by K'wan
“Cut it out, Trudy. I keep telling you that the gift is for my friend’s kid. It’s her birthday,” Oscar reminded her.
“A likely story,” Trudy said with a roll of her eyes. “If that’s the case, why don’t you just get her an H&M gift card? All teenage girls seem to dig that store,” she said sarcastically.
Oscar looked at her as if the suggestion was laughable. “You don’t insult the most powerful man in the city by simply getting his daughter a gift card. Now get your ass over here and help me, or jump in a cab so I can call a more useful bitch to do what you can’t,” he barked.
Fifteen minutes later, Oscar and Trudy were leaving the store and the two bodyguards were weighted down with bags. Trudy helped Oscar pick out a couple of nice dresses, some shoes that he thought were atrocious, and a handbag that had a price tag equal to a mortgage payment. Oscar felt robbed with no gun, but Trudy assured him that Pearl would love the gifts. Considering that Trudy and Pearl were nearly the same age, he took her at her word. Of course, Trudy made sure he dropped a few racks getting her some things too, but for what he would make her do in the bedroom later, Oscar could stand the hit. One of the bodyguards went to fetch the car, leaving the other to guard over Oscar and Trudy, who were standing in front of the store.
Trudy was bumping her gums about something Oscar didn’t catch because he was too busy looking over his cache of purchases. He had blown way more than he had planned to when he walked in the store, but he looked at it as an insurance policy. Things had gotten tense on the streets of New York over the last few months. There was a mysterious group of wild-ass outlaws overthrowing organizations and gobbling up city blocks like locusts in a wheat field. No one knew too much about them other than they were good at creating headaches. More than a few of Oscar’s old clients had closed up shop, leaving the few who were still operational as Oscar’s only lifelines. It was in his best interest to keep his big spenders happy, which is why he reluctantly went all out for Big Stone’s daughter in hopes that the crime boss would recognize it and keep Oscar in his favor.
Oscar whipped out his phone and was about to text his barber to see if he could get a walk-in appointment, when a familiar melody gave him pause. He strained his ears to make sure they weren’t deceiving him, and grasped on to a single horn playing “Goin’ up Yonder.” His mother would always sing it to him as a child. The song was one of the few positive memories he had from that period in his life. His eyes swept the block for the source of the music and he found it a few feet away from the store entrance. A young girl sat perched on a milk crate, pouring her soul through a dinged-up brass horn while a generous few tossed coins or the occasional dollar into the shoe box at her feet. With her hair in two French braids and doe-like eyes she didn’t appear to be older than her teens, but she played the horn like someone who had been around far longer. There was a pain in her music that was so deep Oscar felt obligated to drop a hundred-dollar bill into the shoe box.
The girl stopped when she noticed the denomination of the bill, snatched it up, and stuffed it into the pocket of her tight jeans. “Bless your heart, mister.” She looked at him with thankful eyes. “Me and my six little brothers and sisters will be able to eat for at least two weeks off this!” she said in a deep southern accent.
“You keep playing that horn the way you do and one day you’re gonna be somebody great, kid,” Oscar told her sincerely. Just then the bodyguard pulled to the curb in a big black SUV. The second bodyguard popped the back door open and held it for Oscar and Trudy. Oscar was leading Trudy to the vehicle when the girl stopped him.
“Boss man, you been so kind to me, I’d like to repay you if I can. Allow me to see you off with a song,” the girl offered.
Trudy sucked her teeth. “You already gave this little tramp a hundred dollars and she still trying to squeeze you for more?”
“Oh no, this one is on me, ma’am. It’s a pretty little tune that I think you especially will enjoy.” The girl pursed the horn to her lips and began to play “Farewell, My Friend.”
Oscar was so enthralled by the girl and her beautiful horn playing that he never noticed the beat-up white station wagon inching up and blocking their SUV. The bodyguard behind the wheel honked the horn in frustration, barking at the station wagon to move. In reply the back window rolled down and someone poked the barrel of a shotgun out of it.
All eyes turned to the sound of the shotgun being fired. Lead pellets smashed through the windshield and peppered the face of the bodyguard who had been behind the wheel. Time seemed to slow, as Oscar watched the bodyguard spill from the SUV, clutching his ruined face. From the wagon hopped two men wearing ski masks. The lead man was tall and slender, and moved with the grace and speed of a cat. He leapt atop the car and hit the first bodyguard twice more in the back, finishing him. The second was squat with shoulders as wide as a small sedan. Though a mask covered his face, it couldn’t contain the thick beard poking out through the mouth hole. Still armed with the smoking shotgun, he lumbered toward Oscar.
“The devil come to collect his due.” The bearded masked man sneered, cocking the slide of the shotgun.
The second bodyguard wouldn’t be taken down so easily. He drew a big .357 and let it rock with abandon. One of the powerful shells hit the slender masked man, knocking him off the car and evening the odds. With him out of the way the bodyguard turned his attention to the one with the shotgun. He’d just got him in his sights when the girl who had been playing for them stepped into his line of fire. The bodyguard hesitated, which would cost him. With a twist, she yanked the mouthpiece of her brass horn free, and drove the stiletto hidden inside into the bodyguard’s throat.
At the sight of the two dead men Trudy let out a high, shrill cry; until then Oscar had forgotten she was even there. She was clearly terrified, and seemed rooted to the spot with fear. Oscar had no such hang-ups. Leaving Trudy to whatever fate had in store for her, he bolted. He figured if he could make it back inside the crowded department store the killers would be less likely to gun him down.
As Oscar was trying to make his way back into the department store, someone was coming out. Oscar was moving so fast that he ran smack into the young man. When Oscar felt the Kevlar vest beneath his hoodie a chill ran down his spine. The lower half of the young man’s face was covered by a red bandanna, but Oscar could see his eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a killer; in fact they seemed almost remorseful over the tragedy that was about to befall Oscar. That didn’t change what had to happen and they both knew it. With an empathetic nod, he ended it quickly for Oscar by putting a bullet in his heart. Oscar’s body had barely hit the ground before his killer was out the department store doors.
* * *
It took everything Domo had to keep up his brisk pace and not break into a run. At least two dozen people had seen him shoot Oscar in the doorway. Though the bandanna covered his face, he couldn’t help but feel like all the witnesses knew exactly who he was. It wasn’t supposed to have gone like this. He was simply there as backup while Buda and Willie did the wet work, but once again he found himself thrust into the role of executioner. Since he had started running with the pirates it seemed to happen to him more often, and he was starting to care less. Just as Vita had promised, delivering death had started to feel like a part of the job and it troubled him.
When he made it outside he found that Buda had made a mess, as was his MO. Two men laid dead on the ground, and a girl with big fake tits was huddled in the corner screaming her head off. On the street Vita was helping Willie to his feet and into the car, where Lucky drummed his fingers on the wheel nervously. From the way Willie clutched at his chest it looked like he had taken one during the firefight. Everything had gone to shit and Domo was standing in the middle of the heaping pile.
“You take care of the old man?” Buda approached. The mask still covered his face, but his beard gave him away.
“He’s laundered his last dollar,” Domo assured him.
“Good kid.” Buda s
lapped him on the back with his meaty paw. “This crew might make a man of you yet. Dust this yelling bitch so we can get out of here.”
“Wait … I haven’t seen your faces and I swear I won’t tell anyone.” Trudy regained her composure enough to plead for her life.
“Yeah, but you know our names. Ain’t that right, Domo?” Buda asked slyly.
Domo gave him a look. He knew what was happening. Buda was trying to back him into a corner and force his hand, but Domo wouldn’t be bullied. “Fuck that. I murked Oscar, but I ain’t killing no female.”
For a few ticks the two men stood there glaring at each other. It was a test of wills. When it finally looked like Buda was going to back down, he surprised Domo by snatching his gun out of his hand. Before Domo could offer up any sort of protest, Buda shot Trudy in the forehead. He then turned the gun on Domo. “When I tell you to shoot a muthafucka, you better put a hole in them or I’m gonna put a hole in you. We clear?”
Domo’s jaw tightened. “Crystal.”
CHAPTER THREE
Asia stood wide-legged with one foot slightly in front of the other. She was finding her balance. Her arms were outstretched and locked at the elbows. She had practiced the positon many times, but each time felt like the first. She measured her breaths, in and out, until she found a rhythm. The Glock in her hand was heavier than the small nine-millimeter she was used to shooting with so she had to adjust her grip to compensate for the weight. She cleared her mind of everything except what she was aiming at and tapped the trigger.
“Much better,” her boyfriend, Knowledge, said and stepped away from her; he had been watching her intently.
“I don’t feel like I did anything different.” Asia sat the gun on the table in front of her and removed the earmuffs.
“That’s because it’s becoming more natural to you.” Knowledge hit the button to retrieve the paper target. “You see,” he pointed at a hole that was an inch or two above where the heart would’ve been if the man was made of flesh instead of paper, “you’re to get your whole body in sync with the gun instead of just your eyes. You’re compensating for kick and trajectory so it’s helping with your aim.”
“But I still didn’t hit the bull’s-eye.” Asia pouted.
“Because there’s a part of you that’s still fighting against it.” Knowledge hooked in a fresh target and hit the button to send it back. He kept going until it was twice the distance from where Asia had been shooting. He picked up the gun and took aim. Knowledge drew in a breath and squeezed the trigger as he let it out. The gun boomed four times, flicking the target this way and that. When he pulled the target back there were four evenly spaced holes in the face of the paper man. “It’s like a battle between what your body wants to do instinctively versus what you’re being taught.”
“You’re always showing off.” Asia nudged him playfully.
“I’m not showing off, just making sure my lady is armed with all the necessary skills to make it in life,” Knowledge told her.
“I highly doubt I’ll be firing up anything but a stove in culinary school.” Asia laughed.
“My baby, the world-famous chef.” Knowledge hugged her close to him.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. First I have to graduate and then I’ll probably have to slave on someone’s line in a restaurant for at least a year before I can even start thinking that far ahead,” Asia told him.
“Not if I buy you your own restaurant.”
“You’ve been saying that for years, Knowledge.”
“That’s because I mean it, boo. I’ve been putting in overtime stacking this bread up so we can bring that dream of yours to fruition. You’ve been holding me down for years, so it’s only right that now I’m starting to get my weight up I return the favor,” Knowledge said seriously.
“I have been with you since you were a nappy-headed little devil out in the streets causing all kinds of hell,” Asia joked.
“Girl, you bugging. My head ain’t never been nappy!” Knowledge declared, snatching off his Yankee fitted and running his hand over his waves.
“Hey, do you remember when we first met? You worked your ass off to get my phone number.”
“Yup, to this day you’re the first and only woman I’ve ever gone to jail for.”
* * *
It had been roughly five years ago when Knowledge first met Asia. Back then he was still hustling corners for Big Stone, but was fast making his way up the criminal ladder. He had been on the block hustling all day with his friends without eating so they all decided to go to McDonald’s. Asia was working there at the time as a cashier. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew he had to have her and so he pushed up.
Knowledge cut in front of five people on the line and ambled up to the counter, where Asia was taking someone’s order. “What up, shorty? You know you way too fine to be in here flipping burgers,” he capped.
Asia paused long enough to roll her eyes at him and reply, “And what should I be doing? Hanging out with your dusty ass smoking weed? You know you reek of it, don’t you?” She went back to helping her customer.
Knowledge sniffed his shirt. “C’mon, I ain’t mean it like that. I just think you’re fine and I was wondering if I can get your number or something.”
“No,” Asia said without looking up.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know you.” She handed the customer his order and waved the next one forward.
“Then you can get to know me. I ain’t a bad dude, Ms. Asia,” he read from her name tag.
“Look, I know you see me working so can you either get your thirsty ass back in line and place an order or leave?” Asia shooed him. He was cute, but she could tell by the way he talked and dressed that he was a street dude.
“Oh, so you like to play hard to get, huh? That’s okay, I’m persistent,” he said, obviously not taking the hint.
“Everything okay out there, Asia?” the manager called from the back, where he had been watching the exchange. He recognized Knowledge’s face from seeing him around the neighborhood so he already knew what he was about.
“Yes, everything is fine,” Asia told him. “Look,” she lowered her voice, “you about to get me fired for holding this line up. Can you please go?”
“I’ll leave once you give me your number.”
“Look, you think you’re the first guy to pop some slick shit thinking it’s gonna make me get all gushy and give you my goodies? If you really want my number then impress me; set yourself aside from every other thirst bucket looking for a good time.”
“You got that,” he said with a smirk, backing away.
Asia thought that the young hustler had finally gotten the memo and she was rid of him, but what she didn’t know was that Knowledge was a young man who loved a good challenge. Each night thereafter he would show up and try again. The second night he came, he was carrying flowers; she shot him down. The third night he swapped out his hoodie for a button-up shirt and a box of candy; again she shot him down. Asia wouldn’t admit it to him, but Knowledge was starting to wear her down with his persistence. It wasn’t until the fourth night that Knowledge would finally make his way to her heart.
It was just before the end of her shift when she noticed him walk in. This time she was curious to see what he had come up with to try and get her to go out with him. He waited patiently on the line until it was his turn to order. “You just don’t quit, do you? Okay, what kind of lame-ass trick do you have for me tonight?”
Knowledge shrugged. “The only one I got left.” He climbed up on the counter and got down on one knee. “I’ve come in here every night and tried to offer you something that I know most girls go for, but what I’ve come to realize is that you ain’t most girls. What I’ve come to you with tonight is plain old honesty. I’m feeling you, girl, and I wanna show you that I ain’t a bad guy. So if I gotta embarrass myself to prove to you that my intentions are genuine then so be it. Asia, would you do me the honor of allowin
g me to take you on a proper date?”
It seemed as if every eye in McDonald’s was on Asia, including her manager’s. Asia was both shocked and embarrassed. She’d had guys try all sorts of tactics to get next to her, but none had ever gone quite as far as Knowledge.
“I’m calling the police,” the manager threatened, grabbing the phone off the wall and dialing 911.
“Boy, are you crazy? You’re gonna get yourself arrested!” Asia told him.
“And it’d be worth it if it brought me one step closer to making you mine,” Knowledge said sincerely.
“Girl, say yes so this fool-ass boy can get down and I can order my food!” a woman called from the back of the line.
“You know how folks love McDonald’s fries, baby. So what you gonna do?” Knowledge asked her playfully.
Before she could answer a pair of hands grabbed Knowledge by the back of his hoodie and snatched him off the countertop. The manager had made good on his threat and called the cops. They slammed Knowledge to the ground and slapped handcuffs on him. Even as they were dragging him out of McDonald’s, he kept looking at Asia, waiting for an answer.
Knowledge was taken to the local precinct, where he spent the next couple of hours being processed. They eventually let him go with a desk appearance ticket for disturbing the peace. When he walked out of the precinct he was surprised to find Asia outside waiting for him. “That was the craziest shit I’ve ever seen.” She pressed a slip of paper into his hand before walking away. Knowledge had finally gotten her phone number.
* * *
“They fired my ass right after the police took you away.” Asia chuckled. “But looking back, it was worth it.”
“So, what now? You wanna let off a few more rounds?” Knowledge asked.
“Nah, I’ve smelled enough gun smoke for the day. I am hungry, though.”
“Bet, let’s go grab a bite. What you feel like eating?”
“Take me to Red Lobster for lunch like you used to when you were a young broke nigga trying to impress me.” She looped her arm in his and they started for the door.