Carl Weber's Kingpins: Jamaica

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Carl Weber's Kingpins: Jamaica Page 6

by Racquel Williams


  I shook my head. “Girl, no. We talked a little about Ratty, but he didn’t really say anything. I already know Gio and them crew wasn’t going to let it go. I know some shit going to pop around here, but the police everywhere, so I think they chilling.” I paused. “Girl, that’s fucked up how they did him, but I heard Ratty was involve with some scamming thing. I heard the money come in and Ratty take most of the money.”

  “Really? These niggas are not playing ’bout this money thing. I just feel bad for Mona still, ’cause she and Ratty been going together since high school days. And the three babies don’t have no father now.”

  “Yes, true, I feel bad for her,” I said. “I heard she pack up and left the area, ’cause they still don’t know what Ratty did with the money.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing she left, ’cause these old bitch-ass niggas ain’t got no heart. I swear, they will kill that girl and those babies. How the fuck they know he didn’t spend the money? I mean, Ratty was a big on splurging.”

  “That is true . . . I just pray to God that I get to leave this fucked-up-ass area. Sophia, I’m not going to lie, when I was uptown with Gaza, it was a whole different vibe. Uptown clean, no whole lot of drama. I stood out on his balcony and was thinking that this is the life I deserve to be living. Not in this ghetto, where people don’t respect you and your life is constantly in danger. I’m ready to get some more dance competition, so I can move up out of here. I’m going to give myself six months to move.”

  “I been thinking the same thing too, Camille. I told Oneil to let us move. We can move to Portmore or Greater Portmore. But he keep talking about he’s trying to save his money. I’ma give him an ultimatum, ’cause I’m tired of living in fear. Not sure when it’s going to be my life. Before I lose my life down here, I rather go back to the Gardens. Things kind of cool down after the Dudus situation.”

  “Bitch, I feel you. I ain’t goin’ to lie, Sophia. This is where I was born and raised, but I’m tired of all this senseless killing that takes place down here. I want a brand-new life, for real.”

  “I feel you, boo. Well, it seems like you’re going to get that real soon. Gaza seems to really like you. All I’m asking you is, don’t forget about your bitch when you get all rich and are living up in the hills.”

  “Bitch, cut it out. I don’t even know where me and Gaza relationship heading. I mean, I like him. Shit, I like him a lot. But niggas like him don’t keep one woman, and I ain’t about to have no matey. I’m too old to be sharing dick with the next bitch.”

  “Camille, baby, listen, this your chance. You fucking with a boss nigga. Even if you don’t want to do it for love, do it for security. This is your meal ticket to get out of here and don’t look back.”

  I nodded. “I hear you, boo. Anyways, this damn headache is killing me. I think I need some tea and something to eat.”

  “Yeah, and I need to jump on this taxi so I can get downtown before the rush. I will call you when I come back over here.”

  “Okay, girl.”

  I walked back into my house after Sophia left. Lord, I was never drinking again if this was how I was going to feel afterward. I checked my phone to see if Gaza had called or messaged me. He hadn’t. I felt a little disappointed. I wondered if he was thinking about the time we spent together or if this was just a fling to him. One of my biggest fears was being rejected after I opened up my soul to him. I brushed the feelings off and headed to the small kitchen. I made me some hot chocolate and a fried egg.

  I took my breakfast out to my verandah and sat there thinking about the night before, wondering if this was it or if we had a future together....

  Chapter Six

  Gaza

  Three months later . . .

  “Yo, my nigga, I got word where the niggas stayed at that killed Ratty,” Gio said as we sat at the bar, drinking.

  “Oh word. Well, we need to get on it real quick, before they make another move.”

  “Yeah, there’s this little bitch that I be fucking on the low low. She’s friend with one of nigga’s sister. The other night, after I finished fucking her and shit, I asked her if she didn’t hear anything about Ratty’s murder. At first, she was kind of hesitant to tell me anything, but I put on my charm, letting her know how much I want to be with her. Shortly after that, she started telling me that she heard some things. I continued pressing her, until she broke down and told me that she went to the bitch name Sheena’s house, and her brother, Markes, and his crew was sitting around talking. She was shocked when they started bragging about killing Ratty. She said they were dapping each other up and just drinking and smoking. I swear, when that bitch was telling me this, my blood started boiling. I wanted to pull my gun and hit that bitch, but I didn’t. I know in order to get them niggas, I might need that bitch. So I kept my cool . . . Now I’m ready to execute a plan.”

  “Yo, so these niggas stay in the Gully?” I asked him.

  “Yeah. I know the house that them niggas be at and everything.”

  “Oh, word, so what we waiting on?”

  “I just wanted to run this by you. I know some of the niggas personally, and they ain’t no soft-ass niggas. They cold-blooded killers. If we goin’ to go in, we going to have to rush them or cut them down one by one.”

  “Shit, it don’t matter which way,” I told him. “Them pussy niggas need to die for what they did. Fuck them niggas. We coming for them.”

  We sat there plotting how we were going to approach these niggas. See, it was war time, and we were going in heavy....

  * * *

  “Yo, boss. I got word where the niggas are staying at for sure,” Gio told me over the phone the next day.

  “A’ight. Round up the niggas. We need a meeting ASAP. No time to waste. I’m on my way now.” I made a few stops along the way to the bar, dropping off work to a few niggas that I had started fucking with.

  The block that the bar sat on was quiet when I approached in my car: only a few people were walking or sitting out in their yard. I scoped out my surroundings before I pulled up to the back of the bar. Everything seemed straight. I checked my waist. Even though those people inside were my family, I still came prepared, since the niggas that had touched Ratty might be lurking around, hoping to catch their next victim slipping. I entered without warning. Niggas’ voices could be heard blasting from the back room. When I walked into that room, everyone’s attention turned to me.

  “What’s up, fellas?” I gave dap to each of them.

  “Whaddup, boss?” they replied in unison.

  “I’m here. I know Gio done informed y’all why we are here on such short notice. A while back, one of these niggas took out one of our soldiers, took him away from his family, his young children. That to me is straight violation. Some of y’all were ready to go to war, but I begged y’all not to. From past experience, I know if we went to war at the time, it would be detrimental to our clique and what we’re trying to build. Not only would there be casualties, but we would also make ourselves hot, would have the police on our trail. Fast forward to today, and shit has died down, and the day is here when we will get revenge for Ratty’s death.”

  I took a pause so I could look each man in the room in his eyes. I really was trying to see the expressions on their faces. In any clique, there was always a bitch nigga. I hadn’t had the time to figure out who the bitch was in our clique.

  I went on. “We gonna ride in two cars. We gonna be in and out. These niggas are part of the Get Money Crew, and from what I have learned, they are some vicious niggas. I’m trying to say, we ain’t about to play no kind of games with them,” I warned.

  “So, how we gonna do this, boss?” Killa asked.

  “Word is they be using the back entrance. It’s a cut back there, so we gonna park beside the old house that is directly beside the crib. We gonna jump out of our cars and run directly to the back of the house. They only have two doors, the front and the back. Two niggas will stay in the car, just in case anyone runs out. And
if they do, we will cut them down. Everybody in that house needs to go,” I said, looking at my niggas.

  I continued. “This has to be done. Before the day is over, their bitches, mothers, and whoever the fuck they’re close to will be going up to Madden’s to make funeral arrangements. A’ight, y’all ready?”

  “Let’s get it,” Gio said. Then he jumped up and walked out of the back room.

  We all split up and got in two cars. Me, Gio, and Leroy jumped in an old car that Gio drove in situations like this. My blood was pumping hard as excitement rushed over me. I remembered the days in New York when we went on operations like this. We were some killers, causing havoc all over the streets of New York, especially in the Bronx. When we got near our enemies’ crib, I scoped out the front entrance and noted that the block was clear. We continued down the lane, toward the back of the house. It was our lucky day; the lane was clear. But this kind of made me nervous, since I’d never seen this lane without people out and about.

  Leroy was going to be the one that stayed in the car, just in case any unwanted visitors popped up. I parked near the back of the house, quickly jumped out of the car, and sprinted through the alley to the back door, with Gio close on my heels. One of my soldiers, Trevor, was already at the door, and as soon as he saw me and Gio, he kicked the door in. It flew open, and we went in busting. They were on point, busting right back at us. We had masks over our faces, so I knew they were trying to figure out who the fuck we were.

  I scoped out the nigga named Markes. I recognized him from a picture that Gio had shown me a few days ago. He was trying to get one of his niggas that had got hit out of the way. That nigga’s eyes and mine locked. We started busting at one another. Markes’s little gun was no match for the FN pistol that I was clutching. I ran down on the nigga, while trying to dodge the bullets he was busting. I hit him in the shoulder.

  “Yo, pussy, you just shot me,” he said as he tried firing back.

  I removed my mask. “This is for my nigga Ratty,” I said before I put half of my clip into his body. His lifeless body dropped to the floor, and I stood over him and fired one straight to his dome.

  A split second later I heard a string of shots ring out. I ducked behind the couch and tried to analyze the situation. The gunfire ceased for a second, then started back up again. I ran in the direction that it was coming from. I spot my niggas Killa and Trevor pulling a body, so I dashed over to them. I looked down and stopped dead in my tracks, thinking it was a dream. But it wasn’t. My nigga Gio, my right-hand, my motherfucking brother, was the one they were pulling. Gio’s bullet-riddled body was spread across the floor, and I saw that he had taken a couple of slugs to the chest. Blood gushed out of his wounds.

  “Yo, what the fuck happened?” I yelled, signaling with my hand for them to stop pulling Gio. I got down on my knees, dropped my gun, and checked his pulse. There wasn’t one. “Yo, we need to get him out of here fast. Help me get him to the car. Hang on, Gio. I got you bro. Hang on.”

  We picked him up and ran through the back door and to the car, where Leroy was waiting. We placed Gio on the backseat, and then me and Killa squeezed in next to him, while Trevor hopped in the front passenger seat.

  “Yo, let’s go! Gio got to get to the hospital!” I shouted at Leroy.

  Leroy pulled off and headed in the direction of the hospital.

  “Hang on, Gio. Bro, we got shit to do. You can’t go nowhere, bro,” I kept saying. In my heart I was begging God to save my nigga’s life. The fucking traffic was horrible, which made it impossible to get to the fucking hospital quickly. I knew before we even got there, my nigga was gone. Not a single sound was coming from him. I felt sick. I buried my head in my hands. I couldn’t think straight right now....

  Twenty minutes later Leroy finally pulled up to the entrance of Kingston Public Hospital.

  “Yo, pull to the side,” I said sadly. “He is dead. I’ma try to get him in this hospital real quick. Then I’ma run back out. We can’t stick around. Have too much guns and shit up in here.”

  Leroy pulled over to the side so other cars could get by us. Then I dragged Gio’s body out of the car. A security guard spotted me and rushed over.

  “Yo, help me get him in there,” I said.

  He radioed for help. Soon as he did that, I looked around, then walked over to the car door.

  “Yo, where you going? They going to talk to you,” the security guard yelled.

  I wasn’t trying to hear that shit. My knees were wobbly, and I felt nauseated. But I needed to get the fuck up out of here.

  “C’mon, Father. Get in. We got to go right now,” Leroy demanded.

  I took one last look at Gio. My heart was telling me to go be with my brother, but my mind was letting me know I needed to get the fuck up out of here. The way the system was fucked up, these guards would hold on to me, like I was the one that did this. I climbed in the backseat, and Leroy sped off into traffic.

  “Yo, Father, this one hit hard. That’s our family man,” Leroy said to me, his voice trembling. I knew he was hurting too.

  I let Leroy take me to the crib after he drove Killa and Trevor back to the bar. I needed a minute to get my mind straight. Camille was still at the crib when I got there. She came outside when Leroy and I got out of the car. She just looked at me. The tears were rolling down my face. I couldn’t even hold them in anymore.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” she inquired.

  “Ma, he’s gone. He’s dead,” I said before collapsing on the driveway.

  “Who is dead? Leroy, what he talking about?”

  “Gio dead, Camille.”

  “Are you okay, babes?” she said as she kneeled down next to me. “Leroy, help me get him inside and put him on the couch.”

  I staggered to my feet, and they helped me to walk inside the house and get to the couch. I couldn’t think straight at all. All I could see was Gio’s dead body on the ground. I knew shit was going to get sticky in the Gully, so before I closed my eyes on that couch, I told Camille to stay at the house tonight, without letting her know what was going to take place.

  It was nightfall before I awoke and opened my eyes again. Leroy was sitting close by, smoking a blunt, and Camille was sitting beside me.

  “Here, baby. Drink this.” She handed me a cup.

  I took a sip. It was Patrón. I needed this. I was hoping I would wake up from this nightmare, but seeing Leroy made me replay everything that had happened earlier, and I knew it wasn’t no dream. My nigga really was gone. From New York to prison, back to Jamaica, we had stayed in touch. We had had plans to make millions together and to take over this country.... Where the fuck was I at when a nigga shot up my brother? Anger turned into guilt. Where the fuck was I at . . . ?

  “Nah, Ma, I need sump’n stronger. Bring me a bottle of vodka and roll me up a couple blunts,” I instructed Camille.

  She appeared with the vodka in no time. As I downed the liquor, it burned my throat, but I really didn’t give a fuck. My heart was crushed. My boy, my right-hand, my brother was gone. Probably laid up on ice, all alone in the morgue. Who was going to watch my back? Life was never going to be the same.

  “Camille, my brother is gone, Ma.” Tears rolled down my face. I was a nigga who didn’t cry, but my soul had been ripped into pieces with this one. Just yesterday Gio and I were eating, drinking, and talking shit together. Just like that, this nigga was gone.

  “Baby, he’s in a better place.”

  “Yeah, yeah. God should’ve took me instead, B. Gio didn’t deserve that shit. He was a good youth. His family was depending on him.”

  “Yeah, you right, but Gio was a thorough nigga, and he know what these streets were about. I don’t know what happen, but I just know God don’t make no mistake.”

  Leroy came over to me. “Here, my nigga. Here go a big head. Camille, bring some more liquor out here. This is some fucked-up shit. Gaza need to drink and drown out this pain.”

  Before the night was over, I finished that bottl
e of vodka and two bottles of Patrón. When that didn’t drown out my pain anymore, I started on the Jamaican white rum and smoked about five blunts. Leroy and I sat out on the verandah, most of the time just quiet. When we did talk, we only shared memories of the shit Gio did to help both of us. This nigga was a real one, and I swore that God didn’t even make them like this no more. It had been a while since I got pissy drunk, but I had to block out the entire day’s events. Tomorrow was going to be a much rougher day, I knew, since reality would set in and I would have to face everyone....

  * * *

  The next day I could barely raise my head up. I was so fucked up that when I stood up, I staggered a little. Camille helped me walk from the bed to the living-room couch. After I sat down, she headed into the kitchen.

  “Gaza, here go a cup of tea. It will help you a little,” Camille said when she returned to the living room. “I talk to my girl, and she said the whole Gully are mourning Gio death. She also said about seven niggas from round First Street was found dead. She said police is everywhere. They talking about doing a curfew until they can get this killing under control.”

  I really didn’t say anything. I liked Camille and everything, but I wasn’t the nigga to start telling no bitch that I was just fucking some shit that could land me in prison.

  Leroy walked up just then. “Father, how you holding up?”

  “Hmm, I can’t even answer that, my nigga. Right now I’m numb. I ain’t got no feelings right now.” I took a sip of the tea Camille had made me.

  “Hey, boo, I’ma run some errand,” Camille interjected. “I call a taxi. I’ll come back to check on you later. I’ll call you first.”

  “A’ight, babes.”

  After Camille’s cab came and she left, Leroy took a seat across from me.

 

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