The Reason Why

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “Chino, you got God looking over yours,” Pam told him matter-of-factly. “This is the second time this month you’ve been shot at and look at you—barely a scratch.”

  “A scratch?” Chino asked, pointing toward his head. “You call this barely a scratch?”

  “At least it’s not a bullet hole!” Pam scolded. “Christonos, God had his hands cupped around you protecting you, and now you want to go out and harm someone else?”

  “Pam, that son of a bitch has terrorized Columbus for the last two years. He’s got everybody scared as hell. Well, he’s fucked with the wrong nigga now. I’m going to kill his ass.”

  Pam exhaled and shook her head. “Where is he from?”

  “Some people say they think he’s from Louisiana, but who knows? All I know is that I’m going to put a bullet in his shrimp-smelling, gumbo-eating, jambalaya-looking ass. If that fool is from Louisiana, he’s going back to the dirty dirty in a pine box.”

  “They don’t send people across country in pine boxes anymore. This isn’t the Wild West.”

  “Tell them that!” Chino said. “Hell, I thought I was in the middle of the O.K. Corral the way them fools was busting at me.”

  “Hold still, boy!” Pam said, placing a fresh gauze over Chino’s wound. She grabbed some strips of tape that she had peeled off, and taped the gauze over his wound. “There, that should do.”

  “Thanks, Pooh.” Chino pulled Pam close and kissed her. “All I could think about was you.”

  “Boy, please!” Pam pushed him away from her.

  “For real! All I wanted to do was make it back to my Pooh.”

  Pam folded her arms and pursed her lips. “Yeah, right.”

  “That’s the truth, Pooh. Making it back to you is what kept me alive.”

  “Okay, Christonos. You know what? You’re a smooth-ass talker. I’ll give you that much.”

  “You gonna give me more than that!” Chino said, rising. “You gonna give me some of that suga!”

  Chino grabbed Pam, lifted her into the air, and spun her around. She screamed the whole time.

  “Boy, put me down!”

  “I love you, Pooh!”

  “Okay!”

  “Okay? Okay, my ass! Let me hear it!”

  “Hear what?”

  “I love you, Chino.”

  “Why would I say that?”

  “Because you do!” Chino spun her around again.

  “Aaaaaah!” Pam screamed. “Put me down!”

  “Say it!”

  “Okay, okay, if you want to make me say it, then I’ll say it.”

  “I’m making you say it because you’re acting like a scary-ass punk. You can say how you really feel to me, Pooh. You don’t got to hide your feelings. If you love me, then let that shit be known.”

  “Chino, what are you talking about?”

  “You love me, Pooh, but you’re afraid to tell me. You act like if you say it, then I’ll somehow hurt you. Well, here’s a secret, Pooh. Whether you say it out loud or not, you still feel it. And if I fuck up, then you’ll still feel the same amount of pain, whether you said that shit out loud or not. So you might as well say it.”

  “What if I don’t feel that way, Chino?” Pam asked. “You still want me to say it?”

  “I know that you do feel that way.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. I felt it when you thought I was asleep and you were crying and caressing my face. Because I heard your big-head ass whisper it when you thought that I was still out of it.”

  “Chino!” Pam shouted. She was embarrassed. He had heard her deepest feelings. “You asshole!”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Pooh.” Chino put Pam back down and pulled her close. “I promise you that, Pooh. I’ll never hurt you or let anybody else hurt you. I’d rather walk through hell with gasoline drawers on than hurt you. Do you understand that?”

  No man had ever professed his love for her. Tears welled up in Pam’s eyes. She suppressed a sniffle and turned her head away. She couldn’t cry in front of him, or let him know that she had bought into what he had just said. She had to maintain.

  “Why do you do that, Pooh?”

  “Do what?”

  “Resist showing me your feelings?” Chino pulled her hands down away from her face and stared into her eyes. “Pooh, I’m not after you to hurt you. We’re on the same team. This is not a battle between us, or a test of wills. We don’t have to protect ourselves from each other. We have to protect each other from what’s out there. Beyond that door is our enemies. That world is what we are fighting together. I need for you to understand that, Pooh.”

  “Chino, you just have to understand that I’ve never felt like this about anybody before. I’m still young. I’ve never put my trust in anybody like this before. And then you have to understand that you’re cute and you have a lot of money, and a lot of girls want to talk to you. I’m scared to get hurt.”

  “Pooh, I chose you,” Chino said, softly. “Those other girls can say what they want to say, do what they want to do, but that don’t mean shit to me. I’m here, Pooh, because I want to be here, and because I couldn’t help it if I tried. I’m in love with you, girl. You have my heart. I couldn’t help it, or change it, and I don’t want to. I like it like this, Pooh. I love being in love with you.”

  Chino lifted her hand and kissed her fingers one by one. “I love being wrapped around this cute little finger of yours.”

  “Oh, God!” Pam said, throwing her head back. “Chino, you better not hurt me! Do you hear me? You better not ever hurt me!”

  “I’ll hurt me before I hurt you.” Chino pulled her close and kissed her. “Now come on and ride with ya man.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the Benz dealership. Them fools fucked off my Porsche, so now it’s time to step it up and go top dog.”

  “Boy, being flashy is how they found you in the first place,” Pam warned. “When are you going to learn?”

  “That’s right. That Benz is going to draw the niggas like moths to a flame.” Chino smiled, pulled out his new handgun, and cocked it. “But this time, they ass is going to get burnt for real!”

  Chapter 20

  Money to Burn

  Chino pulled up to the spot in his brand-new, porcelain white Mercedes Benz 560SEL. It had a full AMG kit and porcelain white and chrome AMG rims. The interior was white, with black piping around the seats, and a dark zebrano wood trim. It was truly a sight to behold.

  “What the fuck?” Ant said the moment Chino pulled into the spot. Chris turned to see what Ant was talking about.

  “No this nigga didn’t!”

  Rock looked up and saw what the others were looking at. His mouth fell open when he saw the car, and he tapped Joe Bub Baby on the shoulder. Joe Bub looked up from the ground where he was shooting dice.

  “Fuck me!” he shouted.

  Infa stood staring at Chino and shaking his head. “This nigga is crazy!”

  Chino blew the horn and climbed out of his Benz. “What up, my niggas?”

  He and his new car were quickly surrounded.

  “Nigga, what the fuck are you thinking?” Joe Bub asked. “A Benz? A five-sixty at that?”

  “Didn’t you just barely get away from Jo Jo and them niggas?” Chris J asked. “And now you go and knock off a Benz? What are you asking for—death, nigga?”

  “Fuck them niggas!” Chino shouted. “Them niggas can’t control what I buy. Fuck them hoes! If they want to try it again, bring it on!”

  “I can’t believe you, my nigga,” Corey said. “If it was me, I’d a bought another Porsche. A faster one than the one I had.”

  The crew burst into laughter.

  “Shut yo silly ass up!” Rock told him. He turned to Chino. “This bitch is clean, kinfolk!”

  “I was gonna go and buy one of these bitches,” Joe Bub declared, “but now, since you got a white one, I’ma have to get me an ice blue one.”r />
  “Like that one we seen the other day?”

  “That’s the one!” Joe Bub confirmed to Ant.

  “That bitch was clean,” Ant told them. “It was ice blue, sitting on some chrome AMGs, with a cocaine white interior.”

  Corey’s eyebrows rose. “Why do niggas always describe white as being cocaine white? Nigga, just say white!”

  “Fuck you, nigga!” Ant retorted.

  Again, the crew laughed.

  “I don’t know if I would have did this, kinfolk,” Infa told Chino. “I would have laid low for a minute.”

  “Fuck them niggas!” Chino said. “This is our muthafucking town! I know we ain’t gonna let some out-of-town ass niggas intimidate us like that.”

  “Don’t listen to this nigga!” Rock said, pointing to Infa. “He’s one of them tuck-in-his-chain ass niggas!”

  Again the crew burst into laughter.

  “Man, I’m just being real. Let’s find them niggas first and put some work in on they ass.”

  “Man, them niggas is lying up somewhere, recuperating from them bullet holes I put in them,” Chino said. “Let them hoes know that a Cleveland nigga don’t bar nobody!”

  Rock shook his head to clear the memory of all the shit that had gone down and looked at Chino. “So, how you feeling, kinfolk?”

  “Shit, better.”

  “You sure?” Chris J asked.

  “Yeah, nigga!” To prove it, he put his dukes up and started shadowboxing in Chris’s face. “I’m good. Ready to dance.”

  Chris J waved Chino off. “Not even on your best day, nigga. You couldn’t fade these hands. These are lethal weapons.”

  “Nigga, this is one bad-ass pussy machine,” Corey said, peering inside the Benz. “Hoes are gonna be throwing their panties at you now.”

  “I can’t wait to pull up to the club in this bitch and watch them haters’ eyes pop out,” Chino said.

  “Them Cleveland niggas is gon’ be hating!” Infa said. “So is them Youngstown niggas, and them Cincinnati niggas.”

  “And a whole bunch of Columbus niggas!” Rock confirmed, glancing toward Joe Bub.

  “So, what you niggas doing?” Chino asked. “Y’all ain’t balling?”

  “I’m taking these young niggas’ money in this crap game,” Joe Bub Baby declared. “You can get some too if you like.”

  “You ain’t said nothing, nigga,” Chino told him. “High made gets the baby teeth.”

  “You can have the baby teeth first!” Joe Bub handed Chino the dice.

  “You done fucked up now!” Chino shook the dice vigorously in his hand.

  Joe Bub Baby shrugged. “Your luck ain’t been too hot lately, so I ain’t worried.”

  “Wrong!” Chino rolled the dice. “I’m still here, nigga!”

  The dice hit on a five and a two.

  “Bust that ass!” Chino shouted.

  Joe Bub tossed a hundred-dollar bill at Chino and threw another on the ground. Chino grabbed the dice and rolled again. This time a four and a three came up.

  “Bust his ass, baby girl!” Chino shouted.

  “Damn!” Joe Bub shouted. He threw down another C-note.

  Chino picked up his winnings and rolled the dice again. “C’mon, baby girl!” This time he rolled a six and a one.

  “Fuck!” Joe Bub yelled. He kicked the dice through the parking lot. “Old jinxy-ass monopoly dice!”

  “That’s Corey’s jinxy-ass shit!” Ant said laughing. “Stop taking the dice out of your family’s board games, nigga!”

  “Nigga, you took them out the board games, ole Monopoly-playing muthafucka.” Everyone laughed. “Besides, you thought they was lucky when you was winning!”

  Joe Bub pulled a different set of dice out of his pocket and handed them to Chino, who gave them a questioning look.

  “What I’m gonna do with these red ass dice?”

  “Nigga, these dice are like chum!” Joe Bub said, laughing.

  “What the fuck is some chum, nigga?” Rock asked.

  “Corey, explain to this nigga what chum is.”

  “Chum is blood and fish parts,” Corey explained. “They bring sharks closer to the boat so muthafuckas can get ’em.”

  “That’s right!” Joe Bub wailed. “These red dice is like chum. They bring niggas like you who think they sharks right to Joe Baby, and that when I fuck you up!”

  “Old Discovery Channel–watching ass nigga!” Rock joned. “Speak English, muthafucka!”

  “Take yo ass back to high school!”

  “Fuck you, nigga! The streets is my high school, and now I’m the teacher in this bitch!”

  Joe Bub looked at Chino. “Roll the dice.”

  Chino took one look at the dice and tossed them in the direction that Joe Bub had kicked the other dice.

  “What the fuck you doing!” Joe Bub shouted. “Them is my lucky dice!”

  “The other ones were my lucky dice!” Chino told him.

  “Man, fuck this game!” Chris J said. “I’m broke now anyway.”

  They all got up and started walking toward Chino’s new ride.

  “Let’s ride!” Infa said, walking around the Benz to the passenger seat.

  “Who said you got shotgun?” Chris J asked.

  “Because I’m the best-looking nigga out here. Ugly muthafuckas ride in the back. You niggas scare the bitches off!”

  “Old bucket-head-ass nigga!” Chris shouted.

  Chino climbed into the driver’s seat. Corey, Chris J, and Rock climbed into the back, while Infa hopped into the front passenger seat. Chino turned up the stereo, and the Triple Crown Posse hit the streets of Columbus to be seen in the new Benz.

  Chapter 21

  Keeping Score

  “Face, nigga!” Chino said, swishing the basket in a jump shot over Rock.

  “That ain’t shit! We gon’ win this muthafucking game. Y’all can’t win again! C’mon, y’all!”

  “If Chino quit fouling!”

  “Aw, nigga, what the baby gon’ do?” Chris J shouted at Joe Bub Baby.

  Rock dribbled the ball down the court, Infa picked him up, and Rock passed the ball to Ant, who passed it to Corey. Young Mike stole the ball from Corey and ran down the court. He tossed it to Infa, who tossed it to Chris J, who tossed it back to Young Mike for an easy layup.

  “Foul, nigga!”

  “How in the hell you gonna call a foul way the hell back there?” Infa asked Joe Bub.

  “Young Mike fouled when he stole the ball!”

  “How in the hell you gonna call that?” Chino challenged.

  “Corey didn’t even call it!” Infa shouted.

  “And that shit is late as hell!” Chris J added. “You gonna call a foul after a nigga done went down the court and made the basket and shit. Damn, you still gonna be calling fouls when a nigga at home eating dinner and shit?”

  Chino, Rock, Infa, Young Mike, and Chris J laughed.

  “Man, fuck you!” Joe Bub told him. “Y’all niggas be cheatin’ and shit. Chino fouling every time he come down the court.”

  “Man, ain’t nobody fouled you!” Chino said, waving Joe Bub off.

  “Man, are y’all gonna cry or are we gonna play ball?” Rock shouted, getting irritated at what the guys were doing.

  “Let’s play ball!” Infa shouted.

  Ant took the ball out, and Rock dribbled it downcourt. He got caught on a back slash running toward the basket and rocketed the ball to him for a quick layup.

  “Deuce, niggas!” Corey shouted.

  Chino took the ball out, passing it to Infa. Infa passed it to Young Mike, who had the best handles on the court. He was even better than Rock when it came to handling the pill. Young Mike drove to the basket and kicked the ball back out to Chris J, who passed it to Chino, who was trailing. Chino pulled up for a quick three and swished the ball.

  “That’s a foul-ass screen!” Joe Bub Baby shouted. “That was some bullshit, Chris!”

  “What?” Chris asked, turning up his palm. “I a
in’t moved.”

  “Yeah, whatever!” Joe Bub said.

  Ant took the ball out, and again Rock dribbled down the court. He pulled up at the three-point line and swished the ball.

  “Face, niggas!” Rock said, beating his chest.

  Young Mike took the ball out, passing it to Infa, who dribbled it downcourt. He passed the ball to Chino, who passed it to Young Mike. Young Mike caught Chris J and gave him an alley-oop. Chris J slammed the ball so hard the backboard shook.

  “Yeah, niggas!” Chris J shouted. “Get with that!”

  Corey took the ball out, and Rock dribbled it down the court. Beneath the net, Joe Bub Baby and Chino were fighting for position. Joe Bub grabbed Chino’s arm and slung him to the ground.

  “What the fuck is up with you?” Chino asked.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Rock asked Joe Bub Baby.

  “Man, fuck that nigga!”

  Chino got up off the ground and dusted himself off. “Fuck you, nigga!”

  “Joe Baby, you on some bullshit today!” Ant said.

  “For real!” Corey agreed.

  “What’s up, kinfolk?” Infa looked from one man to the other.

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with me!” Joe Baby shouted. “Ask that fouling-ass nigga right there!”

  “I ain’t fouled you!”

  “Old punk-ass nigga wanna foul everybody but think can’t nobody touch him! You ain’t gold, nigga!”

  “It’s obvious you going through some things right now, so I ain’t even trying to go there with you,” Chino told him. “But I ain’t gonna be no more punks.”

  “Man, let’s bounce,” Ant told Joe Bub Baby.

  Joe Bub pushed Ant’s hand away. “Naw, this nigga thinks he’s God or somebody! Like everybody’s suppose to bar him or something. Don’t nobody bar your status, nigga! Hell, getting over on muthafuckas and shit!”