Prologue #3
Heavy’s heart filled with an emotion he hadn’t experienced in months. Pride had settled in, pushing past the grief that had been consuming him since he got out. For once, he felt like he’d done something right.
“I’m not,” Mama Dot said, following his line of sight. “You put out good into the world, and it finds a way to make it back to you. It always does.”
Heavy didn’t think he’d contributed that much good to the world, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“People loved your grandfather,” Mama Dot added. “And they love you just the same. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Heavy’s jaw slightly shifted.
On any other day, he probably would’ve brushed off those words coming from anybody else.
He would’ve nodded and let them roll off his back like they were something that sounded nice but didn’t quite fit who he was.
Today was different, though. Today, the proof was right in his face.
With Mama Dot’s help, both of their connections, and word of mouth, the place was full.
Heavy knew the city would show up, that much he expected, but this was something different.
The parking lot had been full before the first game even tipped off, with cars lined up and down the street like it was the club.
Vendors filled the outside, while smoke from grills curled into the air.
People were posted up everywhere, some with plates in their hands, mingling like this was the only place to be.
Inside, it was even bigger. Tables lined the walls with organizations passing out information for housing, job resources, health services, and more.
Barbers had clippers buzzing, ensuring their lines were crisp, and hairstylists worked just as fast, braiding and twisting, while taking instructions from parents standing close by with eyes that looked a bit lighter today.
That’s what Heavy wanted; people to enjoy themselves and forget about the stressors waiting outside these walls.
Mama Dot and a few other helpers had the kitchen under control, like always.
Heavy slightly, shook his head, the disbelief lifting off him.
He started this thinking it was just going to be a basketball tournament.
Something simple to raise a little money and bring people together for a day, but Mama Dot had other plans.
She stepped in and turned it into something much grander.
It was bigger than a few hoop sessions and the pain that started it.
Though some things were still up in the air, like what the place was about to become and what it would be called once it wasn’t just Mr. G’s Community Center anymore, Heavy couldn’t even focus on that right now.
He was just glad to have pulled it off. To anyone else, pulling something together like this on such short notice might’ve felt impossible.
To Heavy, it was everything aligning perfectly.
Once he had his mind set on something, it was nothing but motion behind his plans moving forward. Thankfully, everyone who lent a helping hand was on the same page. The right people had shown up, the right conversations happened, and the right doors opened.
“You right,” he said, nodding to himself more than anything. “I can’t do nothing but accept that.” He glanced over at Mama Dot. “You good? Everything running smoothly in the kitchen?”
She hummed, adjusting her pearl bracelet. “Mhm. Almost everything. One of the sinks in the main bathroom is leaking.”
“A’ight. I’ma go look at and try to get a plumber out here tomorrow.”
Mama Dot lightly shook her head. “You don’t have to wait that long. Mr. Joe is out there right now.”
Heavy paused. “He still be fixing up everybody’s houses?” By now, he was sure the older gentleman had retired.
“Sure does,” she replied. “You can’t tell him to sit down. Standing right out there waiting on somebody to give him something to do.”
A small grin pulled at Heavy’s mouth. “Sounds like someone else I know,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
Mama Dot playfully swatted his arm. “Oh, hush. If I sit down, who’s going to keep everyone in check around here?”
“I guess we’ll never know.” Heavy smirked, turning toward the exit. “Let me go holla at Mr. Joe real quick.”
The noise from the gym trailed behind as Heavy pushed through the double doors.
It wasn’t as loud in the hall as people stood around, talking in small groups.
Jasmine’s two youngest ran up, greeting him with hugs.
Rick was playing in the next game, and they couldn’t wait to cheer their brother on.
Heavy glanced as he walked around, searching for Mr. Joe.
“Man, there you go.”
He turned at the sound of Dre’s voice, catching him coming down the hall with a bottle of water in his hand. He’d been there for a little over an hour and needed some cool air from the outside heat.
“What’s up. Everything straight?” Heavy asked, stepping toward him.
Dre nodded. “Yeah. You been on the move since I got here, nigga.”
“I know. Every time I turn around, somebody is calling my name.”
Heavy wasn’t complaining, just stating the obvious. Mama Dot warned him how chaotic it would be, so he appreciated this quick breather. Dre looked him over for a second, smirking as if he’d just confirmed something to himself.
“You really did your thing with this, bruh. Proud of you.”
“‘Preciate that. A nigga was nervous like we were when we hit our first lick.”
They smirked, recalling the days when they were young and grimy, trying to line their pockets. The true terrorizers of the block had come a long way.
“Man,” Dre dragged, chuckling, “my stomach was rumbling like a mothafucka. This is different, though.”
“Not for real. I walked into this shit blindly, too, not knowing the outcome.”
Dre spread his arm out, motioning to all the people. “Looks like a damn good one to me. Mr. G probably up there grinning, happier than a mothafucka.”
Laughing, Heavy couldn’t help but agree. “Hell yeah. I lowkey think him and Mama Dot was fucking around while I was away.”
“Shit, I wouldn’t put it past them. He was an ol’ fly nigga, fasho. Mama Dot is a looker still. She was a baddie back in the day.”
“Nigga, how you know?” Heavy asked, humored.
“You know them old heads at the shop be talkin’. Fuck all that, though,” he said, switching topics. “What time this over with?”
“We put five on the flyer, but you know how that shit goes. Folks gon’ still be mingling and shit. Why?”
Dre grinned as his phone vibrated with a text, and a woman with a cold, jet-black pixie cut stopped in front of them.
“Hey, Dre,” she greeted with a smile while leaning in for a hug.
Dre returned the favor, leaning down to embrace her small frame. “What’s good, Simone?”
“Not much. Hey, Heavy,” Simone acknowledged him, letting her eyes linger longer than what was considered appropriate.
Heavy chucked his head upward, knowing what type of time she was on. Bopping ass, he thought, and Dre smirked. Simone focused her attention back on him.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yeah, been here for a lil’ minute. Who you here with?”
Simone glanced down the hall where her crew was buying cupcakes from a little girl. “My sister and cousin. Y’all should pull up on us later.”
Her suggestion sounded good, but Dre already had plans. He didn’t let her know that, though.
“That’s a bet. Hit my line later,” he told her.
Simone smiled. “Sure thing.” Her attention flicked back to Heavy one more time before she turned and walked off down the hall.
Their eyes were glued to her bubble-shaped ass. The way it bounced in the jeans shorts she had on made them shake their heads, before looking at one another and chuckling.
“She was gon’ eye-fuck you right up out yo’ drawls like a hoe,” Dre cracked.
“Hell nah. She cool, but her sister finer,” Heavy complimented.
Dre’s head shifted, glancing down the hall where Simone and her sister stood. “Shit, they both some heat. Not colder than lil’ baby who on my line, though,” he said, cheesing.
“Smitten ass.”
“Gotta be. She gotta nigga bouta pull up on her right quick,” Dre expressed, typing out a text.
“Tell her to swing through here. She ain’t doing shit.”
“We might swing back up here later. She just dropped her kids off with her people for the night.”
“And look at you.” Heavy chuckled. “Can’t wait to get to the pussy and eat up all their snacks.”
“I ain’t buy em’. Might as well,” Dre said, laughing. “I’ll hit yo’ line before we leave the crib. Sky mentioned some party at the club later. You trying to slide through?”
The club scene wasn’t his thing, but Heavy figured he could fuck with it for the sake of celebrating.
“Yeah, we can.”
“A’ight bet. This her right here,” he said, before answering his phone. “Yes ma’am? I’m on the way.”
Heavy smirked, listening to his boy cupcaking. It was rare for him to take a woman seriously, so he was sure whoever the woman on the phone was, had only captured his interest for the month.
“Be safe, cuz,” Heavy told him as they slapped hands.
“Fasho. Tell Mama Dot to save me a slice of strawberry cake. Yeah, hello?”
While Heavy went to search for Mr. Joe, Dre headed toward the exit, getting stopped a few times before he finally made it outside. He squinted, blocking the sun out of his eyes as he maneuvered to his ride. The woman on the phone couldn’t wait to see him, and it was evident through her tone.
“You told me you were going to be here three hours ago, Drevonte,” she whined, dragging out his government name.
Dre smirked. “Don’t start all that whining, Shantrease. Since we calling people their real names and shit. I’ma be there in a minute.”
“But I love your real name.”
“What else you love?” Dre asked, pulling open his driver’s door.
He knew she was smiling without even seeing her face.
“I love...” She hesitated, teasingly, making him wait on purpose since he was late. “I love you, and I can’t wait for you—”
“Yo, Dre!”
Her next words went unheard as Dre’s head snapped up, his attention instantly shifting to the black Acura sitting in front of his car.
“You ain’t get so lucky, huh?”
Recognition hit him fast, but it wasn’t fast enough.
Dre’s body tensed as his hand went toward his waist, but he didn’t have time to grab what could’ve possibly saved him. Gunfire ripped through the air as shots rang out, shattering the glass. A bullet ripped his body before he had time to duck.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
The count got lost as Dre’s body jerked.
The force of the shots knocked him back against the doorsill before he collapsed halfway into the car.
Every single shot intended for him made contact, making the shooter’s message loud and clear.
The phone slipped from his hand, clattering against the pavement.
“Dre! Drevonte! Oh, my God!” Shantrease’s voice belted through the speaker, but it wasn’t reaching him.
Choking, Dre gasped for air he couldn’t seem to catch as the Acura peeled out of the lot with screeching tires. They disappeared just as quickly as they came.
For a second, everything stilled. Then, more chaos erupted.
Screams echoed in the distance, people yelling Dre’s name.
Doors flew open as bodies rushed in all directions.
Some people ran towards him, while others ran back inside the building just in case more shots rang out.
Everyone wanted to know what the fuck had just happened.
Life happened.
Dre laid slumped, unmoving, with blood pooling beneath him as his phone sat a few feet away. Mama Dot didn’t lie. The good Heavy put into the world that day showed up.
But so did the bad.
It found its way back, and unfortunately for Dre… it found him first.