“Fuck it, give me that big-ass Tigger then.”
“This one’s my favorite,” the operator told Chino as he pulled down the gigantic stuffed animal.
“Yeah, Tigger is cool,” Chino confirmed.
“He’s not as big as Winnie to snuggle up with, but he’ll do,” the booth operator told them.
“I don’t need that Winnie,” Chino said, grabbing Tigger away from the operator. “I got my own Pooh to snuggle up with.”
Pam smiled.
“Ain’t that right, Pooh Bear?” Chino asked.
Pam nodded. She liked the name. He was her Chino, and she was his Pooh. It was the first time anyone had given her a pet name. It made her feel really special.
Chapter 10
Me Against the World
“What’s up, kinfolk?” Chino said, greeting Fabian as he strolled into the house. Fabian had two trap houses that he used for business, where big-timers went to score. He was meeting up with his boy to conduct business.
“What up, my dude?” The two exchanged handshakes and a quick embrace.
“Your world, baby,” Chino told him. “I’m just a squirrel trying to get a nut.”
“Right . . . right,” Fabian confirmed. “Come on.” He led Chino to the kitchen where two of his business partners from LA awaited him.
“Sup y’all.” Chino spoke to the dudes sitting around the kitchen table where twenty kilos were stacked.
Chino lifted one and examined the red scorpion on the packaging. “What happened to the tarantula?”
“New supplier, baby boy!” Fabian said excitedly. “This shit is coming up from Texas. Thirteen-five a key.”
“Get the fuck outta here!” Chino told him.
“I’ma hook you up with a eighteen-five ticket.”
“Shit, bet!” Chino said.
“Hey, you remember Lupe and Pepe, don’t you?” Fabian asked.
“Yeah,” Chino nodded, and shook each one’s hand in turn. “What’s happening, fellas?”
“Shit, long-ass drive,” Lupe told him. “I’m about to get outta this muthafucka and go get some sleep.”
“Hell, yeah!” Pepe agreed, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Damn, you short today.” Chino examined the pile on the table.
“Man, you crazy,” Fabian told him. “You just late, kinfolk. I done already moved thirty of these things.”
“Damn, what was it, a fifty stack?”
“You know it!” Fabian said, holding up his hand.
“All right, you the man!” Chino said, shaking his hand once again.
“You muthafuckin’ right, I’m the man.” Fabian grinned. “With this new connect, I can come up strong within a few months. A few months I’ll be out of this shit for good!”
“Damn, you thinking about getting out?” Chino asked.
“That’s the object of the game, holmes,” Fabian told him. “Get what you need and get the fuck out. Don’t make a career of this shit. I’m trying to sit on a coupla mil so I can bust out in a “fat ass” crib, some “tight ass” whips, open my own business, and never have to worry about shit for the rest of my life.”
“Sounds like a winner,” Chino said, nodding.
“Take my advice, bro. Get your money, and get the hell out the game.”
“When I get to where you are, then I can talk about getting out,” Chino said with a smile.
Suddenly a loud noise resonated from the living room. It sounded like glass and wood shattering, then came a barrage of voices.
“Police!” several voices shouted from the living room. “This is a narcotics search warrant!”
Pepe raked the keys off the table into a metal bucket of acid that they had sitting next to it. A couple of the kilos burst open, scattering powder as they struck the corner of the bucket. The vast majority of the kilos landed inside the large vat of acid and dissolved instantly.
“Let me see your hands!” “Hands!” a second officer shouted. “Get down on the ground!” yelled the first officer to enter the kitchen.
Chino held his hands up. “Damn!”
“Slowly, with your hands above your heads, turn around!” the first officer shouted.
Chino, Fabian, Pepe, and Lupe all turned around, leaving their backs to the officers.
“Get down on the ground!” another officer commanded.
Chino dropped down to his knees, with his hands held high above his head. Suddenly he felt his wrists being cuffed.
“You gentlemen are under arrest,” one of the masked officers told them. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”
One of the officers turned Chino around. “Do you understand your rights?”
“Yeah, man.”
The officer turned Pepe around. “Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?”
“Sí!” Pepe confirmed.
An officer turned Lupe and Fabian around. “Do you understand your rights?”
Lupe nodded but Fabian spoke. “No habla Inglese.”
The officer’s masked face looked at Fabian. He could tell by the squint of his eyes that he made the officer mad.
“We need a Spanish-speaking officer in here!”
“Right here!” one of the masked officers said, walking over to Fabian. Tu hablas español?”
“Portuguese,” Fabian confirmed, smiling.
“He speaks Portuguese,” the Spanish-speaking officer told his counterparts.
“This muthafucka speaks English,” one of the masked undercover officers declared. “He’s just trying to bullshit us. Fabian, you know yo ass speaks English!”
“Who do we got here, gentlemen?” another masked plainclothes officer asked.
“We got our target. Quintanilla is here, so are the two drivers, and we got Christonos here as well.”
Another officer scooped some of the wasted powder into a test tube and shook it. The blue liquid inside the tube turned red. “We got a positive for cocaine here!”
The officers cheered.
“Quintanilla, Fabianico, is going away for a long time!” one of the officers declared.
“We got trace residue in the van as well,” the other officer chimed in. “We can connect the two drivers to the conspiracy. Bring me Christonos.”
Two officers grabbed Chino and led him into the next room. A chair was brought in behind him, and he was shoved into it.
The officer bent down and stuck his face in Chino’s. Chino could see the officer’s day-old stubble sprouting from his face. “Your partners are going away for a long time,” one of the undercovers told him. “You’re in a shitload of trouble too. The only question is how much trouble. I’m going to give it to you straight with no chaser. You have two choices. One, you can get a little bit of time by helping us out, or you can get a lot of time by not helping us out. But let me tell you this, it’s time to help yourself. Those guys in the other room, they’re going away regardless. We just need you to fill in the blanks for us on some things. We want to know how much they had, how often those guys brought the drugs, where they came from, and who has been sending the drugs up here to Columbus. Help us out with that and we’ll tell the judge that you cooperated, and we may even work you a supersweet deal where you walk with just probation.”
Chino laughed in their faces.
“What’s funny?” The officer asked. “I didn’t say anything funny.” He turned to the other officers. “Did you say something funny?”
“Nope,” the older officer replied, “but what’s funny is this nigga right here going away for a long time. You son of a bitch!” the officer shouted at Chino. “Let’s get that straight right now! You can do a lot of time, or no time at all. It’s your choice!”
“I want a lawyer,” Chino said calmly.
“You ain’t getting no fucking la
wyer, you black muthafucka!” the officer shouted.
“Fuck you!” Chino shouted.
“Fuck me? No, fuck you!” The officer swung and struck Chino in his jaw. “Talk, you black muthafucka!”
“Fuck you!” Chino shouted.
“Where are the drugs coming from?” the officer said, striking Chino again.
“Fuck you!” Chino shouted.
“How much did they have?” the officer said, striking Chino again. This time, blood flew from Chino’s lip.
“Suck my dick, bitch!” Chino shouted.
The officer struck Chino again, this time leaving a gash across his right eye.
“Fuck you!” Chino shouted. “I ain’t talking! I ain’t telling you shit!”
The officer knocked Chino from the chair and kicked him in his stomach. Chino curled into a ball.
“You talk, you son of a bitch!” the officer shouted.
“Fuck you,” Chino said weakly.
“Get this asshole out of here,” another officer ordered.
Two officers lifted Chino up and dragged him back into the room with Fabian, Lupe, and Pepe, who had heard the whole thing. They saw Chino’s bloody face and beat-up body. Pepe and Lupe exchanged glances. Chino had taken an ass whipping and hadn’t broken. He had held strong. They would report this back to their people.
“You all right?” Fabian asked.
“Fuck them hoes!” Chino said.
Fabian nodded. Chino had held his water under pressure. He hadn’t just been interrogated, he had been beaten. That kind of loyalty meant the keys to the city. Fabian knew for certain he was going away, but he would make sure that Chino was taken care of. He had a cousin in New York that he would hook Chino up with to make sure that he was all right.
“It’s going to be okay, bro,” Fabian told Chino. “You’ll see. Stay strong, and the world is yours.”
Chapter 11
Giving My All to You
“Dang, Pooh, you feel warm as hell.” Chino placed his hand over Pam’s forehead.
“I know. I don’t feel so good.”
Chino wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. He kissed the back of her neck and then climbed out of the bed. “As a matter of fact, you’re burning up.”
She started shivering. “I didn’t feel well yesterday. I woke up last night with a headache, and now I have a fever.”
“Just get some rest, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”
“I can’t just lay in bed all day,” Pam protested. “I have clothes to wash, an exam to study for, I have—” Pam sneezed.
“Bless you!” Chino told her.
“I can’t—”
“You won’t,” Chino interrupted her. “I’ll take care of your clothes and help you study for your test.”
“Yeah, right!” Pam said, trying to sit up. She sniffled and coughed.
Chino gently pushed her back down. “Baby, lay down. I’ll get your books and throw your clothes in the washing machine. Your books are in your backpack, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then,” Chino said, turning to head out of the room.
“Separate my whites!” Pam told him.
He turned to look at her with a grin on his face. “Duh! I know how to wash clothes, girl! I even manage to dress myself some mornings, isn’t that amazing?”
“Okay, you got me,” Pam said mustering a laugh, lifting her hands, signaling no contest.
Chino turned and headed out of the bedroom into the living room. He grabbed her basket of clothes and carried it into the kitchen, where his washer and dryer were tucked away inside a closet. He pulled out her white clothes, placed them inside the washer, added a cup of bleach, a scoop of laundry detergent, and turned the washer on. When he was finished, he closed the top on the washer and walked to his pantry, where he found a can of chicken noodle soup.
Chino carried the soup to his counter, looked inside a drawer, found his can opener, and opened the soup. He looked inside his cupboard, found a microwave-safe bowl, and poured in the chicken noodle soup. He placed the bowl in his microwave.
The microwave beeped to let him know that his soup was done. He found a spoon from his dish drawer, placed the bowl on a plate, and then found some fresh saltine crackers inside his pantry. He placed a sleeve of crackers on the plate next to the bowl, and then carried it all into the room to place the bowl of soup on the nightstand next to the bed. He left and returned from the kitchen with an ice-cold glass of lemonade. He wished that he had some Sprite or 7UP to give her, but he was out. He would have to run to the store and pick some up for her later. He searched his medicine cabinet for a couple of Tylenol to help break Pam’s fever. He found a couple of extra-strength tablets and carried them back into the room with him.
“What’s all this?” Pam asked.
“It’s your breakfast,” Chino told her.
Pam waved him off. “I really don’t feel like eating anything.”
“You’re going to eat and get better, young lady,” Chino said, playfully. He handed her the Tylenol. “Take these.”
Pam sat up, plopped the Tylenol into her mouth, and sipped on the lemonade. Chino took the glass, set it back down on the nightstand, as she lay back on the pillow.
“Sit up,” Chino told her, sitting down on the side of the bed, with the bowl of soup.
“Chino, I don’t feel like eating anything.”
“Sit up,” he gently insisted.
Pam sat up in bed, and Chino lifted a spoonful of soup to his lips and gently blew on it.
“I can’t believe you’re making me eat.”
Chino fed Pam a spoonful of warm soup. “I have to get you better.”
“Do you do this to all of your women?” Pam asked.
“Only the sick ones.” Chino winked.
He fed her another spoonful of soup and then handed her a cracker.
“I haven’t eaten soup and crackers since I was a kid,” Pam told him. “I think the last time I did, I had a cold and my mother fixed it for me.”
Chino smiled and continued to feed her.
Swallowing a spoonful, Pam looked at Chino, smiled, and continued. “I like how you take care of me, Chino. Are you always going to be like this?”
“I’m going to try.”
Pam ate another spoonful and nodded. “I know you are.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Chino looked at Pam and dabbed the napkin at her mouth.
“No, not at all. It’s just scary, that’s all.”
“What’s scary?”
Pam sighed. “I’ve never heard of a man fixing his woman chicken noodle soup, let alone feeding it to her.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, you’ve earned some major points here.”
“Sounds like you’re feeling a little better already.”
“A good man makes his woman feel good.”
“Now I’m a good man, huh?” Chino asked.
“Maybe.”
“Here,” Chino said, handing her the bowl of soup. “Feed your damn self.”
“Chino!” Pam’s eyes grew big as saucers and her mouth fell open in surprise. “I was just kidding!”
Chino laughed at her expression, then suddenly his face became serious. “Hey, baby girl, I have to head to New York for a day or two.”
Pam’s heart thumped hard as she sat quietly and listened.
“My man, Fabian, set me up with his cuz to take over while he’s on lockdown.”
Chino’s recent run-in with the cops had shaken Pam up. This hustla had her tripping, and she was strapped in for the ride. “Chino . . .”
Chino walked into the living room and pulled out the only textbook she had inside her pack.
“World Civilizations!” he exclaimed. “My best subject!”
Pam laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“Girl, I used to teach world civilizations,” Chino said smiling, sitting in the bed next to her. “What do you want to know about?”
“My people!” Chino said. “Invented all the important shit.”
“Like what?” Pam asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Oh, you trying to test me, huh?”
“What did they invent?” Pam asked. “Name one thing.”
“The motorcycle!”
“Boy, get the hell outta here!” Pam laughed, trying to shove Chino off the bed.
“What?”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. How in the hell are you going to help me study?”
“Because I’m the man. Let’s see.” Chino reached for the history book.
Pam pulled it back.
“That’s okay, I don’t need no book to tell me about my people. We’re an oral people anyway. I don’t need no white folks to tell me that we were the first to navigate by the stars, or to invent the science of astronomy, or to domesticate animals, or to irrigate based on the seasons along the banks of the Nile.”
“Chino!” Pam said. Her mouth fell open.
Chino laughed.
“How do you know those things?”
“Girl, don’t underestimate me.”
“Chino!”
“You think that I’m just some dumb-ass street nigga, don’t you?”
“No, I never thought that. I know you’re smart, but . . .”
“But I shouldn’t have any book-smarts, huh? I shouldn’t know as much as my big-headed girlfriend? I shouldn’t know that Akhenaton was the first to proclaim one true god and thus invent monotheism. I shouldn’t know that the Egyptian pyramids were astronomically aligned, or that the pharaoh Sesostris had conquered the entire known world. I shouldn’t know that Hatshepsut ruled as a man, or that Thebes was the center of Egyptian religious life, or that the Greek deities were copies of Egyptian ones?”
Pam’s mouth remained wide open.
Chino pulled the book out of her hand. “Now c’mon, Pooh, let’s study and get you an A on this exam.”
Chapter 12
Right Place, Right Time
“I love New York!” Chino shouted out the window. “New York, New York, big city of dreams!”
The Reason Why Page 5