Life

by Sullivan, Leo

  “Somebody robbed Gucci’s trap last night, and kilt his twins,” said Lieutenant.

  He managed to get away by jumping out the window and crawling under a car.”

  “He jumped out the third floor window?!” I yelled and tried to raise my head in disbelief, as pain ricocheted throughout my body.

  “Where in the fuck was Blazack at!?” I yelled at Twine.

  “I dunno.”

  Lucky for me, I had only been hit three times, mostly flesh wounds, one in the ass and thigh. The most serious injury was to my shoulder. A short Chinese doctor entered the room followed by two huge burly white cops that looked like linebackers for the Pittsburgh Steelers.

  “My name is Doctor Wong,” the doctor said, his voice was laced with a heavy foreign accent. He glanced at the clipboard in his hands. “Your injuries are very serious. We’re going to have to operate to repair your shoulder.”

  As the doctor talked, I tried to listen, but like the rest of us in the room, I couldn’t help but focus most of my attention on the two cops. Finally, the doctor said the police wanted to talk to me. With that he bowed his head slightly and left the room.

  “Mr. Leonard Smith?” The plain-clothes detective asked as he took a step toward me. His skin was pale white, eyes were piercing and he wore an expensive suit. Everything about him told me that I’d had better be careful of what I said.

  “Yes, I’m Leonard Smith,” I said, acknowledging my fake name.

  “I’m investigating the homicide and attempted murder of three year old Shawn L. Bell and his mother Annie Bell.”

  He was talking about Lil Man and Black Pearl. If I could, I would have bolted from the room, from that place that I had created, my own man made hell, from the grim reality of what was happening to me. The detective turned to Twine and Trina and asked, “Do you mind if we speak to him alone?” All I heard was the scuffle of chairs moving and feet shuffling distancing them-selves from me. Twine and Trina hauled ass out of that room!

  The two detectives played cat and mouse with me for nearly an hour. I adamantly continued to tell them that I did not know what happened. They let me know of their suspicions and promised to come back and arrest me once they found out I was lying. They knew that I lived in Quincy at the Chateau G.P., that told me a lot, the spot was getting hot.

  *****

  Later on that night I got into a wheelchair and strolled down to Black Pearl’s room. She was connected to so many wires and contraptions. An episodic beep chimed in tune with wavy lines, her lifelines. She wasn’t even breathing on her own. I fought to restrain my emotions as I looked at her beautiful face and saw Lil Man’s eyes. I would have given anything in the world to have both of them back. What kind of monster could do such a thing? Blazack’s face flashed in my mind. Ain’t no longevity in the dope game, stick and move, get out within a year. I thought about what Trina first warned me about that night in the hotel when we first met. And now, for the past year or so, she had been begging me to get out, and now ...

  After I left Pearl’s room, I called the Chateau and told Major to come and get me. Later on that day to the disagreement of the entire hospital staff, I checked out of the hospital on crutches.

  I was a sight to behold with all the stitches and bandages; I could make a mummy jealous.

  The first stop we made was to the liquor store. The whole time Major just looked at me like I was crazy, but he kept his fucking mouth shut. He too didn’t agree with me leaving the hospital in my condition, but he also knew what was on my mind–187, murder!

  As he drove I was in agony. The pain was excruciating. A few times I almost fainted. I rode in the car in a very awkward position due to the gunshot wounds in my ass and hip, all on the same side. Blood was starting to soak through my shirt from where my shoulder was nearly torn off. The liquor helped a lot, but not nearly enough.

  I had Major drive to the house that I first rented for the crew back in the day. Now it was nothing more then a stash spot or a place to cut, get laid.

  Dirty’s brand new BMW was parked in the front yard. I sent Major inside to ask about Blazack’s whereabouts.

  I watched as Major walked inside. Someone left the door ajar. Moments later Major reappeared, running like he was being chased by the devil himself. He got back into the car, his words inaudible.

  “W-W-We gotta get the hell outta here. Dirty and some broad are in there dead as a muthafucka!”

  “Are you sure?” I asked grabbing his arm and wincing in pain. Major turned and looked at me the way people do when they’re being annoyed.

  “Look, I did a tour of Vietnam, I done seen mo’ dead Muthafucka than you have seen livin’!” Major had the old Caddy in reverse burning rubber out the driveway.

  “You bring my pistol wit cha?” I asked as suddenly the image of the black SUV and armed gunmen jumping out flashed before my mind. Major reached underneath the seat and passed me Jesus. I took a long swig from the bottle of Hennessy and asked Major if Blazack owned a black SUV. Major thought for a second and then answered yes. He turned and looked me directly in my eyes and asked if I thought Blazack had something to do with it. I didn’t answer, just took another long swig from the bottle and caressed Jesus in the palm of my hand praying that I would have enough strength when the time came.

  As we approached my estate, the same yellow van that Major had expressed suspicion to me a few days ago was still parked across from my security gates. The guy wore dark shades. I thought that it was odd for a man that worked out in the sun to have skin as white as chalk. As we passed, I could have sworn he looked at me and smiled.

  Major had to nearly carry me inside, I could hardly walk. At the top of the stairs Trina stood stately, poised as if she had been waiting for me. The way that she looked down at my pathetic body was humiliating for me. She wore a long gown with a reveling split up the front. Her right hand was posed with a Black and Mild cigar smoldering. As soon as she spoke I knew that she had been drinking heavily.

  “I’m leavin’ you, BITCH!” she cursed, slurring her words miserably. Wobbling she began to walk down the stairs, one step at a time.

  Major gave me a knowing look. “I’m going to check the grounds, make sure that everything is aight.” With that he left.

  “You fucked it up! What you thought you was Scarface or some shit, L? We had it all, money, clothes and fine cars. Five or ten million dollars wasn’t enough for you?”

  I raised my hand to slap the cowboy shit out of her. Once again, I had underestimated her and before I knew it, Trina reached into her bra and pulled out a small pistol and fired at my head.

  “You put yo muthafuckin’ hands on me and I swear to God, I’ma send you to your grave next to your dead-ass Mammy,” she said coldly with the gun still aimed at my head.

  “Girl, what da fuck wrong with you?” She just looked at me dead serious, and then on a second thought she just shook her head and walked away. I followed her to our bedroom. Louis Vuitton bags sat in front of the bed. This time Trina was fully prepared to leave me.

  She whirled around to face me, her eyes optic slants of contempt.

  “I let you be the man with your balls and super ego while I sat in the background and played my part, let you get all the credit for being the brains –”

  “Trina let me –”

  “Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me!” she said pointing the gun at me. “When you first started out hustling, in the first two weeks you made millions. I made that happen. And when you couldn’t find a supply for coke, I made that happen, too. I bet your punk ass didn’t know that it was I that went to my uncle and got you put on. I made all of this happen!”

  Perspiration was starting to form on my forehead as I listened to Trina, a woman I realized I never really knew.

  She continued, “I let you be the head, the lead, because a real thorough bitch knows the neck moves the head.” Then in one of her mood swings Trina lowered the gun, her eyes cast down at the floor. “Lil Man is dead. DEAD!” She screamed a
t me. “... And his momma is in a fuckin’ coma about to die, and Lord only knows where the hell poor Evette is. She never made it back from Baltimore.”

  I hobbled over to the bed and lay down on my stomach. I was in too much pain to talk. Trina came and stood over me with the smoldering Black and Mild in her mouth, gun in one hand, and a large suitcase in the other that looked big enough to put a small body in.

  “Just so you know I’ve already drafted the paperwork to have the Chateau, cars and jewelry placed into a shell corporation in the event that the feds come at you. I’m outta this bitch.”

  With all my meager strength I reached out and took hold of her hand with the luggage in it. She pulled away, the contents of the luggage spilled onto the floor. For a moment we just stared at each other. I could not believe what I was seeing. Money. Lots of it! Nicely wrapped hundred dollar bills in bundles of twenty-thousand dollars. Finally she said, “See what you made me do?” For the first time I heard the panic in her voice, saw the fear in her eyes as the guilt was written all on her face. All those years she had been stealing money from me. Fifty thousand here, ten thousand there. Trina, the Brooklyn chick.

  I watched as she bent down and retrieved the money. Her eyes darted from me and to the door like a thief making a hasty get away. It felt like I was being robbed.

  “Bitch! You been stealin’ from a nigga,” I said and tried to get up.

  “Naw trick, I been preparin’ to do me, ME. You think I’m gonna let you bring me down cause you don’t know when the games are over?” Trina spat the words at me as I watched her tote that heavy-ass suitcase to the door. I couldn’t even get out the bed and we both knew it. Opening the door she turned and called my name.

  “L.”

  “What?” I answered disgruntled.

  “Nigga I loved you with everything I had. We had the Bonnie and Clyde chemistry but not enough for me to do a lifetime in prison for you.” She began to cry from deep within. “I tried to tell Big Mike the same thing, like you, he wouldn’t stop.” Trina wiped her face with the back of her hand and for some reason smiled at me through her tears. “You were a better hustler than Mike. You knew how to listen to me.” Then she added, “A better lover, too. Bye.” She mouthed the word with no sound and closed the door on our lives forever.

  *****

  That night I was awakened in the still of darkness by a soft rap on my bedroom door. My entire body was covered in perspiration and blood had soaked through my bandages. I tried to move from the fetal position I was sleeping in. “Oooh, oooh!” I shrieked in pain. That AK had torn chunks of flesh from my body and now I was feeling it big time. The medication that they gave me had finally worn off.

  “Come ... in,” I groaned.

  The door opened and the silhouette of a woman appeared. In the backdrop of the hallway a luminous light shined making it hard for me to see who it was.

  “Trina! Trina? I need a doctor. I’m fucked up bad!” I croaked. No answer.

  The feminine figure approached me, slowly sashayed and turned the wrong switch on the wall panel causing the surround sound system to my stereo to come on. Keith Sweat’s song with the girl group, Kut Klose “Get Up On It” filled the room. An exotic light shinned. She walked up to me, close. Wiped at the sweat on my brow affectionately and cooed in my ear. “Poor baby, let me help you,” she said in a sultry voice and licked my earlobe. Instantly I recognized that voice. It was the lesbian Tomica, Evette’s lover. At that very moment I tried to shake the wary cobwebs from my head, but with it came the relentless pain. Too much pain no human being should ever have to endure.

  “How ... did ... you ... get in here?” I asked.

  “Major let me in sweetie,” she said and held a white Walgreen’s drug store bag in front of my face.

  “I’m gonna take care of you.”

  “Where is Trina at?” I asked, my voice sounding like a small child. Pain can make a man talk that way.

  “You don’t need that bitch! That’s why I’m here to warn you. She wanted us to help set you up with the feds so she could get Big Mike out of prison. Evette and I turned her down. Trina got scared and left town.”

  “WHAAAAAT!” I screeched. “What about Pearl –”

  “Shhhh,” Tomica interrupted as she placed her index finger over my mouth.

  “First thing’s, first. Now baby, relax and let me make you feel betta,” she said seductively.

  My mind was boxed in with dilemmas that ran the length of my confused brain. The only thing that was for certain was that my world, as I once knew it, was crumbling around me. My nigga Dirty was dead along with Lil Man. I couldn’t help but wonder why would Trina turn me in and where in the fuck was Blazack at?

  Tomica removed all my clothes and bathed me with a soft sponge, as she grimaced at the horror of my scars. At the time I was in so much pain I honestly thought I was going to die.

  Suddenly Tomica stopped and removed her blouse and then her bra. The lights played off the sensuous curves of her body. She watched my reaction. I could tell it was not what she had been expecting. The very last thing in the world I wanted was some sex.

  She reached inside her purse and removed a small white package of a powdery substance and dug her long fingernail into it.

  “Here, snort this, it will make you feel betta.”

  “What is it?”

  “The same thing they gave you at the hospital, only this is purer. China White,” she said and watched me as she held it up close to my nose. Probably the same way Eve did Adam with the apple. “This will make you feel betta, handle your business, get you out of bed, no mo’ pain. Take it!” she cajoled. With all the pain I was in I would have snorted horse shit if someone would have told me it would make me feel better.

  I snorted from the tip of her finger as she smiled down at me, in a strange kind of satisfaction. Before I could hardly inhale she shoveled another toot into my other nostril. Within moments I was overcome with a pleasant euphoria that sent me sailing out of space on cloud nine. The pain instantly vanished. I was high as a muthafucka. So this was the world of China White, I thought as Tomica got me high on my own supply. Dope she had been stealing from me for years.

  With half lidded eyes, dreamily I smiled up at her. Watched with the amusement as she began to take off her skirt and then wiggled out of her panties like some exotic snake shedding its skin. She stood in front of me completely naked. Pubes of silky black hair cascaded down her brown thighs. My manhood stood up with enormous invigoration. Like a long pole, it waved at her. I could feel my body experiencing a sensation I had never felt before. The swells of her supple breasts came into view. Her erect nipples were tiny like luscious strawberries, hardening into fine points that complimented the symmetry of her hour glass figure. Tomica’s body was bodacious in all the right places. She reached out and grabbed my joint with both her hands, it twitched and throbbed pulsating in the palm of her hands as precum glistened from the head like a volcano about to erupt.

  My body was on fire, I wanted to fuck this lesbian. She smiled at me devilishly, sensing my wanton lust. Tomica dropped to her knees and began to feverishly wax my pole with the palms of her hands causing my toes to curl as my back arched to meet her. She bit down on her lip with a purposeful scowl, that of a seductress determined to get what she came for. Slowly ... slowly ... she took me into her mouth and gobbled me up as best she could with my great length and size. “Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” I moaned in ecstasy fighting the urge not to close my eyes. I wanted to see what the lesbian could do with all this dick. I whispered her name, caressed her head as her lips skillfully moved up and down, up and down the long sleek surface of my manhood. To my amazement she had me all the way in the back of her throat. Once or twice she gagged, but never missed a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down, deep throating me like it was art practiced by many but understood by few. Tomica made loud slurping sound as she sucked greedily, without coming up for air. Each woman’s intimacy of love making is in essence a part of her virt
uosity. An identity given like a birthright that makes each woman unique in her own right.

  Finally, I exploded deep in her mouth, down her throat. I took hold of her head forcing myself deeper in her mouth. She looked up at me without panic and swallowed every last drop and licked her lips.

  Afterward, I sat up in bed with the feeling of a man that has just been resurrected from the dead. Tomica stood a few feet in front of me. My dick was still hard and throbbing. I could see her clitoris through the mounds of her hairy bush as she stood, long legs parted. I reached out and took one of her strawberry nipples between my thumb and index finger and pinched it, hard.

  “Ouch!” she whined. With my other hand, I reached between her legs and stroked her kitten, made her purr for me until she started to hump my hand. I stuck my finger inside her moist opening. She was tight. The kind of tight that came from not having sex with a man in a long time. I pulled her to me, she gasped. I could smell the humid scent of her sex. With a deft finger I began to stroke her faster, roughly. She cried out in pain. I sucked on her nipples and she tried to push my head down. I was high, but not high enough to eat her pussy. Soon her juices dripped from my fingers. I stood and she looked up at me in shock, tried to read my mind. I spun her around and bent her over the bed. Tomica had a beautiful Black woman’s ass, round and fat with a slim waistline of a model. I spread her butt cheeks with my hands.

  As I entered her, I thought of one of the verses from the Bible my Dad use to say in church, “It was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven.”

  Trying to get my dick into Tomica was like going through the eye of a needle. Painful! She began to buck and resist, at one point she even tried to fight me. I enjoyed every moment of it. Finally she gave in, and it was easy, long strokes from the back. I ignored her crying sobs and enjoyed one of my dreams, to punish that ass, the bull dagger that was stealing my shit and was known to have a slick mouth from time to time. Then suddenly the dope started to talk to me. Some of the world’s smoothest hustlers have been dope fiends. Something about this bitch ain’t right. Don’t trust her, L! It was then that I started pounding away inside her body. She screamed. The dope was making me crazy. She continued to beg for me to stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. It was all hard and brutal on her. After about an hour and a half of marathon fucking with a malodorous funk to match, I finally took it to the hilt, grabbed her hips and the sides of her ass, spread her cheeks as far as I could, and with one hard and long thrust, I exploded a shattering climax deep within her. With the last drop of my semen deposited in her, I pulled out and watched as it ran down her inner thighs. I looked down at my dick and to my utter shock, there was blood on me.