanted to better myself, for my son’s sake. But how could that happen with Rico hanging this black cloud over my head?
I had seen enough. I closed my window and removed myself from the view outside. I placed Danny in his crib, made sure he was nice and comfortable, and then I went into the next room to smoke a joint and call Power.
I plopped down on the couch with a joint between my lips and my cell phone in hand. I called Power a few times but he wasn’t answering. I sighed with frustration. Two things: I wanted to know if he was okay; and the second, I wanted some dick. Since this shit started in the streets, we hadn’t been fuckin’ like that. And I didn’t want to cheat on my man, but I was horny. I smoked weed to calm down my nerves.
I called his phone again and it went straight to voicemail. I became frustrated and thought, could I put up with this shit, thinking that Power was Rico all over again, being in the streets and about to get his ass shot up or locked up? Fuck!
Mouse happily showed me around the small apartment like it was some palace she was moving into. It was in Harlem, not too far from 125th Street. It was a four-story walk up, no elevator, and kind of rundown, but Mouse was happy with it. The place wasn’t furnished yet. It had two small bedrooms and a small bathroom that if you needed to change your mind, you needed to step outside. But it was her new home and I was proud of her.
“We were supposed to move to the Bronx, but that landlord started actin’ fuckin’ funny and Tango found us this place. At least I’m out of the projects, right?” she said with a smile.
“Yes, congrats on that,” I said.
Our kids were with us. Danny was in his stroller and Eliza was hugged to Mouse’s hip with a pacifier in her mouth. The tour of the place took a minute or less. Outside her bedroom window was an alley filled with trashcans and rats. There was a Chinese food restaurant underneath the apartment, along with an African hair braiding place, a public school two blocks down, and a few fast food restaurants and several bodegas crowding the area. It was your typical black neighborhood. But it was home and she had her man with her every night, supposedly.
“I can’t wait ’til we get the place furnished. I’m thinking leather couches maybe, a flat screen over there, but Tango wants something simple,” she said. “He wants to decorate the bedroom first and get busy in it.” Mouse chuckled.
It was too cute, their relationship.
“I agree wit’ him, Mouse. Just keep things simple. I mean, this place is only temporary right?”
“It is, but I’m ready to make my man a home, where after work he can come home and relax, kick off his shoes, drink his beer, watch his sports, and then, later, take care of me,” Mouse said.
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah. I know it isn’t much now, but I feel comfortable here. Don’t nobody know me around here and I feel I can finally start over.”
Starting over sounded so great, I thought. “Girl, I’m wit’ you on that.”
I could see Mouse decorating the small place lovely though. She always had an eye for decorating. When we were kids, we used to talk about living in huge mansions with like fifty rooms, and a big pool, and Mouse would go on and on how she would decorate each and every room. She would go into so much detail that you believed she done it before. She always did have a vivid imagination.
We stayed in the empty apartment for over two hours talking. We ordered some Chinese food from downstairs and relaxed on the floor at her place. I knew she couldn’t wait until she got some furniture. We made the floor very comfortable though with a large quilt, some pillows, and a radio. Danny was crawling all over the place and Eliza was trying to get into everything when there wasn’t nothing much to get into.
I was eating my egg roll and thinking about my own life while Mouse was tending to her daughter. My eyes saddened for a moment and when Mouse looked at me, she already knew something was wrong.
“Sammy, talk to me, what’s goin’ on wit’ you?” she asked with concern.
I had to let her know. First, I told her that Rico called me collect the other day. Mouse sat up with me having her full attention and asked, “What the fuck did he want now?”
I knew she didn’t mean to curse in front of the kids, but Rico could have that effect on a bitch.
“He knows about me and Power, and he wants me to not see him again, or he’s gonna start talking about me to the authorities,” I said.
“That clown-ass nigga,” Mouse blurted out.
I went on to tell Mouse more
about Rico, how he was pressuring me to sneak drugs into the prison for him, and how he had the audacity to pressure me into marrying him. Mouse couldn’t believe her ears. She became so upset that I thought she would actually go to the prison and kill Rico her damn self.
“He’s not gonna get away wit’ this, Sammy,” she vowed.
I didn’t mean to turn her small housewarming to my problems, but as friends, we were always able to read each other, knowing when something was wrong without us telling.
“He just gotta go,” said Mouse.
“I know. How we gonna do this?”
A sigh came from Mouse. She looked pensive toward the situation. While we had our kids we were talking about murdering someone. But how could we reach Rico inside the prison? That was the million dollar question.
The more time I spent with Mouse at her new place, the more we talked and the more I confessed about my private and personal life. We definitely had a lot of catching up to do. I told her about Power being in the streets too much and not spending any quality time with me. I was truly worried about him. Her advice to me was either leave him or love him the way he is.
“You know niggas like him don’t change, Sammy,” she mentioned.
She was afraid Power was going to hurt me like Rico did. She talked about Tango and his past, and boasted how he was now a hardworking man and trying to become a family man. I didn’t need to hear all of that. But my dilemma: I leave Power and then what? I’m back stripping at Crazy Legs when I vowed never to return there again and living on ends meet, turning tricks in one of the backrooms to keep my lights on, fridge filled with food, and our rent paid. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep on living like that. I admit I was scared.
We had such a long heart-to-heart that time went by and it was dark outside. The kids were sleepy and I knew it was time for me to head back to the Bronx. I was going to take a cab home. I hugged Mouse good-bye and went on my way. It was back to the Bronx and time to come up with a plan to get myself out of hot water.
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