Knee Deep in the Game

by Boston George

  “What’s wrong? You seem so stressed-out.” Amanda questioned as she gave Fresh an oil massage.

  “I want you to move in here with me. I don’t want you in those projects no more,” he said.

  “Why, is something wrong?” Amanda asked curiously.

  “Nah, I just don’t want you up in there no more,” Fresh lied. “You know how you just get a funny feeling in your gut sometimes.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean, boo, plus who would want their beautiful wife up in the PJ’s all day?” Amanda said playfully.

  Fresh knew soon he and Bamboo would more than likely end up going to war. And he didn’t want Amanda getting caught up in no bullshit, and he definitely didn’t want anybody trying to kidnap her, so to play it safe he just wanted Amanda out of harm’s way.

  “I think it is time we moved in together anyway,” he told her.

  “What about Melissa?” Amanda asked.

  “Let her keep the place for herself, or she could move in with us if she want,” Fresh said, taking a sip from his bottle of water. “Plus, I’m pretty sure your sister could use the privacy.”

  “Damn, I got a lot of shit that needs to be moved,” she said, thinking about all of her valuable belongings.

  “Let me worry about that, you just worry about passing your road test next week,” Fresh joked. “How you twenty-three years old and still don’t know how to drive?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to pass that test with flying colors, shit as bad as I want to drive I’m going to pass that test,” Amanda said confidently as she watched Fresh take off his pants and head for the shower.

  “Damn, I love that man,” Amanda said to herself as she watched her man head for the shower.

  When Fresh got out of the shower, he hopped on the bed and turned his TV to SportsCenter. As soon as he got ready to relax he heard his cell phone ringing.

  “I know that nigga Fresh had something to do with this shit,” Bamboo stated as he paced his living room back and forth.

  “So how do you want to handle this, boss?” King asked, ready to put in some work.

  “I’m not sure yet, first I have to see if it was him or not. Pass me my phone real quick,” Bamboo said as he dialed Fresh’s number.

  “What’s good? This Bamboo,” he said in a calm manner.

  “I know who this is,” Fresh responded with ice in his tone.

  “Yo, somebody murdered one of my mu’fuckin’ workers and took my stash last night. I was wondering if you heard anything about that since I know you keep your ear to the streets?” Bamboo asked.

  “Nah, B. I ain’t heard shit,” Fresh replied shortly.

  “I don’t know who could have done this, ain’t nobody stupid enough to fuck with my shit, it must have been somebody who is not from around here,” Bamboo said, trying to feel Fresh out.

  “Yeah, probably,” Fresh said as he yawned into the receiver.

  “If you hear anything about this you make sure you let me know as soon as possible,” Bamboo said in a threatening manner.

  “I got you,” Fresh said, hanging up in Bamboo’s ear.

  Bamboo looked at the receiver and his nostrils flared from the disrespect he had just been dealt. Sometimes it wasn’t what a nigga did say, but what he didn’t that determined his guilt and Bamboo was no fool.

  “Yeah, it was Fresh and his peoples, I can tell by the way that clown was talking on the phone, mad nonchalant,” Bamboo said, pouring himself a drink.

  “It’s time to put this fuckin’ new jack in his place, yo call up my hit squad, I’m going to make an example out of that nigga that the streets won’t soon forget.”

  Without hesitation King did as he was told.

  “Nigga, it ain’t no money like dope money,” Pooh Bear said, counting his money outside on the bench, putting on a show for whoever was willing to watch.

  “Yo, put that fuckin’ money away, you don’t know if we being watched or not,” Pop said seriously.

  “Nigga, pull your skirt down and have a little fun, I ain’t doing nothing but enjoying life, you dig? You know tomorrow ain’t promised,” he reminded Pop.

  Before Pop could respond he saw Lucky coming his way, drinking vitamin water.

  “Nigga, why the fuck are you drinking a vitamin water?” Pop asked with a confused look on his face.

  “Because it’s good for my health,” Lucky responded, flashing his rotten-toothed smile.

  “Nigga, what the fuck is a vitamin water going to do for your health while you smoking crack, stupid?” Pop said as he bursted out laughing.

  “Brother, I need all the vitamins I can get,” Lucky chuckled as he walked off to go get his early-morning wake-up.

  “Yo, that fool is crazy,” Pop said as he noticed two uniform cops coming in his direction. “Yo, hold that down five-o coming.”

  Pooh quickly tossed his pocketknife and the little bit of weed in the grass before the officers walked up.

  “Do you guys live in this building?” the white officer asked sourly.

  “Yeah, why?” Pooh shot back. “What’s the problem?”

  “We got a complaint that two young guys were making a lot of noise in front of this building,” the officer said, nervously placing his hand on his gun.

  “Yo, the only reason why you fuckin’ with us ’cause we black,” Pop said disrespectfully, waving off the two cops. “Fuck outta here.”

  “Oh, we got a tough guy in the house, get up against the fuckin wall, tough guy,” the officer said, violently shoving the two suspects against the wall.

  As the officers began to search the two men they noticed a large crowd started to form.

  “Yo, that shit ain’t right,” shouted a black guy from in the crowd wearing a du-rag.

  “Why don’t y’all go to the white neighborhoods and do that shit,” another young lady shouted.

  “Y’all mu’fuckas lucky a crowd showed up,” the white officer whispered in Pop’s ear before him and his partner walked off with an attitude.

  “Have a nice day, officers,” Pooh yelled loud enough so the two officers could hear him. “Dickheads.”

  “I can’t stand those dicks,” Pop said, cracking open his Dutch Master, tossing the guts on the ground once the cops were out of eyesight.

  “That’s why I stay high, B. Them clowns just fucked up my whole day,” Pop stated as he proceeded to roll up his blunt.

  “Yo, come with me to building five real quick, I have to go check up on this clown that owe me some bread,” Pooh said as he retrieved his weed and pocketknife from out the grass, then headed to the next building.

  Before they could make it to the building, Pooh saw his victim walking out the building.

  “Yo, Mike what’s good you—got that money for me?” he asked way louder than he had to.

  “I got you next week, I didn’t get my check this week,” Mike said, looking down at the ground, mad that he had bumped into the last person he wanted to see.

  “Just like last week, right?” Pooh said, digging in his back pocket.

  “Yo, Pooh, I promise I’m going to give you your money next week, you got my word,” Mike said, looking at Pop giving him a private look that said Please help me.

  Pop quickly broke eye contact with his former friend. He felt bad for Mike, but business is business, and this was all in a day’s work.

  “I know,” Pooh said, flicking open the blade on his pocketknife.

  Without hesitation he plunged the knife in and out of Mike’s stomach three times, splattering blood all over the concrete.

  “Have that for me next week B. Last time I’m going to tell you,” Pooh said as he cleaned his knife off on Mike’s shirt before he walked off.

  Before Pop walked off he kicked Mike in the side of his face for good measure. “Punk mu’fucka.”

  “Y’all make the community look bad,” an old lady said, shaking her head from a second-floor window. “Why don’t y’all try doing something positive in the community instead of just tryin
g to destroy and tear down the community.”

  “Shut up, old lady, before you be next,” Pop growled, staring down the old lady. “Yo, I have to get out the hood tonight before I kill somebody,” Pop said, taking a long drag from his blunt.

  “We can go to the club tonight if you want,” Pooh suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s cool. I think I need to be surrounded by some beautiful women tonight, know what I mean?”

  “A’ight, bet, we going to hit up Club Spirit downtown. Fresh be in there every Friday, plus I heard it be jumping in there,” Pooh said, doing his two-step.

  “A’ight, I’m going home so I can go change I’ma meet you back here at eleven,” Pop said as he headed home.

  Fresh sat in his abandoned warehouse along with Rusty, counting piles of money.

  “Yo, be on point tonight, just in case this clown Bamboo tries to make a move, smell me?” Fresh placed a rubber band over the neatly stacked money.

  “You know I’m on it, I hope that nigga do make a move because I been dying to pop that nigga,” Rusty joked, placing a rubber band on a stack of money.

  “Yeah, I got a meeting with this Spanish cat next week, my man plugged me in, said this cat got the best coke on Broadway, so I’m going to go see what he working with, if he got that butter then that’s going to be our new connect,” Fresh said, sipping on his yak.

  “A’ight, bet, that’s what up.”

  “I hope Spirit be popping tonight,” Fresh said.

  “You know it’s popping every Friday,” Rusty countered.

  “Make sure you tell all the goons to strap up and be on standby just in case some shit jump off,” Fresh ordered.

  “I got you,” Rusty said, placing all the money in two duffel bags.

  “I can’t wait until I hook this warehouse up,” Fresh said, looking around. “In two weeks this place is going to look like new money, watch,” Fresh said, looking at his vibrating Nextel.

  “What’s good, baby? he answered.

  “Hi, papi, when you coming home?” Amanda’s voiced boomed on the other end of the phone.

  “I won’t be in until the morning; why, what’s up?” he asked curiously.

  “Get the fuck out of here, you must have been drinking tonight,” Amanda said in her heavy accent.

  “Chill, I’m going out with the guys tonight,” he protested.

  “Tu loca?” she exclaimed, asking if Fresh was crazy. “I’m going to the club too. I ain’t going to be just sitting in the house all night by myself, plus Melissa was already going, so I was just going to hook up with her ‘cause it’s mad boring in the house.”

  “A’ight, a’ight, just don’t be drinking too much comprender ?” Fresh used one of the few Spanish words he knew.

  “Okay sexy, I’ll see you in the club papi, bye,” Amanda said, ending the conversation.

  As Fresh sat on the phone with Amanda, Rusty sat back thinking back on how the two men met.

  Rusty walked in the juvenile facility scared to death, but he knew if it came down to it he would get it on with anybody who tested him. He was the new kid in lockup and he knew how that shit went, but niggas had him all the way fucked-up if they thought that he was going to let them chump him. He didn’t believe in that initiation bullshit. If somebody wanted to come at him wrong he would leave ’em bleeding.

  As Rusty began to unpack his bag, two knuckleheads called themselves trying to extort him.

  “Yo, what you got for me, fam? the light-skinned kid asked, cracking his knuckles with his homeboy on his heels.

  “Yo, my man, I ain’t got nothing for you, go ahead with all that bullshit, Rusty said, waving the two kids off, not wanting to get into a scuffle his first day in the jail.

  “What? the other kid cut in. “Yo, fam, play the bathroom, the kid said as he and his partner headed to the bathroom.

  Rusty tied his sneakers up real tight and took a deep breath before he headed to the bathroom. He didn’t want to fight, he just wanted to do his time and get it over with but the two punks were already trying to make his stay more uncomfortable than it already was.

  Once Rusty stepped foot in the bathroom it was no talking, he walked straight up to the light-skinned kid and started swinging like a madman. His first two punches connected with the light-skinned kid’s jaw, making a loud clapping sound.

  Within seconds Rusty felt his opponent’s partner punching him in the back of his head. He felt punches coming from every angle as he quickly turned his attention toward the partner.

  They finally got Rusty on the floor, and started viciously kicking him in his ribs and back.

  Rusty thought it was over for him until Fresh came to his rescue.

  Fresh pulled out a sock with three bars of soap inside and beat the two kids like they stole something valuable from him and his mother. He swung the soap in a sock like a violent pair of nunchakus until both of the young kids were laid out on the bathroom floor leaking. Once he finished handling his business, Fresh quickly handed the bloody sock to one of his partners to get rid of the evidence of a weapon.

  “Yo, you a’ight, B? Fresh asked, helping Rusty back to his feet.

  “Yeah, good looking, them bitch-ass niggas had to jump me because they knew they couldn’t beat me one-on-one, Rusty said, spitting out blood.

  “Yeah, these clowns tried to do the same shit to me when I first got here, Fresh said, kicking the light-skinned kid in the face one last time.

  “Yo, nigga, you ready to go?”

  “Huh?” Rusty asked, snapping out of his daydream.

  “Nigga, you ready to go to the club and see some beautiful women?”

  “If the ass is round you know I’m down,” Rusty joked as they left the warehouse on their way to the club.

  “Damn, girl, you wearing them jeans,” Amanda teased her sister.

  “You know I does this,” Melissa joked, pretending she was walking down the runway.

  “Girl, when you going to find you a man?”

  “All the men I come across all act like little boys,” Melissa said, fixing her makeup. “But when I do find a man, he going to be the perfect man,” she chuckled, giving her sister a high five. “Now you know that skirt is too short, Fresh is going to be flipping when he see you.”

  “I am a grown-ass woman, plus I can’t help it that I’m sexy,” Amanda said, strapping up her three-inch heels. “Don’t worry about my man, worry about trying to get you a man.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t be long,” Melissa assured her older sister.

  When the two sisters stepped outside, they turned the heads of every man in sight.

  “Muy bien, mami,” crackhead Lucky said as he walked past the two Spanish divas.

  “I hate that crackhead, he’s always staring at me,” Melissa said, frowning up her face.

  “Leave that junkie alone, he ain’t bothering nobody,” Amanda said, flagging down a cab. “Let’s just have us a good night,” she said as the two hopped in the cab.

  “Let’s pray these fools up in this club act like they got some sense tonight,” Melissa said as the cab pulled off, taking them to their destination.

  “Damn, look at all these hoes,” Pooh said as he slowly cruised past the club.

  “Yo, that line is around the fuckin’ corner,” Pop stated, throwing a piece of Winter fresh in his mouth.

  “Come on let’s get up in here,” Pooh said as they placed their guns under their seats and headed inside the club.

  “What’s good, my dude?” Pooh said, giving the bouncer a pound and slipping fifty dollars in his hand.

  “How many you got with you tonight?” the big bouncer asked, discreetly stuffing the bill in his pocket.

  “Just me and my man right here,” Pooh said as he and Pop bypassed the line and entered the joint.

  When Pop stepped foot inside the club he almost went crazy. This was his first time ever going to the club—he wasn’t even old enough to get in yet—but he was connected now.

  Pop was only eig
hteen, but that night he felt like he was over twenty-one and loved every minute of it.

  Pop watched as Pooh gave dap to the people he knew. Pop could tell that most of the guys were drug dealers and most of the girls were gold diggers looking for a quick come-up. Almost every woman was dressed in something skimpy or dressed like a prostitute in order to catch the eye of a baller. As Pop and Pooh walked through the crowded club, they saw Fresh waving them over to his VIP section.

  “My niggas, glad y’all could make it,” Fresh said, giving both men pounds.

  “Had to get out the hood for a minute,” Pop said, accepting the drink that Rusty was handing him.

  “If you stay in the hood too long it will drive you crazy,” Fresh replied as he noticed Amanda and Melissa walk up in the club.

  “Come over here so I can holla at y’all for a second,” Fresh said as the duo took a seat on the couch.

  “I’m going to need you two to take care of something for me tomorrow, something serious,” he said.

  “Whatever it is I’m sure we can handle it,” Pop stated as he killed his drink.

  “One of my lieutenants got himself mixed up in a murder charge,” Fresh whispered in a huddle.

  “So what, you need us to take out the witness?” Pooh joked.

  “That’s exactly what I need y’all to do,” Fresh said seriously before he continued. “Some lady in her early thirties.” Fresh handed Pooh a photo of the woman.

  “I’m missing out of a lot of money while my man is sitting up on Rikers Island. There’s no way this woman can testify,” Fresh said with seriousness in his voice.

  “Is she in protective custody?” Pop asked curiously.

  “Nah, not that I know of,” Fresh responded.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it, but not tonight, my nigga,” Pooh said as he got up and headed to the dance floor.

  “Enjoy the rest of your night, get you one of these fine-ass bitches up in here,” Fresh chuckled as Amanda walked up right on time.

  Pop hit the dance floor and saw Pooh getting his freak on with some thick, dark-skinned chick. Pooh was a straight-up animal while he was on the dance floor; he and the dark-skinned chick practically had sex with their clothes on for three songs straight.