by Tiana Laveen
“There it is… all of it with an extra $5.00,” he said breathlessly. Sly grinned as he counted up all the money, holding his gun in one hand as he did it. He jammed it into his pocket, then handed him back the ball of money Tony had brought over there—the $88.00 house warming gift.
“You pass. I knew you had that extra five bucks, too. That was all a test. My boy told me everything that happened. I don’t give a shit about no fuckin’ five dollars, but that shows integrity on your part. You were honest. Most of these mothafuckas would’ve pocketed it. That’s rare, good lookin’ out.” The guy extended his hand for a shake. “You’re on. In the next two weeks, if things go well, Dante’s debt will be all paid back as long as you do what the fuck I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. I guess the Bible was right. You are your brother’s keeper…”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Boys to Men
…Two weeks later
Tony stood inside Sly’s apartment, clad in his stark white Troop jacket and matching pants. His new white kicks, a pair of fresh Air Jordans, practically sparkled. A small diamond ring glowed on his long pinky finger, completing the ensemble. It was one in the morning and he was here for an ‘end of the quarter’ meeting. His customers didn’t give any tips, but Sly did.
The tips were so large that not only did he pay off Dante’s debt, he got a few of Mom’s bills up to date, too. At first, she started asking questions about how he’d managed that… but then she stopped.
Sly sat on his couch wearing a silk black robe with red embroidered dragons, counting thousands of dollars and stacking them, a serious, focused look on his face. Five other men sat around him, their mouths full of gold, their clothes fresh, and their haircuts with crazy and cool designs. Too $hort’s ‘Don’t Fight the Feeling’ drifted from the speakers and the sweet scent of black cherry incense floated about. On the table were scales, product, and plastic bags. When he was done counting, Sly lay back on the couch, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and a joint in the other. His lips curled in a smile.
“Well, nigga, you did what you came to do. Dante lives to see another fuckin’ day.” He chortled hoarsely while blowing out rings of weed smolder. “I was just sittin’ here talkin’ to my boys before you arrived… tellin’ them how this White mothafucka from Jersey came in like some Mafia style superhero to save his fuckin’ brother from my ass.” The guys around him nodded and grinned, a couple chuckled, too. “You outsold every single one of these mothafuckas when they first started, and brought me not two, but four new customers who know a good damn kilo when they see one. So.” Sly tossed up his hands. “I’m a man of my word… your obligation to me is done.”
“Okay, cool. So uh—”
“Wait a minute. I’ve got somethin’ else to say.” The man held up one finger. “If you want to stay on board and keep making some real fuckin’ grown man money instead of that little boy bullshit you were doin’ with that old man, who couldn’t even front you $500, then you let me fuckin’ know.”
“I’m good.” Tony held his head higher, clasped his hands, and stood at attention. The vibe in the room was shifting and something invisible moved through the air.
Temptation, maybe…
“Hold up. Before you decide, let me sweeten the damn deal…” Sly stood from his seat, placed the wine and weed down, and linked his hands, mirroring Tony’s pose. The robe swayed open, exposing a huge diamond and gold Jesus medallion. “You’d just do one or two runs for me a week to my high rollers out in Kings Point and Lake Worth. That car you drivin’? Nice starter car for a kid, but throw it in the trash. I’d get you hooked up like the rest of us—candy red, Casper white, or midnight black Ford mustang, or any color you want!” He tossed up his hands. “Gotta boy at the chop shop who does paint jobs like you nevah fuckin’ seen! Shit looks wet like good pussy, twenty-four-seven. He could even make zebra stripes on that bitch since you like Black pussy!” The room exploded in laughter, but Tony didn’t smile. “And that’s just the beginning. Sounds good to you?”
Tony listened to the words being said, acknowledged the 24k golden carrot dangling right above his head, dripping with diamonds.
“I appreciate that, Sly, but uh, I think I’m going to pass.”
Sly nodded and threw up his hands.
“Well, Larry Bird, the offer stands for forty-eight hours. Think about it. Sleep on it. I like how you move, man. You smooth. You not out here doin’ dumb shit. You get in and get out, get the job done, and get that shit done right. You could go somewhere in this business. For real.” Sly sat back down.
“I’d rather just, uh, go to college and put all this shit behind me. Thanks again, though.” He turned to walk out the door.
“Yo, Tony Montana, one more thing.”
Tony glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Imagine movin’ your mama who’s been workin’ her ass off and still ain’t got nowhere in life, your brother… who needs a second chance… and your sweet, innocent girl somewhere nice… somewhere safe…” The guy’s eyes turned to slits. “It takes money to do that, man. See, I’m from here, so I’m comfortable, but this is not your world. It ain’t gone nevah feel right to you, homie.” He tapped his fingertips together. “I could take you under my wing, teach you everything I know. Remember, it’s only wrong if it ain’t for a noble cause, and you, my man, could be dope game royalty…”
…Three months later
“Daaaaayum!” Maize’s eyes nearly bucked out of his head as Tony drove up for their high school graduation in a brand new blue-black Ford Mustang with a silver skull on the hood. He, E.T., and T.J. raced over and popped their head in the open passenger side window, checking out the stereo system and the blood red leather interior.
Tony leaned back in the seat, dressed in his cap and gown, and turned up the music. He removed his black shades and slid them in the clip of the sun visor. The speakers sounded like something from a damn concert, crisp and clean. He almost felt like breaking out in one last performance for all of his peers to see.
‘Say No Go’ from De La Soul blasted through the sub woofers. The students that were gathered on the lawn started to bounce around and dance until Cassidy pushed them out of the way like bowling pins, reached inside the car, and abruptly turned the music off. Her long, freshly pressed dark brown hair swayed under her cap as she glared at him.
“Damn, Cassidy! What tha fuck is wrong with you?!” E.T. yelled as the rest of them stepped back from the car.
The girl rolled her eyes at the entire lot of them and stormed off, back to her friends, without saying a word.
“Yo man, somethin’ up wit’ you and Cassidy? Why ain’t yo’ girl ridin’ with you?” T.J. asked.
“She’s mad at me… hasn’t spoken to me in a few days.” Tony stretched and yawned, then got out of the vehicle and closed the door. He spoke like he didn’t give a fuck… like he was just reporting the weather. Tony adjusted his cap and that was when Maize noticed the fancy ass watch on his wrist.
That looks like a damn Rolex…
“Montana! Shit, man! What kinda weight are you pushin’? Let me see that!” He raced over to him and checked out the wristwear. “Yo, that’s dope.”
All of them gathered around to see. For the past few months, things had changed drastically. Tony was dressing different; he wore a lot of jewelry and the shit looked real. He had a diamond in one of his front teeth and two golds on the side. Girls in the hood were chasing him worse than ever. He had the pick of the damn litter. With his style, his car, and the way he was shining, he was swarmed with attention. It came with the territory. Maize hated to admit that he admired this come up, but at the same time, he had to be honest with himself—he was worried.
This is going too far. Tony could get killed messing around with this dope game. I gotta stop actin’ all charged and pressed and say something. Yeah, he been givin’ me money and shit, gave me his old car, but this ain’t right. This my boy, my friend. He ain’t listen to Cassidy or his ma
ma. maybe he’ll listen to me though…
He tugged on Tony’s sleeve and pulled him aside.
“Let me holla at you for a minute, man.”
The two stood outside at the back of the car.
“What’s up Maize? Are you okay? You need some money or somethin’?”
“Nah, nah, I’m good. Yo, man, you like a brotha to me.”
“You’re like a brother to me too, Maize. You’re my best friend… besides Cass, even though she’s buggin’ right now.” Tony grimaced and sucked his teeth.
“Man, Cassidy loves you. She’s worried is all. I know what you’re doin’… everyone does, and I’m not here to judge. I ain’t gonna lie though, I wish things were kinda like they were before, you know?”
“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Tony cocked his head to the side and looked down at his diamond pinky ring for a moment.
“You know, when things were safer, when you were doing runs for Fred and the worst that would happen is someone snatchin’ the bag of weed or Doritos and running off. Now though, man, you’re in the big leagues. Sly is one of the biggest dope boys in the hood. He’s pissed off people, Tony. He got a lot of enemies. I just don’t want you in those crossfires, man.”
Tony nodded as if he understood, but Maize wasn’t convinced. The guy had done what they all dreamed of—got his mother out of a hard time. He had some work done on their house, paid off her car. He had a Doberman Pinscher to help keep guard and a few guns, too. He’d even convinced his dopehead brother to go into some outpatient treatment program. Tony’s life looked amazing.
“It’s not like that, okay? I could be making a lot more money than this, but I do just enough to get the shit I and my family need, and some of our wants. I’m not out here showin’ off, you know, hangin’ on the corners. I don’t do street sales. I’m by appointment only. I know you’re worried though; I understand, Maize. It’s cool though. I have a plan. I won’t be doing this forever, just trying to save up enough so I don’t have any more problems, at least not for a while.”
“Nah, I don’t think you do get it, Montana. It don’t matter if you do it for a week or five years. There’s gonna be a target on yo’ back ’cause niggas don’t like to see otha niggas comin’ up, havin’ nothin’. There’s a lot of jealousy and craziness out here. You a White boy that came outta nowhere, done moved here and took over, man! You makin’ people mad! Their girlfriends are checkin’ you out, tryna compete wit’ Cassidy, see if they can fuck you and get on. This is serious, man!” Tony rolled his eyes. “See, you’ve been hypnotized, man. The money got you actin’ funny. How you gonna love your brother and then sell the shit that almost killed him?!”
“He did that shit! That was all Dante’s choice. I can’t control who’s out here getting high. I didn’t create these addicts, man. They’re going to get what they want from somebody. Might as well be me.”
“Do you hear yourself?! Do you understand what you’re sayin’? You two are real close and if you think Sly wasn’t gonna bury that mothafucka, you’re crazy. He don’t give uh fuck about you, Dante, or nobody! This man was gonna smoke yo’ brotha, man! No questions asked! You came to me practically cryin’, beggin’ for money, anything to save his ass, and I understood that shit! I admired you for your strength and courage, for confronting the problem, but Sly coulda blown yo’ head off that night for even steppin’ to him. Then he saw how he could use you for his gain, so he let you live. This ain’t a joke, man! His body count is in the double digits. He don’t play.”
“You got a lot to say about someone you don’t even know. Sly said he didn’t know you.” Maize stared at Tony, not liking at all what he saw in the man’s gray cloud colored eyes. Coldness, aloofness … a certain ‘I don’t give a fuck-ness.’ Tony wasn’t really an emotional mothafucka, but he’d always been able to talk candidly with him. He’d seen his vulnerable side sometimes, like when they’d talked about their dead fathers…
But now…
“He don’t know me, man, but everybody knows Sly, you understand? Tony, this ain’t you, homie. He’s not your friend. You were not made for this. You’re a good guy, man!”
“Am I?” Tony smirked and crossed his arms. The coldness in him now flowed in the air, freezing everything around them.
“Look, Sly is gonna get you caught up in some bullshit! Just like Fred, he is gonna use you to move through spaces where others can’t, only Fred never put yo’ life in danger. You could die from this.”
“Maize, I get it. I’ve heard this shit a million times… from my mother, Cassidy… I’m tired of it, all right? I know it’s dangerous, but it’s temporary. I’m trying to get my family and my girlfriend and her grandmother outta this fuckin’ place. How many times do I have to repeat myself? That takes money, lots of it. Cassidy got accepted in three colleges. She’s waiting on two more responses. She’s leavin’. We have plans to leave together but I need money to make sure she can get her books, all that shit. We’re gonna get a place together while she’s in school, I told you that. I’m the man of my house, so I have to act like it. A man takes care of his fuckin’ family.” Tony glanced over his shoulder. Cassidy was staring at him. After a moment, he turned back around and faced Maize. “I love her, man. She’ll get over this. She’ll understand… it’s not forever.”
“Cassidy never wanted to date a drug dealer, Tony. She wanted to date the guy you were before all of this shit went down. You don’t get it. You might as well be a fuckin’ pimp.”
“Stay out of my fuckin’ business, Maize!” He pointed a finger in his face. “I heard you, you’ve made your point! That’s my girl, not yours! I don’t give a fuck about these other girls out here. She’s the one I want so I am not worried about all the gossip and other bullshit out in these streets. I mind my business, you should mind yours. Tired of this shit!” Tony started to walk away.
“She is my fuckin’ business, nigga!” People turned to look, and so did Tony. “She like a fuckin’ sister to me. I don’t play that shit and here’s a newsflash, mothafucka! Once I saw that she was worried ’bout yo’ punk ass when you first moved here, ain’t have no fuckin’ friends and was fighting all the damn time, I stuck my fuckin’ neck out to give yo’ ass a helpin’ hand!”
“I was resolving that shit on my own! You don’t get all the credit for that. Bullshit!”
“If it hadn’t been for me, you’d still be gettin’ slapped in the back of the head wit’ fuckin’ lunch trays so I don’t know who tha fuck you think you are right now, but I remember the real you!”
“And who’s the real me, man?”
They got into each other’s face, the tension mounting.
“Stop it!” Danica raced over, waving her arms in her black graduation gown. “Y’all best friends! Please don’t do this. It’s our graduation! Whatever beef y’all got, handle it later!”
Maize ignored her and kept on going… This shit had been brewing; now it was frothing over, the eye on the stove piping hot.
“The real you is lost! You’s a square, mothafucka, and that’s a good thing! You done turned into ice! You don’t care about shit. You just out here movin’ weight and stackin’ ends. I wish I could believe this shit was temporary, but I doubt it. You’re power hungry, man!”
“You don’t know me, Maize. This doesn’t have shit to do with power! I think you’re just jealous because you’re still selling pork rinds and bubble gum.”
Maize laughed dismally and shook his head. “Wow… Have you seen yourself lately? You’re gonna lose all your friends and get people latchin’ onto you just ’cause of what you can give them, a bunch of users and losers, people that don’t give uh fuck about you! I been here my entire damn life, man… This place don’t love nobody, homie! You gonna lose yo girl, one of the fly-est women in our entire school who never gave nobody the time of day until yo’ ass rolled up in here! Do you know how many guys wanted Cassidy?!
“You just gonna piss all that away? Where’s the real Tony at, man?! The moth
afucka who would help paint a house wit’ his boys and be happy to be slapped with a ten dollar bill? The mothafucka who’d sneak beer and wine coolers into his bedroom and we’d sit around yo’ bed talkin’ ’bout our dreams? The guy who would invite us all over to Grandmama’s house so we could stuff our faces and watch TV wit’ you and Cassidy? Where’s the dude who would study hard to make good grades so he could go to a good art school and move somewhere nice to become a top illustrator for some big time newspaper or somethin’?”
Tony turned away, looking perturbed and bored. But then he hid that shit quick. He even yawned.
Maize continued, “Where’s the guy who would turn red in the face when Cassidy would kiss your cheek in public? That’s the humble mothafucka I remember, not this wanna be B-Boy gangsta!” He fought back angry tears. Hard to believe what was happening… it was like some bad dream. “This is some bullshit!” His voice cracked. “All that glitter ain’t gold, my nigga! You runnin’ outta time!”
Maize stormed off then, anger flowing through his veins. He didn’t turn back, he didn’t look at Tony, he didn’t even want to see the man’s face…
Thirty minutes later, they were all assembled, their friends and family looking on. Maize looked out into the audience and waved to his mother, grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins. Then he saw Tony’s mother, dressed in a pretty white sundress, and his brother sitting between him and some Mexican guy—he presumed his mother’s boyfriend, who he’d told him about eons ago. He quickly looked away from them, and spotted Cassidy’s grandmother sitting in the front row, wearing a pretty powder blue dress and her hair pulled into a bun.
The ceremony went on as planned, with everyone’s names called as they were handed their diplomas. The cheers were almost deafening. When Tony stepped up, the crowd went wild, like he was some celebrity. Tony glanced at him surreptitiously a time or two, turning away when Maize caught his gaze.