by Carl Weber
Larry
6
We walked into the office, taking seats in front of Sam’s fake-ass mahogany desk. Half the shit on it was thrown to one side, which told me he’d just finished screwing the yellow whore standing next to him. She was trying to adjust her clothes, and she didn’t look very happy about the interruption. Personally, I didn’t give a fuck. I had hated whores ever since I had one give me the clap in ’Nam.
“Go on and make ole Sam some money, baby, while I talk to these gentlemen.” He squeezed her ass playfully. “We’ll finish this up later on tonight. Oh, and tell the twins to come in here, will you?” She kissed him on the lips before making a quick retreat from the room.
Sam then turned his attention to us, catching Lou slobbering over the whore like he was about slap money down to fuck the bitch.
“What’s Red’s story? She’s got a little more sass than these other girls,” Lou said.
“Same as the rest. Found her at the Trailways up in Savannah. Bitch came down from North Cackalacky, where her daddy was fucking her and her momma was beating her ass so bad she ran away.” He chuckled while faking to shed a tear. “Anyway, the bitch was talking about killing herself when I scooped her up. I wined and dined her for a few days, made her feel like a human being again, then turned her out. She’s taken to this shit like a pro.”
“She any good?” Lou’s horny ass asked. “I’m thinking about taking her for a test drive.”
“Best dick sucker I got, and she’s hopelessly romantic.” Big Sam laughed, brushing the lint off his suede coat. “She actually thinks we’re going to get married soon as I pay off my debts to my connect. She works so hard; I had to check under her skirt and see if she had an assembly line attached to the pussy.” We all got a good laugh on that, except for LC, who just sat there taking it all in. He always was the most serious of my brothers.
“Really, though,” Sam continued, “she brings in twice what the other girls do.”
“That’s because she’s in love and has a true purpose. I saw the way she looked at you, Sam. A woman like her will do anything for you, but when she finds out you been playing her, I wouldn’t want to be you. If I were you, I’d tread lightly,” LC spoke up. Why the fuck he did that I don’t know, but it sure as hell made me laugh.
Sam sure didn’t find that shit funny, though. He turned to LC angrily, and I knew that if it had been anyone but a Duncan brother, Sam would have knocked him on his ass. “Boy, I been turning bitches out since I was thirteen years old. My first ho was my own damn sister, and don’t nobody love you like family. So don’t tell me about love or pimping, ’cause I was making bitches fall in love when you was sucking on your momma’s tit.”
Sam turned to Lou. “Man, where’d you get this nigga from? Does he know who the fuck I am, or I should turn out that little doctor’s bitch he’s halfway fucking to prove it? I thought you said he was smart.”
I glanced at Lou, who lowered his head, probably wondering why the fuck he’d invited our little brother to this meeting in the first place. “Now, Sam, take it easy. The boy’s only giving you his opinion. Everyone knows your track record with women,” Lou said, trying to massage Sam’s inflated ego. If you asked me, he sounded like a little bitch.
I wasn’t the one to play these type of games, trying to make people feel comfortable with me. Hell, I liked when people were scared of me or on edge. It gave me an advantage when I decided to slit their fucking throats.
“Yeah, well, he’ll know it for sure when I turn out that little bitch of his,” Sam snapped back. “Then he’ll be paying me to fuck her ass.”
I knew Sam had taken it too far, but before I could even react, LC was rising from his seat.
“I find your ass anywhere near my g—”
Lou cut him off just as he was about to get started. Meanwhile, I was watching Sam to make sure he didn’t go for that little .38 he always carried. If he did, it was going to be the last thing he ever went for.
“LC, why don’t you go check on Levi?” Lou made it sound like a suggestion, but the way he was pushing LC to the door, he was actually making a command. That was one thing I could say for the kid: he had a temper, but he was cool under pressure.
“So, now that we got rid of the twerp maybe we can get down to business!” Sam’s voice mocked as Lou returned to his seat. Two of Sam’s thugs—who we called Twin One and Twin Two because one had one gold tooth and the other had two—entered the room and stood behind their boss.
“I wouldn’t taunt my little brother like that, Sam. He’s still a Duncan, and unlike Levi, he’s got a mind of his own. I can’t control him.” Lou chuckled, taking out one of those cheap-ass cigars he liked so much.
Truth was, Lou was right about LC. He may have been the youngest and the mildest mannered of us Duncans, but he had a memory like an elephant and a subdued temper that could explode at any minute if provoked. I didn’t particularly like the way Sam was talking about LC, and Lou didn’t have a clue, which meant I was going to have to make it my business to keep my little brother and Big Sam away from each other.
“Please, Lou, I was just fucking with the little twerp. I ain’t worried about him. He’s your problem. Best you don’t make him mine. Now, you ready to get down to business?” Sam rubbed his big, meaty hands together in anticipation of some good shit coming his way. “What you got for me?”
Lou motioned for me to hand over the black duffle bag I’d carried into the room, so I placed it on the desk. Sam stared at the bag, his lips slowly spreading into a smile as he unzipped it. He reached in and pulled out a brick of marijuana. Raising the brick up to his nose, he inhaled real hard. His eyes became wide, and then his grin spread into a huge smile.
“So?” Lou asked, wanting to know what he thought.
“If it’s as good as it smells, we’re in business.”
“I got a new connect up in New York with the best reefer in the city, and plenty of it to keep you in business. Wait till you get a real taste.”
“Well, ain’t that a coincidence, ’cause while you were gone, I got me a new connect for that good Colombian cocaine,” Sam bragged, taking another whiff of the merchandise. He reached down into his drawer, pulled out an envelope, and tossed it to Lou.
Lou thumbed through the contents. “This seems a little light. I think you’re mistaken about our agreement.” Lou had a hardness to his voice that put me on alert.
“No, I understand exactly what we agreed upon. I just figured I’d change things up a little.” Sam looked at my brother like he was his bitch. Made me want to slap off the little bit of black he had, but I knew Lou would get mad if I did that, so I held my ground.
“Sam, you know I don’t like games. I want my money just like we agreed.” Lou was about two seconds from jumping across the table himself.
I took a couple of steps closer to my brother, pulling back my coat so Sam could see what I was packing. This caused the twins to take a step up to back up their boss.
Sam raised his hands submissively. “Hey! Lou, this is me, baby boy. You don’t have to sic your attack dog on me. We all friends here. Ain’t nobody here to screw you.” Sam turned to the twins. “You boys hang back and relax. We all good here.” The twins stepped back, but I didn’t move a muscle.
Sam gingerly opened his desk drawer, pulling out a manila envelope. He handed it to Lou, who spilled the contents on the desk—thirty or forty small clear bags filled with white powder. “Look, baby boy, I owe you two grand, dig, and right there is four thousand dollars’ worth of grade-A coke, already packaged to sell. I figured two shrewd brothers like yourselves wouldn’t mind putting in a little hard work to double your money. Am I right?”
He was right, but I couldn’t stand when that motherfucker talked to us using that seedy-ass pimp voice, like we were a bunch of bitches he was trying to turn out.
Lou glanced at me for approval, and I nodded my head. We weren’t really into drugs other than muling a pound or two of weed, but getting rid
of the coke wouldn’t be a problem as long as it was quality shit.
“A’ight, Sam, we’ll take the package,” Lou said, scooping the coke back in the envelope.
“Well, there’s another piece of business I’d like to discuss with you brothers.” Sam leaned over his desk and lit Lou’s cigar.
“What’s on your mind, Sam?” Lou and I sat back down in our chairs, my brother puffing and smiling at Sam like they were best damn friends again. Sam placed another envelope on the desk, pointing at it.
“That right there is identical to the package in your hands.” He pushed it across the desk until it was inches from Lou. “If you don’t mind knocking a few country-ass crackers in the head over in Valdosta, it’s all yours.”
Lou glanced over at me, and I smiled, speaking up for the first time. “Sure. We’ll do it. Everybody knows knocking crackers in the head is my favorite pastime.”
That caused Sam to cackle. He stood up. “Shit, if I had known that, I would have given you half.”
Lou picked up the package before Sam could change his mind.
Chippy
7
After a busy night, things at Big Sam’s were finally winding down, so I came out onto the porch to have a moment to myself. I ain’t gonna lie; parts of me were so sore there wasn’t much else I could do except lean against the railing, letting the sunrise warm my face as I read my book. I’d been trying to finish it all day, but it seemed like every time I was about to get to the good part, I had to stop because some new john wanted his dick sucked.
Gales of laughter and chatter from inside drifted out to me. Most of the girls were sitting around the tables, eating fried chicken and having their last drink before going to bed, but I wasn’t hungry. I’d much rather lose myself within the pages of Sidney Sheldon with hopes that Sam would keep his promise and call me to his bed when he turned in for the night.
I heard the door behind me open then slam shut, but I didn’t pay any attention to who came out until I heard a man’s voice.
“Is that a good book?”
“Yeah,” I replied, turning to see two men headed toward the street. I’d seen both of them in Sam’s office with Lou earlier, but kept my distance. No way did I want Lou, or that baseball bat he was packing, anywhere near me. “Sidney Sheldon is my favorite.”
“I’m a little more partial to Robert Ludlum, but I’ve read a few of his books.” The one who had spoken was close to my age, but I’d never seen him before today. I wasn’t really attracted to dark-skinned men, but he had this regal look about him that reminded me of Richard Roundtree in Shaft. I’d seen the other man before. He was much lighter, although clearly related to the Roundtree lookalike. I didn’t like the weird way the lighter one looked at me, and I damn sure didn’t like that creepy-ass laugh of his that seemed to come out of nowhere. I gave him a wide berth until I realized what the fuck he was laughing at.
“This whore ain’t read that book, LC,” the man slurred, stepping toward me and reaching for my book. “Not unless it’s got pictures.”
“Yes, I did,” I protested, taking a step toward him so that we were face to face. I hated when people lied about me or underestimated me. It was half the reason they called me Chippy, because I would not back down in a situation like that. “What? You ain’t never seen a whore read a book before?”
“I ain’t never seen a whore do anything other than lie on her back and occasionally get on her knees. Gimme that shit.” He snatched my book from my hand. I reached for the straight razor Sam had given me in case one of the johns got out of hand. I was about to slice his ass up. Lucky for him, the Roundtree lookalike stepped in between us, grabbing the book from him.
“Cut it out, Larry. She ain’t do nothing to you.” He grabbed the man by the shoulders.
“She’s a damn whore!” Of course I knew what people called me, but the way he said it made it sound even worse than it already did.
“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s not bothering you. Now come on. It’s time for you to go home. I’m sure Nee’s waiting up for you.”
As the two of them stared each other down for a moment, I held my straight razor close, because that Larry guy didn’t give me the impression that he was the type to relent. He finally backed down by taking a step back.
“You’re lucky you’re my brother and I love you,” Larry told him, pulling the other guy close and kissing him on the cheek.
“Love you too, bro. Now go home and sleep it off.”
Larry hesitated for a minute, giving one last unfriendly look, then he began to walk away. We watched him disappear around the corner of Big Sam’s.
When he was out of sight, the dark-skinned brother turned and handed me my book. “Sorry about that,” he said. “He’s a little drunk.”
“That’s like being a little pregnant. He’s lucky I didn’t cut his ass.” I showed him my straight razor, letting him know I wasn’t playing.
He glanced at my razor then shook his head. “No, you’re lucky you didn’t cut him,” he replied with a seriousness to his tone that made me take notice. “If you had cut him with that, you’d be dead right now.”
I stared back at him defiantly. “I’m not some pushover.”
“I’m not saying you are, but my brother’s a killer. He spent five years in Vietnam as an Army ranger. They taught him to kill people.” He sounded very calm and nonchalant, but I could tell by his eyes that he meant what he was saying. “It never left him when he came home. It’s who he is. He’s a killer and he can’t get rid of it, so he would have had no problem going through me to kill you, believe that.”
Faced with the thought that I had come close to being killed, I reached into my pocket to pull out a cigarette for my nerves.
He held out a lighter as I fumbled to find a match. “Here, let me get that for you.” He lit my cigarette and I took a long pull.
“By the way, I’m LC. LC Duncan.” He reached out his hand to shake mine all proper. I wasn’t used to that—at least not around Waycross.
“They call me Chippy.”
“Chippy. What kind of name is that?”
“What kind of name is LC?”
“It’s short for Lavernius Charles, and before you go asking what kind of name is Lavernius, I have no clue. It was my great-grandfather’s name, and he was a slave.” He laughed, and I joined in, probably too loud.
“So you’re one of the Duncans. I heard the Duncan brothers were not to be fucked with in this town. You’re the town hellraisers?” I asked, hoping to verify the rumors that seemed to be coming up about his family all the time.
“We’re not going to let anything happen to one another, if that’s what you mean.” His smile dropped from his face and he grew serious. “Between you and me, it’s a lot to try and live down. Truth is, I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “So you’re like your brother Lou? I’ll have to ask around and see if you measure up.”
He shook his head adamantly. “Ask all you want. I got a girlfriend and we’re going to be married. I don’t mess with them nasty—” He stopped himself, probably realizing who he was talking to. “No offense.”
“None taken. I don’t plan on making a career out of this.”
“I hope you mean that, ’cause some of those girls in there have been around as long as I can remember. Hell, Big Shirley took my virginity when I was fifteen, and that was seven years ago.”
“Well, that’s not going to be me. I plan on seeing the world.” I took a drag of my cigarette, deciding to change the subject. “So it must be nice to work with family.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I work at Byrd’s gas station over by the Piggly Wiggly in the evenings, and I go to South Georgia College during the day for business.”
I didn’t try to conceal my surprise. “Wow, college. That’s really impressive.” We didn’t exactly get too many educated brothers hanging around Big Sam’s.
“Yeah, I’m trying to br
eak the cycle. My daddy was a farmer, but he made most of his money as a loan shark like my brothers. I’m not gonna lie; once in a while I’ll do a favor for them, but nothing . . . you know, physical.”
“Yeah, I know. Probably safer that way,” I told him. He seemed like a good guy.
We both jumped when the door was flung open. A wobbly Lou stumbled out, followed by another brother who looked like two football players put together. He had a giddy, shit-eating expression all over his face but didn’t bother to speak. Lou staggered right behind him.
“Hey, Red. Sam’s looking for you.” Lou threw his arm around LC. “C’mon, little brother, let’s go get us some real grub at the Huddle House.”
LC turned to me. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Chippy. I’ll see you around.”
“It was nice talking you too, LC.” I walked away with a smile, thinking that he was the kind of guy I would have loved to meet when I was in high school.
Juan
8
At the intersection of FM 1405 and East McKinney, we waited for the steady stream of big trucks to pass by. All of this activity was because of the US Steel plant. A lot of hungry mouths being fed because of oil pipelines in Alaska or something. The A/C wasn’t blowing cold enough for me in the back seat, and the car’s stationary position didn’t make it any better. The shipments of large pipes and valves rolled out of the gate toward parts unknown, shaking the Chevy Nova we were in. The rumble didn’t seem to bother the two men seated in front, but the silence in the car led me to nervously check my watch. Today was to be a big day, and I didn’t want to mess up on account of being late.
Once the trucks were gone, we were again on our way. A mile down the road, we turned into the next open gate on the right and proceeded toward a large warehouse complex big enough to hide anyone or anything.
“We’re here, Juan,” Manny said as he stopped the Nova in the parking lot of one of the warehouses. He had been chattier last weekend at the club in Houston, when he drank too may brews and asked me if I wanted more work. Apparently I’d caught the eye of some smart folks. I wasn’t at this warehouse for a pipeline job though. I was here for a promotion. If Manny wasn’t lying, this was my chance to move up and make lots of money.