White Lines

by Tracy Brown

  The funeral commenced, and when he finally stood at his father’s side and looked down at his cold body, lying stiff in his casket, Born felt lost. He shook his head, feeling his father had died too young, certainly too soon. “You gave up.” Born said it, hoping that somehow his father could hear him now. “You quit on me.”

  He turned and took his mother by the hand, and only inwardly did he mourn the loss of his hero. At the funeral Born wouldn’t allow himself the satisfaction of crying. He was strong for his mother, and the sad little boy inside of him went uncomforted once more.

  17

  EXCUSE ME, MISS

  The streets never sleep, and so Born was back on the block within days of burying his father. It was his way of doing what he had set out to do. He wanted to pick up the torch that Leo had dropped, and Born was determined to win. He wanted to do it for his father, and he hoped to be the man that his father had been unable to be. But he hit a speed bump along the way.

  Born was arrested for possession of a controlled substance two months after his father’s death. He had been caught with about an ounce of weed, and he was eager to get out of jail on bail before his mother found out that he’d been arrested. Born didn’t want to further complicate things, and stress her out more than she already was, so Born called Jamari to get the five thousand dollars that he needed to get out.

  Jamari was the only one from his childhood crew that Born still did business with. Martin, Chance, and Smitty were still doing their thing separately. Jamari was the only one still working with him, because Born had taken him under his wing from the start. Everything Jamari learned about the hood he learned from Born. The first time he held the cold steel of a biscuit, Born had placed it in his hands. Jamari had risen in the game, and ultimately gained respect in the hood because of the circles Born had opened up to him.

  Just days before his arrest, Born had given Jamari more work to sell, and Born knew that Jamari had the money. Their cash flowed steadily, and Born kept on top of it all. So when Born called for bail money, Ja-mari told him that he would be there that day to get him out. “Don’t worry about nothing, Born. I got you.”

  Born waited all day for Jamari to come and bail him out. As the hours passed, Born became more and more furious. When the guards loaded him on the prison bus for his trip to Rikers Island, after no one had shown up in court to bail him out, Born was livid. He called Jamari as soon as he got to Rikers, and Jamari didn’t answer the phone. Finally, Born was forced to call his mother.

  “Ma,” Born said, feeling like a complete loser for having to burden his mother with this shit now. “I got locked up, and I need bail. Can you come and get me?”

  Ingrid sighed. She wanted nothing more than for Marquis to get out of the game altogether, and to stay out of it. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be there to get you.”

  Ingrid came down and bailed her son out the next day, and he hated that she had more to worry about now. He went looking for Jamari as soon as she got him out.

  When he found his friend, Born was irate. He confronted Jamari on the block in the Harbor projects, and was tempted to kill him on the spot. Born charged across the courtyard headed in Jamari’s direction. Jamari spotted Born, and he was visibly nervous. On the inside, Jamari was telling himself that Born was just a man. He told himself that he had nothing to fear. But outwardly, it was obvious to Born that Jamari was scared to death. He shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. And when Born finally stood in front of him, Jamari couldn’t seem to stand still.

  “Where’s my money at, nigga?” Born cut right to the chase. He stood tall, and his commanding presence clearly intimidated Jamari.

  Jamari’s voice faltered. “Born, let me tell you what happened,” he began. “I was on my way to bail you out. I was driving down the block in New Brighton.”

  “What block?” Born barked.

  “Jersey Street, right there in front of the projects,” Jamari clarified. “I got pulled over by the police. I didn’t even do nothing wrong, but they snatched me out of the car and searched me. While they had me up against the gate, searching me, they searched the car, too. But they didn’t find shit. I wasn’t dirty that day, so they had no reason to pull me over in the first place. After they finished fucking with me, they let me get back inside my car. So I waited till the cops pulled off, and I went on my way. But when I got to the court, the bail money that I had stashed in the glove compartment was missing. The cops must have stole the money, Born, ‘cuz I had left the glove compartment unlocked. I didn’t want to contact you until I managed to make the money back somehow.” Jamari wasn’t sure that Born was buying his story, and as he gave his explanation, he never looked Born directly in the eye.

  Born was speechless when he heard his friend’s account. Jamari’s tale made Born’s blood boil. Born had made his living in the streets, where it was imperative that he learn how to read people’s emotions. Often body language spoke louder than verbal conversations. And Jamari’s body language signaled that there was larceny in his heart. He fidgeted nervously, and his voice trembled.

  Born stared at Jamari for a long time after hearing his story. “Jamari, do you think I’m a fool?” he asked at last.

  Jamari shook his head, no. “Nah, Born. I know you ain’t no fool—”

  “You think I’m naive?”

  “Nah, Born.”

  “So you know that I see through you right now, then?”

  Jamari didn’t bother to answer the rhetorical question, and stared back at Born in silence.

  “You must have forgot that I told that same bullshit story to A.J. when I wanted to do my own thing. Me and my niggas lied about being robbed, and we kept the product for ourselves. Remember that? So I know your story is bullshit.”

  “Nah, Born. It ain’t even like that. I swear on my mother’s life I didn’t take that money from you. I ain’t lying to you, Born.”

  Born looked at him in disbelief. He knew in his heart that Jamari was full of shit. But he had no proof. And having just buried his father, and having just been released from jail, Born didn’t have it in him to go crazy. He thought about his mother and how upset she would be if he found himself deeper in trouble for fucking Jamari up. So Born did the next best thing. He cut him off, and counted his dough as a loss. But not before letting Jamari know that he saw through his story. “Jamari,” he said calmly. “I know you betrayed me. I know you took my dough, and your story about the cops is a lie. You can swear on anybody you want. But no matter how much you deny it, you know the truth, and I know it, too. You fucked up.” Seeing Jamari looking nervous enough to wet his pants, Born laughed. “It’s all good, li’l homie. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Just give me back all my work and get the fuck out my face.”

  “Born, I ain’t never take nothing from you,” Jamari protested.

  But Born was done talking. He snatched Jamari up by the collar of his shirt and pulled his face within inches of his own. “Give my shit back, and walk away before I change my mind,” he snarled.

  Jamari dug nervously through his pockets and handed Born the crack he still had left to sell. Born took it, turned his back on his former friend, and walked away. Born never dealt with him again after that. Their friendship was a thing of the past. Even though they no longer crossed paths like they used to, Born was still bitter about what he perceived as being kicked when he was down. It was a feeling he didn’t like one bit.

  But Born had more important things to focus on: mainly, his rise to prominence on the block, and how he had begun to blossom into a full-fledged bailer right in front of everyone’s eyes. He was now driving a black 1994 Mercedes Benz E320 convertible and living in an exclusive luxury building among wealthy neighbors. He had all that a man with power would want. Except a woman to share it with.

  Up to that point in his life, Born had loved only one girl. His teenage love, Simone, had succeeded in wounding Born’s pride and breaking his heart, and after that he never let chicks get too close to him. Hi
s attitude after that always was, “What’s in it for me?” He wasn’t looking to fall in love ever again. He said that he would never give his heart to anyone else.

  There were scores of women in Born’s life. Most of them were merely sex toys for Born, but there were a couple who had managed to hold his interests even when they weren’t fucking. He had dated one young lady who was a real fly girl. Chanel was from Queens, and she came to see Born at his mother’s house in Staten Island. When she came to see him she was wearing all kinds of jewelry—big rope chains, bamboo earrings, name rings, and all kinds of gold adorned her body. Born brought her around, figuring that all the neighborhood homies would be impressed with his stylish new shorty.

  As soon as he brought her to the hood, Martin had sized her up. He noticed that she was one of those light-skinned girls who thought her shit didn’t stink. He also noticed the pricey jewelry that seemed to adorn every inch of her body. Martin pulled Born to the side and said, “Yo, Born. We gonna rob that bitch.” He smiled at Born, and Born cracked up laughing, assuming that his friend was joking around.

  “Let me rock her in the hood for a little while first,” Born said, in jest. “Don’t rob shorty yet,” he joked. They laughed among themselves, and then went their separate ways. Days went by, and then Chanel called to tell Born that she was coming to see him again. He was glad, because her sex was out of this world. So he called his boys and explained why he’d be out of the loop for the day, and he took a shower in anticipation of her arrival.

  When she got to his crib, he opened the door and saw her standing there looking naked, with absolutely no jewelry on whatsoever. Chanel was in tears, and she couldn’t even speak at first. As soon as he saw her like that, he shook his head. He already knew what had happened.

  “Yo, some niggas robbed me in the lobby,” she said. She was shaken and crying as he ushered her into the apartment. “Three big niggas with guns.”

  Born shook his head, knowing that Martin, Smitty, and Chance were behind it. He listened as she went on and on about her traumatic experience. “They even took my nose ring!” She was distraught, and Born fought the urge to laugh. “Is this what it’s like in your hood?” she asked, with her face frowned up. “This is the type of shit that goes on out here?” Chanel’s tears had turned into tears of rage.

  Born grinned at her prissy ass. “Anybody could get it out here,” he said. “Niggas is hungry, and you come through all shining like that.” Born’s expression was cold and unsympathetic. He shook his head in dismay, called her a cab, and sent her home. As soon as she left, he went to find his friends. As he walked through the lobby, he noticed that the lightbulbs had been shattered, and the building’s entranceway was darker than ever. They had set shorty up real good. He walked outside in search of his crew, and he found them in the back of his building.

  Born approached them and shook his head. “I thought I just asked y’all niggas not to rob the bitch.”

  All three of his friends broke out in laughter, and Born laughed also, as they all gave each other a pound. “I told y’all to let me rock her in the hood for a little while, and what do y’all niggas do? You rob the bitch the very next time I bring her ass out here!” He was still smiling, and his boys knew that he wasn’t really mad. “Aiight, lemme see. What did y’all muthafuckas get?” He sat there in back of his mother’s building and split up the loot with his boys. This was typical of his nonchalance toward women and his lack of feeling when it came to them.

  All that changed on the day that he met Jada Ford.

  He saw her standing in front of the group home in Mariner’s Harbor, and was instantly mesmerized by the unfamiliar beauty. Born made it his business to know any and everybody within the borough where he did most of his dirt. Many a hustler had fallen by not recognizing the subtlest changes around them. So when he saw Jada standing there, he wondered who she was and why he’d never seen her before. He drove around the block a few times, trying to catch another glimpse of her. On his third time around the block, he saw her walking, and he had to follow her. Her ass was amazing, and her walk was mean! Born was further intrigued when his attempts to holler at her were immediately shot down. Born wasn’t accustomed to being rejected. He was the man, and women usually fell at his feet. But Jada was hesitant. And she was beautiful. It made him that much more determined to see what she was all about.

  When he finally convinced her to go to lunch with him, he wondered what would become of them after this initial encounter. He sat across from her at a table in the back corner of the diner. He thought her eyes were so alive, almost like they were dancing, as she looked around the place, taking in the decor. Born wondered where she was from, so he asked her.

  “Brooklyn,” Jada answered, directly. “Where you from?”

  “I’m from here—from Staten Island.” The waitress arrived to take their orders. Born ordered a sandwich. Jada followed his lead and ordered the same. When the waitress was gone, Born looked once more at Jada. “What part of Brooklyn?”

  Jada smiled at Born’s not-so-subtle questioning. “Flatbush.”

  “So what you doing out here today? You came to visit your man or somethin’?”

  Jada smirked. “My sister lives out here, and I’m waiting for her to get home.” She wondered why Born seemed to look at her so intensely. His eyes made her feel see-through.

  “So your sister lives in the group home over there?”

  “You ask an awful lot of questions.”

  “I’m sorry. I just want to make conversation—”

  “So then ask me what my favorite color is. Ask me what’s my sign.” Jada was edgy.

  Born liked a challenge. Jada definitely seemed to fit the bill. But he sensed that she was only acting tough. He could tell that she was vulnerable somewhere deep down inside, and he was curious about it. “Okay, Jada. What’s your favorite color? Huh? What’s your sign? You got any pets? You got any kids? You got a man?”

  Jada couldn’t help laughing. She liked his style for some reason. “Now that’s more like it,” she said. “I like yellow.”

  “Yellow?”

  “Yes, yellow. I’m a Cancer. I don’t have any pets, no kids, no man, nothing.” Jada finished her response just as their food arrived. “Now it’s your turn. Answer those same questions,” she said. She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap, still well mannered, despite her otherwise unrefined existence.

  Born said grace before he ate, which impressed Jada. That was the last thing she expected him to do. Then he shoveled a mouthful of French fries into his mouth and proceeded to talk. Jada tried not to look at his chewed-up food as she enjoyed her own. “I don’t really have a favorite color,” Born said. “I know it definitely ain’t yellow.”

  Jada pretended to be offended as he poked fun at her color preference. “Shut up,” she said, laughing.

  He thought about the answer to the other questions. “I’m a Pisces. I don’t have no kids or none of that shit, either.” He bit into his sandwich. “I got some sharks in a tank in my living room, though. I don’t know if that counts as pets.” He continued gulping down his sandwich as if it was his last meal.

  Jada sat, staring at his poor manners. She knew he had some money, judging from the car, the jewelry, and simply his style. But he had very little class. He talked with his mouth full, food flying this way and that. Finally, Jada said, “You don’t get out much, huh?”

  Born wiped his mouth with his napkin, and absorbed the sarcastic remark. He knew he was eating with reckless abandon. “I apologize if I’m being rude. I don’t get to sit down and eat too often,” he explained. “Sitting down like this ain’t something I get to do every day. Most of the time, I eat on the go.”

  Jada nodded. “So then I feel special. I feel like you took time out of your busy schedule to sit down and eat lunch with li’l old me.” Her voice was flat and insincere.

  He nodded in agreement. “I think you’re being sarcastic. But that’s alright.”

  Ja
da laughed. “But you need to chew with your mouth closed, you know?” Jada demonstrated, biting into her own sandwich and chewing neatly, with an encouraging grin on her face.

  Born shrugged his shoulders as Jada offered her tutorial. “This is how I eat, pretty girl. You’ll learn to love it,” Born said. “So why you don’t have a man? A pretty young lady like yourself, cute little body, nice conversation. Why are you all alone in Staten Island looking for your sister?”

  Jada shrugged. “I guess I’m not alone now, right?” She was beginning to wonder if this might lead to something. Born seemed like a likable guy.

  Born grinned and took a sip of his soda. He watched Jada chew her food, watched her wipe her mouth with her napkin and sit back. “Nah, you ain’t alone right now,” he agreed. He caught himself staring at her pretty eyes once more. He couldn’t help it.