“Malik, we found your girl and Rishon. Homeboy was hiding under the bed. Man, come on up to 412.”
Malik and Nes walked up the stairs to the fourth floor. They found the door.
“In here,” said the man who called out to Malik.
He was standing in the doorway as they approached the apartment. Nes walked in the door followed by Malik. When they entered, Rishon and Elaine were sitting on the couch. Big-O held a pistol pointing directly at Rishon’s head.
“If it ain’t the gangster Rishon,” laughed Malik. “What’s good, cat? I hear your bitch-ass was hiding under the bed. It figures,” said Malik. Smiling and turning to Elaine, he asked, “Hey baby, are you alright, sweetheart?”
Elaine jumped at the chance to come out of this not only unharmed, but ahead of the game. She started her act, doing what she did best. Elaine jumped up and ran into Malik’s arms and started weeping.
“Oh, baby, I’m so glad to see you. I wanted to come home long ago, baby. But Rishon, he just wouldn’t let me leave,” said Elaine, looking into Malik’s eyes. She wanted to see if he was buying her story. “Oh baby, I miss you so much. Please just get me out of here and take me home.”
Big-O looked at Nes and AG. It was clear that they were not buying the act but remained silent and kept listening.
“Okay boo, you’re safe now. I miss you so much,” said Malik kissing his wife.
She passionately returned his kiss. Rishon looked on in disbelief before finally opening his mouth.
“You bitch! That’s some grimy shit. You came here on your own. I ain’t surprised at this slick shit you pulling. My sister tried to warn me about trying to turn a ho’ into a damn housewife,” said Rishon. There was anger and shame mixed in with his drunken high. He let it all out when he continued. “Yo Malik, you can keep that grimy ho’. When you kiss her, tell me if you can taste my cum in your mouth, nigga. Ha, ha, ha…”
Malik lost his mind. He walked over to the couch and put six shots in Rishon’s head. Then he spat a gobble of saliva on the bloody body. Malik grabbed Elaine’s hand and walked her out of the apartment and down into the courtyard.
“Malik, what you want us to do with the rest of these people that’s still hiding in their apartments?” asked AG, coming down the stairs.
“It’s all over. Let them burn, baby. I really don’t care. I got what I came for,” said Malik, looking at Elaine.
Nes, Big-O and AG stood in the courtyard. They saw residents running up and down grabbing their children and valuables. Finally they piled out of the burning building in tears. They watched the building slowly going up in flames.
In the distance, the sound of fire engines and police sirens made them look at each other before Big-O broke the silence.
“Yo, man, this mess was some real bullshit. We lost our boy and some good men over what, a stripper? I hope that nigga is happy now. He got his. Everyone else lost tonight, except that selfish-ass Malik.”
Chapter 10
“Here’s to Hill and all the other fallen soldiers.”
Big-O, Nes and A.G. lifted their glasses, toasting their dead friends. It was one year to the day since the siege on Stevenson Commons. The crew had come together to remember their boys. They were holding a remembrance vigil in the back room at a Harlem Bar and Grill, awaiting Malik’s arrival.
“Baby, where’s my blue gators?” asked Malik while getting dressed to meet up with his boys.
Elaine was breastfeeding her three-month-old baby. Shortly after Malik and Elaine came home after the Bronx ordeal, she discovered that she was pregnant. Malik couldn’t have been happier at first, but shortly after the baby was born Elaine became cold and indifferent. She hardly spoke to Malik and he was getting annoyed with her newfound attitude.
“You hear me Elaine? Where my gators at…?”
“How the hell should I know? Can’t you see that I’m feeding my baby?”
Malik went to the closet to get a shirt. The shirt he wanted to wear was wrinkled and he looked at Elaine.
“Didn’t I ask you to iron this shirt for me? Damn, you don’t cook, clean, you don’t do shit but sit on your ass all day. And when I ask for one little favor I can’t even get that. Your ass is so useless,” said Malik, walking to the couch to see his son.
He reached out to take him and Elaine pulled the baby away saying, “Can’t you see that I’m feeding him? Don’t you have somewhere to go?”
“I can’t believe I went to war over a fucking useless bitch like you,” said Malik.
He was feeling totally disrespected with the abuse metered out by his wife and let Elaine have it. Before Malik could walk away, Elaine shot back her own venomous remark.
“Nigga, no one told you to come after me. I was fine where I was at. I ain’t your domestic help. So if that’s what you expected when you married me, then you buggin’. I’m not the one,” said Elaine, looking at Malik with hatred in her eyes then she threw the final blow. “Shit, Rishon never asked me to cook and clean. He was just happy hitting this bomb ass puss…”
She didn’t get a chance to finish. Malik punched Elaine straight in the mouth. She toppled to the floor and the baby fell harmlessly on the couch. Malik picked up his son and took him to his room, placing him in the crib. He returned to the living room and saw Elaine standing there holding her jaw. When she felt in her mouth and realized that several of her teeth were missing, Elaine flipped. Jumping on Malik, she punched him and kicked him, swinging like a mad woman.
Malik’s rage was blinded by Elaine’s verbal and emotional abuse since his son’s birth. He started fighting Elaine as if she was a man, punching her repeatedly, and stomping her when she was down on the ground. Elaine was a bloody mess after the fisticuffs was over. She had a broken nose, busted lips, one eye was closed shut, and she had lost three teeth. Her trademark beauty was shattered.
Malik calmly got dressed and started walking to the door after beating his wife half to death. Before he could leave, Elaine lying on the living room floor slurred out her last comment to her husband.
“You’re gonna pay for this, nigga. Believe that,” snarled Elaine in an acid-laced tone.
Malik turned around and smiled before closing the door. He walked away feeling confident.
“Where is Malik? Everyone’s getting ready to leave. Just like him to show up late even to honor his boy. That selfish muthafucka!” said AG with contempt.
AG never really forgave Malik for getting them involved in the Stevenson Commons drama, and he secretly blamed Malik for Hill’s death.
“He’ll be here, man. Plus this is really a time for us to look back and remember Hill and our boys who are not here with us. These freeloaders are just here for food and liquor, let ‘em breakout,” argued Nes, bidding goodbye to chicks he knew.
Later they sat at a table and a waitress came over with a cordless phone.
“There’s a call for you AG. It’s a woman, but she don’t wanna give her name.”
“Probably one of your bitches, pimp,” teased Big-O, pouring another drink.
“Hello, yeah, this is AG. Who is… Oh, what’s up? Malik ain’t here. I’ll…” said AG followed by a long silence.
AG listened to the conversation coming from the caller. His expression slowly started to change. His boys all noticed and started to get curious. AG continued listening for a few more minutes before saying, “Yeah, okay, good looking. I kinda always figured that was the real, but thanks for confirming it for me. Peace.”
Hanging up the phone, AG spun around and was furious. “Well, my brothers, it’s like I figured.”
“Like you figured? What you talking about, A?” questioned Nes.
“Your boy set us up from the word go, that’s what’s up. That was Elaine on the phone. She was never kidnapped. She went to Rishon on her own. All that shit about bringing her back from a kidnapping and the back door being broken into was bullshit. That bastard played us and caused us to go to war to bring back a ho’ who didn’t even want to
be rescued.”
They all sat stunned, listening to AG. Hearing all what he had to say Big-O rubbed his bald head before answering.
“Hold up. You tellin’ me that we risked our lives and brothers lost their lives, over some jealousy bullshit and lies. Please tell me that’s not what you saying, AG?”
“That’s exactly what he’s saying, Big-O. It’s funny but I think we all had our suspicions from the jump. Yeah, that nigga, Malik, played us good and we lost our boy Hill because of it,” said Nes, pausing to get his thoughts together.
“I don’t know what y’all thinking, but I know what I’m thinking,” said a now angry AG.
The men sat discussing and arguing the importance of the new information. They started their conversation undecided, but as the liquor and their tempers kept flowing they came to a unanimous but painful decision.
“Sorry I’m late cats. I had to take care of some shit at home. Where’s my drink?” asked Malik, walking in and strolling to the bar. “What you drinking, playa?” asked Nes from behind the bar.
“This cat is down for that Hen dog. Let’s get this party started right,” laughed Malik.
“Started, brother this shit started hours ago. But it’s definitely about to be over. Yo Malik, we just got the strangest phone call from a friend. And what’s funny is the call came on the anniversary of Hill’s death,” said AG to Malik, moving closer to him.
“What’s so funny about a call tonight?” asked Malik, feeling a little jittery without fully understanding the reason.
“It’s funny because Elaine shed some light as to what the beef at Stevenson Commons last year was really about,” said AG.
Malik gulped his drink and looked at Big-O then heard the bolt to the back door being locked. He looked at Nes and AG. They both had him surrounded and their intentions were clear. Malik took another swig, closing his eyes and said, “Damn, I guess I fucked up.
Elaine called her girlfriend who took her to the emergency room at Westchester Community Hospital. She had several injuries but none were life threatening, because of internal bleeding, Elaine remained in the hospital for three days under doctor’s observation.
She went home to pack her bags, and leave Malik when she was finally released from the hospital. Elaine was a street-smart hustler, and was not leaving empty-handed. She cleaned out Malik’s safe and took all his money and jewelry then packed her own personal belongings. Elaine went to her son’s room and packed his clothes. Her son had been staying at her aunt’s house while she was in the hospital. She picked him up on her way home.
“Baby, we’re gonna start a new life, just me and you. I love you, and I promise to always love and cherish you no matter what” said Elaine, kissing her baby and picking him up. “Before we leave town, I want you to meet somebody.”
Elaine left the house Malik bought her for the last time. She drove with her baby to a new but uncertain life.
“Here we are. Before we left, I needed you to meet your real father. Say hello to your daddy.”
Elaine looked at the headstone and said, “This is your baby boy. I just wanted you to see him before we left.” Elaine paused for a moment, wiping her eyes then said, “Say goodbye daddy.”
Elaine started to walk away from the gravesite that she and her baby visited. She headed out of the cemetery and bundled up her baby boy, kissing him softly on the cheek. “You look so much like your handsome father. I love you so much. Come on, Heckie, let’s go.”
THE END
About the author
The author Stephen Hewett, a forty-four year old native New Yorker of Jamaican decent was raised in the Bronx. Early years found Hewett spending most of his childhood in Kingston with his grandmother. During his adolescent years, Hewett attended Catholic schools in NY, and did very well in his academic studies. The eighties brought the appeal of street life to many of his peers. Stephen Hewett was no exception. He started hustlin’ in midtown Manhattan after high school. Although Hewett attended college and raised a family, his illegal activities caused him several years of incarceration and hardships.
You’ll never take me alive copper…
Well they did take me alive, and they took away my freedom, my loot and many valuable years with my family. They say everything happens for a reason, I truly believe that the reason I went to prison besides my obvious criminal behavior, was so I could and should start writing. Prisoners choose to do their time in many different ways. They cope with the stressful everyday drama by engaging in various outlets. Some prisoners take out their frustrations in the gym, others play the yard all day. You have those who take to the law books to work on their appeals. You even have the less enthusiastic prisoners who watch BET or the stories all day. Although I spent many years getting my body in shape, I also spent the same amount of time getting my literary works in shape. With books, poems and greeting cards in the stash, I emerged from the federal prison system to reclaim my freedom and family. I am ready to start hustling again, but this time I will hustle a safer and long term product, my mind and my talent to write…
Stephen Hewett
Contact the author at
www.streetlitreview.com and [email protected]
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