by Zach Tate
I hustled you out of your half, and got a little get-back with Money Russ. By the time you get this letter, me and Proverb will be in Japan pulling some stings. Catch me if you can, but that half a mill you lost will be a priceless lesson to you. Game recognize game.
From now on you must represent what the hustle is about. In life, and in legitimate business, people have to know, that you know every aspect of what you doing from the bottom up. This is the game, and in the game you don’t cross, you double cross! That’s what separates the good from the greatest. Always expect the cross. Know the game. Don’t get mad, get even!
I love you, cuz, and congratulations on being the King of Times Square. I taught you well.
Love always, Yoda.
Shit! I was out hustled by my teacher. I swear my blood pressure had gone up. Red read the letter out loud, and I watched Money Russ come to tears. That’s when she broke into hysterical laughter.
“What the fuck is so funny?” I yelled at her.
Red smacked her lips against mine and laughed some more. “Baby, this will make you a legend more than anything ever will.”
“I just lost a million dollars, Red; what the fuck is funny about that?”
“A million dollars?” Renee asked.
Red laughed at me with her elegant charm. “Baby, never count your money before you get it. This is Mid, where the impossible is possible, you should know that.” She kissed me again and then ran her hand through my hair. “I guess we have to form a drag team and make that mill back. Don’t worry, I won’t ask for a dime until I make you a million, if it’s that important to you.”
$$$
“Celebration time, come on! Let’s celebrate…” Brave Dave yelled while popping champagne back at the suite.
All of my hustling partners were there. I took the million dollar loss in stride, and even hoped Yoda could have been there. My eyes scanned the crowd for one of the people that made it all possible, but she wasn’t there. A hollow feeling came over me and I asked Joy, “Hey, where’s Roxy?”
“She’ll be here, gosh darn it. She dropped me off and told me she was going down to the Ave to turn a few high price tricks, so they can come down to the house. I reckon your girl was advertising, daddy. You know she all excited about the baby.”
I convinced myself that Joy was right, and was proud that I had such a trooper like Roxy behind me. I made up my mind that she was done in the streets. We were about to be parents, so her life of crime had to come to an end.
The party was off the hook; Gloria and a few people from the hotel staff came up to celebrate; too. I was drinking my second glass of the bubbly when there was a knock at the door. I thought someone else wanted to join the party, so I opened it without caution.
Buffy and Tweety were standing in the hall with sullen looks on their sweet faces. I invited the young women in, but they refused. All of a sudden, Tweety sunk to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. I could tell by Buffy’s demeanor that something was wrong, and she was trying her best to stay strong.
“Thirty Second on Eleventh. You got to get Roxy. She’s in trouble,” Buffy cried out.
“Roxy? What happen to my baby?” Red yelled over the music in a panic.
Buffy held Tweety and said, “Just go-just go-just go bring her back.”
My shoes were flying out the door and my family was right behind me. We stormed out of the hotel like a gang at war. When we reached the pavement, everyone looked up and down the avenue for transportation. Instantly, Renee jumped into action. A limo pulled up at the side of the hotel. She put her badge and gun into the driver’s face. When he hesitated, she yelled, “Get the fuck out of the car. Now!” The chauffeur grew wings and the gang loaded in the car.
Renee sped the limo down Seventh Avenue until we reached 32nd Street and Eleventh Avenue. Traffic was at a standstill. Urgently, we abandoned our ride and raced under the old train trestle, where the working ladies turned their tricks. The police were everywhere. From the distance, I could see Roxy’s Maxima with the back door wide open. Officer’s Vance and Jackson were in front of the car, behind the black and yellow crime scene tape.
“Roxy!” Joy yelled and took off, busting through the tape. Red was right behind her. Brave Dave lost his first name that day, because he blended away in the opposite direction.
After pushing through the uniformed officers, I walked up the middle of the street and stopped at the open car door. Life left me. No amount of cash, no long con or short con that I pulled off could have removed the pain that was seeping into my soul. I was staring the biggest obstacle in my life right in the face.
Roxy was laid out in the back seat with her back against the door. Her bloody skirt was hiked up over her knees. Blood drained down her leg from her crotch. Her blonde hair was disheveled over her face. Her chocolate throat that held the words that swore her dedication to me leaked royal blood from ear to ear. The breast that had to give life to our child was shredded, hanging by its pieces. In the back of her new car, Roxy was gone.
“No-no-no-nooooo!” Joy cried out. She ran to the car trying to save a body that couldn’t be saved.
Red sobbed uncontrollably while Renee’s conditioned soul of granite tried to hold us together.
Then I found peace. The bloody ice pick Roxy held in her hands gave me solace, knowing that she evened up the score and that the beast that killed my lover and child would eventually be found.
Detective Vance walked over. He crushed his cigarette on the bloody pavement and then smiled at me. “I guess you don’t know who this is either?”
Renee grabbed me before I could do any damage. Red pulled me away.
I won the crown, but my life as The King of Times Square came at the ultimate price.
THE END
Epilogue
The criminal is a difficult species. He is filled with double standards and is often unable to please. He is the biggest hypocrite whose selfish desires keep him on his own, yet he will always profess to follow a code. Johnny Hustle is not a criminal, he is an opportunist who escaped poverty. By 1991 I was king of Times Square. That year had a bunch of highs and lows. I made over a million dollars from a single payment on the pyramid scheme. I set up robberies for Sharieff through Webb and Jason. My organization expanded to all types of schemes, and my stocks in the Marriott went up through the roof.
Red never left my side, and if I ever had a wife, then she would have to be it. I keep her off the streets now because she means too much for me to lose. When the Internet was born, she invested a hundred grand in Microsoft when it first went public. You do the math. Now, all she does is go to the gun range, get involved in politics, and sit around pleasing her man.
Roxy, was laid down next to Keiki. When I need a place to feel safe, I go up to Woodlawn Cemetery to talk to my woman and the two children I lost and never had a chance to really have. I kept my promise to her mother.
Joy? She’s a major madam in New York. She has three town houses in New York, and one in Beverly Hills, California. She stopped turning tricks years ago. She went to school and attained a degree in business. From Red’s advice, she invested in Starbucks and married an old rich man, fifty years her senior. She still stops by when she needs a tune up, because Viagra won’t help her old man keep it up.
Renee, she cut all her hair off. She rented out her house and lives with us in the Marriott. In 1991, her badge went into the Hudson River. She spends her days working out with Red and helping with business.
Gloria still works here. If you ever come through, she’s probably the one to take care of you. Even though she’s worth more than a half a million dollars, she thinks working is what keeps her sex drive high.
Mimi isn’t little any more. She’s studying for her Doctorate in Human Services. She wants to attain her license in law. She plans to revolutionize the Child Welfare laws so no child will ever be left behind. Her mother died years ago. Thanks to Mrs. Walker, she’s legally my daughter, which means, every dime I got goes to he
r when I die.
Suki had a baby boy, and thank God it didn’t look like me. After they revamped Times Square and moved all the family-oriented businesses in, they renovated the Carter. Suki owns a piece of it.
Lisa is a new girl that works for me. She’s 6’5”. I met her while eating lunch at a restaurant named One Fish-Two Fish. She was my waitress. The day I met her, I offered to buy her lunch and have someone serve her for once. Within ten minutes, I was rubbing her feet, and when I offered her a job, she walked out with me. Now she’s head of security. Why do I need security? Ask Red, it was all her idea.
A lot has happened since 1991. In 2003, Lisa was selling powder to make extra money. The maitre‘d had moved down to Florida to open shop, so I helped her out by hooking her up with the maitre‘d’s customers. Then one of my financial advisors named X-man, led this mullotto girl name Ashley down here. She ended up bettering herself, but initially she had No Way Out.
Sharieff fell in love and married a woman named Jill. He later died and left her rich and lonely.
My crazy cousin Webb shot it out with the police, and went on the run for years. Only to shoot it out again with the police a year ago. He blew up a whole building with some cat from the Bronx named Scooter. According to my sister, she hears from him all the time, but she’s going a little senile, so I don’t know what to believe. What I do know is guns and illegal money don’t mix, so he need to stay wherever he is.
His partner, Jason, ended up doing a bunch of years in prison. They were both Lost and Turned Out. Jason’s mind led him instead of his heart. He came home and met and married Jill (Sharieff’s wife). Don’t look at me, it’s a small world.
Yoda died from heart disease. I built a mausoleum in New Jersey for the hustlers to give praise to him. I never held it against him for hustling me. Game recognize game. To this day, I still hear his voice.
Brave Dave went back to Panama; the whisper stream says he’s locked up.
Phil with bills sold some stuff to Billy Flemming again. The boy smoked it, came to midtown, and they found Phil’s head in the exit of the Port Authority. Billy is in a loony bin, and turns out he’s related to X-man, but you’ll read more about him and Billy’s brother, Akbar in A 100-Miles and Running.
Pee Wee is an assistant to Paris and Nikki Hilton. I never got my money back, but that’s the game.
Cashmere is still doing his thing in a major way. He made a few mill since I was with him. We found out that Pierre was in fact my father figure at one time. He, Cashmere, and Romeo are over on the West Coast, running an enterprise they call Player’s Paradise.
Money Russ overdosed off heroin on College Avenue in the Bronx. A train hit his wife, Dot. She was trying to get her syringe kit that fell on the tracks.
Proverb went and opened an oriental temple/church, down by the Brooklyn Bridge. I hear they have a Hip-Hop night down in the basement.
Snow is around, and after September 11th, 2001, he somehow got recognized as an actual Rabbi. How he did it? I don’t know, but please don’t get me to lying.
As it stands, I know the hustle never stops, but the rules have to change. Wish me luck with Strong City Records. I had to get some of that Hip-Hop money, but you can read more about that in You, Me & She.
Well folks, Zach got his money’s worth and I hope you did, too. Tell a friend to tell a friend, and support him, because after this, the boy won’t have a dime. There’s a whole lot that I couldn’t tell you, but I hope I successfully showed you the ups and downs when there Ain’t No Half Stepping.
Meet Zach Tate
Zach Tate is the critically-acclaimed, #1 best-selling author of the classic novels, No Way Out, Lost and Turned Out and The Legend of Johnny Hustle. He is the Maestro behind some of the best penned and most popular novels across many genres and is known as the “Ghostwriters Ghost Writer” for his ability to create authors who are living legends from his words and epic storytelling. Zach Tate comes well-equipped with a healthy dose of authentic storytelling complete with everything his loyal readers have come to expect from him. Born in the Bronx, New York and raised by the hard knocks of life, he’s reemerging with a mission to bring back quality stories full of substance. In his partnership with award-winning author and publishing mogul, Elissa Gabrielle, Zach Tate will release his catalog under “The Imprint” beginning in 2015. A writer of screen and stage plays, poetry, songs, novels and television shows, Zach wears the crown as King of Fiction proudly. He currently resides in North America, where he is building a legacy, enjoying the fellowship of his readers and working on the next big thing.