by Cash
The interior of the house was as impressive as the outside. The furniture looked rich and shiny, and the floors were polished like glass. On the walls I saw framed pictures of Juanita and Justice, but not a single picture of my pop. My nose flared.
“Have a seat,” offered Juanita.
Inez accepted the offer, but I remained standing. I didn’t want to sit on that bitch’s perfect sofa.
“Mom, would you like me to get tea or maybe bottled water for the guests?” my half brother asked.
I couldn’t help it; I busted out laughing. What type of dude had Juanita raised? “Bruh, loosen up. Pull your pants down and let ‘em sag off your ass a little. Your swag is all wrong. Don’t you know who our pop was?” I said.
“Pull my pants down like a hoodlum, you mean?”
“I’m sayin’, bruh, they’re up to your chest.” I snickered. “C’mere, let ya big bruh hook you up.” I loosed the lil nigga’s belt and adjusted his pants.
“Justice! Pull your pants up on your behind. You’re not a thug,” Juanita scolded him.
Our pop epitomized a thug. How is she hating on that? I asked myself. And she was from the projects not so long ago. How the fuck did she get all brand new? I could see her wanting the best for Justice, but she was raising a lame. I shook my head.
Justice sat down on the sofa beside Juanita. “So, what warrants this visit?” she asked, looking at the watch on her wrist like she was pressed for time.
I explained our presence.
“Well, if you’ve managed to lose the ashes of your father that I gave you, why would I give you more? It seems you’re not responsible,” said Juanita.
“He didn’t lose them,” Inez said.
“Six in one hand, half a dozen in the other.”
“Come off that high horse and speak English!” Inez snapped. “Don’t make me pull your card.”
“I got this,” I said, jumping back in the conversation. “Juanita, I’ma make this short and simple. ‘Cause for real, my patience is zero. My pop left you a stupid check and instructed you to take care of his children with it—”
“I will, when you demonstrate that you will do the right thing. I’ve told you this before.”
“I’m not demonstrating a damn thing. I don’t need you to take care of me. But what about my sisters?”
“I’ve set up trust funds for each of you.”
“Did you set up a trust fund for me when I was in prison and you wouldn’t even send me commissary money?” Inez said. “Didn’t Youngblood trust you to do that?”
Juanita said nothing.
I cut straight to the chase. “All we want is my pop’s ashes. Now, we can do this the simple way or it can get ugly. Don’t make me leave here today with your blood all over me.”
Juanita seemed to weigh my seriousness and her conclusion saved her life. She went into another room and returned with a black porcelain urn. “Take it and go! And please stay out of our lives!” she said as she shoved the urn into my hands.
I grilled her, but my mission was complete. Fuck everything else. I locked eyes with Justice, who was about ten or eleven years old. “It ain’t even about you, lil dude,” I said.
At the door, Inez half spun and gave it to Juanita. “Queen Africa, huh? Ain’t that the shit you was kicking when Youngblood was alive? You were supposed to keep his tribe together. Didn’t you vow to do that? Bitch, you’re a fraudulent ass ho, and I never liked you in the first place.”
WHOP!
She punched Juanita dead in the mouth, knocking her on her high-class ass. “That’s for stealing my man. And this is for mistreating his children!” She kicked that bitch in her side.
Juanita grabbed a hold of Inez’s leg and pulled her down. They rolled on the floor of the vestibule tearing into each other like two felines, but Juanita was a Persian while Inez was an alley cat. “Bitch, all I did was fight when I was locked up,” Inez said as she got on top of Juanita and pinned her down.
“Get up off of my mother!” cried Justice, trying to intervene.
I snatched his lil ass up and said, “Fall back before I make change.”
I held him in a firm but non-violent chokehold while Inez punched his bougie mama in the nose several times. When she stood up, Juanita’s blood was all over her blouse. “Don’t make me fly back out here to get another piece of your high yellow ass!” Inez huffed.
I let go of Justice and smirked down at Juanita, who had finally gotten the beatdown that she deserved.
Justice dashed upstairs in a huff. I guessed that his soft ass was going to cry on his pillow or something. A minute or so later, he returned with a banger in his hand. He pointed it at Inez first, then trained the banger on me. The little nigga didn't utter a single threat, he just stood there trembling with fury. His eyes were slits and his jaw was set so that his mouth was a tight line. He seemed ready to pop that toolie.
I smiled because baby bruh was finally letting his nuts hang; our pop’s blood had risen to the top.
“Justice, you put that gun down, right now!” barked Juanita.
Justice grilled me for a full minute before letting his arm drop to his side.
The tension in the room quickly evaporated. Inez looked at Juanita and Juanita lowered her eyes.
A fresh ass whooping seemed to soften Juanita’s whole attitude. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t remain as strong as you,” she blurted out to Inez. “I tried, but holding on to those memories and the love I had for Youngblood was affecting my health. Remember, I was right there when they put him to death.” Tears streamed down Juanita’s face.
I felt a little sorry for her. She looked at us both with pleading eyes. “If I hadn’t let go the grief would have killed me,” she said.
Inez had heard enough, she turned and walked off to the car.
“Lil T, will you please forgive me?” Juanita asked tearfully.
“I’ll try.” That was the best I could do.
CHAPTER 28
Back in the ‘A’ I dropped ninety bands on a new platinum chain and urn. Now my swag felt complete again. I made my rounds checking on Eryka, Chanté, and Tamia. I poured some of our father’s ashes into each of their small urns and watched them proudly rock their chains. Now it was back to the streets.
I collected taxes without trouble. By now, all but the most foolish niggas knew that it was cheaper to pay me than to bury their whole squads. I was on Moreland, about to put my press game down on this new spot, when two cars whipped up on me. My banger was out in a flash. “Nah homie, it ain’t like that. We come in peace. We’re Criminal’s family.”
They stepped out of vehicles empty handed. I kept my eyes on them and saw the GF tats on their faces and I relaxed a bit.
Long story short, they wanted to recruit me into the GF to help out in a serious beef they had with a clique of esés—Mexican thugs.
“Real talk, I’ll slump an esé on GP. But I can’t fuck with your offer right now; I got my own thing going on.” I declined.
“I respect that,” said the one doing the talking.
I spoke to the one who looked familiar. “What’s good, lil homie? I’m Trouble.”
“I know who you are, fam’. I went on a lick with you and Criminal. Real recognize real.”
“True. Listen, I can’t get down with y’all on no clique shit, but if shit gets too hot, hit me up and I’ll drop a few of those bitch ass Mexicans. They ain’t running the ‘A’; they better take that shit back to Cali, Texas, or wherever else niggas let ‘em regulate. This the Dirty; we’ll eat their lil short asses alive.”
I gave him my number to lock into his phone. “Real recognize real,” I said.
We touched fists and I left there imagining the fierce team GF would be if I joined their ranks.
Those thoughts didn’t linger long. The next night I donned a ski mask and kicked in the door of one of Zeke’s stash houses that I had learned about. “Oh Jesus! Please don’t hurt me,” pleaded the gray haired elderly woman whose face my ban
ger was pointed in. Then she started hyperventilating.
“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you force me to. Would you like a glass of water?” I asked.
“Yes . . . please.”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
“Back that a way.” She pointed.
I had been watching the house for days, so I knew that she lived alone. I turned my head in the direction she pointed for a split second, and granny had a .45 shoved into my spine. “Drop that damn gun or I’ll cripple you for life,” she threatened.
I stalled for a minute. “Drop it!” she hissed.
“No, you drop yours!” Criminal’s voice came from behind Grandma.
That distracted her for a pause. I turned, grabbed her wrist and easily wrestled the gun away from her. “You slick ass old bitch!” I barked, and knocked her on her ass. Criminal pointed the banger down at granny’s head.
“No, bruh!” my voice boomed. “You gotta respect grandma’s gangsta.” I tossed him the duct tape. “Tape her up so she don’t pull nothing else out from under that house coat.”
Once granny saw that she had no win, she gave us no more problems. We left there with twelve bricks and twenty pounds of Kush, but found no dough.
“Now you see why I watch your back.” Criminal pointed out to me. “Grandma almost caught you slippin’.”
“Yeah, she did,” I said as we split up the lick.
****
I hit Manky with three of the bricks on consignment and sold my other three to Tommy Gun. All of the Kush besides what I kept for my personal use went to Inez, free of charge. She had clientele that she had been serving for years, dating back to when my pop was alive.
While I was at the house, Fat Stan drove up to pick up Bianca. He didn’t come inside; he waited outside in his car. Bianca was in her room getting dressed. Tamia was on the phone with Eryka. I hopped up and headed for the door. “Lil T, what are you about to do?” asked Inez, looking alarmed.
“Going to go find out what’s on this nigga’s mind,” I replied. I was out before she could try and stop me.
I saw fear in his eyes when I got to his car. A scared nigga will murk you fast, though. So I wasn’t slippin’. My shit was in my hand, already click-clacked. I wasn’t trying to chump the nigga, but neither was I gonna tip toe around him. If he wanted some payback, we could set it off right now.
“You got something you wanna settle with me?” I confronted him, straight up, no chaser.
“Nawl, I just came to take my daughter to get her driver’s license. I’m through with all that.”
“You sure? ‘Cause we can do it here and now and get it over with.”
“Like I said, I’m through with it.”
I eyeballed the nigga, trying read him.
“Hey Daddy. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Bianca’s voice broke my glare. She climbed in the car with Fat Stan and they backed out of the driveway and drove off.
I went back inside to kick it with Inez and Tamia. We played different games on the Wii until the sun went down. Then Inez made some shrimp fried rice. We ate while watching American Gangster on DVD. In the middle of the movie, we heard a car pull up to the house. “That’s probably Bianca. Tamia, go open the door for your sister,” said Inez and Tamia sauntered off.
A burst of gunshots tattered the front door and shattered the picture window. Tamia screamed. I jumped up and tackled her to the floor, and then pulled her away from the gunfire. “Y’all stay down!” I barked as I ran towards the back door.
I hopped down the stairs of the back porch in one leap. I bent the corner of the house, bustin’off with my toolie at the dark vehicle that had just pulled off. “Nawl, bitch muthafuckas, don’t run now!”
BOC! BOC! BOC! BOC! BOC! I blasted at its taillights.
Once the car was out of sight, I hurried back inside to check on Tamia and Inez. They both were unharmed, but Tamia was crying and she had peed on herself. “Look, I gotta bounce before the po-po’s arrive. Don’t stay here tonight. Go get a room somewhere and call me and let me know where y’all are,” I told Inez.
On my way to my car, I said to myself, “So that’s how he wanna play it, huh? Nigga just buried his goddamn self.”
If I wasn’t living it I would’ve sworn it was a movie. Everywhere I went guns went off! Didn’t niggas know that if they aimed at me and missed, I was coming back at ‘em with a vengeance? Didn’t they know that I go hard in the muthafuckin’ paint!
“Yo, what’s going on, lil soldier?” asked Swag, calling from Brooklyn, where he had gone to record something for Jigga. I assured him it was nothing that I couldn’t handle.
“Just the hand I’ve been dealt,” I added.
“True that. But you can play it how you choose. Can’t you see that your luck is beginning to run out? How many more times do you think the bullet will miss you?”
“Fam’, I’m synonymous with death.” I brushed off the lecture.
“I hear all that slick shit, pimp. And I believe you really don’t care nothing about dying young, but others around you might wanna live. What if Inez or Tamia would’ve caught a bullet? Haven’t you learned anything from what happened to Poochie and your sister?” His words hit me like a punch in the face.
“Nigga, you must want me to come through this phone,” I shot back.
“Dog, ain’t no bitch in me. I’m just giving it to you raw. What? The truth hurts?”
“I guess it does,” I reluctantly admitted before hitting the END button.
I hit Inez up and told her to go house shopping. We argued back and forth because she felt that moving would be allowing someone to make her tuck her tail and run. “Ain’t nobody did that shit but Stan’s fat ass. I’m not letting him make me catch out.” She stood firm. So I knew what had to be done immediately.
The night was quiet and still, but I was out on the prowl. No ski mask. So you know what that meant. I creeped his fat ass getting out of his Suburban in front of his mama’s crib in Oakland City. “Guess who’s behind this tree?” I taunted as I jumped out shoving the sawed off under his chin.
“Lord have mercy!” He damn near fainted.
“The Lord might have mercy for ya fat ass but I don’t,” I said. “Watch how high I blow the top of your head.”
BOOM!
He would not get a second chance to gun at me.
****
Inez didn’t attend Fat Stan’s funeral. That caused instant problems between her and Bianca. Compounding the trouble, Fat Stan’s mother was screaming to everyone who would listen, “She knows who killed my son.” Detectives snatched Inez up and took her downtown to interrogate her. Tamia called me crying, afraid her mother wasn’t going to be released. Ava and I went over there to calm her down. When we arrived, Bianca wouldn’t let us in.
“Go away! I know you killed my father!” she screamed at me through the door.
A few seconds later, I heard her and Tamia thumping like cats and dogs. I broke a window, climbed inside and broke them apart. Tamia looked to be the most tore up of the two, but she wanted another piece of her sister’s ass. That was our pop’s blood in her veins. Bianca screamed, “I hate all of you!”—and ran out the front door. I sent Ava to bring her back, but she could not find her.
Inez returned an hour later and we told her what had happened. “She’s probably over his mother’s house or with her boyfriend,” she guessed. Bianca had started dating a year ago when she turned sixteen.
Inez called several numbers in search of Bianca, but no one had seen her. Inez wasn’t really worried. She said that Bianca would come back home when she calmed down.
Inez walked us to the car and told me how the detectives tried to press her. “Do you wanna go back to prison? That’s what they kept asking me. I told them that they better check a bitch’s file.”
“They don’t know,” I agreed.
“Anyway, I feel like they’ll be watching me now. So you can hook me up with that house.”
“I got you. Just le
t me know when you find one you like.” With that, I hugged Inez and told her to get busy with the house search.
“I’m jealous,” Ava whined once we were in the car.
I told her that I was going to buy her a mansion one day.
“All I need is you,” she purred.
“You just want me to hit it,” I teased.
“You know me too dang well.” She smiled and then sucked her teeth.
A couple hours later, the wail of my cell phone woke me up from the good pussy coma I was in. Ava’s thigh was drapped across my leg, and her head was buried in my chest. Her hand was still wrapped around my dick like it was too precious to let go. I had put it on her ass good last night. “Hello?” I answered the phone without looking at the number.
“Fam’, what’s poppin’?”
“Who dis?”
“Criminal, bruh.”
“Oh, what it do?”
“Come fuck with me. I got something to tell you. Real talk.”
“I’ll meet you at Greenbriar,” I said.
“That’s wassup. One,” he agreed.
“One.”
I woke Ava up with a kiss, stanking breath and all. She whined about me getting out of bed, but understood once I told her the business.
I hopped in and out the shower in fifteen minutes flat. It was warm outside—beast season—so I just threw on a pair of cargo shorts, T-shirt and some throwback Jordans, and then accentuated my look with my chain, of course. I had cut off my dreads and rocked a short faded Mohawk with designs on the sides. That was the style, and although I was skeptical of rocking it at first, a nigga’s swag was on a milli when I tried it for myself. I kissed shawdy goodbye, then bounced.
When I got to Greenbriar, Criminal was already parked where he knew I would come. I wondered what bruh wanted to holla at me about. He got out his whip and slid into the passenger seat of my whip. “What’s it shaking like?” I greeted him.
“Money, murder and mayhem,” he proclaimed.
“I’ma bend a few corners while we talk. Is your truck gonna be good right there?” I asked.
“Niggas know better,” he stated simply.