Ties to the Hood
Page 10
He enjoyed school. He even excelled in his classes for some time. He just couldn’t take the constant scrutiny he faced back home. He was from the hood. He didn’t have the sports attached to his need for education, so most thought he was a sucka; something he couldn’t deal with.
Soon, Phil found himself in fight after fight. He felt the need to prove himself to those lurking about street corners, instead of using his brain to free himself from the hood mentality. Brandy and Phil separated for some time. She wanted to continue on in school. She couldn’t deny she loved Phil, but she too found herself cutting class to hang out with him. She started smoking weed at first. It didn’t bother Phil. Brandy was always so high strung, afraid she’d get caught cutting, but the weed relaxed her mind and allowed her to have fun.
Phil created a false sense of security for Brandy, which he would later admit. He knew he couldn’t provide for her or take care of her. Encouraging her to take his path was murder, in a sense. Brandy wasn’t strong willed. She fell for most of the okeydoke, and she did what Phil asked of her, no matter the consequence.
Phil parked down the road from Brandy’s so the car wouldn’t be directly linked to the house if, for some reason, the police did a sweep and ran the plates. He took his time cleaning out the car. He didn’t leave any evidence linking him to Porsha’s missing vehicle. He noticed that Brandy’s car wasn’t out front and figured she was at the store or something. Her mom rarely left the home.
Phil heaved the huge black garbage bag over his shoulder and carried it down the road. He was ready to start over. He had to admit he was tired.
* * *
Shun walked into Cyrus’s hospital room afraid of what he might find. He was bandaged up, but his face was exposed. Doctors said he had a few broken ribs and a few cuts and bruises. Shun was relieved they hadn’t killed him. That was Shun’s job. If he had to put somebody down on his team, he would rather it be him.
Cyrus had a huge look of worry wrapped around his brow when he noticed Shun was in the room. He’d been standing there for about five minutes before Cyrus woke up from his nap. Startled by Shun’s presence, Cyrus started looking about his bed for something to help him flee the situation. He didn’t know who he could trust at that moment.
“Look,” Cyrus started in before Shun could tear into him, “I was only trying to help where Brandy and the money were concerned.”
“You mean help yourself.” Shun buried his chin in his chest, crossing his hands in front of the zipper of his pants. He held this look of frustration and confusion that made Cyrus careful of the words he spewed.
Cyrus continued on as if he didn’t notice Shun staring deep into his eyes. Shun had this stare that didn’t need words attached. You often knew what was up just by his facial expressions. Shun continued to stare at Cyrus, as he waited for the conversation to continue.
“Man, I’m sorry, bro. I don’t want anything to happen to Phil’s kid, man. I’d do whatever was needed to prevent that shit from going down.”
“We gotta get this money,” was Shun’s only response. “To tell you the truth, I’m tired. I just want my family to be okay. I want out of all this, man. You got yo’ ass handed to you. Never thought I would see that coming. I’ve been shot, threatened. I think it’s time for a hiatus.” Shun moved farther into the room and took a seat near Cyrus’s bed and began to tell him exactly what was going to go down within the next forty-eight hours.
* * *
Frankie rolled out of bed, late as always, and checked his voice mail. Shun had called numerous times. He was anxious to see what the urgency was. Shun was yelling bloody murder about getting the drugs in trade for mob connections. He sounded desperate. Frankie hurriedly dressed. Shun said they should meet, and he was down, of course. He and Shun were ace boon coons. He just didn’t trust some of his following, and he wasn’t about to take the wrap for anyone but Shun.
* * *
Phil got up to Brandy’s door and noticed it ajar. He dropped his bag on the porch and pulled his gun out as if he were a cop getting ready to raid a home. He quietly retreated from the porch to check around back. It was unusually quiet. When he didn’t hear his son playing or his grandmother blasting the television, his stomach dropped instantly.
“This bitch didn’t run off with my son, did she?” Phil ran back around to the front of the home, tucking his gun, and walked into the front door. He wasn’t at all prepared for what he saw.
Brandy’s mom lay slain on the kitchen floor. Blood was everywhere. The house was a mess, as if someone was looking for something specific. Phil’s chest began to beat so hard, he was sure his heart would burst. He leaned up against the door after closing it. He was trying to get himself together before searching the rest of the home. He feared he would find his son dead. He was starting to lose it. He said a small prayer and began to run around the home searching each room. His son was nowhere to be found.
Phil let out a sigh of relief and collapsed to his knees. He threw his head into his hands and cried like a baby. His only mission was to find out who killed Brandy’s mom and if his son was next. With Brandy’s record with her drug dealers, violence had been a norm for Phil Junior, and Brandy fought endlessly with the men in her life and the low-life dealers she’d cheated. He didn’t want his son around the shit. It was his reason for staying away. He wanted better for his son. He just couldn’t provide it at the moment.
He needed to man up and pull himself together. His son was out there somewhere, and he was wasting time crying. Phil hoped he was at a friend’s house or playing at the park or something. He pulled himself up from the kitchen floor and stood with his hands on his hips trying to think.
* * *
Brandy was getting more and more frazzled and frustrated by the minute. Sophia didn’t know what to do. The only thing she felt good about was that she was no longer armed. So if Brandy stepped to her, she’d be in for a nice ass whoopin’. She didn’t have time to play with some drug-addicted buffoon. She couldn’t believe what a dumb blond Brandy was. There was absolutely no sign of brain activity as far as she could tell. The fact that Brandy would dare play with the life of her child sickened Sophia, being that she couldn’t have any.
“So you dating Cyrus or Shun?” Brandy made an attempt to talk to Sophia to take her mind off of things.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern. We should be trying to get in touch with Phil, don’t you think? Your mother and son are in trouble.” Sophia was so angry. She spoke to Brandy calm and in a monotone as she did her patients when they weren’t compliant.
“I was just trying to make conversation. You don’t have to be so snotty.”
“Snotty?” Sophia gave Brandy a disgusted look. “Bitch, you pulled a gun out on me. Disrespected Shun’s home. You are nothing but drama, and I just met your ass. You thought we were going to be friends? Please. The only thing you should be trying to do is locate Phil before Shun returns.” Sophia turned on her heel and retreated to Shun’s bedroom. She was making sure she had his clothes laid out and fresh bandages. He had a meeting to get prepared for.
* * *
Phil quickly dried his tears and gathered his composure. He couldn’t stay there or leave his belongings. That would be murder number two he could be implicated in. He grabbed his bag from the porch and walked expeditiously down the road to Porsha’s car. He got almost four cars away when he noticed a patrol car eyeing the vehicle and its plates. Phil turned around quickly and walked as fast as he could back to Brandy’s home, trying desperately not to bring attention to himself. The huge garbage bag on his back would be a giant giveaway. He made a mad dash through the alley of a neighbor’s home about two doors down from Brandy’s home. He paused and ducked down just under the window before hopping the gate to Brandy’s. He fumbled over his pants a bit and scrapped his leg during the jump, but his adrenaline was high. He didn’t feel a thing. Phil bolted inside the back door to Brandy’s and locked the door behind him. He quickly slid down to the
floor and scrambled through the kitchen and living room to lock the front door. There he balled into a fetal position and phoned Shun.
* * *
Shun was talking to Cyrus about meeting with Frankie later that night. They were going to take the trip to Los Angeles to meet up with a few of Frankie’s boys. Ones he could trust to make the trip to the Philippines. Neither Shun nor Cyrus were in any shape to fly clear across the country. It was going to be a dangerous trip, and the physical nature of it all would be strenuous.
Shun heard his phone ringing. He cut Cyrus off as he was explaining trust issues he held about Frankie, though he knew Cyrus too was in the doghouse.
“Yeah!” Shun answered without taking notice of the caller ID.
“Shun, it’s Phil. You gotta help me, man.” Phil hysterically broke down in tears, unable to continue.
“Where you at?” Shun’s stomach dropped with worry as he listened to his cousin tryin’ to regain control. Cyrus sat up in his bed despite the pain, his eyes wide, waiting to hear what was up.
Shun was getting frustrated waiting for Phil to answer his question. “Phil, you there? What’s happening? Where are you? I’m coming! Just let me know where you are.” Shun stood up and bolted toward Cyrus who already knew what it was. Cyrus pulled his intravenous tubes out and swung his legs from the bed as Shun threw him some scrubs from the hospital linen closet.
“I’m at Brandy’s mom’s tilt. Phil Junior’s missing. Ma son is gone, Shun. I don’t know what to do. I found Brandy’s mom dead in the kitchen, and the house ransacked. Man, I’ma kill that bitch. Man, I’ma kill Brandy.” Phil was beginning to break down again as he told Shun of his findings.
“Where is she?” Phil asked.
“She’s at ma tilt. She confessed to murdering Porsha and stealing the money for her drug debts. I don’t know, man. Right now, we need to focus on your son. Fuck that bitch for now.” Shun looked at Cyrus with a stern eye. He had just saved Cyrus for the time being. He figured Phil had enough on his plate to deal with. He would have to deal with Cyrus later. Cyrus stabbed him in the back by giving Brandy drugs and taking the ransom money to cover his own ass.
“Meet me at the store around the block. I don’t want to cause too much attention here at the house. I’m standing in the middle of a fucking crime scene,” Phil said.
“On my way!” Shun said and hung up the phone. Cyrus nodded at Shun, thanking him for keeping quiet about his part in all the mess surrounding Phil’s son.
Shun and Cyrus walked right out the front of the hospital without trouble. The staff had become accustomed to Shun and his partners in crime. They weren’t being held for any criminal activity, so they were free to leave. The nursing staff had since thrown their hands up in exasperation at getting the men to stay put until their wounds were free and clear from possible infection.
Nurse Gertrude, Shun’s old fart of a nurse, waved her good-bye and threw Cyrus a ziplock bag as he passed. “Hope I don’t see you on the news under a sheet.” Nurse Gertrude had no filter. She knew giving him medication was against the rules, but she was near retirement anyhow. They weren’t going to reprimand her too harshly.
Cyrus reviewed the contents of his goodie bag as they exited the building. He was grateful for the meds. “So is Phil’s son okay?” He hesitated to ask. He was scared of the answer.
“For now!” Shun said, jumping into the car. “For now,” he whispered under his breath and sped off after Cyrus motioned that he was safely buckled into his seat.
CHAPTER 14
Loyalty or Power
Shun hit the freeway and drove in complete silence most of the way to Merced. His mind ran in all directions. He was so afraid that Phil would be found and killed before he had the chance to reach him. The thought of Phil hiding out just waiting for his demise burned him. He felt as though most of this was his fault. Yes, Phil was the oldest, but Shun had had the chance to get out of criminal activity, only to be found in such a mess that he too was on the verge of tears.
Cyrus was thinking long and hard about his actions as well. Perhaps it was time to seek rehab. Even if he retained the money to pay off his debt, he’d still have the gambling issue. It would just be a matter of time before he found himself in deep shit again. He prayed Frankie and his boys would come through wit’ the loot, even though he didn’t trust Frankie as far as he could throw ’im. There was something about them Italians that didn’t sit right with him. He just knew something was up, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Shun exited the ramp and entered the small hick town of Merced. He was nervous just drivin’ around. The only reason he would dare enter into Merced was to head up to Yosemite National Park. He could rest easy in the woods. He had a cabin there just in case he needed a break from the city. Kern County, Bakersfield, was quiet, for the most part, but the hood riots were loud enough to request leave from all the madness. Shun was thinking about moving down to Long Beach. With all the money he stood to make on this last drop, he’d have more than enough to tide him over. Perhaps he would finally get the chance to go back to school. He had shared his dreams of becoming an engineer with Porsha. Thoughts of her brought his high down. Shun wasn’t entirely certain he could move forward with Sophia. He was going to try, though.
* * *
Phil took a deep breath and composed himself. He finished his search of Brandy’s home before walking down the block to the store. He told Shun to meet him there, not wanting any connection to the home at all. Phil took a few pictures of his son from the frames and tucked them into his wallet. He inhaled deeply and jogged down the block to the store. He hoped Shun wouldn’t be long. He didn’t want to find himself in another situation and go down for someone else’s crime. Phil had to admit he was afraid of shopping now.
He wasn’t standing out front of the store two minutes before Shun pulled up. Phil was in the worst of spirits but chuckled when he noticed Cyrus in hospital scrubs. He had no idea of his injuries.
“What the fuck happened to you, ma nigga?” Phil asked as he saw just how serious his injuries were after hopping into the backseat.
“I had a run-in with some really bad men. Caught me off guard. It’s what I get. Wrong place. Wrong time.” Cyrus stared out of his window into space. He was trying with all his might not to present tears.
“You okay?” Shun asked Phil.
“Yeah, physically. Just mentally drained and an emotional wreck. I am scared as shit, cuz. I just hope Junior OK. He has to be around here somewhere.” Phil paused a minute before continuing to speak. His mind was racing. Ditching Porsha’s car at Brandy’s mom’s home was sure to put his mug on a wanted poster. He just didn’t have time to think of much else. The police were investigating Porsha’s murder, and the pieces would fall together quickly. He didn’t commit the murder, but he fit the bill.
Phil slumped down in his seat and doubled over a bit. His stomach was hurting.
“I’ma go around the school and a few neighborhood parks close by to see if we see him,” Shun announced. His heart was in his throat, and his hands were sweating. He wasn’t the only one perspiring. Cyrus had broken out into a cold sweat, and he suddenly felt as if his throat was going to close. He adjusted himself in his seat a few times in an effort to keep panic at bay.
“You cool?” Shun asked as he entered the street where Phil Junior attended school. His eyes grew wide when he spotted a bunch of kids standing at the gate engaged in horseplay.
“Yeah, I’m cool. Shit just trippin’. Pull up over there.” Cyrus perked up when he thought he caught sight of some boys playing dice on the side of the school. Phil jolted up in anticipation.
Shun pulled up fast on the four boys playing. He startled them. They scattered, exposing Phil Junior picking up his winnings. He wasn’t going to leave that behind.
“There go his rock head ass right there. He should have been home from school. Thank God he hadn’t been,” Phil said exhaling. He nearly fell out the car to get over to his son.
> “Dad?” Junior asked with a look of confusion on his brow. “What’s up?”
“Get in the car. Everything is fine, son. We’re going on a little vacation.”
“What about Mom? She OK?” Phil Junior hated his mom’s drug addiction, but he took care of her just the same. He didn’t want to leave her hanging. Phil knew as much.
“Your mom and me, we fight a lot, but I still love her. I’ll make sure she’s safe. Now let’s go,” Phil instructed one last time. Junior grabbed his backpack and slid inside the car.
“What’s up, Shun? What’s up, Cy? Why y’all look like y’all about to shit on y’all selves?”
Shun busted out laughing. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, pulling on to the ramp to the freeway. All was well presently, but shit was still funky. It was time to get out of town.
Cyrus smiled as Shun hopped back on the freeway. They needed to hustle back to town to meet Frankie, but Phil wanted to drop his son off at the home of Janie, his local girl, first. He would stay there until they made plans to leave the city.
“Yo! About that shit with Porsha, man,” Phil started in once more.
“Just forget about it. We blood. I didn’t mean for you to get caught up with that broad. I didn’t send her to you to occupy your time. She was on some hater shit. I told her I wasn’t ready for a relationship at the time, and she went ham. She baited you, ma nigga. I’m not saying that I didn’t care for her. I know after a while you did too. She was just confused about the life she wanted to have, is all.” Shun quieted and turned on the radio. He didn’t want to drive the entire way back in an uncomfortable silence.
It wasn’t long before he hit the city limits of Kern County. Cyrus was knocked out about thirty minutes after taking a few Dilaudid. The pain brought him close to tears. Phil simply stared out of the window and watched the country pass by. He felt helpless and alone. The one thing that gave him comfort was the fact he and Shun were together again. At least he had someone to watch his back.