Dope Girl 4: R. I. P.

by Sa'id Salaam

  “Ok, ok, dang,” Bad Ass surrendered. “I’m just saying…”

  “Don’t say shit! Just fucking listen! With your…your…”

  “Bad Ass?” Self slipped in between giggles. “A-yo I got him.”

  “Don’t got him, get him. Before I do,” Cameisha barked and put the car back in gear. She was still grumbling when she pulled back into I-20 traffic. Still mumbling when she exited on Candler Road and into Eastwyck.

  “There go my Angel!” Self said proudly when he spotted Angel and Leera. Angel was a jet-black sixteen-year-old with thick hair down her back. The tiny white short set she wore almost seemed to glow in contrast to her dark skin. Light-skin Leera was as short and as thick as her friend was. She wore a matching short set in bright pink.

  “Y’all little niggas be careful,” Cameisha said sincerely. She tried to sound hard but failed.

  “I got condoms,” Self replied assuming that’s what she meant. It was a classic half-truth. He did have a fresh three pack of lubed, ribbed, glow in the dark condoms but had no intention of using them.

  “Yo, you don’t think we should have a hammer?” Bad Ass asked when he got out of the car.

  “For what? We ain’t tryna take these niggas to war. We tryna ease in and take over,” Meisha explained calmly. Naively actually. No way, they would be able to take over without bloodshed. This is the jungle and that’s the law.

  “Then I’ma put you and Self in charge out here. Y’all gon’ run this,” she said stroking his little ego. It worked too.

  “That’s what’s up,” he nodded with his chest out. Leera saw the smile on his face and assumed it was for her.

  “Hey Bad Ass,” she said making it sound like a lyric to a love ballad.

  “Yeah, hey,” he grumbled and accepted her hand as they made their way down the hill.

  “My mama home,” Angel pouted once their kiss ended. “She gon’ be trippin’.”

  “I’ll holla at her. Yo, your brother home? I need to holla at him too,” Self replied.

  “What you need to talk to my brother about?” she wanted to know.

  “Bout some business ma, be easy,” he said calming her little nerves.

  “I’ll call him…later,” she said indicating he was getting some ass first.

  “After,” he replied knowing he was getting some ass. As soon as they entered Angel’s apartment her mother started bitching in the kitchen. Lil’ Self went straight in to talk to her.

  It wasn’t much of a conversation. He merely retrieved four fat nicks from his pocket and extended his hand. The junky did a double take at the glass and passed gas.

  “Excuse me,” Ms. Johnson giggled. “Fo’ me?”

  “For you. You wouldn’t mind if we all hang out over here would you? Smoke a blunt?” he asked sweetly. So sweetly, she couldn’t say no.

  “Not at all! Y’all have fun, I’m finna go smoke these with Mary!” Ms. Johnson proclaimed. She stood up and drained her water glass full of warm malt liquor then slid out the back door.

  Self came back out and took Angel by the hand. They marched straight up the stairs to her bedroom.

  “Hoe!” Leera called out playfully as if she wasn’t about to do the same thing she was going to do.

  “Come here,” Bad Ass ordered the second they were alone. He pulled her on to his lap and stuck his tongue in her mouth. They kissed, grouped, and shed their clothes right there on the sofa. Leera generously put one foot on the floor and the other up on the back of the sofa. It was a formal introduction to her cervix. An invitation Bad Ass gladly accepted.

  Bad Ass rolled a condom on and plunged inside of the girl. The youngin’ had one speed, fast. The sound of skin slapping together filled the air and he slammed in and out of her like a jackhammer. At that rate, it didn’t take long for him to grunt and fill his condom up. He grinded once or twice and jumped right up.

  “I’m ‘bout to hit the store,” he announced standing up.

  “Huh?” Leera asked accordingly. She knew she was a jump off, but that was a first. “Um…ok?”

  Bad Ass waddled to the half-bath with his pants around his ankles. He pulled the condom off and tossed it in the toilet. Then he got a lesson on trying to clean off with toilet paper. In the end he stuck his dick under the faucet to remove the cum and stuck on tissue.

  “Pick me up some Ju-Ju Beans, Starburst and orange…” Leera said trying to place her order as Bad Ass sped through the living room. He was out the door before she got it all out. With nothing else better to do, she snuck up the stairs to spy on her friend.

  Leera practically grew up in that apartment so she knew which steps creaked loudly and avoided them. The raggedy old door to Angel’s bedroom had a space between the jam, which allowed her to see straight in. She arrived to catch the end of an extended foreplay session. In other words, right on time for the action.

  “So…we go together now?” Angel asked hopefully, between kisses. The teen might have been a little easy but she was no hoe. She was looking for love and sometimes you have to fuck to find it. Angel was a ride or die chick in the making. As soon as someone worthy came into her life she would ride or die.

  “If you want,” Self agreed. He was already smitten with the girl so why not lock her in. “Yeah you my girl.”

  Angel’s panties got even wetter so she snatched them off and tossed them aside. She usually insisted upon condoms but allowed him inside of her raw. Leera felt a tinge of envy watching her friend make love.

  She never made love, just got fucked. She longed for the face-to-face, eye contact, slow grind sex her friend was getting. She decided she would let Self make love to her too. He wouldn’t be the first dude she fucked behind her friend.

  The show ended when Self pushed deep inside and deposited half on a baby. Leera crept away as they kissed some more.

  ****

  Bad Ass ventured out of the apartment and looked around. He spotted an obvious junkie and took note. The pep in her step meant she was going to cop so he fell in line behind her. She walked to the basketball court turned drug market. No one played ball anymore but you could get weed, pills, or crack. That was what he had been searching for.

  “A-Yo, what’s poppin’ out here?” Bad Ass cheered, announcing his presence.

  All the trapper’s faces frowned at the intruder with the New York accent. They all looked around at each other to see who knew him. The frowns deepened when no one claimed him. He was officially bait.

  “Who you here fo’? You tryna shop?” Lil Capo asked with his head cocked to the side.

  “Yo I’m out here with a shawty. I just smashed so I came to see what the trap hitting on,” he replied digging his hole deeper.

  “What, you got yams?” Shawty asked. Shawty was called Shawty because he was short. He might have been 5’2” but he was a grown ass man. Physically anyway. The 35-year-old man went to prison at fifteen and came home twenty years later at seventeen years old mentally. He was out in the trap smoking, dancing, rapping, and trapping with kids young enough to be his kids. He went to prison for robbery and hadn’t learned his lesson yet.

  “Yams? Nah so. I got Jums!” Bad Ass flaunted and whipped out the work. That was the last thing he was going to remember. Shawty socked him so hard; he was sound asleep when he hit the ground.

  “Damn this some fiyah!” Shawty celebrated when he pulled the dope out of his pocket. Devin shoved his hand in the other pocket and took what cash Bad Ass had.

  That set off a chain reaction and everyone wanted to take something from the intruder. Capo snatched off his new sneakers while Tweek took the chain from his neck. Tamir pulled off his designer jeans while Stewart got the matching shirt.

  “Where you going?” Capo asked Shawty as he eased away.

  “I’m finna take this dope home. We can’t let these smokers get a taste of this shit, not with that babbit Black feeding us!” he explained.

  It sounded reasonable because it was half-true. They really couldn’t afford for the jun
kies to get a taste of some good dope since they couldn’t provide it on a regular. The other half was that Shawty was going to go smoke that shit.

  “Oh yeah,” Capo nodded, going for it. He sent his new shoes home and went back to trapping while Bad Ass slept.

  ****

  “Where yo’ friend at?” Angel asked her pouting friend as she limped downstairs. Self was right behind her with a smug look on his face since he gave her the limp.

  “I’on know; said he was going to the sto’. That was awhile ago though,” she answered. She gave Self a long, lustful glance that lingered on his crotch. Angel saw it and was about to check her until the front door suddenly swung open.

  Ms. Johnson bust in looking wild and wide-eyed crazy.

  “That’s him!” she shouted and pointed right at Self. The poor kid was scared to death. He started to take off out the back door until he saw it was another junkie who came in behind her and not the police or jackers. “That’s that nigga that gave me that good ass dope!”

  “You gave my mama some dope?” Angel whined. She knew her mother was a junkie but tried her best to save her. Truth be told, there was no saving her. She, like a lot of addicts wouldn’t be free until her casket closed.

  “Chile leave him ‘lone. You can’t keep no man by nagging him!” her mama chided. At least that part was true. Y’all listen to Mama and stop nagging. “Come on in the kitchen.”

  Self followed Ms. Johnson into the kitchen with Mary right behind him to make sure he couldn’t get away. He shrugged helplessly at Angel as he left.

  “Let me get ‘fo!” Mary yelled extending a fresh twenty in her beat up old hand that looked like a monkey paw.

  That sale set off a chain reaction. Word of the good dope spread like a wild fire. Mama Johnson ran back and forth making a smokable commission off each sale. Once the word hit the trap, someone called Black.

  “What happened to you?” Leera shouted when a half-naked Bad Ass came through the door.

  “Them niggas robbed me,” he said to Self as if he was the one who asked. Self just shook his head and grabbed his phone.

  “A-yo Meish, come through. We may have a problem.”

  Chapter 10

  Self was notoriously bad at keeping his phone charged. The device was useless more often than useful. It cut off halfway through him explaining what happened. She wasn’t sure what was going on, so she grabbed a tech-nine along with a change of clothes for Bad Ass.

  Trigga was on the west side handling his business and Jackie was caught up as well. Aqua was pregnant so she went alone. Then again, with thirty-rounds in the clip you’re not really alone.

  Meisha’s busy mind ran through all kinds of possible scenarios as she raced towards Decatur. It dawned on her then how much she cared about the little misfits. They were the little brothers she never had. And if anything happened to them, she was going to murder whoever did it. Her foot sank further on the gas as she sped to Eastwyck.

  “Something going on fo’ sho!” Black explained to his right hand man Sparks sitting beside him. He got word that some good dope was coming out of his Mama’s house and he knew good and damn well he didn’t have any good dope. It wasn’t unusual for him to drop a bomb off for his mother to hustle and smoke on, but it was the same babbit he pushed off on the trap boys.

  When he got the word, he went to investigate. He parked his donk across the street and watched. Watched his mother scurry to and fro higher than the 30-inch rims on the Chevy. The candy colored car didn’t even register to Cameisha when she pulled up. She slammed the Benz in park and hopped out.

  “Damn that bitch got a fat ass!” Sparks shouted and clapped. A fat ass does deserve a round of applause after all.

  “Can’t be no smoker,” Black agreed. She was also a little too old to be friends with his sister so he got out to investigate.

  “Hey,” Angel sang warmly as she opened the door. Self had spoken so highly and so much of his big sister that she loved her too.

  “Sup yo,” Meisha shot back scanning the room for danger as she stepped inside. She gripped the Tech tightly in the large designer purse containing Bad Ass’ clothes. Anything or anyone out of place would have caught a three shot burst from the machine pistol. Her eyes settled on Bad Ass nearly naked on the sofa. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I wanna know,” Black said as he entered behind her. Meisha spun around and almost fired through the bag until she saw both men’s empty hands.

  “He got jumped,” Self explained while Bad Ass pouted.

  “By who? Why? Where they at? Why?” she growled down at him.

  “Oh you the one came through the trap?” Black laughed since news of that had reached him as well.

  “The trap? You was in the trap? What part of go slow, be easy, don’t you understand?” Cameisha scolded with Sparks’ eyes glued to her ass.

  “Uh…who are you? Why y’all in my mama’s house?” Black interjected.

  “This my boyfriend, his brother, and their sister!” Angel said protectively rushing to Self’s side.

  “Ok, so, who ‘posed to be selling dope out of here?” he inquired twisting his lips and cocking his head.

  “No one. We just…”

  “I need five mo’!” Mama rushed in cutting Self off before he could finish his lie. All eyes shot to him for explanation. He shrugged and served her since the cat was out of the bag.

  “Hol’ up Mama, let me see that,” Black frowned at the dope. It wasn’t one of those frowns people make when they’re upset. It was the kind dudes make when they see a fat ass. The kind Sparks still wore because he was still staring at Cameisha’s ass. “Wow! Where you get this shit from lil’ man?” Black asked turning back to Self.

  “Me!” Cameisha answered for him. “I…my people got a good connect on some good dope. Holla at me if you tryna shop.”

  “Um, excuse me. You bring me some clothes?” Bad Ass finally spoke up.

  “Here,” she answered pulling a pair of jeans and shirt from out of the purse. “I ain’t know you needed shoes. Self let him wear your sneakers." Lil’ Self didn’t flinch at the odd command. He kicked his sneakers off and sat them in front of Bad Ass.

  “We need to talk a lil’ business,” Black offered.

  “First things first. My brother gotta go straighten his face. We can’t go out like that yo,” Meisha explained.

  “I respect that,” Black nodded. “We can go ‘round to the trap and let him handle his business. I’ll make sure no one jumps in.”

  “So will I,” she said to Sparks’ amusement. He chuckled at the cute girl thinking she could prevent the young wolves from eating the boy if they chose to do so. That’s because he didn’t have x-ray vision and couldn’t see the Tech-9 in the bag.

  Bad Ass had absolutely no bitch in him. Not a trace. When Black hit the door, he was right behind him. Sparks allowed Cameisha to go ahead of him so he could stare at her ass some more. Self and the girls were in the rear.

  “Here come that lil’ nigga,” Devin laughed until his mind registered Black and the rest.

  His mind was too slow to process the information so he shrugged and waited for someone to explain it to him. Black opened his mouth to speak, but Cameisha beat him to it.

  “A-yo, which one of y’all jumped my brother?” she demanded with her hand in the bag. No one present had any idea how close to a massacre they were at that second. The wrong word and Cameisha would have aired it out.

  “Look shawty, that nigga came through the trap and tried to set up shop. He gotta respect the game,” Capo explained.

  “Oh we respect the game. Now he wants a one with everybody who touched him!” she shot back.

  “Say no more,” Tweek said still wearing Bad Ass’s chain. As soon as he stepped up Bad Ass bombed on him.

  The punch staggered the teen, but he came right back. He traded punches evenly until they both were knotted up pretty good. It was a close fight so Black stepped in and broke it up.

  “G
ive him his shit back,” Black insisted. Tweek huffed and puffed, but complied. He handed both the chain along with his respect to Bad Ass.

  “You too,” he said and socked Stewart in his jaw. Stewart was a little too much for him and got him down. Once the fight was reduced to a wrestling match, Black broke it up too.

  Next came Tamir, Devin, and Capo. Bad Ass fought all of them win, lose, or draw. Shawty arrived on the scene as Black pried Capo and Bad Ass apart. As soon as Bad Ass saw him, he went for him too.

  “A-yo, hold up!” Cameisha shouted when she got a closer look at Shawty. She took him for a teen due to his height, but up close, she saw the frown lines in his face and a trace of grey in his temples. “Nigga how old are you?”

  “He old enough to be my daddy,” Tamir ratted. He was no snitch but he couldn’t stand the grown man who hung out with them.

  “Bitch who you ‘posed to be,” Shawty quizzed balling his fist up. He was high as a kite from smoking the good dope and feeling no pain. Not yet anyway.

  “Your old ass out here robbing kids? Self hold my purse,” she insisted. Self started to complain about holding a purse until he saw the Tech inside.

  “I ain’t finna fight no bitch,” Shawty griped and got punched right in his mouth. He opened his mouth to speak and got popped again. “Bitch!” Shawty yelled and attacked. Dude had a mean sucker punch game but couldn’t fight a lick. He swung wildly and paid dearly for every punch.

  Cameisha went into counterpunch mode and punished him every time he swung. She would either duck, dip, or dodge a looping punch then deliver combinations consisting of jabs, hooks, and uppercuts.

  “Damn that bitch got a fat ass!” Sparks insisted once more.

  “Damn that bitch can fight,” Black responded as she thoroughly whooped Shawty’s ass. That one he wouldn’t break up because he didn’t have much respect for Shawty either.

  Actually, he didn’t have to break it up because Cameisha intended to beat him to sleep. A Mike Tyson-esque uppercut lifted him up and dropped him right on his ass. If he hadn’t had so much coke in his system he would have been sound asleep. Instead, he lay flat on his back, eyes wide open, daydreaming.