Bury Me a G 3

by Tranay Adams

  Helen blew hard thinking on when the last time she’d seen her neighbor’s son. “That was a couple of days ago. He was playing basketball out there with a couple of the neighborhood kids. You seen ‘em, you were out there that day, remember?”

  “Yeah, I...”

  “Heeelllp!”

  Chevy frowned and looked up at Helen, still only able to see her silhouette. “What was that?”

  “Oh, that’s the TV, I’m sorry.” She tucked her banger at the small of her back and stepped out on the porch, pulling the door shut behind her. The burly woman folded her arms across her ample bosom, tucking her hands underneath her armpits to keep them warm. It was kind of cold that night. “Jesus, it’s chilly out here.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She agreed wearing a saddened expression across her face. When she looked up at her, she saw her eyes rim with tears that threatened to overflow. She didn’t have any kids, but her nephews were as good as her own children. The loss of the youngest one had crippled her greatly, the night before she was lying in a tub of warm murky water attempting to slit her own wrist with a Gillette shaver. She’d written a suicide note and left it on the bathroom sink. If it hadn’t been for Wicked knocking on the door, interrupting her with his plan to murder the men responsible for his younger brother’s death and needing her assistance she would have gone through with it. That’s when she decided to fall back and kick it on earth just a little while longer to guarantee that her nephew’s executioners were brought to justice.

  Helen knew exactly how Chevy must have been feeling at that time and her heart went out to her. Helen, ol’ girl you need your fucking head examined, she thought. She decided she was about to tell Te’Qui’s mother that he was being held captive down in the basement by her nephew until he gave up the name of the man that had given them the drugs to sell.

  “Listen,” Helen began, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I...” The words died in her throat when she saw Wicked driving up from down the block, headlights and music blaring. Dr. Dre’s Xxplosive was serenading his journey.

  Fuck a bitch

  Don’t tease bitch,

  Strip tease bitch

  Eat a bowl of these bitch,

  Gobble the dick

  Hoes forgot to eat a dick can shut the fuck up!

  Gobble and swallow a nut up,

  Shut up and get my cash

  Backhanded, pimp slapped backwards and left stranded

  Just pop ya collar, pimp convention hoes for a dollar

  Six-Deuce in a plush, six-deuce Impala

  Pimpin’ hoes from Texas to Guatemala

  Bitch niggaz paid for hoes, just to lay wit hoes

  Relax one night, and paid to stay wit’ hoes...

  The presence of loud music stole both women’s attention. When Chevy turned back around, Helen cleared her throat and focused. “Like I was saying I could get a couple of Missing Persons flyers printed up and post them up in the neighborhood if you’d like.”

  “Please.” Chevy wiped her dripping eyes with a curled finger. “Something like that would definitely help. Thank you. I’m gonna go down to the police station and see about filing a police report. I know it’s supposed to be 48 hours before you report anything, but screw that. I can’t sleep at night knowing that my child is probably in his drawers and chained up inside of some psycho’s basement.”

  Helen raised an eyebrow. She found it eerie that she’d guessed that right on the nose.

  “I hear you. You do whatever you have to do to find your boy.”

  “Okay.” She moved to head down the steps, but froze once she was called back. She turned around.

  “Whatever you have to, you hear me?” She gave her a stern look, eyes glassy with seriousness. “You don’t want the heartache that comes with losing a child. Believe me, I already lost one of my boys.”

  “Alright.” She went on about her business.

  Helen closed the door shut and headed back inside of the house. She wanted to tell Chevy that Te’Qui was down in the basement, but feared what Wicked would do to her if he knew that she’d ratted him out. For now, she’d play it cool until she found an opening that would allow the boy to walk without her nephew even knowing. All she had to do was get that goddamn key off of his neck. She could relieve Te’Qui of his restraints and allow him to escape. Next, she would break her own nose and make up a story. She’d tell Wicked that the kid had picked the lock of his shackle and cracked her across the bridge of her nose with a blunt object of some sort.

  That’s it, that’s the plan. I got it, Helen thought as she headed down into the basement.

  When Chevy was coming down the steps Wicked was murdering the engine of his BMW and hopping out. He locked eyes with her, but kept a neutral face.

  “Hey, Wicked, sorry for your loss.” She said as they crossed paths.

  “I’ma be sorry for yo’ loss, too, if Te’Qui don’t tell me something,” he said under his breath.

  Chevy froze. Her brows furrowed and she turned around. “Excuse me?”

  “What’s up with it, Chev’?” He raised his eyebrows and threw his head back.

  “Did you say something?”

  “Just what’s up?”

  Chevy narrowed her eyes and nodded, before keeping it moving to her ride, thinking nothing of it.

  ***

  “Uuuhhhh.” Te’Qui slowly came to groaning and rubbing the lower half of his jaw. His eyelids peeled apart and he looked around with blurred vision, trying to focus. When his 20/20 finally adjusted, he saw Baby Wicked’s Aunt Helen sitting in a chair before him, gripping a handgun firmly. Her face was still partially hidden by the shadows and he couldn’t make out her eyes. He hadn’t a clue of what she was thinking or what her facial expression was. This made him uneasy. He kept an eye on her hand as she placed a cigarette into her mouth and fired it up. She took a deep pull and polluted the air with smoke. Te’Qui gagged and coughed with a fist to his mouth, inhaling the smothering fumes. He’d always hated the smell of nicotine. It was the equivalent of a noose tightening around his throat anytime he came into contact with it.

  Te’Qui’s coughing ceased when he saw Helen rise from the chair. This sight set off a panic alarm inside of his head. His heart pummeled against his chest bone rapidly and he scrambled backwards on his hands and bare feet until he bumped up against the wall. His head whipped from left to right looking for somewhere to escape. Jumping to his feet, he ran to his right, moving shit out of the way and kicking it aside. His back was against the wall and he was desperate for a haven to flee to, no matter where it may be. When he didn’t find anywhere to hide, he raced over to his left. He knocked boxes out of the way, pushed furniture aside, and flipped tables over, scrambling to get away.

  “Haa! Haa! Haa! Haa!” His shoulders and head bobbed as he breathed hard. Looking up, he saw Helen’s shadow moving up the wall as she advanced. The little nigga gasped and whipped around, zeroing in on the gun in her hand.

  Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

  His heart rate jacked up and his eyes bulged. He swallowed the extra spit that had accumulated in his throat as his eyes searched the room again for something to defend himself with. They located a dusty lamp off to the corner on top of an old tattered end table. He darted toward the end table, feeling her right on top of him. All he had to do was grab it and clock her ass. Te’Qui was in motion, moving like a track star, when—Clingggg!—the chain snagged him just short of reaching the lamp and he went falling to the floor, hard.

  “Huuughhh!” He grimaced, feeling the wind knocked out of his lungs felt like a gut punch. Hearing Helen’s footsteps at his rear, he turned over swiftly, prepared to meet his demise. His brows mushed together and his jaws squared. His nostrils flared as he looked up at his late friend’s aunt, giving her a look that could cause instant death.

  “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt chu, Te’Qui.” She outstretched her hand.

  The youngling narrowed his eyes at her hand, looking upon it like it was a veno
mous snake. His head shot up and he locked eyes with her. “I’m not stupid.”

  She took the square from her mouth and released a flutter of smoke. “Boy, if I wanted to hurt chu I would have already, trust me. Ain’t nobody here to stop me. Come on.” She motioned for him to take her hand.

  Te’Qui weighed her words and figured he didn’t have anything to lose by taking her helping hand. Smack! His palm sounded when it collided with hers, her hand grasped his and she pulled him to his feet. She snatched up a milk crate and planted it in the center of the floor, waved him over and told him to have a seat. Cautiously, he approached and sat down on the crate. She returned to her chair and sat down, tapping her Joe and dumping ashes on the floor. She took another draw and unleashed smoke that drifted in his direction like a cloud. After watching him frown and fanning the smoke away, she knew that it was getting to him.

  “Sorry.” She dropped the cigarette near her flat and mashed it out, her shoes spreading black ashes on the floor.

  “Are you gonna let me go?”

  “Are you gon’ tell me who gave Brice those drugs to sell?”

  “Hell n...” He caught himself and cleared his throat. “No, ma’am, I’m notta rat. I can’t tell.”

  “I thought my nephew was your best friend.”

  “He is.” He nodded in agreement, his face becoming somber at the mention of his deceased best friend. “We were practically the same type of person. I know he’d respect what I’m doing. In fact, he’s one of the people that drilled that no snitching thing into my head. I’m only honoring his wishes and sticking to my beliefs.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You boys and your codes. Not everyone sticks to those street codes, you know. Plenty of people have broken those rules.”

  “I’m not plenty of people, I’m Lil’ Q-Ball from the set.”

  She looked away and massaged the bridge of her nose. “The ignorance of the youth.” She licked her lips and looked up at him. “So, you’re willing to throw your life away for this?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m willing to die for what I believe in, just like any other man.”

  Her forehead deepened with creases. “You’re a brave soul. A brave, brave soul to be so young.”

  “Truthfully, I’m afraid, but it’s like Pac said, I’d rather die like a man than live like a coward.”

  “I commend you, young man.”

  “So, are you gonna let me outta here?”

  She took a deep breath. “If it were up to me I’d unlock that shackle and let chu waltz right on outta here. But I don’t even have the key. Winston took it with him. He wears it on a necklace around his neck.”

  “Damn.” Te’Qui cursed under his breath, dropping his head. He looked back up. “You think there’s any way that you could possibly get it?”

  “I could try.”

  “Thanks.” Things were silent for a time before he spoke again. “Why are you going to help me even though I won’t tell you what you wanna know?”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve always looked at you as one of my nephews.” She admitted. “You being killed out there wouldn’t have hurt me any less than it being Brice.”

  “Then why’d you go along with kidnapping me? That doesn’t make any sense.” He frowned.

  “Winston was so goddamn adamant about finding the guy that gave you guys the drugs. Seeing the hurt in his eyes behind the loss of his brother, I couldn’t turn him down.” She confessed. “I was satisfied with the death of the bastard that actually pulled the trigger. His life being taken was enough for me.” She clenched her fist so tightly that it slightly shook. Her eyes were glassy and glinted with madness. She blinked and opened her hand, and just like that, the hatred dissipated. Helen exhaled and ran a hand down her face. “Unfortunately, the deaths of Maniac and Time Bomb weren’t going to pacify him. He won’t be good until you give up that name. And I assure you that he won’t hesitate to torture you for that bit of info.” She spoke seriously, gazing straight into his eyes. “Winston is not all there upstairs, and I’m sure you’re aware of this. He’s a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic basket, you know? He’s always been off, since before his parents were murdered.”

  “Auuntyy!” A voice called out then there was the squeaking of the steps as someone was descending them.

  Helen’s head snapped toward the staircase as she made Wicked’s shadow on the wall of the staircase. Her eyes widened and she looked to Te’Qui.

  “Oh shit!” He hopped to his feet looking spooked, taken off guard when he saw Wicked’s aunt charging at him. Before he could react, she was whacking him across his dome with her gun. The blow sent him falling back, knocking the milk crate out of the way. He held the side of his head and looked up at her like she was crazy. Helen stood over the young man, looking back and forth between him and the shadow on the wall as her nephew neared.

  “Shhhhh!” She hushed him, holding a finger to her lips. “I gotta make this look good, play like you’re hurt.” He nodded and fell back hollering like he was being beaten. She pretended to be kicking and stomping him when she felt her nephew at her back. “Lil’ bitch ass nigga!” she shouted down at him and harped up a glob of spit, hawking down on his face. Breathing hard, she turned around to her nephew, wiping imaginary sweat from her forehead. “This lil’ fucka’s tough, Winston, I’ve been going in on ‘em since you left and he won’t come up off of jack shit.”

  “It’s alright, he’ll eventually talk.” Wicked told her, looking over at a sprawled and unconscious Te’Qui. “This lil’ nigga gon’ have to wait though. I’ve got bigga fish to fry at the moment.”

  “What’s that?” she asked curiously.

  “The less you know, the betta.”

  “Don’t go holding out on me now, you’ve already gotten me knee deep in this shit.”

  Wicked rolled his eyes and blew hard, not feeling like hearing her pissing and moaning. “I gotta cap this nigga in order for me to be square with this other nigga, the end. Okay? Ya happy now? Jesus.”

  “Watch how you talk to me now. I had a hand in raising you.” She wagged a finger in his face with a fixed frown on her face.

  “Ahhhh. You’re killing me, woman.” He threw his arm over her shoulders, shaking his head with a slight smile. “Come on, let’s go upstairs to bed.”

  “I’m exhausted. I could use a couple of Z’s.”

  “Me, too. A nigga tired as a runaway slave.”

  Te’Qui kept his eyes closed until he was sure that they were gone. As soon as he lifted his head from off of the floor the light inside of the basement was shut off, leaving him in darkness. He sat up where he lay with his knees at his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on them. Closing his eyes, he hummed a song to himself that his mother used to when he was a little boy. A tear descended his cheek and he realized just how much he missed her. That night he made a promise to himself that he was going to do any and everything he had to do to get out of that hell and get back home.

  Chapter Five

  Bianca’s forehead wrinkled when she heard knocks at the door. She looked up at the cable box and saw that it was after twelve o’clock. Creeping over to the door, she peered out through the peephole and was surprised to see him on her doorstep. She didn’t know why he was there at that hour, but it had to be important for him to just pop up.

  “Gimme a sec.” Momentarily, she left the door and returned slipping on a housecoat. She opened the door and was taken aback when she saw him cradling a baby in his arms. His banger was tucked in the front of his jeans while his other hand clutched a black plastic bag. His head was snapping in every which direction, as if he was expecting someone to leap out from hiding and attack him. He wasn’t scared, just alert. And she couldn’t blame him, especially with all of the shit he and Threat had been known to be into.

  “Is everything alright?” Tiaz gazed into her eyes, stiffening his jaws. He held contact for a time before looking away and blowing hard. He didn’t have to say a word, she
already knew what it was from the jump. Although she knew that this day was coming, she was still shocked. Her boo was active in them streets, so his death date had already been marked on the calendar. Bianca felt like the wife of a marine that had been killed in active duty. And Tiaz was the ranking officer that had been sent to deliver the bad news. Damn! No matter how much a person prepares for something, he still is never ready for it when it happens.

  “Ahh...” She slapped a hand over her mouth, suffocating the whimper that dared to escape her lips. Her vision became slightly obscured as tears welled up in her eyes, outlining the rims of them. Her body shook a bit and tears jetted down her cheeks. She closed her eyes then peeled them back open. He heard her gasp, overwhelmed by the hurt. She took her hand from her mouth and held onto the doorway, hanging her head as she tried to pull herself back together. She took the time to try to calm down and steady her breathing. His brows furrowed and he moved to help her. She threw up a hand and said, “Stop. I’m fine. Really.”

  Her eyes wandered down to the baby in his arms then back up to him. She raised an eyebrow wondering what was up, because she knew for a fact that he didn’t have any children. He looked from little DJ then up to her, understanding what was on her mind.

  “I’ll explain everything. Can I come in or are you good?” He inquired. “If so then I understand.”

  “No. No. Come in.” She pulled the door open wider and wiped her crying eyes with the back of her manicured hand.

  “Thanks.” He made his way inside where he sat down on the couch. He watched Bianca close and lock the door behind him. When she turned around she locked eyes with the baby, smiling through her tears and hurt. Quickly, she wiped her face with the sleeve of her housecoat.

  “Can I?” She referred to her holding the baby.

  “Yeah, come take this lil’ nigga.” He held little DJ out. “I stopped and got ‘em some diapers and some milk. You mind feeding and changing ‘em?”

  “Sure.”

  Bianca took the baby and the black bag from him. She laid the little guy on the couch and went about the task of changing his diaper. She disposed of the dirty pamper and made him a bottle of milk. After testing its warmth, she scooped little DJ into her arms and shook him so she could feed him. She grinned lovingly as she stared down into his face. Her manicured finger outlined the side of his face and tickled his chin a tad bit. Seeing the child brought her back to the night where she’d lost her own child and met the man of her dreams.