“But these new jack women, they just can’t leave other women’s men alone. She wouldn’t leave that drug dealer alone. It cost her,” Miss Katie said. She got up and walked away from the table.
Coco watched her go to the oven and remove fresh-baked bread. She cut it in two and wrapped one half neatly in foil.
“For you and your family, Coco.” Miss Katie pointed to the wrapped half.
“Thanks,” Coco said. But she wanted to learn more. “Where did they find her?”
“Oh, I thought you had heard the full story,” Miss Katie searched Coco’s expression. “They found them dead together, Bebop and Deja, in his apartment. She had a gun in her hand. Lover’s quarrel. Coco, is you mixed up in anything like…” Miss Katie’s voice trailed as her eyes locked with Coco’s. Coco gazed stonily at Miss Katie. “Coco, I know you are a sweet child. I know you will take care and continue to do so with God’s help.” Miss Katie tendered a caring smile. Coco rose and hugged her.
“Thanks a lot, Ms. Katie. I better head over and see what’s going on,” Coco said.
Some parts of a smile made its way across lips bitter with emotion. She tried to hold back her tears by pursing her lips. She took the wrapped bread. It felt warm to her touch. They embraced again at the front door. Coco was face to face with the elderly lady. She planted a kiss on Miss Katie’s cheek and the tears began to flow. Miss Katie held her as Coco’s body heaved with the burden of her emotional state.
“She was like a sister to me, Miss Katie,” Coco said, her voice crackling with emotion.
“Yeah, I know child. Sometimes there’s a price that we must pay for our sins. Coco, you have to continue with your education. Don’t worry about your mother. She will be alright. She’s been doing a whole lot better,” Miss Katie said.
As Coco neared her own door, her mother flung it open. “Get inside, girl. I heard you bawling your lungs out. Must be for that Miss Hottie, Bebop,” she said. Her motherly face, an expression of seriousness shattered by too much alcohol. She was drunk. There would be no sympathy for Bebop.
“Ma,” Coco said, “You don’t even know what went down. You’re just running off at da mouth.”
“Well she was fucking around wid some other girl’s man from da building. It ain’t as if she didn’t know. I would’ve shot them both dead, too. They probably deserved it.”
“Ma,” Coco lashed out, “Save your theories. I’m gonna go take a shower. Miss Katie sent this over.”
She placed the half-a-loaf of bread in her mother’s hands and walked away.
“Why d’ya have to jump in da shower right after you walk in here? If it’s sex, you better be using rubbers. Don’t be coming up in here wid any pregnancy or HIV bullshit. You little ho.”
Coco vanished into the bathroom, closing the door, seeking solitude and trying to make sense of what had happened. Bebop and Deja were killed together. Did Bebop have a gun? The thought ran counter to the sweetness of the Kool-Aid she had drunk. Here, alone in the bathroom, her mother’s voice rambling loudly in the background. Coco’s thoughts were filled with the way the ugly end of a friend released a bitter taste and left her nauseated.
She turned the shower on and cried again. She did not understand. It just didn’t make sense, any of it. Bebop was alive just a week ago, going to school and taking care of her biz. Now she’s dead in a drug dealer’s apartment.
The shower continued to run. Water sprayed hard on Coco’s head. She stepped out of the shower and shook off the water. Sad thoughts of Bebop’s death clung to the inner parts of her mind, displayed like an upside down flag, clinging to its post in a storm. She couldn’t shake the thoughts. She didn’t even hear the knocking.
“You’ve been in there long enough. What da fuck ‘re ya trying to do, drown yourself? Listen, she deserved what she got. You’re from a different set. Them West Indian gals, drug dealers is what they all about. I know shit. I should know,” Ms. Harvey said, barging into the bathroom. There was a drink in her hand and smoke puff coming out her mouth with her words.
Coco screamed back at her. “Okay, so she wuz wid someone’s man. That’s no reason to kill a person. C’mon, Ma. That’s no reason to put bullets in her.” Coco wept again.
“Well, that’s your generation, yo!” Mrs. Harvey said. She raised the glass, sloshed the drink and smacked her lips. “What is it y’all do?” She said and poured some of her drink into the sink. It left a brown stain. “Peace to those who ain’t wid us,” she mocked. Closing the door, she walked away.
That night, sleep did not come easy for Coco, and in the morning she left the apartment building way too early for school. She could hear the mourner’s chant. Coco strolled away, her bop coming in a hurry. With sadness close at her heels, she sought to escape.
TWELVE
“Check, muthafucka. I got your ass now. Yeah, nigga, you thought you were gonna avoid this one. Make that move so I can take care of that ass. It’s da only move your non-chess-playing-ass got,” Lil’ Long taunted.
Vulcha stared at the chess pieces. He knew Lil’ Long was right. He made his only move.
“Checkmate, nigga,” Lil’ Long yelled. He got up from the table. “Can’t fuck wid da muthafucking Whiz. Four games to zip, kid. Can’t fuck wid me.”
“Ah, lucky streak, nigga,” Vulcha said. “You know that sometimes I be whipping that ass dead, muthafucka.”
“Now when wuz da last time you whip my ass, nigga?”
“You know when. I ain’t got to…”
“Damn. That’s da time, man?” Lil’ Long exclaimed as he looked at the clock.
“Aw, shit. I guess we can’t kill that blackmailing bitch,” Vulcha said.
“Nah, nah, kid, we could hit da bitch on her way to work. Like we wuz gon’ rob her or sump’n,” Lil’ Long said.
“Yo, da bitch is all that,” Vulcha replied.
“Yo, I don’t give a fuck about that shit. We got some BI to handle, dogs” Lil’ Long said.
“Yeah, I’m just saying da bitch is bad,” Vulcha said.
“Which bitch are you fucking dealing wid?” Lil’ Long asked.
“Yo, I wuz talking ‘bout da bitch from da strip joint. Fuck that other bitch. She’s dead and stinking.”
“You talking ‘bout da big - ass bitch? Da one you spent da whole night wid, muthafucka?” Lil’ Long asked. “After two nights, you’re pussy-whipped now?”
“All I’m saying is da bitch is all that,” Vulcha said.
“She must’ve dropped some shit on your ass last night, got your head all fucked up. She ain’t nothing but a ho. You need money to pay that ho.”
“What if she becomes my personal ho? Yeah, I’m gonna make her my personal ho.”
“You on some other shit, kid,” Lil’ Long laughed. “Let’s go bag this blackmailer,” he said, checking his waistband. The nine millimeter was there.
“She goes to the office about now.”
They walked out of Vulcha’s tiny apartment. They had taken two women there from the strip club and spent the night. Both were satisfied now. Lil’ Long held the elevator as Vulcha locked the apartment door.
As the car neared the selected station, they saw their target. She was a beautiful woman who stopped to buy the morning paper like so many other commuters, only she was marked for violent death. She was guilty of blackmailing her ex-lover, who happened to be a rich, respectable family man.
Lil’ Long jumped from the slowing Navigator. The target was leisurely crossing the street. He ran up behind her, grabbed her handbag, and passed her. Instinctively, she ran after him.
“Stop you hoodlum! What are you doing? Thief! Thief,” she called in pursuit. Vulcha blocked her with the Navigator. Lil’ Long hopped in.
“In my quest to become immortal, whole lot a bitches and weak muthafuckas must die,” yelled Lil’ Long. They both opened fire on the surprised woman. The shooting pair riddled her body with holes. Their weapons sprayed even after she fell into a pool of her own blood. Vulcha stepped on t
he accelerator and the vehicle was gone with a screeching of tires as commuters emptied the train station and watched.
“Da bitch wuz like, coming after you, nigga,” Vulcha laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. ‘Stop thief.’ It’s like, bitch, you’re da thief, bitch. Put my mug on muthafucking T-shirts. I’ll be back. Let’s get some food,” said Lil’ Long. Vulcha drove uptown. They laughed all the way, and Lil’ Long continued his tirade.
“You know da deal. Many weak muthafuckas will have to die in my quest. Shit is real, kid.”
“But I’m saying,” Vulcha said as he parked in the diner lot. “I think we should’ve hit da fucking cheating husband, man.”
“Nah, we got the right one. She ain’t paying us, kid. It’s all about them Benjamins,” Lil’ Long said.
“What she had in her purse?”
“Sixty dollars, credit cards, Haltoids, and condoms. I threw that all that shit away already.” Lil’ Long peeled the black gloves off.
“Muthafucka, you just love to come to this spot. Bitch gotcha ass wide open.”
“Nah, nah, da food’s good,” Vulcha said.
“So why we sitting on da side where that bitch be serving?”
“Cuz we gonna get served right. Know wha’ I’m saying?” Vulcha winked. “You might as well take over for her pimp. Da muthafucka probably a old-ass nigga and can’t handle it anyway,” Lil’ Long said and a big grin appeared completely polishing his mug.
As the two settled down to their breakfast, the police asked questions at the train station. The latest victim still lay outside in a pool of blood, the bullet-riddled body contorted on the pavement.
The commuters had not seen much, but had heard her yelling: “Stop thief!” They also heard the sound of gunshots. It could have been one, two or three men, they said. It could have been a robbery. The crime-scene unit moved in. The police were unsure, but leaned toward a robbery motive. Whoever had done it definitely wanted to make sure that the victim identified no one. She herself remained unidentified. Her body had been converted to a bloody pulp by a shower of bullets. She had paid the price. Shortly after the medical examiner arrived, she was pronounced dead.
Vulcha studied the waitress’s plump backside. He puffed slowly at his cigarette. The rings on his fingers clanked as he raised the cigarette to his lips. Lil’ Long got up from the table.
“Yo, you keep dreaming. I’m gonna drain my tank.” He headed for the men’s room. Vulcha watched Kamilla’s body as she moved from table to table. She sensed his gaze and flashed a smile at him.
Lil’ Long returned. “Nigga, you in a daze or bugging out?”
Vulcha came alive. “Yo, she likes me. I’m a get her,” he said.
“Nigga, I told your ass. Girls like that, they always got a man - pimp juicin’ on da side.”
“I’m a give her that pimp juice. She needs a nigga like me. Nah-mean?” “You’re gonna have to get rid of da other old Mackdaddy”, Lil’ Long said as he stood and watched Vulcha peel a hundred dollars from a wad of bills. He left it as a tip. Lil’ Long smiled and shook his head.
“Admit da shit! She gotcha open, kid,” Lil’ Long said as they headed for the exit.
Vulcha stumbled, looking back. Kamilla picked up the hundred, her smile stopped Vulcha in his tracks.
“Will you look where da fuck your ass is going? Think you’re Superman or sump’n, muthafucka? That bitch is like a drug, kid. Damn nig,” Lil’ Long complained. Vulcha was almost smooth driving the Navigator away.
“Let’s go shopping,” Vulcha said.
“No, let’s go get that dough,” Lil’ Long countered. Vulcha drove to the pre-arranged pick-up spot.
THIRTEEN
Uncharacteristically, Coco walked about six miles to the school. Even so, she was early. Sitting on the bench just outside the school, she searched for cigarettes and found none. She stood and started the walk to the shop at the end of the block. Coco paused when the green Range Rover circled and stopped in front of her. Deedee hopped out. Both Eric Ascot and Sophia waved at Coco as Deedee approached.
“Whaz-zup?” Deedee shouted. Her yell shattered the morning air. Birds took refuge in nearby trees. Eric honked, and Deedee waved goodbye.
She must be feeling a lot better, Coco thought.
“What’s popping? I’m going to da corner store, yo,” Coco said.
“I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind,” Deedee chirped.
“Ahight, yo,” Coco said and eased into a leisurely stroll.
“This seems like such a nice morning. I mean, the sunlight, the water on the grass. Damn, how could it be such a nice day?” Deedee lit a cigarette, puffed and passed it to Coco.
“Yeah, yeah, know whatcha mean, yo,” Coco said.
They walked on to the store. Coco bought cigarettes and a Coke. For Deedee, apple juice and chewing gum.
The girls stood outside the store, sipping and smoking. They left as other students descended on the shop. Coco and Deedee walked back toward the school and sat down on a bench.
“Still early,” Deedee said.
Coco nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice trailed off in sadness.
Was Coco’s behavior just early morning blues? Deedee wondered. Maybe she was tired. She knew Coco and the girls had been rehearsing for the talent show finals.
“So, how’s rehearsal?” Deedee asked. Coco nodded again and reached for her cigarettes. She lit one and stared upward, blowing the smoke out slowly. Deedee watched her, and Coco started.
“Life’s some fucked-up shit, yo,” she said.
It occurred to Deedee that her own situation fitted the phrase better than Coco’s.
“Yeah, I know just whatcha mean, Coco.”
“But it could always be worse. No matter what, there’s always gonna be worse,” Coco continued looking away. “I mean, yo…d’ya wanna take a walk?” asked Coco. She paused thoughtfully. “We best chill,” she said. “Cuz I’ll wind up not fucking bothering wid this shit. I need da education, yo.”
They remained on the bench. She lit another cigarette and Deedee joined her.
“You’re alright, yo. Know wha’ I mean?” Coco asked.
Deedee thought about that. “Yeah,” she finally said, not fully understanding. It didn’t seem to matter.
Coco slumped back. “You’re looking better, anyway. But I’m saying the feeling stays with you, yo,” Coco continued. Deedee stared at her, still unsure of exactly what was going on. Then Coco came up with the clarification. “Da feeling of being vick. That shit never leaves, yo. It becomes your fucking shadow, pops up in different situations. You be seeing faces, like it wuz that muthafucka, or this one.”
Deedee listened, dangling her cigarette. She watched Coco’s expression change from sad to anger.
“I know wha’ da shit feels like, yo,” Coco said. “See, I wuz fucking raped. Muthafucka got drunk wid my mom and when he wuz finished wid her, he came for me. My mutha, yo, she tried to fight him, and I did too. That muthafucka was big, yo. He kicked madukes drunken ass and then took mine. Now everyday I just be staring at muthafuckas, having flashbacks. I’m telling you, if I had a gun, that muthafucka would be straight spitting lead. I’m telling you, shits fucked up when I be staring in muthafuckas’ eyes, looking for him, yo. If I ever see his ass… Wha-at! I swear to God, he’s dead, yo.”
Students began entering the school. First they had to pass through the metal detectors. Some waved to Coco. She managed to ignore them and stared off, over the trees.
“I’ll kill a muthafucka like: What? Pow!” Coco summed up a feeling that had haunted her for a long time. Deedee was surprised. She had no idea the morning would bring this revelation. She had planned on going to school, enduring as much of the stares as possible, and leaving early if they got her down. Now, she too would stare back at ‘muthafuckas,’ possibly locating the one who had caused her pain. It was a scary thought. Coco’s grim expression made her realize that things really could be worse.
“Do they know about th
is, too?” Deedee asked when she saw Danielle and Josephine heading toward the bench.
“Nah,” Coco said. “They wouldn’t understand da half. You had to be there like a vick to fully get it, yo.” She got up and greeted the girls.
“What’s popping?” Danielle and Josephine greeted.
“Hi,” Deedee said.
“What’s popping? Besides being late, as usual, yo,” Coco said.
“This crazy girl made me late,” Danielle said.
“I’m telling you, I couldn’t get into da station. They robbed this lady and shot her like twenty times. So da police had the shit blocked off. You should’ve seen all the blood! Yuck! Ugh,” Josephine said.
“Let’s not go inside, y’all. Well, not until later. I mean, fuck it, let’s cut,” said Deedee.
The three girls looked at her, surprise in their stares. Josephine swallowed hard. She and Danielle directed their attention to Coco. She was looking with interest at Deedee.
“Why not?” Coco asked. Deedee noticed a slight smile.
“Yeah, why not?” Danielle and Josephine chorused.
The girls walked hastily to the corner store. Danielle and Josephine bought snacks and cigarettes.
“Just a little juice. My throat is dried out,” Danielle said, leaving the store. She held the straw up to her lips and spoke between sips.
“It’s all that sucking,” Josephine laughed.
The comment caught Danielle off-guard and some of the juice spilled on her chest.
She attempted a smile. “Ah, you just jealous cuz you ain’t got a man like Cory, bitch,” she said. “Speaking of sucking, last week me and Cory were in the park and some crazy ass niggas was running a trizain on this big tittie bitch. Whoa. That nigga had a huge dick. You know the guy from the club with da gold fronts…”
“Ahight…ahight, you think them night gown dresses look good? Josephine asked. “I might get one and I’m daring someone to laugh at my…”
“Oh you ain’t gonna look good in nothing…” Josephine started, Danielle quickly interrupted her.
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