No Home Training

by Ms. Michel Moore

  “Number 103, your order is ready.” The cashier rang up the two breakfasts placing them in a white plastic bag for the officers who headed toward the exit dropping off some flyers on the bench. “Number 104, you up!” she then yelled out.

  Bumping into the young guy who was getting up to pay for his food, Kendrick politely excused himself. When Coonee made sure the detectives had pulled out the gravel-filled lot, he picked up one of the flyers that had his homeboy’s picture on it. REWARD OF $15,000 was all the broke, out-of-product street soldier could pay attention to. Folding the paper up, he put it in his back pocket then gave the cashier a crisp twenty dollar bill Marco had given him the night before, which was obviously blood money, got the food, and left.

  An eviction notice, an empty-ass refrigerator, new sneakers, and his car fixed was all Coonee kept thinking about on the way back to his apartment with his and Marco’s breakfast. Fifteen thousand motherfucking dollars!

  O.T.

  “How was your first night back in your old room?” O.T. asked London as she came down the stairs looking for any signs of her twin.

  “I hardly slept.” She yawned. “I guess I was busy sleeping with one eye open just in case Kenya was thinking about stabbing me or something.”

  “Storm called last night and said him and your sister were gonna stay at my apartment and would be back this morning.” O.T. didn’t want to upset her by letting her know that Storm believed Marco was lurking around and Kenya might’ve been in danger.

  “Oh, okay.” London felt relieved she could fix herself a bit of breakfast and wash dishes without looking over her shoulder in fear of Kenya’s harsh, judgmental words.

  Ring. Ring. Ring. O.T. took the cordless phone off the charger and read the word UNAVAILABLE on the caller ID. “Yeah, hello.”

  “You have a collect call from Tangy. Will you accept the charges?”

  “Hell naw!” O.T. rudely laughed into the operator’s ear before hanging up. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. When he picked it up he heard the same speech, this time from a different operator.

  “You have a collect call from Tangy. Will you accept the charges, sir?”

  Knowing the lunatic broad was gonna keep trying to get through all morning O.T. agreed. “Yeah, I will.”

  “Caller, go ahead.”

  “Hello?” Tangy said.

  “What’s up, dumb bitch?”

  “Who in the fuck is this?”

  “Who it sound like, with ya dyke tramp self!”

  “O.T. is this your stupid-ass?”

  “You still tough as a motherfucker even locked behind those bars. I was just telling our girl Vanessa that the other night when me and her had dinner.”

  “Fuck you, nigga! It ain’t over between me and Vanessa! I owe that bitch one just like I owe ya punk-ass! Now where is Kenya? Put her on the line!”

  “Girl, my sister-in-law ain’t thinking about you, so stop dialing this number trying to call shots, you fucking cell gangster!” O.T. teased. “What is you trying to do anyway, steal my brother’s woman and turn her out?”

  “O.T., you ain’t shit!” Tangy screamed through the phone once more. “I hate your ass!”

  “Whatever you say, just talk quick ’cause you on my dime.”

  “Well, have you went to visit my little cousin?”

  “Naw, what in the hell do I need to see that crazy bitch for?” O.T. made sure London, who was still in the kitchen, could hear him. “Me and Paris is through! That’s a wrap and if that cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs chick ever talks again she’ll tell you that shit her damn self!”

  “O.T., you ain’t about nothing! One day ya luck gonna run out! Trust that! You just can’t keep running over people and think that payback ain’t gonna come back on your dumb-ass! Karma is a motherfucker!”

  “I know, I know. And I wanna thank you for all the compliments not to mention all your great, wise, and powerful words of wisdom, oh great pussy eater on lockdown, and FYI, ya time is up!” O.T. clicked the phone off with a smile on his face.

  Storm

  After a long, hot night of back-to-back banging, Storm and Kenya left Paris’s apartment with a brand new attitude on life. There would be no more blatant lies or misconceptions on what either of them were doing. With a lot of things on both their agendas, Kenya turned left on the highway and Storm made a right as his cell phone rang.

  “Hey, O.T.”

  “What up, bro, any more signs of that faggot Marco?”

  “Naw, he ain’t show back up, but he left a note on my damn windshield.”

  “What that garbage say?”

  “It was a bad drawing of a gun that said bang ya dead!”

  “Who that guy think he is, Clint Eastwood and shit!”

  “Yeah, right, but that guy don’t really want none!” Storm checked his watch. “But it just let us know we gotta find his ass.”

  “Don’t worry, after this morning, Marco gonna be ghost ’cause now I’m gonna hunt him!”

  “Well, I just have to swing by Alley Cats and meet with a couple of contractors, the plumber, and a few electricians who are gonna give me their bids.”

  “Then what?” O.T. asked his brother as he went upstairs to get dressed.

  “And then I’ll be back out to the condo.”

  “All right then, I’ll holler at you later. I’m about to go down to the projects and see if any of them dudes heard shit about where Marco been laying his head.”

  “Watch ya back! Peace.”

  Police

  “What should we do?” the officer debated with his relief who had just arrived. “Do we follow him or her?”

  “Our orders are to watch Tony Christian from afar not his girl.”

  “All right then, have a good day and I’ll call you with my location about four o’clock.”

  As the plainclothes undercover officer started his shift on the round-the-clock surveillance, Storm’s car drove by causing him to duck down or risk being seen. With enough safe distance between them, he then took off following Storm’s every move.

  Kenya

  “Hey now, Charday, please tell a sista you can try to fit me in?” Kenya called her stylist hoping she could get her hair done at the last minute. Taking a quick glance up in the rearview mirror she could see she was looking a hot freaking mess. After all the times and different positions she and Storm had sexually partaken in last night she needed to get herself together.

  “Wait a minute, let me check with Sable.” Charday had the receptionist do a quick rundown of her schedule to find any late cancellations. If there was any way possible to hook up a good tipping customer she was definitely going to try.

  “Please, girl, I need you! Otherwise I’m gonna have to go to the damn beauty supply and buy a wig!”

  “Yeah, Kenya, I can squeeze you in but you gotta hurry okay?” She laughed at Kenya’s last comment. “So come on.”

  “Not a problem, chick. I’m on my way!”

  Just as promised Kenya pushed the accelerator and arrived at Hair In Da Hood in record time. Not wasting a moment by gossiping like she always did when she came in for her appointment, Kenya immediately went to get shampooed. Lying back in the chair as the girl let the warm water rinse through her hair, she got one of her super painful and intense headaches that she’d been suffering from the past few weeks.

  Dizzy, feeling nauseated as she got her hair blown dry and styled, Kenya thought she was going to pass out right there on the spot in the beauty shop chair.

  “Are you okay?” Charday whispered tapping her client lightly on the shoulder. “You look like hot fired death on a stick.”

  “Girl, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just stress I guess. I’ve been trying to deal with them funny-acting insurance claim adjusters and you know I just came back from Detroit visiting my people.”

  “Yeah, well you better go home and rest your nerves for a while,” Charday urged as she took the cape off Kenya and walked her to the door.

  At the
same time she was trying to leave, Vanessa and some bitch were coming in. With an aqua-colored scarf wrapped tightly around her head, Vanessa mean mugged Kenya as she used her shoulder to bump her as the two passed one another.

  “Excuse you!” Vanessa kept her hand in her purse on her blade knowing from witnessing firsthand that Kenya was no joke and could buck with the best of them.

  “Watch where you going!” Kenya was sick, but still wasn’t gonna get punked at the salon.

  “Or what you gonna do? Get Tangy to kick my ass?”

  “Look, honey.” Kenya cracked a slight smile. “Please believe me when I tell you don’t nobody want Tangy’s crazy tripped-out ass but you! So why don’t you do your pitiful self a huge favor and go on inside and get your wig fixed before I lose my patience and end up splitting that motherfucker!”

  “Come on now, Vanessa. I don’t know why every time you come in my salon you try to start something about that damned whorish Tangy.” Charday put her two cents in setting the record straight. “You know as well as every other bitch in Dallas knows Tangy be flirting with every female she comes in contact with! So calm the hell down and stop fucking with my customers!”

  Vanessa’s friend pulled her arm yanking her inside the salon for their appointments, knowing that Kenya and Charday were both right and she was making a spectacle out of herself.

  “All right then, chick. Go on home and take care of yourself and call me if you need to.”

  “Thanks, girl.” Kenya hugged Charday before practically dragging herself in the car and finally heading home to find God knows what.

  Chapter 14

  Double Take

  Storm

  Sitting in his car riffling through the mountains of paperwork the various contractors had bombarded him with, Storm knew the renovation of Alley Cats was gonna cost him a small fortune. With an ongoing arson investigation holding up the insurance check, the drought that was crippling his drug revenue, and now a baby on the way, financially things were getting out of hand.

  Placing both hands over his face trying to figure out some sort of temporary solutions to his complicated, twisted dilemmas, like a gift from God, his cell phone rang.

  “Yeah, hello.”

  “As-Salaam Alaikum.”

  “Greetings, Brother Rasul,” Storm respectfully replied. “I’m glad you called so soon. To be honest with you I’m at the end of my robe with my resources.”

  “Not to worry, Storm, everything is in place. Fatima is still agitated as hell for me doing it, but Kenya and I go far back and our friendship doesn’t have boundaries or restrictions on it.”

  “I appreciate all the love, devotion, and respect you have for my girl.”

  “Not a problem, Storm, but on the other hand you need to know that you and you alone are a hundred percent responsible for the ticket on that package and will be held totally accountable for payment in no more than thirty days,” Brother Rasul strongly advised.

  “I hear you. Thirty days.” Storm was elated that very soon his street soldiers would be back on the grind and money would once again start flowing freely.

  “Storm, listen to me. If something does go wrong, I can’t and won’t intervene. Not even for Kenya’s sake. Do we have a complete understanding of our deal?”

  “You have my word that your people will have their money in thirty days.”

  “One last thing is that you must be on time because you only have once to make a good first impression with these people. Any foul-ups or discrepancies, you can trust you’ll never get a second chance dealing with them ever again.”

  “Don’t worry, Brother Rasul, I won’t mess up!”

  With that exchange understood, Brother Rasul gave Storm the contact information along with the precise time and location of the drop, which, for safety precautions, he kept locked in his memory instead of writing it down. Having just received a new lease on life Storm turned out of the parking lot of his temporarily closed strip club and started on his way home. After several red lights and three left turns, he soon came to suspect he was being followed. By who, he didn’t know for sure. But whoever it was he knew they should buckle their seat belts and hold the fuck on.

  Reaching under the driver seat Storm took out his pistol, setting it on his lap just in case, then checked his mirrors. Slowly approaching the next intersection, he acted as if he was going to stop, then gunned it through the yellow light, made a quick left, then flew up a back alleyway and finally recklessly hooked a U-turn on the next major street four blocks over. If a motherfucker can follow all of that, he need to catch my black-ass! Storm thought as he drove around the outskirts of the city twenty more minutes before jumping on the highway heading toward his condo. It doesn’t matter if that was Marco or the cops; fuck ’em both!

  Reunions . . .

  “Wow, I should have never let O.T. cook for me last night. He must have used every dish and pot Kenya owns.” London giggled as she looked under the sink for more soap and a Brillo Pad.

  Barely able to bend down and reach the box near the corner, she struggled to get back up when she heard the front door slam shut. Thinking it was her sister, London turned to shamefully creep back upstairs and out of Kenya’s way. Before she could get out the kitchen, she was met by Storm.

  “Oh hey, it’s you.”

  “Yeah, who was you expecting, O.T.?”

  “No, he just left. I thought you were Kenya and I didn’t want to be in her path.”

  “Oh, you mean the Big Bad Wolf, huh?” Storm tried to ease the tension that had been a constant barrier between him and London for months.

  “You shouldn’t play like that. I know how she must feel and it’s awful.” London grabbed her stomach and took a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Storm got close holding her up by her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s nothing.” London moved away remembering what happened the last time they were in the house alone in the kitchen. “The baby just kicked.”

  “Damn!” Storm smiled. “You’re lying! Let me feel him.”

  “Okay.” She was slightly hesitant placing his hand on her left side. “Just wait a second.”

  “Oh, shit! I just felt him! He gonna be strong, I can tell!”

  London lowered her head walking into the living room sitting down on the couch. “I hope so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He followed concerned for his unborn son. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

  “It’s just you and O.T. tip-toe around me trying to act like everything is okay and it isn’t. I know that crazy guy from the mall is the same one who murdered your friend Boz and now he’s promising to kill you and O.T.!”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted.

  London shed a few tears trying to still remain brave. “Well, if something happens to either one of you, my child is going to suffer a major loss not being able to grow up with his father or his uncle in his life. And the way things stand with Kenya he won’t have his aunt.”

  Storm was now faced with the brutal reality that London was right. The life he and O.T. were living was a death sentence waiting to occur, but he was too far in the game, with too much responsibility on his plate to back out now and call it quits. There was only one thing he could do to protect his son’s interest in the long run and that would be on the top of his to-do list.

  As the two of them sat talking, he tried convincing London that Kenya had accepted the fact that he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life and was going to at least be civil to her. Before Storm and she knew it, Kenya had put her key in the front door and was coming inside. Waiting nervously they braced themselves for a huge blowout when she saw both of them together interacting. Shockingly something was drastically wrong. It had to be, because the pair got a surprise of a lifetime. A disoriented Kenya hardly looked their way and quietly went up the stairs shutting her bedroom door.

  “Why is she looking like that?” London wanted to come to her twin sister’s aid, but
was stopped by Storm.

  “Naw, you stay down here. I got her.”

  “Okay,” London sadly replied.

  Chapter 15

  With Friends Like These

  Kenya

  It had been a long, emotionally charged night. Kenya tossed and turned not sleeping more than twenty to thirty minutes at a time. Suffering excruciating abdominal pains, any food that was in her stomach was totally out of her system thanks to intense bouts of vomiting. After constant refusals from Kenya to go seek medical attention, Storm finally stepped in making the decision for her.

  “You not getting any better, so fuck all the dumb shit I’m taking ya ass to the hospital!”

  Assisting his woman put on a pair of track pants and one of his T-shirts, Storm swooped her in his arms carrying her weak body down the stairs and out to his car not bothering to notice he was being watched.

  “Call me and tell me something!” Helplessly, London stood outside her bedroom door wanting nothing more than to be there by Kenya’s side as she was being taken out. Rubbing her ever-growing belly, London cringed as she now had one more thing to worry about. First O.T. hadn’t come home at all last night and now Kenya was sick.

  O.T.

  Being persistent on his hunt for Marco was proving to be a dangerous mission. Fed up with all the hide and seek games Marco was playing, O.T. brazenly hung out in the places his prey was known to frequent hoping word would get back to him that O.T. was calling him out. Yet no one in the pool halls, corner stores, or afterhours spots seemed to know anything about Marco’s whereabouts and O.T. was done with the chase until nightfall.

  Exhausted from roaming the coldblooded project streets keeping his ear pressed to the ground, O.T. decided to shoot out to the condo, take a shower, and grab some food. So, wasting no time he drove to his brother’s house. As he turned into the driveway and parked he heard his cell phone ring.