A Hood Chick's Story pt. 2

by LaShonda DeVaughn

  “Nah you don’t know me but I knew your little brother Sharod. I had a crush on him. And when I was younger me and my girls looked up to you and Ke-Ke and them.”

  She looked over at Tony’s Beamer with admiration in her eyes. “I see you and T-Money are still doing y’all’s thing. I respect it. Go and get your money little duffle bag girl.”

  I walked away, these little girls were looking up to me for all the wrong reasons. That one play that I served with Tony had this girl admiring the fact that I was with a drug dealer, shit had to change.

  We got to the office and started clearing out things that we needed. I tearfully looked around displeased that our accomplishment was now about to be a simple memory. We hadn’t even announced to the staff that the business was going under and I felt bad that we would be putting them out of a job. We gave it a good run but I guess all I could say is, shit happens. We planned to tell them on Monday that we would be closing the office the Friday following. We hadn’t opened up any new accounts in weeks anyway and I made sure that I used a different lender when I made my purchase.

  Tony didn’t show any remorse toward the office closing. He just figured he now had to do what he had to do to get back on top. His mind stayed glued to what he had to do on the streets. Our relationship was still very distant after the night of that mission. Mainly because I couldn’t look at him the same after knocking me out the way that he did. We hadn’t even fucked in a while but I didn’t even care.

  Besides worrying about the company, I had Sharod’s anniversary party coming up that I had to set up and I had a lot to do.

  Two weeks had gone by and we closed down our mortgage company the Friday of week one. It was very sad and a lot of the employees were taken by surprise. I felt so bad, Susan actually cried but I told her that we would always stay in touch. She was a cool white chick and I had taken a liking to her over the years. But I knew I probably wouldn’t be in touch with her unless I needed something. Shit, her pops was a cop I couldn’t fuck with her like that knowing that Tony was hot.

  The Saturday of Sharod’s anniversary snuck up on us quite fast. The week before I had called around for different venues before locating the perfect spot to hold the celebration. I secured a large hall in Jamaica Plain which was perfect because most of Sharod’s friends were still underage so it was no use in renting out a club.

  Renee helped me set everything up for the party. We always did it up real big in Sharod's remembrance so that we could continue to keep his name alive in the hood. I got a big poster size picture of Sharod and had it hung high next to the words: “Rest in Peace, We miss you”. I paid a few grand for a local Boston DJ Dru Nyce to host the party and I ordered catering from Bob the Chef’s soul food.

  The hall held about two hundred people but I was only expecting about fifty to seventy five. I wasn’t too keen on having friends of friends there. It was strictly people who knew my little brother, my few friends and of course Trè’s boys always came through to show their support. It was all love at the remembrance parties and I respected everyone who came through to show their love for my baby brother.

  It was about noon when Renee and I put the finishing touches on the hall. We put all the table cloths on the tables, angled the chairs to the appropriate tables as well as along the walls. We spread silver confetti on the floor and let a few white helium filled balloons fly to the ceiling. I stood back and looked around at our hard work and after seeing that everything was to my satisfaction, Renee and I left. I dropped her off at home so that she could get herself together and do what she had to do before the party and I headed home.

  I had a ritual that I had done every year since Sharod’s passing. I would pour myself a glass of White Zinfandelwine, sit inside of my living room in peace and quiet, turn off my cell phone and house phone ringer, pull out the photo album that I created with pictures of Sharod from when he was a baby up until the time he died and reminisce.

  Tucked inside the album was the braid that I cut off his hair when he died and I would rub it with my thumb as I turned the pages of the album. This was my moment of mourning, my moment of remembrance, my time to cry. I would cry so hard that my ribs felt like they were caving into my stomach. I would occasionally laugh at some of his baby pictures remembering the good times that him, Trè, my mom and I shared when we were younger. It hurt that I couldn’t have those years back. If I could give my right arm and leg to have them back I would cut them off myself.

  After soaking dozens of tissues with tears, I completed my ritual. I headed to Shirley Max. The prison where Trè was serving his time and I would grieve with him. I mean, I knew that Trè was in jail and couldn’t let other inmates see him shedding tears but we would talk through the whole visit about how we thought Sharod would be if he were still with us.

  “Remember how he would always smile when he walked in the room? He always gave that sly smile and I wondered what he was up to,” I said to Trè after we exchanged hugs and small talk and then getting deep into our Sharod conversation.

  Trè took a few seconds to answer because I could see his eyes drown into the wall visualizing Sharod. Trè was so tough and hardcore, but this broke him; losing Sharod fucked him up.

  I stared at Trè’s face waiting for his response. His face was all broken out in small bumps from being in the dirty prison system. He had dry blotches on his cheeks and his hair was dry and you could see the dandruff on the top of his old cornrows. His hair had grown about 2-3 inches and he’d gotten bigger, probably from lifting weights to pass the time.

  After taking a long sigh, Trè finally replied.

  “Sis, this shit is hard man. I miss Sharod like crazy and it ain’t helping being in here. I be wanting to fuck niggas up for no reason. I’m hoping and praying to beat this appeal.”

  “Appeal?” I asked surprised. I normally knew everything about Trè’s court business, I paid for his lawyer and everything. No one told me about an appeal.

  Trè smiled. “I wanted to surprise you sis, my request for an appeal went through. There are holes in the evidence.

  When we got caught that night Big Renz told the jakes that he had did everything. That nigga was so down for the block, plus he knew how much losing Sharod meant to me. When 5-O surrounded us, he was in the car saying ‘Trè I’ll take the fall for this’. I mean I thought the nigga was talking out his ass but I also knew that he felt bad for a nigga. This is our little bro, niggas knew how hard that shit hit home feel me? But wanting to take the fall for all the hammers we had in the car was bananas. But he kept talking about how much work I put in for niggas so I respected his decision. But even with him taking the fall for the hammers, they still pinned this shit on me. Especially when they found out that the murders were linked for revenge.”

  Trè looked around to see if any of the Correction Officers were walking up before he continued.

  “Come here sis.” Trè signaled for me to sit up closer to him and I moved up toward him. “We tossed the burners we used on them niggas in the sewer before we got caught up. They didn’t even catch us with the burners that killed them dudes. We just had so many guns in the car that night that they had to get us with something, plus they tried to say that I was a fuckin’ career criminal, that’s why they tried to add so many years to my shit. But the fact that they didn’t catch us with the guns that killed them cowards left my case open for flaws. So pray for me sis, I’m ‘bout to be off this soon.”

  I smiled big. I was so happy to hear that there was a chance for my big bro to come home.

  “Wow, this brought some joy to my day bro, that’s what’s up.”

  Trè laughed. “So I’ll be out to put my little sister in a head lock again,” he said referring to how we used to fight in our younger days.

  “Yeah whatever Trè, you’re so silly. But on a serious note, if you get to come home, it would really do me some justice. I miss our family. I don’t even know where Ma is, what kind of shit is that? Is she still rejecting your letters?”<
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  Trè pursed up his lips.

  “I don’t send letters out anymore because they don’t get forwarded to her new address; she put a stop to that. To be real with you T, at this point in my life, especially with me having a lot of time in here to think, I just put it like this, I don’t have a mother or a father. We are on our own T and we’re all we got, me you and Sharod, because his spirit lives in us.”

  Trè was dead serious, he had given up on our mom. And all of his so-called friends on the outside never visited him. No one sent him money unless I bumped into one of them on the streets then they would feel obligated to swing me whatever they had in their pockets to give to him. Other than that, they weren’t thinking about him. That’s how it was in the hood. When the top dog is on the outs, everyone respected him and professed how down they were for their block. Once that top dog got locked up, you’d see just how many of them so-called friends would visit, put money on their phones or swing them canteen money. You would be lucky to get just one faithful visitor. Me on the other hand, loyalty was in my veins, I could never keep someone that I loved hanging.

  The last thing that Trè said to me before leaving was that I needed to go get myself a gun license so that I would have protection in my house in case anything had ever happened. I told him how Tony had been asking me to do the same for months and that it was already taken care of. After that, I left.

  I felt bad cutting the visit with Trè a little short but I had to go home and spend a little time with Shayonna before I packed her things to send her to Tony’s aunt’s house for the night. I also had to get myself together so that Tony and I would arrive at the hall on time.

  Chapter Eleven – The Reunion

  The party was on and popping and everyone was having a good time enjoying the food and music.

  Flirt with the hoodrats and then pop models! Everyone was amped to the tunes of Lil Wayne and Bird Man’s song but no one danced but the females. Most of the niggas didn’t dance in Boston anyway, they only played the walls. The most you’d see them doing is two stepping.

  All of Sharod’s friends showed up, well the one’s that weren’t locked up for minor hood shit, selling drugs, stolen cars or getting caught with a gun, the usual. Sharod’s three closest friends who I remembered hanging with Sharod at my house back in the day always showed up. Every year they had a shirt with a different picture of Sharod on it and when the hall coordinators flicked off the lights, they all put up their lighters yelling out their blocks and shouting Sharod’s name. I was proud that I was able to keep the parties live as if Sharod was right there partying with us, no one would ever forget my little soldier for sure.

  I noticed that out of all of Sharod’s friends, his three close friends, Mumbles, Kal and Turk had small writing in quotations on the back of their shirts. I pulled them aside to ask them what it stood for because I had never asked them before but I did remember seeing it on their shirts at the last anniversary.

  Mumbles was a gunner, he was crazy as shit, his reputation on the streets was that he would bust his gun quick so if you don’t pull yours out first, you already lost. He was as small as me but that didn’t stop him from setting it with some of the biggest niggas.

  Kal was laid back and very much into chicks. He was young, dumb and full of cum. He was only nineteen and had two kids by two different chicks and one on the way from a third. He thought that shit was cute too. But he was also known for robbing niggas. That little nigga stayed sticking niggas up.

  Turk was always getting locked up. He spent much of his young life in the juvenile correctional system. Matter fact he got locked up a little after Sharod had died and he was in jail all fucked up over it.

  “T, you just now seeing that writing on our shirts? We put that on the back of our Sharod shirts every year!” Mumbles shouted trying to yell over the music.

  Mumbles was the closest of the three to Sharod. The three of them helped jump the boy that ended up taking Sharod’s life. It was their very own friend who killed my brother. He tried to steal out of my mom’s purse and they whooped his ass. He couldn’t take an old fashioned ass whopping and later ended up taking the life of my little brother and now my older brother Trè and his boys took his. This hood beef shit goes on and on, especially when someone gets killed. Unfortunately my family was a victim of the street statistics and the shit still weighs heavily within me.

  “Let me talk to you over there for a second cause this shit’s kinda deep?” Mumbles said pointing to a more quiet spot near the restrooms; we left Kal and Turk by the wall and walked off.

  The words on the back of their shirts read: “Don’t Cry, Just Ride!” And I was dying to know what it symbolized.

  “So what’s up with that, why do y’all always put that on the back of your tee’s?” I asked.

  Mumbles leaned over and whispered in my ear. “When me, Sharod, Kal and Turk started getting into this street shit, we used to have long talks about dying; especially after we started putting in work. We always asked each other what we woulddo if one of us died. And you know how smooth Sharod was, he was straight to the point. He said to us: ‘Dog if I die, don’t cry, just ride’. And T, I will always remember that. So niggas are still riding for Sharod getting at that nigga’s whole crew and whoever else is trying to retaliate for the nigga who took Rod.” Mumbles lifted up his shirt to reveal the gun he had tucked in his jeans. But I was still stuck on what my little brother told them.

  “Damn, that’s deep Mumbles, y’all never told me that.” I paused for a second drowning out the music in the club picturing Sharod saying the words Don’t Cry Just Ride and it stuck in my head. When I regained my focus I had to set Mumbles straight, I cared about him and I didn’t want anyone else getting into no more shit to make anyone else lose their life.

  “Mumbles, make sure you, Kal and Turk stay safe man. This street shit ain’t worth it. It keeps going back and forth and the shit makes no sense. Y’all just focus on getting money that’s what Sharod would have wanted a’ight?”

  Mumbles was still fired up thinking about Sharod, I’m sure my words didn’t sink in because the little nigga was crazy but I had hoped that he heard me.

  “A’ight T.” he said.

  These little nigga’s had their own agenda but I always gave my advice even if they didn’t take heed. They were my little homey’s and I wanted them safe. I didn’t care if they felt like I lost my hood appeal, I just finally had a grasp on life and the streets weren’t going to take control any longer, I was taking control and the streets wouldn’t win again, I hoped.

  “There you are T, I been looking for you,” Renee said. Mumbles mingled back over to his friends and I walked off with Renee. She took my hand and began leading me to a back room in the hall.

  “Girl why are we going back here, what’s back here?”

  I looked around at the grit and grime on the walls; it was so nasty back there it seemed as if we walked into another building. I didn’t know what the fuck Renee was up to.

  We finally reached a white door that Renee had to bump her ass on to open. As soon as she opened it, I walked in behind her.

  “Surprise,” Renee said in a shaky voice. There on the corroded old couches sat my old friends Ke-Ke and Karen. They both stood to acknowledge me and then greeted me at the same time.

  “Hey T,” they said in unison.

  I haven’t seen Ke-Ke and Karen in years. I damn sure never thought that I would see the both of them in the same room together. They wanted to take each other’s heads off over dirty dick Shawn. He had infected them both with crabs and the last I heard about the Karen and Ke-Ke situation was that they bumped into each other at the Copley mall and was about to get it on until security separated them both. Seeing them together only made me assume that they squashed it.

  Ke-Ke’s appearance was different, I mean, no one could wear stress well, but with her, stress showed in her face profusely. Her pretty face was now riddled with dents and enlarged bags under her eyes. When I l
ooked at her stomach, I noticed that her gut was sitting out almost as far out as her donkey ass so I assumed that she must have a seed or two. Plus her lips were black as if she smoked as much as Tony. Overall, she looked bad.

  Karen looked exactly the same. She tried to smile through her screw face when she greeted me but I could tell that she was the same bitch. I felt kind of awkward seeing my old friends. We were so close when we were young, bitches couldn’t tell us nothing. Funny how friendships could end over men, petty arguments or unnecessary drama. If you really think about it, nothing is worth losing good friends or real friends for that matter. I kept my distance through the years because I needed to get my mind right after losing Sharod. Renee was basically my only friend during the time that I challenged the hardest years of my life without my family.

  Before I said anything to Karen and Ke-Ke, I glanced over at Renee. She had a sly look on her face.

  “Don’t kill me T, but I did call them. They felt bad after not being there for you over the years after losing Sharod. So we thought this was the perfect place for us to squash everything.”