Damn, this shits look like a fuckin airplane, Pop thought as he looked at all the buttons and lights.
“I appreciate what you doing for me,” Pop said, thankful for the $500 dollars he just received.
“Don’t worry about it, shorty, Fresh said as he made the engine come to life and stepped on the gas.
Pop’s eyes lit up when he saw Fresh pull up into the IHOP parking lot.
“You hungry, little homie?” Fresh asked, already knowing the answer.
“A little bit,” Pop lied, trying to save face but deep down inside he was starving and literally would eat a horse.
The slim waitress escorted the two men to a booth in the back of the diner.
“How would you like to work for me?” Fresh asked, sipping on his water and getting straight to the chase.
“Work for you how? What would I have to do?” Pop questioned defensively.
“Listen, B. I know about your situation, and I’m just here to help,” Fresh told him.
“How you going to help?”
“I’m going to help by putting some money in your fuckin’ pocket, Fresh answered quickly.
“Why me? I’m pretty sure you got hundreds of people to choose from, people who would love to prove something to you.”
“Because I see something in you that you don’t even see in yourself,” Fresh responded.
“And what’s that?” Pop asked curiously.
“That’s my little secret,” Fresh laughed as the slim waitress brought them their food.
“So what does this job consist of?” Pop asked as he cut off a piece of his waffle and gobbled it up.
“I need you to be an enforcer for me,” Fresh said bluntly to see where Pop’s head was at. He had seen Pop go for broke so he knew that he had the heart.
“You mean a goonie,” Pop corrected him.
“If that’s what you want to call it. You won’t be doing shit you haven’t been doing already. You might have to beat a few people up, stab a few cats, hang ’em out the window—you know, regular shit,” Fresh said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “Can you handle that?”
“Of course I can,” Pop answered, happy to finally be on the winning team.
“If I’m going to be a goon, believe I’m going to be the best goon that ever lived,” he said, accepting Fresh’s proposition.
“This is the beginning to a great friendship,” Fresh said as the two men’s glasses clinked together. “If you be loyal to me, I will always be loyal to you,” he said as he slowly sipped from his glass. “I love your heart.”
“I’m just doing what I gotta do, it’s never personal,” Pop stated honestly.
“You ever heard of a guy named Bamboo?”
“I’ve heard the name but I don’t know him, he could walk past me right now and I wouldn’t even know that was him,” Pop answered.
“Well, real soon I’m going to be shutting that cocksucker down, but I know it’s not going to be easy. That’s why if you down you gon’ have to be down for whatever, you dig?” Fresh said, trying to read Pop’s facial expression.
“I can dig it,” Pop replied. “I take it you two don’t get along.”
“Well, as of right now he’s the connect.” Fresh began. “But he’s a grimy-ass old nigga. Plus he not playing the game how it’s supposed to be played, and we can’t have that and since nobody else wants to take care of this problem, I figured why not step up to the plate,” Fresh said with a smile.
“Fuck it,” Pop said. “I don’t see why not.”
“They say if you want shit done the right way, then you gotta do it yourself,” Fresh said nonchalantly.
Fresh sat back quietly and watched Pop attack his food. From the looks of things he could tell that the young man had not eaten anything all day, maybe even two. He had no remorse about putting Pop on his team. He was already a product of the hood. At least now he would be getting paid.
Before Pop went upstairs, he went to the Chinese restaurant to get his brothers and sister something to eat since he had a pocketful of money.
“Yo, bitch, hurry the fuck up with my order,” some ghetto chick with blond streaks in her nicely-done weave yelled at the Chinese lady behind the counter. Pop chuckled to himself. It was just another day in the life for him. He lived in a jungle where even the females were cold and callous, but now he looked at his environment in an entirely new perspective. Working for Fresh was about to change his life. He wouldn’t be down for long.
“Yo, let me get three orders of chicken wings and pork-fried rice,” Pop ordered as he took a seat at the small table.
Pop couldn’t believe the opportunity Fresh was giving him—not only did he get to beat people up, but he was now going to get paid for it. Things could not have been better for him.
“Yo ,bitch, you need to hurry up, I don’t got all mu’fuckin day, I have to be going in a minute,” blond hair barked.
This bitch is wilding out, Pop said to himself as he continued to watch the show the ghetto woman put on.
“What the fuck is taking so long?” blonde asked, walking up to the counter.
“Your order will be ready in one minute,” the Chinese lady said, trying to calm the ghetto woman down.
“Bitch, you said that shit twenty minutes ago—stop playing with me!” blonde hair said, ready to spaz out.
“Yo, ma, chill out before them Chinese mu’fuckas spit in your shit,” Pop said, trying to defuse the situation.
“Spit in who shit?” blond hair asked, snaking her neck. “Please, I’ll slap everybody back there,” she said, pointing behind the counter.
“Here you go, ma’am” the Chinese lady said in a frail voice.
“It’s about mu’fuckin’time, blond hair snarled as she snatched the bag out of the hands of the Chinese lady.
“I can’t stand you mu’fuckas. Give me some more duck sauce too,” she barked.
“Be cool shorty, and don’t hurt nobody, Pop said, looking at the nice sized-ass on the ghetto light-skinned girl.
“I’ma try not to,” she shot back with a smile as she walked out the Chinese restaurant.
“I might have to get up on that,” Pop said, imagining him and Blondie going at it in a hotel room as he watched her walk off, switching her ass from side to side.
“Sir, your order is ready,” the Chinese lady said, snapping him out of his daydream.
When Pop got home his brothers and sister were happy that he brought them something to eat.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Teresa said, walking in the living room. “Where the fuck did you get money from?”
“Don’t worry about it, just eat,” Pop said sourly as he plopped down on the couch.
“Boy, when I ask you a straight question, you better give me a straight mu’fuckin’answer, Teresa shot back, standing in front of the TV, intentionally trying to make him mad.
“I found twenty dollars outside lying on the ground, so I picked it up and brought us some Chinese food,” he said in an uninterested tone.
“You don’t got no change?” Teresa asked, rolling her eyes.
“No, I don’t got no change, and why does the whole house smell like shit?” Pop asked.
“Because the garbage is right there waiting for you to take it to the incinerator.”
Instead of arguing, Pop emptied the garbage, went to his room, and went to sleep. Sleep was one way he always escaped from the shit hole he was living in. He would always have the same dream every night: He would always dream he was out of his mother’s house, only to wake up to be disappointed and to face another fucked-up day.
The next morning Pop woke up to the sound of somebody beating up his mother. He quickly got up to investigate, but when he reached his mother’s room her door was locked.
“Oh, well,” he said coldheartedly as he got dressed and headed outside. He knew better than to get involved in his mother’s drama. The last time he got involved, he ended up with a black eye and a swollen lip, all because Teresa
stole some goods from one of her customers. This time Teresa would just have to hold it down by herself.
Pop ignored all the screams and cries for help as he exited the apartment without a care in the world.
When Pop made it outside, he saw Rusty waving him over.
“Youngin’, you on the payroll now, yeah?” Rusty asked, revealing a mouthful of gold teeth.
“Yeah, Fresh put me on last night, he told me to report to you,” Pop answered.
“A’ight, good, ’cause we got a little situation that needs to be taken care of. Looks like you going to be getting your feet wet quicker than expected,” Rusty said trying to read Pop’s facial expression.
“Some new niggas call themselves opening up on one of Fresh’s corners. I’m going to need you and Pooh Bear to go over there and baseball bat them niggas down. Is that cool?”
“No, that won’t be a problem,” Pop answered. He and Pooh Bear went and hopped in a Ford Explorer with tinted windows.
“Some fools just don’t learn,” Pooh said nonchalantly. “I mean, I know these niggas knew they was opening up on someone else block.”
Pop just sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. He was in some deep shit and he knew it. This wasn’t like robbing a Chinese delivery lady, this was a whole new ballgame, and he was dead in the middle of it.
“This a crazy way to make a living,” Pop said, feeling the butterflies forming inside his stomach, but what other choices did he have? It was either do this or petty robberies. Instead of talking, he just sat back, visualizing how he was going to spend his money. First thing he planned on doing was getting up out of his mom’s house. Once he accomplished that he planned on buying himself a car and saving the rest. But little did he know in this game things are much easier said than done.
Chapter Four
“It’s about time you made some time for me,” Amanda said as she sat in the Jacuzzi wiggling her toes.
“I told you I was going to make some time for you this week,” Fresh said as the two relaxed in his condo out in Parkchester.
“Baby, come give me a massage,” Amanda said, setting her glass of Grey Goose on the side of the tub.
“Chill, why you always trying to make me work?” he asked playfully.
“Por favor papi,” Amanda begged in her Spanish accent, knowing when she spoke in Spanish Fresh would do anything she asked.
Five minutes into the massage Fresh heard his sidekick ringing.
“Who the fuck is this?” Fresh said out loud, flipping open his sidekick, noticing he had a new text message from Vanessa.
Baby, I miss you, I’m just sending you this message ’cause you were on my mind holla back
After he read the message, Fresh closed his sidekick and continued to massage Amanda’s shoulders.
“Who was that?” she asked suspiciously.
“Business,” he replied defensively.
“It better be,” she warned. “Pendejo.” Amanda called him an asshole in Spanish because she knew that he couldn’t understand her. It wasn’t hard for him to get her back in the mood. He fondled her breasts and stuck his tongue down her throat and their antics resumed. He made her feel so good that she forgot they were ever interrupted.
While Fresh was kissing Amanda, he slipped his hand down in the water and began playing with her pussy.
“Mmm...” Amanda moaned softly as she bit on the bottom of Fresh’s lip. She loved when he played with her pussy; something about that always just turned her on.
“I want to taste my pussy,” Fresh whispered as he guided Amanda out of the water. He made her sit on the rim of the Jacuzzi with her legs spread apart. She watched as Fresh slowly slid down between her legs.
As soon as he was faced with her pussy, he quickly took both of her feet out of the water and placed them on his shoulders. Fresh knew he had been fuckin’ up with Amanda lately and planned on doing whatever he had to do to get back in good. First he planted soft kisses all over her pussy and clit, then he let his tongue pick up where his kisses left off.
“Ah, papi,” Amanda moaned as her body squirmed in pleasure. Seconds later, she wrapped her legs around the back of Fresh’s neck as she began grinding her pussy on his tongue and face.
From the way Amanda moved and squirmed Fresh knew he was hitting her spot. He continued to lick her pussy, pretending his tongue belonged to a lizard.
Once Amanda came, she fought to get Fresh’s face from between her legs. Her pussy was sensitive and she couldn’t take it no more.
“Okay, okay, okay,” she laughed as she finally removed his face from her pussy.
“What’s the problem?” Fresh asked with a smile on his face as he stood up dripping wet.
“I thought you were a professional.” He laughed purposely, standing directly in front of her so his hard dick was only inches away from her face.
“Oh, you talking shit, papi?” Amanda asked in her heavy accent as she grabbed Fresh’s dick and began jerking it while she questioned him.
“What you want me to do to this dick? You want me to suck it?”
“Yeah, I want you to suck it,” Fresh replied as if he was about to die.
“You want me to suck it like this?” Amanda asked as she took the whole thing into her mouth and held it there for seven seconds before releasing it, only to put the head back in her mouth while she roughly stroked his shaft with both of her hands.
“Damn,” Fresh moaned as he grabbed a handful of Amanda’s hair and began guiding her head with his hand. The way she was pulling and sucking on his dick, it took him no time to cum in her mouth.
“Oh my God, baby, you are the best,” Fresh exclaimed as him and Amanda slid back into the Jacuzzi and just got their chill on.
“This is the easiest job in the world, all we have to do is baseball some clown down and get paid,” Pooh Bear said, trying to keep his eyes on the road.
“How long you been working for Fresh?” Pop asked, trying to make conversation.
“About a year and a half now,” Pooh answered, searching his memory.
“So what happens if we go to bat these clowns down and they strapped?”
“I never leave the house without my ratchet,” Pooh answered, lifting up his shirt to reveal the handle of his .380. “You never know what might jump off, nah mean?”
“Yeah, I hear you,” Pop answered, staring blankly out the window and suddenly feeling like the baseball bat in his hand wasn’t enough.
When Pooh Bear pulled up on the block, two young kids had the block popping. The two youngsters hustled out in the open like what they were doing wasn’t a crime.
“Yo, I’m going to keep these mu’fuckas still while you bat them clowns down,” Pooh said as he pulled up directly in front of the kids.
“Don’t y’all even think about moving”, Pooh growled, aiming his .380 at the two kids.
“Yo, what’s this all about?” one of the kids asked in a light whisper.
“Shut the fuck up,” Pop spat as he swung the bat at the young kid’s legs, dropping him instantly.
Once the kid hit the ground, Pop batted him down until he finally passed out. When he finished with the kid Pop quickly moved on to the next kid as a big crowd started to form.
“Chill, son, chill,” the kid begged, but it did him no good. Pop swung the bat like he was Barry Bonds.
“A’ight, that’s enough” Pooh said as he kneeled down and grabbed the kid by his shirt.
“This block belongs to Fresh, you understand?”
“Yes,” the kid whispered through a pair of bloody lips and a bloody nose.
“If we have to come back again somebody is going to get killed,” Pooh said in a icy tone as he punched the kid in the face one last time for good measure.
“You see, that wasn’t so bad,” Pooh chuckled as the two men hopped back in the truck and headed back to the projects.
“Before we go back to the hood, take me to Jimmy Jazz so I can pick up a few pieces,” Pop said, pointing at
his clothes.
“Yeah, you definitely need to do that. I wasn’t going to say nothing but you look like a fuckin’ bum,” Pooh joked as he headed to 125th Street.
When Pop finally made it back to the projects, he headed straight upstairs so he could change his clothes.
“Yo, nobody better touch my shit, and I ain’t playing,” Pop warned, looking at his brothers and sister. He’d worked too hard for one of them trying to sneak and wear his shit.
Ten minutes later, Pop stepped out the building looking like a new man. He let his Red Monkey jeans sag on his Tims. Up top he wore a white T, with a Yankees fitted hat that covered his eyebrows.
When Pop stepped back outside, he noticed that he was walking different; his whole swagger had changed. He didn’t know it, but having a pocketful of money boosted his ego.
“Okay, I see you looking like new money,” Pooh said playfully.
“Come on, you know I had to step my game up, shit you was making me look bad, my nigga!” Pop said, giving Pooh a pound.
“I can dig it, but yo, we just have to look after these workers, make sure everything goes smoothly, look out for stickup kids, niggas trying to steal, and shit like that.”
“This job is mad easy,” Pop said.
“Nah, you just had an easy first day,” Pooh assured him.
As the two men sat talking they noticed a dirty crackhead walk up.
“What up, Pooh? You think you can look out for me today?” the dirty bum asked.
“Lucky, I just hooked you up two days ago,” Pooh reminded him.
“As much money as I bring in, I know you can toss me something,” Lucky said, trying to give Pooh a pound.
Pooh looked at the dirty man’s hand like it was infected with HIV “Nigga, didn’t I just hook you up the other day? Damn, nigga, if you can’t support your habit then you should get a new one or just quit,” he told the crackhead.
“Come on, Pooh,” Lucky begged. “You know my money is always straight, plus, my white friend is coming through later on with a pocketful of money, and you know I’m going to bring him here to spend with your peoples.” As Lucky talked he scratched the nasty rash that was on his neck spreading down to his back.
Knee Deep in the Game Page 3