It Was All A Dream et-1

by Kelvin F. Jackson

  They calmed down a little; not much but enough for K to say,“Dad this is the love of my life, Liza. Liza this is my poppa.”

  “Mr. Johnson I am so happy to finally meet you.”

  “Please call me Joe, that Mr. Johnson stuff makes me feel old.”

  “Ok Joe, nice to meet you. You have a beautiful home,” said Liza.

  “Thank you. And my home is your home. Damn, my son you sure can pick em,” said K’s pops.

  His sister came out of her room next to the basement, gave him a hug and he made introductions while his pops made drinks. Pops had already been cooking the food for the New Year’s celebration and the aromas floating through the house had caught Liza’s attention.

  “Somebody is hookin it up, that food smells delicious,” said Liza.

  “Baby you have no idea. If you think that chicken parmesan was good, you just wait til my pops cooking hits those taste buds,” K said.

  She gave him a mean but playful look that broke into a shameful smile at their own personal little joke. She still denied the way she massacred that chicken parmesan that first night, but from being with her over the past couple of months, he’d found out that her appetite increased a little when alcohol was involved. But he still used to tell her “ You smashed that chicken ma — ma!”

  “I got ham, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, cornbread, sweet potato pies, fried fish, lasagna, black eye peas, and yams,” Said K’s pop’s.

  K looked at Liza and the drink in her hand that she was sipping on and smiled at her. From out of nowhere K’s nephew appeared with the notoriously embarrassing old family photo album. Before K could grab it from him Liza had it and was flipping through the pages. He already knew what was coming and there was no way Kevin could stop it. She got to the picture of his first birthday party, where he made it to the cake, before the cake made it to the oven and K was sitting on the table with his big afro and a bowl of cake mix between his legs. His mother caught the moment as he was smiling ear to ear, cake mix all over his nose, mouth, and hands.

  “Oooooh, you were so cute,” Liza said laughing until she had tears in her eyes. K slid down on the couch and covered his head with one of the big pillows in embarrassment.

  “Yes my baby was cute and he still is,” K heard his mother say from the basement doorway. His Pops dogs had obviously felt the wrath of moms because they didn’t make a sound.

  “Ma!” K said as he quickly hopped up to get him a mom’s hug.

  He introduced her and Liza and they hit it off from the beginning. Not long after, a few of his sister’s girlfriends came over to hang out and girl talk for a while. K asked Liza if she felt comfortable enough to hang out at the house while he went through the hood to go holla at his boys. She said she felt more than comfortable and of course she didn’t mind. She knew he hadn’t kicked it with his boys since he left town, So K gave her a kiss, hopped in the truck and went to go check his niggahs.

  His first stop was the candy store/weed spot/gambling spot. It was on the corner of a row of stores on the main drag and had pool tables, clear canisters filled with various candies on the counter that you had to buy at least a dollars’ worth, along with however many dime bags of weed you wanted. There was also a big dice shooting table in the back where you could always place a bet and try your luck. Because it was the holidays, the spot was packed with locals and other hustlers returning to the hood from out of town. As soon as he walked in he got crazy love because his peoples hadn’t seen him in a while.

  The parking lot and curbside was lined with Benzes, Beemer’s, Lexus’s, and Jeeps. Old school cats and new school cats were kicking it and bottles of liquor were in heavy rotation.

  A few of his boys asked, “When you gone bring us with you to get some of that PA money?”

  K looked at his man’s Tommy and Irvin leaning on T’s Lex and said “shit, it looks like yall niggahs is doing pretty good right here.”

  It was all love through. They liked to fuck with him about shit like that. He dropped a couple of hundred dollar bets on the Cee lo table, and on the way out, the house man said,” hey where you going wit all that coke and music money after a couple little hundred dollar bets?”

  “I got places to go, people to see and hot spots to get out of,” he said joking, but was dead serious. “I just came through to show my face in the hood. I got plans on doing some big things if shit keep going smooth and I want my niggahs to be a part of it. “

  K slapped everybody five with a half hug showing love and rolled out. When he stepped outside the spot he bumped into his niggahs Pook and Blass.

  Blass said “Yo K-MO, what up nigga, what you doing back in the hood? You must be up here for the holidays.”

  “Yeah, no doubt. What ya’ll niggas up to?” K asked.

  “You know we out here grinding, we both got mouths to feed,” Pook said. “Hold up K, let me catch this dough real quick.”

  Just then one of the regulars K had known for years because she had been one of his old customer’s, came walking up. Her face lit up with a big crackhead smile and you could tell she had been a beautiful black woman at one time. She had a daughter that was even more proof of that.

  “Hey big man, where you been? You always got it good. You workin?” she asked him.

  “Nah, I’m just passing through. But my man got you.”

  “Come here Goobie! How much you got? “said Pook.

  “I got $50, but I want a slab,” she said.

  “We got you. Give me the money and grab that piece out of the change slot in the payphone.”

  She did as she was told and as she was walking off she said “I’ll be back in about half hour. I got this trick at the motel and he got a pocketful. This is just to get him started.”

  “Hold up!” Pook said, and scribbled down the number to the payphone.

  “Call this number and if he’s spending more than a hundred we will bring it to you.”

  “Aight, aight,” she said and scurried away eyes bulging, and ashy lips twisting. After she was gone Pook said, “K man, we tryin to get up outta the hood. Niggahs is catchin sales left and right.”

  “I know, I heard this shit was on flames. But you know I’m still in the process of laying the foundation?”

  Right after he said that the police pulled into the parking lot across the street. It was cruiser number 105, better known as the marine cops. K knew them harassing bastards and they knew him, so he knew it was time to get gone. K gave all his boys contact numbers and told them to get at him before he left town. The police turned on their overhead floodlights and lit up the entire side of the street everybody was standing on. K gave his niggas some dap and was out.

  As he pulled away from the curbside he reflected on the experience his life had been up to that point and thanked God that he had made it this far. He’d lost a lot of cats, real good dudes, to this crazy game. Crimedanch had lost some thorough hustlers like Herman The Stranger and Keith Money Green, thugs like Tim Williams and Taheem, and up and comers Karim, Ed Nitty, Allen Parker and Ira aka Young Iroc.

  Just as he turned the corner onto his block, he saw the red, white, and blue strobe lights illuminate in his rearview mirror. He knew he hadn’t done anything illegal, signaling or otherwise, but he was in a brand new truck in the hood. So it was business as usual for Suffolk County’s finest, with the same old bullshit! The officer driving approached the vehicle’s driver’s side with his hand on his Beretta 9mm, as the other officer did the same on the passenger side shining his flashlight through the back window of the Tahoe.

  Shit, he knew the routine so he turned off the truck with his left hand while his right hand was in the air where they could see it, extended his left hand out of the window so they could see them both. Now in the hood they don’t ask for the usual License, registration and insurance. It just didn’t go down like that. And it doesn’t matter if it’s the uniformed cops, or the undercover, they address you the same.

  “Step out of the vehicle wit
h your hands in the air where we can see them.”

  So on cue, K followed the usual procedure, and once they saw who it was the whole scene changed.

  “Look who we got here, Mr. K-Money. So Mr. Johnson, where have you been? We heard you took your drug dealing business elsewhere. Smart decision,” said one officer.

  “I live in Pennsylvania and own a record company now. Why are busting my balls officer? “They checked out the truck while eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Oh we not busting your balls, we just wanted to see who was driving this pretty truck with the PA tags. So you have any guns or drugs on you Mr. Johnson? Do you mind if we search your vehicle?”

  “Do you have probable cause?” K asked.

  The main asshole of the two gave him a look that he knew all too well. It was a look where no words were needed, that blatantly said you know how we get down. They always keep a couple of rocks for guys who wanted act up.

  “Now we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way,” said one of the officers.

  K recognized the look because he knew these two very, very well. They were just as crooked as the pigs they’d bodied before he bounced.

  “Ok, ok. Do what you got to do. Just remember I aint never gave you guys a hard time.”

  They proceeded to search the vehicle and he stood there nervous as fuck. Halfway through the search they got a 911 call over the radio.

  ”All units respond. There’s been a shooting on north 15th Street and two people are down,” said the dispatcher.

  They stopped in the middle of their search and ran to the cruiser. But before getting in the driver yelled over his door.

  “Watch yourself and where you hangout Mr. Johnson.” The officer slammed his door shut, and brutally jerked the transmission into reverse. Burning rubber, he backed out onto Jamaica Avenue and sped away to answer their call.

  K got in his truck and drove up two stop signs to his family crib and his niggah Ike Mitchell was there standing in the driveway laughing.

  “What up my nigga? What’s so funny? “K asked.

  “My bad niggah, I aint laughing at you. I was riding by when them crooked ass faggots had you pulled over, So I dipped to the phone booth and put in that bogus 911 call to the switchboard. I saw it was you from the spotlights they had on you and I saw the Pa. tags.”

  “Oh shit! That’s good looking, aint no telling what them hating ass police would have tried to pull. Why don’t you come in? Pops is cooking.”

  “I gotta go pick — up wifey from work then we going to spend New Year’s with her peoples. How long you in town?

  “Two or three days at the most. Take my cell number and hit me when you get back in town. Maybe we could hook up and do something.”

  He took K’s number gave him a pound, then bounced. K entered the house to the welcome familiar smells of home cooked Alabama soul food compliments of chef pop dooks. Liza was at the kitchen table with his sister and her friends playing cards, talking and smiling ear to ear.

  “K, I love your family. Your mom wants to know how long we’re going to be in town” said Liza.

  “I’m not sure but I’ll make sure we stay long enough for you two to get acquainted well enough.”

  K asked Liza to take a ride with him and told his family they would be back shortly. K had grabbed a couple of sacs when he was at the weed spot, and due to the shit he had just went through with the police, he needed a little smoke session to relax his nerves. They got in the truck and headed to a store that was nowhere near the hood. K pulled up to the 7 eleven went in and brought a box of dutchmasters. When they returned to the house K twisted up a log, sparked it and let the mean green mellow out his mental.

  CHAPTER 19

  Jamaica Avenue in Jamaica Queens was packed even though it was a blistering cold New Year’s Day. K and Liza had set out in the afternoon, hours after sleeping off the effects of the New Year’s celebration with friends and family. He had made a stop to pick up his son so he could take him to hang out with them and take him shopping.

  They had brought in the New Year at 12 o’clock, watching the ball drop on the big screen in the basement at the house and couldn’t have been happier than to be with his family and Liza on New Year’s. They were now headed to The Coliseum, a mini-mall loaded with all kinds of urban wear, from hats, to sneakers, to coats, to the iciest of the iced out jewelry. K had a personal jeweler named Benny in the coliseum that he had been buying custom made jewels from for years. A month prior to coming to NY K had phoned in a special order for late surprise Christmas gifts for Liza and his son JJ. They’d pulled in and parked in the rooftop parking lot that was exclusively for coliseum shoppers.

  Upon entering the building he came across one of his cousins that he hadn’t seen in a minute. K’s family Bazzo had opened a club that had become very successful, among Long Islands night clubbers, out in Hempstead.

  “When did you get in town?”

  “I got here yesterday afternoon. I’m at pops crib for New Year’s. I heard you got the club scene on lock.”

  “Yeah a little something. I got a big New Year’s Day party jumping off tonight. Why don’t you swing through and I’ll put you on the V.I.P. guest list. We can ball out like old times. Show these niggahs how it’s done.

  “No doubt, me and my lady will be there.”

  See, K and Bazzo went way back. In the hood hustling, there was always competition. Like who got the newest Jordan’s first, who had the flyest outfit on, the hottest gold chain or the nicest car. And K and his boy Bazzo were always at it.

  K gave him dap and a half hug, told him he’d see him later and went into the coliseum. K got the usual from the sistahs, which he always had madd love for, but the ones he had tried to get at, wasn’t trying to show a big niggah no love. And he had never been the kind of dude to settle for less than the best. So when he heard chicks and their little slick sideways remarks and indirect references to his choice of nationality in his relationship, he put his arm around his lady to let them know how happy he was with his. But still they heard, dam every nigga wanna hear that ‘ooh poppi poppi shit since J — Lo and a nigga don’t want fried chicken and collard greens no more when he eatin all them rice and beans. It was kind of fucked up though because it was like he couldn’t win. When a big bald nigga had been trying to get at a lil redbone cutey or a sexy chocolate sistah, they acted like he had Whoppers and Big macs around his neck instead of 5g’s worth of jewelry and good conversation, while they were chasing those pretty boys. Nevertheless he still had nothing but love for his Queens.

  They went to holla at Benny, and Liza thought that maybe k was looking for something for himself.

  “K, what’s up? How is the music business? I thought that you would be here yesterday,” said Benny from behind the counter in accented English.

  “Yeah I know, but I hadn’t seen the family in a while so I hung out with my folks yesterday. So you got that special order I called in last month?”

  He pulled out a large manila envelope that jingled as he set it on the counter.

  “K you doubt me? Have I ever let you down? “said Benny.

  “Nah Benzo you been real good to a nigga.”

  He took out each piece of jewelry one at a time and handed them to K, for inspection. One was a Rolex 14 K gold chain that said Liza, and stood 2 inches tall, flooded with 7 carats of diamonds and a pair of four carat diamond cluster earrings that K helped Liza put on. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “Thank You! Thank you, this is beautiful!”

  The other items in the envelope were a Cuban link chain with a diamond JJ and a matching bracelet with an identical JJ in diamonds. K put those on his son.

  K talked to Benny for a minute and he told him about a new line of watches he had coming out. K put two on order. After they ate pizza in the food court K asked if they wanted to go to the movies on 125th Street in Harlem.

  “Yeah Daddy!” they both responded at the same time. So the
y finished up with a little more shopping and hit the exit.

  After they left the movie theater they all returned to his family’s house because JJ wanted to see his grandma. The sun had begun to set, and it cast an orange glow on the house that he had seen too many times to count. For some reason this day it had a strange effect, resulting in a reflection with pride.

  K’s hardworking parents came from the south to N.Y. with a dream a quarter century before and made a decent living and a comfortable home for him and his baby sister. Looking at the new house now and the cars and recognizing the accomplishment made him real proud.

  K and Liza figured they’d throw on their best and step up in the club representing each other to the fullest. As they pulled up in to the valet parking and exited the vehicle all heads turned. Liza stepped out in a black and red figure hugging Dolce and Gabbana two piece outfit with matching Chanel boots and bag. Her neck and earlobes sparkled with clear blinding diamonds. K stepped out in a two piece black Armani suit, black silk shirt, red silk tie with matching handkerchief in the suit pocket, and a black derby with a red feather in the brim. To top it off he finished the ensemble with some crispy new black and red Stacey Adams snake skin boots.

  Under his suit, over his shoulder, and in the holster was a Glock 19 that he usually kept at his pops crib for occasions such as this. Best believe a niggah won’t get caught slipping. Bazzo was just pulling up as they were about to enter the club, so they all slid up in the spot together. The spot was poppin with hustlers and honeys wall to wall! K spotted a few chicks that he’d tried to get at that wouldn’t give a nigga no airtime and they was trying to front like they use to have something after seeing him with Liza. One chic was like dam K, you just leave town and don’t even call a bitch no more.

  So of course he had to keep it gutter with the chick by responding appropriately.

  “It was kinda hard to keep up with you. I could never catch you at that phone at the laundry mat. The Chinese lady said ‘oh no no, no Leslie a here, “with a smile. Then he turned and kissed a confused Liza. K turned back to the chick and asked,“can you hear me now…good,” and they slipped off to the VIP, into which the chick and her crew had no access.