Eastside

by Caleb Alexander

  Finally, a horn blew. It was a familiar horn, from a familiar car, with a familiar face seated behind the steering wheel. It was Tamika.

  Travon raced down the steps of the Bexar County jail to his car, where he flung open the passenger side door and leapt inside. He and Tamika embraced.

  “Tre, what happened?” she asked. Her tears began flowing.

  “I have to get away from Lil Fade. He’s crazy. He killed her, he killed the witness.”

  Tamika gasped and covered her mouth with both of her hands. “Oh my God, Tre! Are you sure?”

  Travon nodded. “Yeah, he told me in the visitation room, right after you left.”

  “I saw Robert and Capone in the lobby when I was leaving that day, but I didn’t see him.”

  “He was there, trust me. He was there.” Travon turned and stared out of the window. “C’mon, baby, let’s go. Let’s get out of here.”

  “We need gas, Tre.”

  Travon laughed. “That’s right. I was about to get some gas when I got arrested. My luck with gas stations hasn’t been too good.”

  Tamika joined in the laughter. “We can make it to Stop N Go on I Thirty-Five. That way, we can get on the highway, and stay on the highway.”

  “We’re not going to Dallas, baby,” Travon explained. “We’re going to Houston. We got to take Interstate Ten to Houston, so go through downtown and we’ll stop and get gas at that Diamond Shamrock across from the Alamo dome.”

  “Okay, and then you get behind the wheel,” Tamika told him.

  They drove through downtown, where traffic was light for a Tuesday afternoon. The ride to the filling station took only ten minutes. Tamika pulled up next to the pump, and turned off the car. Travon opened his door and climbed out.

  “I’ll be right back,” he told her.

  “Wait, I’m coming in.”

  “Girl, just tell me what you want and I’ll get it. It takes ten minutes just for you to get out of the car.”

  “We’re hungry, and we haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Tamika protested. “Besides, I don’t even know what I want yet.”

  “We’ll stop for something to eat once we get out of the city.”

  Tamika waddled past him. “C’mon, boy.”

  They entered the store and Travon walked to the soda cooler, where he got a Big Red soda. He then walked to the stand where the chips were, and grabbed himself a bag of Munchies. He peered over the aisle at Tamika, who was still trying to decide what type of candy she wanted.

  “Get me a pack of M&M’s with peanuts,” Travon told her. “I’ma go and start pumping the gas. I’m gonna pay the man for the stuff, so don’t forget to get my change.”

  Travon walked to the register, where he handed the clerk thirty dollars. He turned and pointed toward Tamika. “Give her my change. It’s just this, whatever she wants, and twenty in the tank. I think it’s pump number four.”

  The clerk nodded, sat the money to the side, and Travon turned and walked out of the store. He pulled open his bag of potato chips, wanting to eat a few before he started pumping the smelly gas.

  “Well, well, well, look what we have here,” a familiar voice called out.

  Travon peered up from his bag of chips to find Dejuan standing outside of his big white Mercedes, which was parked on the other side of the gas pump from his car. Quentin was seated in the backseat, while Tech Nine was standing outside with the passenger side door open. Dupriest was nestled in the backseat on the passenger side.

  Travon’s first instinct was to run back inside the store, but then he remembered that Tamika was there, along with his unborn children. Besides, running inside would be pointless, as Quentin and Tech Nine would simply get out of the car, walk inside of the store, and blow his brains out in front of everyone.

  Quentin lifted an M-16 A2 Shorty assault rifle and pointed it at him. Dejuan walked around to the driver’s side of his car, where he climbed inside.

  “You jacked me for five ounces, your punk-ass homeboys got me for eighty grand and all my jewelry, plus your little ass is a turncoat!” Dejuan told him.

  Tech Nine climbed into the big Benz and closed his door, just as Dejuan cranked the engine. Travon’s heart slowed down to a semi-normal pace when he realized that they were about to leave, and that there existed a marginal chance that they would not kill him.

  Dejuan peered over his shoulder toward Quentin. “Do that muthafucka!”

  Quentin smiled and took aim, just as Tamika exited the store. He peered up from his rifle and stared at her for several seconds, before a sadistic smile slid across his face.

  Travon watched in horror as Quentin’s rifle slowly slid to the left, moving away from him to Tamika and the twins.

  “Noooo!” Travon screamed. He raced toward Tamika, desperately trying to be in the path of the gun. The bullet was faster.

  Quentin’s assault rifle released its energy, and instantly, Tamika fell. Slowly, Dejuan’s S600 Mercedes pulled away, with laughter pouring from the backseat.

  Travon dropped to his knees and lifted Tamika’s head into his lap. He began to move her hair out of her face.

  “Tamika, talk to me!” he shouted.

  Tamika smiled, and Travon began crying uncontrollably. He pressed his face against hers. Slowly, Tamika’s angelic smile drifted from her face, and she closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Downtown Baptist Hospital

  Travon paced nervously around the hospital waiting room, waiting for Tamika to come out of surgery. A doctor wearing green surgical garb walked in and approached the waiting room desk. The nurse behind the desk pointed at Travon and the doctor turned and approached him.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Markowitz. Are you the young man who rode inside of the ambulance with Ms. Johnson?”

  Travon nodded nervously. “Yeah, Doc, how’s she doing?”

  The doctor frowned. “Are you her brother?”

  “No.” Travon shook his head frantically. “No, I’m her fiancé.”

  Travon’s age gave the doctor pause. “Well, sir. Your name is?”

  “Tre. Travon Robinson. How is she?”

  “Well, Mr. Robinson, by the grace of Almighty God, we were able to save the babies. Luckily, she was close to downtown and the paramedics were able to revive her long enough. The boys will be fine. They will have to stay here for observation for a while, but they are going to make it.”

  “Wait a minute, what do you mean, long enough? What’s wrong with Tamika? Please tell me she’s okay, Doc.”

  The doctor looked down and shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. We did everything we possibly could.”

  “But they said she would be okay! They revived her, Doc, I saw them! They revived her! God damn it, that’s not fair!” Travon fell to his knees and began crying heavily. “It’s not fair!”

  He leaned forward, until his head rested against the cold, white, sterile tile floor. “Oh, God, nooooo! Take me instead!” Travon pounded the floor with his fist. “Take meeee!”

  Tamika’s mother and two of her aunts ran into the waiting room. They spied Travon on the ground crying hysterically, and Tamika’s mother fell into the arms of her sister.

  “My baby!” she screamed. “My baby!”

  Travon remained at the hospital through the night and well into the morning. He stayed long after Tamika’s mother had identified the body and left. He stayed long after the detectives had questioned him and left. He stayed long after the shifts had changed and the tears had dried. He sat alone in the corner of the waiting room, staring at a blank wall. In his mind, the doctor continuously walked into the room and told him that Tamika was okay and that he could go in and see her. Over and over again the scene was replayed inside of his mind, as he wished for the alternative, as he wished for what was not to be.

  Darius strolled into the waiting room, spied his cousin seated in the corner, and approached him. “It’s time to go. C’mon.”

  Travon continued to stare at the wall.

  Darius le
aned forward, grabbed Travon’s arm, and gently pulled him up. Travon turned, and stared into Darius’ eyes.

  “Why, Darius, why? Why not me?”

  Darius shook his head. “I don’t know why, T. I don’t know.”

  Travon’s tears returned, and he and Darius embraced. They stood in the hospital lobby and held each other for a long time.

  “C’mon,” Darius told him, nodding toward the exit.

  The boys walked out of the hospital, climbed into Darius’ car and slowly pulled away.

  “People are saying it was Dejuan,” Darius told him.

  “It was,” Travon confirmed. His voice cracked. “He gave the order, and Quentin pulled the trigger. He told Quentin to kill me for the five ounces and the mall jacking. Quentin aimed at me, and then Mika walked out, and he killed her.”

  Travon’s tears came again. “He killed her.”

  “We’ll take care of it, don’t worry about shit. We’ll get them niggaz.” Darius turned on his stereo, but kept the volume low.

  Travon leaned against the passenger side window, and cried the rest of the way home.

  Darius pulled up to the house. There were people everywhere. Robinson’s cousins had been arriving since the previous evening, bringing with them a sizable arsenal and many friends. Aunt Vera, JoBeth, and LaTonya had abandoned the house, and went to stay at Chicken’s house, in order to make room for all of their out-of-town relatives and guests.

  Travon climbed out of the car, walked into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. It had been turned into a war room. Robert Jr., Frank, Caesar, Winky, Lil Daddy, Capone, Omar, Marcus, and Romeo were all there.

  “What’s up, kinfolk?” several of the boys asked.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Travon asked, acknowledging them back. He walked to his bed, which he climbed into and covered up.

  “I’m telling you, the way to get this muthafucka is through his wallet!” Robert Jr. told the assembled boys. “All of them muthafuckas revolve around money. It’s their whole life, it’s they whole world, and that’s how we get them. All of this shoot-’em-up, bang-bang shit y’all are talking ain’t gonna cut it.”

  “Man, we can find out where this dude stays, kick in the door, kill his ass, and it will be final!” Winky declared.

  Darius and Lil Fade walked into the room.

  “We gotta get all of them at once,” Darius told them. “Just getting Dejuan won’t do. Quentin pulled the trigger.”

  “The only time they are all together is if they are smashin’ somewhere like the mall, or to a concert or something,” Marcus added. “And then they’ll be too deep.”

  “I want this shit over with in one swoop,” Robert Jr. told them.

  “We all know that these dudes think money, so all we need to do is set a money trap,” Frank suggested. “Bring them fools to us.”

  Lil Fade snapped his fingers. “I got an idea. They don’t know Frank or his homeboys, so we use them to set these niggaz up. We put out the word that they are some outta-town ballers and that they are trying to move some weight. Remember, Dejuan is eighty grand short, and Dupriest, Quentin, and Tech Nine can’t resist a jack.”

  “How can we guarantee they’ll bite?” Frank asked. “How do we make sure they’ll get the word; and even if they do get it, how do we know when they’ll try something?”

  “If we put the word out through Missy at her beauty shop, then it will definitely get out,” Lil Fade told them. “Just tell her fat ass not to tell anybody, and she is guaranteed to tell everybody. Secondly, we put a time limit on how long y’all will be in town. Let’s say, three days. Then we just sit and wait for the rats to come to the cheese.”

  “Where do we plant this cheese?” Omar asked.

  “That’s easy, the Sky Ridge Motel,” Marcus answered. “It’s near the highway, not too cheap and sleazy, not expensive, and it’s privately owned. It’s also quiet and isolated. Just the kind of place out-of-town ballers would stay in, if they were carrying weight. It’s perfect.”

  Robert Jr. turned to Romeo. “Get in touch with the girls, we’ll need them for this. They’ll have to go to Missy’s with the guys, get their hair done, and run their mouths.”

  Romeo nodded. “Something they’ll be good at.”

  “We’ll need a mini van for this one, and some fake driver’s licenses to rent the room,” Darius told them.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Lil Fade said.

  “I want in.”

  Everyone in the room turned toward the bed.

  “I wanna kill the bastards who killed Mika,” Travon told them. “I wanna kill Quentin. I wanna do it myself.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Marcus asked. “We can handle it, dog.”

  “It might be better if you just rested up and let us handle this, Tre,” Darius told him. “You’re angry now, and anger brings carelessness. I don’t need any fuck-ups on this.”

  “Darius, you know I have to go,” Travon told him. “You know I gotta do this.”

  Darius shifted his gaze to the floor and nodded. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Sky Ridge Motel

  Night Two

  Robert Jr., Lil Fade, Capone, Romeo, and Travon were inside a stolen, burgundy Toyota Previa minivan. It was their night to watch the motel room.

  “They gotta hit tonight,” Lil Fade told them. “If I was gonna jack in this situation, I would do it as soon as possible. The quicker you hit, the less dope they will have sold, and the better chance of you hitting them first.”

  Romeo checked his watch. “One time is about to change shifts, so they gotta hit soon. If they’re smart, that is.”

  “If they don’t hit tonight, then Darius, Marcus, Winky, Tre, and Omar will just have to come back tomorrow night,” Robert told them.

  “Do you think they got the word?” Travon asked.

  “Hell yeah!” Lil Fade answered. “That bitch Missy can’t hold water.”

  Romeo, who was seated behind the steering wheel, began tapping on the dashboard excitedly. “Uh-oh, peep this, peep this!”

  A white Cadillac had pulled into the parking lot and was creeping along slowly. The boys watched with a fierce intensity through the van’s tinted windows as the Cadillac parked and its occupants climbed out.

  “Bingo!” Romeo announced.

  Hatred swelled inside of Travon as he watched Quentin creep in between the cars parked in the motel’s parking lot, and make his way up to the motel room. Travon grabbed his .308 Galil assault rifle and tried to exit the van. Capone grabbed him.

  “Tre! Tre! You are gonna fuck things up! Wait!” Capone told him. “We’ll get them all, just like we planned. Just be patient.”

  Lil Fade turned toward Travon. “Don’t fuck things up, Blood.”

  For a brief moment, Travon debated whether he should kill Lil Fade, and just try to catch Quentin another time. In the end, he decided that killing Quentin was more important. He relaxed.

  “Dejuan ain’t with them,” Romeo announced.

  “We know that,” Lil Fade told him. “We got another plan for Dejuan; this is for his boys.”

  “Dejuan ain’t gonna get his hands dirty; he’s a pussy,” Robert Jr. declared. “He just gives the orders, and his brainless followers carry them out.”

  Travon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Robert Jr. had apparently forgotten that Too-Low had been one of Dejuan’s most devoted followers and trusted friends.

  “Well, it looks like he sent Tech Nine, Quentin, Dupriest, Pop, and his brother Shawny to take care of this one,” Romeo announced.

  Capone sat up and watched the boys maneuver the last remaining yards to the motel room. “It’s almost show time. They’re getting ready to kick in the door.”

  “There they go!” Romeo shouted.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Capone shouted, hitting Romeo’s shoulder.

  Romeo started the van and raced through the parking lot, bringing the van to a screeching halt just in front of the motel r
oom door. Lil Fade slid open the van’s huge rear sliding door, and he, Travon, Capone, and Robert Jr. commenced firing.

  The fire from the automatic weapons turned night into day again, and quickly decimated the motel room. Bullets from the boys’ high-powered rifles penetrated the thin motel walls striking wood, drywall, tile, and flesh. Some continued through the first set of walls and penetrated others’ walls, where they struck down unintended victims. When finally the boys had expended all of the rounds from their magazines, they loaded new ones. All with the exception of Lil Fade, who leapt from the van and lobbed a hand grenade into the motel room. As the grenade flew inside, Quentin and Tech Nine flew out. Lil Fade quickly drew his handgun from his waistband and fired four shots into Tech Nine’s back. Tech Nine fell to the ground instantly.

  Lil Fade placed his handgun back in his waistband and leapt back into the van. Romeo hit the gas and pulled away from the motel room, just as the grenade exploded. The section of the building where the explosion detonated was transformed into a gigantic blue-and-orange inferno. The explosion shattered many of the windows of the nearby buildings and cars.

  “Pull around!” Travon shouted.

  Romeo peered over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Pull around!” Travon shouted again.

  “Tre, we gotta go!” Romeo told him.

  Travon lifted Lil Fade’s shirt and snatched the pistol from his waistband. He pointed the weapon at Romeo. “I said, pull around.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Travon spied Capone moving. Using his free hand, he reached over the seat, grabbed Romeo’s pistol from his lap, and then pointed it at Capone.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Capone!”

  Reluctantly, Romeo turned the van around and headed back into the parking lot of the demolished motel.

  “Step on it!” Travon told him.

  Romeo accelerated. They could now see Quentin running through a neighboring field. Travon removed the pistol from Romeo’s head and pointed it toward a sprinting Quentin.