Chapter 2 #2
My grandmother shook her head. “Nope, you probably out here putting your lil thang in everything, which is not making her secure. Get your shit together and commit. Committed men live longer. ”
I chuckled. “Ain’t nothing ’bout me lil, Grams.”
“I don’t wanna hear that. Apparently something is off. But what I’m saying is, you wanna be with her, don’t you?”
“Ain’t no want to. I’m with her and only her. She just gotta get out of her head.”
“Then show her that. And when she gets here, bring her pretty chocolate self over here. We miss seeing her.”
The door in the front opened and immediately Killah walked in. “What y’all in here talking about?” he asked.
“You and why you don’t have anybody.” Grams started with him, so I shut the fuck up and walked back over to my mama to steal a piece of chicken. It was time for them to tag team his ass now.
He laughed. “Damn it’s like that, Grams? I got somebody but she ain’t fuc—messing with me like that right now.”
I chortled. He knew why shorty wasn’t messing with him like that.
“Yo, you laughing? Didn’t Kars say she was done with you?” he asked, walking over and kissing my mother’s cheek.
“And what did I tell her when she said that dumb shit?”
“Posydiann Murphy. Language.”
“My bad, but he knows what I’m saying.” I accepted the chicken from my mama, grilling Killah.
He waved me off. He knew like I knew that Karsyn wasn’t going nowhere and that was on me.
“While I go sit in the car, tell them about Jordyn.” I hightailed right out the front door. He had just entered as soon as I said that shit.
“Who is Jordyn?” I heard my mama ask right before the door closed.
When I stepped off the porch I was immediately slapped with the strong aroma of the purest weed. Leave it to my Uncle Leo to be sitting on the porch blowing trees with his piece right next to him, ol’ crazy ass.
“I thought I heard yo’ voice.” He sat on the stairs, pulling from the blunt, staring ahead.
“Yeah, what’s up old school?” I descended a couple stairs to stand in front of him.
“Can’t call it. Out here tryna find my peace of mind.”
I nodded. I knew both my grandmother and mother ran him ragged when he was home. He often spent days at his girlfriend’s spot in Marshall Row.
I spent a minute outside talking to him before Killah came out. He was grilling my ass, but that was his fault, because he damn sure started it. Unlike me, he lived in a condo in Uptown while I lived right next door to our nosy ass Grams and my mama. So I couldn’t keep shit to myself.
We pulled up to a local Waterboy hangout, me unaware of why we were here, but knowing Killah, it was something which was why any time I got in the car with this fool I was strapped. It was an unspoken rule with us.
“What are we here for?”
“You've been looking for that young bull who put hands on his moms, right?”
I nodded, mentally picturing the older woman who stayed up the block from me.
Her bright skin had been blue and purple the last few weeks.
She told my mother that her son Shaun had done it and it was just my luck that he hung his stupid ass around Waterboy territory.
Men who put their hands on women should’ve been put down like rabid dogs, especially anybody who put hands on his mama.
That right there was the cardinal sin in my eyes.
That, to me, was punishable by death, but then it would cause more pain to the mother.
So in my eyes he’d only live for her peace of mind.
“I had somebody on the lookout. He’s up here and unsuspecting as fuck, probably thinking he’s kicking it.”
I nodded, rubbing my hands together.
I got out of the car and followed Killah into the lil hole in the wall.
Firecrackers on the corner of Hollis and Fifty-third had seen better days.
From what I knew, it had been around since way before I was born.
For as long as I could remember, this had been a hole in the wall with multiple purposes, but too much loitering.
To make matters worse, it was extremely humid inside and always funky.
It was borderline annoying, because how the hell were they passing inspections like this?
I leaned back against the dingy counter, eyes locked on the crowd of hustlers talking loud as fuck. They were so caught up in conversation that they didn’t know we were here. The only person who did was the man by the door who I assumed was unofficial security.
“Yo, which one of y’all’s name is Shaun?” Killah asked, his voice heavy and authoritative.
Everybody stopped talking, immediately focusing their attention on Killah.
A stocky brownskin youngin’ in a dirty white T-shirt stood up quickly. “Me, what’s up?”
I nodded, then pushed off the counter, moving toward him. When I was in front of him, he didn’t even see my fist coming. By the time he realized what was happening, it had already connected with the side of his face.
“Don’t fight back. You're gonna make that shit harder on yourself,” Killah said, standing off to the side when Shaun decided to square up with me instead of taking the ass whooping I’d saved for him.
I pulled my piece from my side and handed it to Killah, squaring up right back with him. I was way too old to be out here squaring up with youngins, but a lesson had to be taught.
He threw a sloppy jab in my direction, not landing, leaving his face open. Biggest mistake.
I followed up by decking his ass dead in the face. He fell back against one of the other youngins who immediately pushed him off.
I took that as my cue and finished his ass with two body shots and an uppercut.
“What did I do, man?” He was laid out on the floor probably seeing stars.
“You put your hands on your mama and I don’t play that.
” I looked up from him at the other faces, all of which looked at me with confusion.
“He ain’t allowed on no block I own. As a matter of fact, anybody putting hands on a woman ain’t allowed to step on my streets.
” I raised my voice a little, so I was heard and didn’t need to repeat myself.
“And go apologize to yo’ mama, bitch.” I spoke down to him, then exited the same doors I’d entered less than ten minutes ago.
“I see somebody retained Unc’s boxing lessons,” Killah said as we walked out.
I laughed, thinking back on our childhood. Unc knew we hugged the blocks even when my mother didn’t. He made sure we knew how to protect ourselves and never became a mark to a soul.
“Probably did, but I’m damn sure too old to be using them.”
“No shit. You know these young bulls are eating, sleeping, and shitting fast food and pills. If he would’ve gotten the upper hand on you, I was clearing the spot and we were keeping that between us.”
I laughed, because one thing about my blood, he always had my back. It had been this way since we were kids and his mama dropped him off and never came back.
“You're laughing, but I’m dead ass serious. Hand was on the pistol the entire time,” he said once we were in the car.
“I already know. Trigger happy ass.”
He laughed. “What’s up with Junior? He's straight?”
I already knew why he was asking about Junior. “Better be. He just asked me for a car. The fuck he gonna do with a car?”
“Drive it, duh.”
“See that’s that shit. You are on his side too much. He doesn’t even have a permit. Who's gonna teach him how to drive?”
He laughed. “Don’t they teach that shit in the schools?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Where did you learn?”
“Onna streets right along with your non-driving ass. Every single time Unc set those keys down we were up. I got my license at twenty something but have been driving since I was fourteen.”
I chuckled because he was right. When we were around my son’s age, no car keys were safe. “Nah you right, ’cause I went with you. Lemme get this lil nigga some lessons.”
He laughed hard as hell and so did I. Our upbringing was nothing close to my son’s and that was only because I made all the mistakes and sacrifices so he didn’t have to. My boy was gonna be better than me in every aspect, even if I had to fight him every step of the way.