by Tracy Brown
When she finally arrived at the group home, Jada was disappointed to find that Ava wasn’t there. She fought off the feeling that she was alone in the world again. She told herself that Ava would probably be back pretty soon. So since she had no place else to go, and she didn’t know where any of her friends were after all the time she’d spent away from Staten Island, Jada sat outside the home and waited for Ava to come back. She was feeling sorry for herself and wondered if she should give up on trying to stay clean and just go back to what had made her feel good—crack. But still she waited for her sister, trying to block out the urge to backslide.
While she was sitting out in front of the group home, waiting for Ava, a black Benz drove by three different times. The windows were tinted, and Jada couldn’t see who was driving. But she knew it was the same car, and she wondered why the driver seemed to be circling the block. About an hour passed, as she sat there in the front of the building. The next time the car passed her by, she was walking to the store on the next corner. The car pulled up beside her, and the driver slowed down. He lowered the power windows, and he called out to her.
“Excuse me, do you mind if I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yes. I mind.” Jada didn’t break stride. She kept walking at the same swift pace, switching her ass in her Lee jeans. Jada had gained back some of the weight she’d lost. She looked thick and sexy in all the right places as she strolled along.
“Well, I’m gonna follow you, anyway.” He smiled at her, still driving slowly alongside her.
Jada kept on walking, only glancing once at the cutie behind the wheel of the black luxury car. His smile was disarming, but she knew it was the jiggle in her jeans that had him driving at twenty miles below the speed limit. She had sold herself for drugs enough times for her to resent any man who pulled up in a car next to a lady walking alone. She felt that she knew his intentions right away. He was adorable, but Jada wasn’t in the mood for some local wannabe trying to get some play. She was still upset about what had happened at her mother’s house, and was upset that Ava was nowhere to be found. She kept right on walking, her focus on the store up ahead.
“What’s your name?” the guy in the car asked.
No response.
“Wow. You really don’t wanna talk to me, huh?”
“Nah.” Jada reached the store and walked inside, hoping the stranger would take the hint and keep on moving. She had no such luck. The unfamiliar young man parked his car and followed the unidentified beauty into the store. Once inside, he scanned the tiny aisles until he found his mark. Jada stood by the freezers, scanning the sodas, looking for a Cherry Coke.
He walked up behind Jada, smiling at the apple bottom she possessed. He loved a nice ass, and Jada’s was certainly a work of art. Her waist was small, and her bad-girl stance was intriguing him. “I can’t believe you ain’t gonna give me a chance to talk to you.”
Jada rolled her eyes dramatically, turned around, and faced him. “I can’t believe that you really can’t take no for an answer.”
“I don’t like hearing no. Especially when I have my heart set on something.” He sized her up tastefully, wondering why he was so mesmerized by her eyes. It wasn’t every day that he noticed something like a woman’s eyes. That wasn’t really his style. He usually noticed the obvious, the most prominent bodily features: tits and asses. But this girl’s eyes were so delicate, almost innocent. And so very sexy. He was captivated.
“Okay. You’re in my way,” Jada said. “Excuse me.”
“Let me get your number.” He stated it, rather than asked it. He made his intentions very clear. “I’ll leave you alone after that, I promise.” Jada laughed at his aggressiveness but was secretly intrigued by his confidence. He had an arrogance about him, which strangely turned her on. He was about six feet tall, well-built, and very handsome. He had a honey-colored complexion, a fresh haircut, and a very costly gold chain on his neck. He wasn’t gorgeous, but was a nice-looking guy, with a smile that was absolutely disarming. Jada liked what she saw, but kept her game face on. When he asked for her number, he crossed his arms on his chest, and Jada took note of the watch, but didn’t recognize the maker; something called “TAG Heuer” that she’d never heard of. But it sure looked expensive. His smile was amazingly contagious, and he had a pair of lips that just begged to be kissed.
“I don’t know who you are.” Jada’s voice was silky as she spoke.
“They call me Born. What’s your name?”
“Nice to meet you, Born. I’m not really looking for a man right now—”
“I didn’t say I want to be your man.” He looked directly in her eyes, and noticed that she was scanning the room, looking for a way out. “I just want to talk to you. That’s all.” Born really wasn’t looking for love, or for commitment. He was looking for a good time with a pretty young woman. And Jada fit the bill perfectly.
Jada finally looked directly at him. “I don’t have a phone.” She put her hands on her hips, certain that now he would leave her alone. Jada wished that her statement was false, but it was pure truth. She had no phone, no place to really call home, no plan. She felt so lost. She didn’t want to go back to the drugs, to the sex and the misery. But at the moment, she had no idea where else to go. All she really wanted was her sister, and she had no idea where Ava was.
Born entertained the idea of giving her his pager number. But she might not use it, and he didn’t want to take the chance. Thinking on his feet, he said, “So, then let me take you to eat, somethin’ real quick. If I bore you to death, you can walk out and leave me.”
Jada looked at him, visibly unmoved. She didn’t know this guy, and she wasn’t about to go off somewhere with this stranger. Sensing her hesitation, Born spoke up.
“I ain’t the boogeyman, ma. You ain’t gotta be nervous around me.” He smiled. “Plus, you look like you could probably beat my ass, anyway.”
Jada chuckled, and still wavered. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go off with some dude she had just met. But she was broke, her sister was missing in action, her mother was shutting her out, and she was hungry. The man standing before her was a welcome distraction, and she hesitantly accepted. She followed Born to his car, which was parked unlocked, with the key still hanging in the ignition. For Jada it was easy to surmise that this young man in the Benz, with the gold chain, fancy watch, and movie-star smile, was a hustler. Born knew that no one would dare touch his car, even with the key in the ignition in the middle of the day. Jada had been around all kinds of players in the game during the days she spent living in Brooklyn, as well as in the streets of Staten Island. She knew the signs of a bailer, and she could tell that Born was a man to contend with. She could sense his abundance of confidence by the way he had approached her. Jada suspected that he was used to having his way, and that he was cocky. But she also noticed his charm and his wit. She figured that at least for that afternoon, Born could be someone who she might not mind spending time with. She sat back against the leather passenger seat and gazed out the window as he looked over at her, nestled comfortably in his car.
“So, what you feel like eating?” Born asked, stealing glances at the beauty on his right.
Jada shrugged her shoulders. “It don’t matter. Whatever you want is fine.”
Born raised an eyebrow, slyly. “Don’t tell me that. Because I think I see what I want already.”
Jada looked at him snottily, and then rolled her eyes. Looking out the window once again, she said, “Well, for now, just stick to food. That’s all.”
Born smiled and nodded, directing his attention to the road ahead of them. He wondered what he should make of this girl with a lovely face and a nasty attitude. He wasn’t sure if she would turn out to be a headache or had some potential. But there was something about her that made him want to dig deeper. He felt that under all that toughness was a sensuality that hadn’t been tapped into yet. He figured he might as well find out if it was worth the trouble. He pulled into the parking
lot of the diner on Forest Avenue and parked his Benz. He couldn’t wait to see if this first date would prove to be their last.
Turns out, it was the start of something big.
BORN
11
A HUSTLER IS BORN
1980
Marquis Graham stood proudly, watching his father work the crowd. They were in a shopping plaza on Targee Street, standing outside of the Zebra Lounge, and Leo was chatting animatedly with a group of his cronies. They laughed and talked about the Knicks game that had been on TV the night before. Marquis watched his dad, soaking up his aura and marveling at how easily he stole the spotlight whenever he stepped onto the scene. At eight years old, Marquis was like a sponge. He soaked up everything around him, particularly the words and actions of his father and his friends.
The thing that made Marquis the proudest was the fact that he had the coolest father in the world. Leo Graham was a living legend in the hood. Everywhere he went people respected him, some almost bowed to him. Whenever he walked into a room, it was all eyes on him. Leo’s role in the life of his son had not been a traditional one. Leo had been arrested for manslaughter when Marquis was two years old, and had served five years for that crime. He got to know his youngest son through occasional visitation up north, and through the updates his wife, Ingrid Graham, gave him. He was released when Marquis was seven years old. Leo was in and out. He was here and there. But when he finally came home, everything was alright. For Marquis, every day was sunshine now that Daddy was home.
Marquis saw a familiar man walking swiftly in their direction. He recognized the man’s face but didn’t know his name. He was walking very fast, and his face was set in a frown. His eyes were focused on Leo. “Dad.” Marquis tugged at Leo’s shirt. “Here comes your friend.”
Leo looked in the direction his son was pointing at, and he shook his head. “This muthafucka ain’t nobody,” he said. He looked at the man as he approached, and greeted him halfheartedly. “What’s up, Nick?”
“Don’t give me that ‘what’s up?’ shit, nigga! Where the fuck is my money at?” The man was fuming. He was taller than Leo, and heavier. But Leo didn’t seem at all intimidated.
Leo smiled at the menacing man. “Fuck you,” Leo said, puffing on his cigarette. “I brought that money by your house last night. You wasn’t home, so I was gonna give the dough to your wife. But after I got finished fucking her, she said it was so good that she shoulda been paying me. So I don’t owe you shit.”
Leo’s audience laughed at angry Nick, and Marquis watched to see what would happen next. To his amazement, his father went right back to talking to his boys, as if Nick wasn’t even there. Furious, Nick pulled out a gun, and everybody scattered. He started firing at Leo, aiming for his face. Using his arms to block his face, Leo ducked and tried to ward off the gunshots. The first bullet hit him in the forearm as he fell to the ground. Marquis stood frozen in fear, crying loudly. Leo tried desperately to wriggle out of harm’s way. But the shooter continued to fire, hitting Leo several times.
Mayhem erupted as the shopping plaza exploded in screams and chaos. Leo tried to go for his gun, which was on his ankle. But the shooter was still firing, and Leo was badly injured. Marquis watched his father and was disturbed by the obvious pain that he was in. Leo was like a giant to his son, and so seeing him sprawled on the ground, with his face twisted in agony, was difficult for Marquis to witness. Marquis stood crying as he watched his father cringe in pain. Finally out of bullets, Nick ran off in the opposite direction from which he’d come, and Marquis ran to his father’s side.
“Dad,” he cried. “Dad, are you okay?” Marquis’s tear-streaked face was all that Leo could focus on as he drifted in and out of consciousness.
The madness that followed seemed to swallow Marquis right up. All of Leo’s boys came out of their hiding places, and began to talk to him, trying to keep him lucid and alert. Someone called 911 from a nearby pay phone. All the while Marquis clung to his father and prayed that he wouldn’t die. After close to twenty minutes, an ambulance finally came, followed by several police cars. Cops swarmed the plaza as the paramedics tended to Leo down on the pavement. Marquis stood off in the corner, scared to death that his father would die. Leo struggled to remain conscious as they loaded him into the ambulance. He was rushed to the hospital while Ingrid hurried to the scene in order to get to Marquis. She arrived to find the police questioning her son about the shooting.
“Son, you have to try to remember more details. Do you remember the man’s name? Was he a friend of your father’s?” One officer grilled Marquis.
“Excuse me, he ain’t answering no more of your questions,” Ingrid interrupted, taking her son by the hand and hugging him close to her body. “He don’t remember, and that’s just that.”
“Ma’am, we’re trying to find the guy who shot your husband—”
“Good luck. Now I’d appreciate it if you leave us alone, so that I can get to the hospital.” Ingrid stood calmly, and patted Marquis on his back reassuringly. But inwardly she was agonizing, wondering if this time Leo really might not make it. All the accounts she’d gotten from his boys had sounded grim. She knew that her husband had been shot at close range and that Marquis had witnessed it all. She knew that Nick was responsible. But she also knew that, if Leo survived, he wouldn’t want the cops to do his dirty work. Leo would want to handle Nick all by himself.
The officer reluctantly allowed Ingrid to leave, handing her his card and instructing her to call him if her son remembered something. She lied and told him that she would, and then she took her baby and headed toward her car. Once inside she hugged and kissed her traumatized child, who was still crying from the trauma of what he’d witnessed. Ingrid tried her best to assure him that his father was tough and that he would survive. As they headed to the hospital, she assured Marquis that Leo would pull through.
When they arrived at the hospital, Ingrid left Marquis in the company of Aunt Betty while she stood vigil outside of Leo’s operating room. Even with five bullets in him, he was talking shit and giving the doctors a hard time.
“Don’t… put me to sleep! I don’t… wanna go under. Don’t put me … to sleep. I’m serious. I’m … serious.” Leo was yelling at the doctors, nervous that if he was sedated he might not wake up.
The doctors argued with him, but to no avail. Finally a doctor came out to speak to Ingrid to explain the situation. “Your husband is refusing to allow us to sedate him. He wants to remain awake during the surgery. He’s got several bullet wounds—one each in his forearm, his hand, his shoulder, and his stomach. He also has a graze wound on his neck. That’s a lot to stay awake for. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Ingrid shook her head, knowing that it would be pointless to try to talk to Leo when his mind was made up. Leo always followed his instincts. He was superstitious at times—he was the kind of man who would never lay his hat on a bed or walk under a ladder. If his gut instincts told him not to go somewhere, Leo didn’t go. And if he was apprehensive about being put to sleep, nothing she said to him would change his mind.
“Can’t you give him something to numb the area where he was shot and still allow him to stay awake?” she asked. “He doesn’t want to be put to sleep, and if he’s strong enough to handle it, I think you should let him have his way.”
The doctor was surprised by her response. He stood speechless for a long while. Then he nodded and returned to the operating room. He explained to the anesthesiologist that only a local anesthetic would be used. Leo lay there with his teeth clenched, sweat streaming down his face and his fists tightly balled, while the doctors removed the bullets and closed up his wounds. They saved the abdominal wound until last, hoping he would succumb to the pain and beg for anesthesia. Leo was stubborn. But he eventually passed out from a mixture of exhaustion and pain. The doctors tended to his abdominal wound then.
The next several hours were tense for Ingrid and Marquis. They waited anxiously for Leo to wake
up. When he finally did, Ingrid cried for the first time all day. Leo looked at his wife and his son and was so happy to see them. As long as he could see them, that meant he wasn’t dead. Leo’s dry mouth made it difficult for him to talk. So he simply squeezed his wife’s hand and winked at her. Ingrid smiled, feeling that her husband would be strong enough to survive. Marquis thanked God for bringing his father through the whole ordeal alive.
When Leo was finally released from the hospital, Ingrid waited on him hand and foot. His recovery was slow and deliberate. And she was with her husband every step of the way. While Leo had always been a far from perfect husband, he was a good man, and a good provider. Ingrid loved him intensely.
Ingrid had grown up in Marietta, Georgia. Her sister, Betty, had been bold and adventurous, and had ventured out of the small town they’d grown up in, opting for life in a big city. Soon Betty was living in New York City. She was three years older than Ingrid, and she’d gotten a sleep-in job in Manhattan, cleaning house and working as a nanny for some wealthy white people. Eventually Betty got her own place in Harlem and worked odd jobs to get by. Her sister, Ingrid, came to New York in the fall of 1970. Ingrid was seventeen. She left her mother, her father, and her four brothers, and came to stay with her sister in New York, looking for something better.
Ingrid had been living with her sister for about ten months. She loved New York, just loved the city. And it was nice for her to be back in the company of her sister. They had always been close, since the two of them were the only girls in a family of so many boys. But Betty had a man. His name was Calvin. Calvin would get high, and he’d get a wandering eye. It wasn’t long before he started making comments and staring at Ingrid, leering at her. Betty seemed not to notice, and Ingrid didn’t want to upset her sister. Instead, she made up her mind that as soon as possible, she would find a place of her own and vacate the uncomfortable surroundings in which she was now living. She and Betty spent a lot of time at supper clubs on Friday and Saturday nights. They would hang out there whenever Calvin was tripping. On one such night at a supper club, Ingrid met the man who would sweep her off her feet and change her life forever.