Numbers

by Dana Dane

  “I miss you, too,” she said, as if reading his mind, slowly letting him out of her arms. She was nearly the same height as Waketta was, with the same enticing pretty browns and luscious ruby lips. She was a real stunner. “How long you in town?” she asked.

  “Not long.”

  “Too bad. I thought we could get together and catch up.”

  Numbers could tell she was flirting with him. He wanted to say yes but knew he had too much to do and too much at stake.

  “Maybe another time, Teesha. I gotta head back down low.” He wanted to kick himself for declining.

  “No problem, but listen, before you leave, come by the hood. I got something I need to give you. Promise me you will?” She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She stood there waiting for him to say the magic words.

  He smiled slightly at her bossiness. It reminded him of her sister. “I promise.”

  “Here, take my math and call me when you’re on your way, aiight?”

  “Will do.”

  Numbers went to his mother’s house, showered, ate, and slept well for the first time in over two and half days. When he awoke six hours later in the middle of the day, he called Rosa and let her know he was all right and would be home soon. Then he called Jarvis and his cousins. Neither answered. The next call he made was to Sanchez. Sanchez informed him that Jarvis and his cousins had never shown up.

  Something was fishy. No one had heard from any of them. Was Sanchez lying? Did they get stuck up for all that cash? Or did they split with the loot? After all that Numbers had been through, he knew this was a dirty game and anything was possible. But Jarvis wouldn’t cross him. He was equally confident his family wouldn’t cross him either. He went back to his original thought: anything’s possible, and he knew his cousins and Jarvis had the tendency for greed and power. Maybe they had their own plot—one that didn’t include him.

  Why?

  Numbers said good-bye to his family and jumped into his triple black BMW 745. He called Lateesha and met her on Park Avenue near building 68. She jumped into the passenger seat.

  “Now, this is the Numbers I remember, looking good,” she stated, sexing him with her eyes.

  Numbers was equally impressed. She looked even better the second time around.

  “I’ve been holding this letter for you since the funeral.” Her demeanor changed. She spoke with a glum look on her face. “Ketta wanted you to have it.” Numbers took the worn, sealed envelope from her, wondering if she knew what was in it.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “Nah, but I know how she felt about you and that she wanted you to have it. It’s got your name on it. I wanted to give it to you personally to make sure you got it.”

  “Thanks, Teesha. Good to see you. You looking well,” he said, meaning she was looking very well.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” she encouraged. She kissed him gingerly on the lips with her wet glossies. Then she opened the door and slid out, smiling seductively.

  Numbers watched her move up the courtyard. She strutted just like her sister. He knew what he was thinking was wrong, but he couldn’t help but fantasize about being with Lateesha. She was just as fine as her sister.

  He tore open the envelope and read the enclosed letter:

  Numbers,

  You know I love you! I will always love you! I know this is crazy—me writing you a letter and all, especially since you’re my best friend and I can talk to you about any and everything. But this is very difficult for me to say to you. I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. I thought you might not ever want to talk to me again. I know Jar probably told you anyway, but fuck him, we’ll get to that in a moment.

  I went out on a date one time with Crush. I promise you nothing happened. That duck didn’t get a feel off me and even though you got a girl and a kid, I still feel like you’re my man regardless and I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m sorry, please forgive me. I needed to get that out the way.

  Now the hard part… I really don’t know how you’re gonna take this, baby, but I will do whatever you tell me to do. I’ll keep it, get rid of it, whatever you want. I’m sure you figured it out by now … I’m pregnant with your child.

  When I found out I was so happy. Then I was so sad, because I didn’t want to mess up anything with you and Rosa. That’s why I wrote this letter, because it was hard to say it to your face. Just promise me when you read this you won’t be mad at me and that nothing will change between us. I couldn’t stand it if I lost your friendship, baby. I need you.

  Now the last thing I need to tell you is about Jar. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Jar is jealous of you. I think he’s been scheming on you with Crush. That’s how they knew we weren’t pumping that day in the park and that’s why he was trying to get you to split from Coney. He’s been mad ever since I chose you over him and he always says some slick shit to me about it. Something is not right with him so watch out please.

  Baby, please, please, please don’t be mad at me. I love you always and forever!

  Till the wheels fall off,

  Ketta

  “Fucking Jar,” Numbers cursed, punching the horn on his ride several times. It all started to make sense now. Jarvis set him up to get killed, and that’s why Waketta was dead now. That’s why he was able to catch Crush out there sleeping and why he murked him before he could ask him any questions. Jarvis was probably the one who let Rosa know about him and Waketta. He’s been plotting against me all this time, Numbers realized. Why? Why would he do me dirty like this? Numbers was baffled. They were like brothers. Had he really been that salty about him and Waketta all this time? Numbers didn’t want to believe his right-hand man had dogged him.

  Then again, the evidence was there. Jarvis had attempted to undermine and destroy everything Numbers had built. There was no limit to his deceit; he was possibly the one who’d set up Coney as well. He’d put everything that Numbers loved in jeopardy. Rosa and even his son could have been killed when Ketta was shot—and he had been the real target. Had he been plotting with Crush all along?

  “Nah, that nigger’s dead,” Numbers vented out loud, furious. He wasn’t letting this shit slide. Numbers had never actually pulled the trigger on anyone in his life, but that was about to change.

  He was on a mission. He parked the car where he sat, then walked to his old building. He wanted to speak to Jarvis’s mother or sister or someone. He wanted answers. He knocked and knocked, but no one was home. He hit the streets. He rode around BK for the rest of the night, blowing up Jarvis and his cousins’ phones trying to locate them, to no avail. At a little past one in the morning, he made up his mind to head back down low. He was tired, but the thought of Jarvis and possibly his cousins double-crossing him kept him awake and on point.

  When he pulled up to his colonial home with the well-manicured landscaping next to his lady’s brand-new gold 2003 Lexus RX 300 at nine that morning, he was greeted by Rosa and R.C. He walked into their nearly empty house. Rosa had done exactly as he had asked her and packed and moved almost everything for relocation.

  A couple of weeks earlier when he’d laid out his plan, he had his lady go down to Charlotte, North Carolina, and find them a house. Whether things went as planned or not on this road trip, he was done with the drug game and they were moving. The last piece of the puzzle was his cousins and Jar. Where the fuck are they? Numbers couldn’t understand it. He’d instructed his cousins to get in touch with Rosa when they got back into Virginia. He had a feeling he would be detained. He called over to his aunt’s, then Wynter and John-John’s, but nothing. No one had heard from either of the brothers.

  Did they plan this all long? Numbers remembered when Jarvis came down to visit. He and his cousins had hit it off. Numbers remembered coming into the stash house and them huddled up, talking, until he walked in and they seemed to go hush-hush. He thought long and hard about this theory. Something was awry, but Numbers couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He wished at th
at moment that he was as good at predicting the future as he was at predicting the cards.

  The second evening after Numbers was back in Virginia, five days since he’d had any contact with his cousins or Jarvis, the phone rang. It was his mother. She was frantic and hysterical. He listened for a moment, then dropped the receiver. His face went blank. He stared off into the twilight zone. Tears began to roll down his face.

  “What, Dupree? What?” Rosa queried, sensing something was terribly wrong. After a moment passed and Numbers hadn’t answered, she picked up the phone and spoke.

  “Oh my God!” she cried. “I’m so sorry, Momma Jenny. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say. “Momma Jenny, I’ll have him call you back.” She hung up.

  Numbers looked up and saw his son looking at him. He grabbed him and his lady close, hugging them like it would be the last time he’d touch another human. He wept uncontrollably. He prayed for forgiveness as he embraced them even tighter.

  Jenny had called with the news that Matt and Mel had been found dead in their truck with the backs of their heads blown off.

  Several days passed. On the day of his cousins’ funeral, Numbers and his family hit the road to Charlotte, leaving no forwarding address. He didn’t have the heart to face his aunt. It was because of him that they were dead. He’d lost a lot in this game. More than he could ever get back. It was time for a new beginning.

  He was blessed to be rid of the burden of the drug game. He’d escaped with his life and his freedom. Not many in this game could claim the same. Coney couldn’t say that for sure; he was going to be doing a score or more federal time. Crispy Carl would be proud that Numbers got out when he did.

  As for Jarvis, that chapter wasn’t closed. He’d gotten Numbers’s best friend and lover killed, plotted his demise, stolen nearly a million dollars from him and murdered his cousins in cold blood. They had been friends from boys to men, and now they were rivals to the bitter end. Numbers couldn’t help but to assimilate his situation on some New Jack City shit. Am I my brother’s keeper? Jarvis would have to answer for his treachery. Numbers would never underestimate any man again. Numbers had had Jarvis pegged wrong all along. He’d thought his childhood friend was more brawn than brain. He was surely much more than he appeared. Not just a reactor, as Numbers had previously believed. He’d proved to be more calculating, cunning, and devious than Numbers could have ever foreseen.

  Numbers was warned early on by Crispy Carl that this was a grimy business, more grimy than the New York sewage system backed up on the hottest day of the year. But he could never have fathomed it would be like this.

  Although he was out close to a million dollars, he was still okay. Sure, he didn’t have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. He knew he wouldn’t have had that even if everything went as diagrammed, but what he did have would do until he figured out his next move. The old hustle was dead, but Numbers did have a fledgling new hustle in mind.

  A brother gotta keep grinding. He ain’t got enough Numbers yet!

  Acknowledgments

  You would think writing the acknowledgments would be the easy part after writing a novel. But this has turned out, for me, to be the most difficult part. The difficulty has been figuring out who I should thank, who I should thank first, and then how to get started. Should I praise GOD first as so many do? Or should I thank Nikki Turner for opening up this avenue for me?

  After weeks, even months, of deliberation, I finally decided how I wanted to start this and who I wanted to thank first, so here it is.

  I’d like to thank me … Dana Dane! I know you think it might sound a little arrogant and pompous, but it’s not like that at all. I decided thanking myself first is appropriate because I made this happen! It started with me writing the first word, sentence, paragraph, chapter, and ultimately the book. I believed in myself when no one else would bother with me. It was my determination, drive, ambition, and focus that made this possible. It was my will to not let this be just another incomplete brilliant idea. This process was on me! Either I did it or it wouldn’t have gotten done. So kudos to me for understanding that you’re never too old and it’s never to late to accomplish something new, to live your dream and find your passion.

  Now, with that said … no one does anything by themselves! I would be nothing without the blessings, grace, and mercy of GOD! GOD has answered so many of my prayers and come to my rescue more times than I can count. I am truly blessed.

  I have been blessed with a nurturing mother, Nora Olivia McCleese, who made it possible for me to believe the impossible was attainable. Through her hard work and dedication to me and my sister, Sheryl, I knew anything could be accomplished. I think it unimaginable to have a better mother, parent, guardian, or friend. Thank you, Mommy. I love you!

  To my son Dana “Young Dane,” whose own talents and abilities have inspired me to write more than rhymes. There is no limit to what you can and will accomplish. I look forward to cheering, guiding, and assisting you as you make your dreams and passions reality, whatever they may be. You have to know and believe as my mother taught me that greatness is possible.

  To his mother, Sheleise, for being a great friend to me and a better mother to our son. You are truly a gem.

  To my lady, Tana, for being a steady, sobering voice. Thank you for proofreading my book and making me understand that I need to brush up on my English 101. Now if I can just get organized. LOL!

  And thanks to all the people I called to help me with my background information to make this story as true as possible: Theo “Teddy” Adams, for letting me see the Norfolk, Virginia, area through your eyes. And Slick Dave aka Slick Daddyism, Thurst, Mikey Dread, Chief J-Rocker, Karief, Robo, Troy “Preme” Mott, Noodles aka Diggy, Andre “MR.” Williams, and Joseph C. Grant, for your creative insight.

  Craig Robinson, thank you for your time and dedication to my project. You are a phenomenal talent—can’t wait to read your book. Thank you for your guidance, advice, and suggestions throughout this process. I’ve learned a great deal from you.

  To Nikki Turner, my sister, one of the most talented and creative writers and people ever! You have given me the opportunity to expand my brand and extend my craft to those who might believe that a hip-hop artist like myself can only rap. You have become like a sister to me. Thank you for providing the talented group of people to help make my idea a reality. Thank you for all you are, have been, and will be. I truly appreciate you and I have genuine love for you!

  To all the gifted and skilled writers, artists, editors, and other employees at One World/Ballantine/Random House who shaped my piece of coal into a diamond, especially Melody Guy, Porscha Burke, Beth Pearson, and Pat Mac: I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

  To my friends—my support system and inspiration—you all have given me your assistance with your encouragement and prayers. You are greatly appreciated. Thank you! Thank you! Mark Boogie Brown, D-Nice, Michael “Harry-O” Harris, Leslie Wyatt, Joey, Lance Brown, Kool Alski, Wilfred “Omega” Hilton, Slick Rick and Mandy, Bido 1, Christopher “Play” Martin, Kym Smith, Mark “DJ Wiz” Eastmond, T.N. Baker, Scharee Brown-Davis, Lady B, Julie Evans, Mark Anderson, Gary, Al, Carlos, Big Dre, Lydia Harris, Red Alert, Grace/Harlem Diamonds, Dougie Dee, The Awesome 2, The Game, Big Ced, Scheketta Lawson, Dionne Randall, Jesse Itzler, Robert “Real” Nance, Regina King, Carl “C Boogillz,” Soulgee McQueen, Buckshot, Ty Deals, Blue Flame, Chubb Rock, GMD, Whodini, Big Daddy Kane, Postive K, Elisa Askew, Stephanie Carnegie, Fred Crawford, MC Lyte, K Rock, Maha, Ice T, Queen Latifah, Melinda Williams, Chris Rock, Scott Modlin, Tonya Bird, Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew, James “D Train” Williams, John Adams (Flashback TV), The Source, Joeski Love, Ronnie Triana, Wiz, Prowski, Francine and Champ and the Gray family, Thirstin Howl III, Kwamé and Tamekia Holland, Charles Oakley, Perry “Don P.” Foster, Ash, E Boogie, Wayne Mayo, B. J. Stone, Cathy Borusso, Kenneth Sp
ellman, Mark Jackson and Desiree Coleman-Jackson, my Sirius Satellite Radio family, DJ Kaos, Darren “D Love” Harrington, Rod Strictland, Full Force, UTFO, Mike Dean, Jermaine & Jimmy, Lilias Rodriguez, Irving Pantin, Kenny “The Jet” Smith, Scoob Lover aka Johnny Famous, Sadat X, Ike Capone, Dr. Roxanne Shanté, James Prince, Todd Westphal, Kenneth “Boo” and Wanda Williams, Ralph McDaniels, Daryl “Chill” Mitchell, and countless others!

  My godchildren—Janay Wells, Bianca Graves, KJ and Khalil Williams, Julian Taylor-Brooks—and my stepson, Brandon Thompson.

  Thank you, too, my legal counsel, Scott Mason and Clyde Vanel, and my business manager, Robert P. Reilly.

  If I missed you, I didn’t diss you, I just forgot to list you! Love, Respect, Blessings … Fullcircle … Dane

  DANA DANE gained notoriety in 1985 with the release of the classic rap single “Nightmares” off his 1987 gold-selling debut album, Dana Dane with Fame. Known as one of the icons of hip-hop and one of its greatest storytellers, Dana has expanded his craft and entertainment outreach with his debut novel. A former Sirius Satellite Radio host, Dane tours with other hip-hop icons. Dana Dane currently resides in New York near his mother, sister, and teenage son. He is working on his next novel.

  Numbers is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A One World Books Trade Paperback Original

  Copyright © 2009 by Dana Dane

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by One World Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  ONE WORLD is a registered trademark and the One World colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.