4. Global “Dice” Jamerson #2
“Listen here, Fred.” Pop Pop’s voice stayed calm, which somehow made it even scarier. “Yo’ damn words will have you floating with the fishes when it comes to mine.” He pointed toward us with the knife. “Don’t let that bullshit mouth write a check yo’ ass can’t cash.”
“Damn, Larry, I ain’t know.”
“Who gives a fuck muthafucka what you ain’t know?
” Pop Pop snapped. “That shit was disrespectful. Regardless of what he is, that’s my blood, and you a damn guest on my porch.
He could walk up here dressed like a damn crimson red Big Bird for all I give a damn, and bet not nan nigga betta have shit to say. ”
“Dang, Larry June,” Coca laughed. “What’s up with you and Glo when it come to the color red?"
“Coreal?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Shut yo’ shit up, I’m busy.”
“Yes, sir. I was just sayin’.”
Pop Pop shot Coca a look, and Coca zipped his lips with his fingers.
“Fred, ain’t nobody said shit about yo’ daughter with seven kids and five baby daddies, so you keep yo’ fuckin’ duck lips off the business at 1333 River Lake.”
Fred tried to apologize, but Pop Pop wasn’t hearing it.
“As a matter of fact, the card game is over.”
The other men groaned.
“Fellas, we will resume tomorrow. I’m gonna spend some time with my grands. Fred, you take a few days off and learn some damn respect fo’ you bring yo’ monkey ass back ‘round these parts. You already know I don’t pull it and not use it. You got a pass dis time.”
Fred tried to apologize again, and Pop Pop waved him off. The men folded up their chairs, and some of them took the ones they brought with them.
Pop Pop took care of us after our mothers were killed, and when Granny-Day passed away, it was all on him. My father was in prison serving life for killing the man who murdered our mothers, and Coca's father wanted nothing to do with him after he came out of the closet.
As for us, we left the judging to God. I hated people who walked around acting like they had a heaven or hell to put somebody in.
Coca was family, and that's all that mattered.
We loved him for who he was and prayed that all of us had a relationship with God that would continue to shape and change us.
“My bad, Pops,” Coca said as we came up to the porch and took a seat.
“Oh boy, please. I’m old skool, but I love yo’ sassy-twist ass. You, Hips, and that lil nigga that don’t look nothin’ like us…DNA test still out on him,” he said, talking about my poor baby. “But y’all have my whole heart. Well, as much as I have left.”
It got quiet.
I already knew what he meant by that. It's been over two decades since our parents' deaths and Granny Day’s passing away. It doesn’t get easier. Some days just better than others.
“Larry June, I might have a baby on the way,” Coca blurted out.
My head whipped his way.
I was grateful for the shift, but out of all the damn things to say…
I knew he was trying to change the mood, but why did he pick that to say?
“Coreal, what delusional broad done let you put yo’ sugar in they damn tank?” he said with a straight face.
I bit my cheek, trying my best not to laugh.
“Whyyyyy must you say datttt?” Coca’s dramatic ass dragged out every syllable while clutching his pearls. Definitely making the situation worse.
Pop Pop shook his head, picked up his sweat towel from the table, wiped his face, and removed his ball cap to wipe his bald head.
Coca was stressing him out.
“Coreal, you gon’ have to bring that gal round here so I can break the news to her real slow.”
“Pop Pop, what you gon’ say?” I said, entertaining this foolery.
“I gotta break this down fo’ her. What’s her name, Coreal?”
“Sarah.”
“Jesus, this boy don’ went and got a palm tree.”
I had tears coming out of my eyes, but I was trying my best to hold it together. He called all white folks palm trees. Shit was mad funny.
“Larry June, if you must know, she is not white.”
“What color is dis gal, Coreal?”
“Black.”
“What she missing, Coreal? What is it, an arm? A leg? A few fingers or toes? She don’t sound like she need no damn green card, with a name like Sarah. But then again, you never know these days.
“No, she’s normal,” Coca let him know.
“Can’t be.” Pop Pop frowned. “You better not be out here on that DL. You let that gal know you part of them damn letters and rainbows. Sarah must be one of them trans-dykes.”
That was it.
Coca broke character, and I hollered.
“Pop Pop, what the hell is a trans-dyke?” Coca screamed, holding his stomach while laughing.
“You know... born a gal but dress like a boy.”
“She black, so they prefer to be called a stud.”
“Well, same shit.” Pop Pop shrugged before holding his hands out for Revv. “Come here, baby boy. Hips, you sure this youngin’ wasn’t switched at birth?”
“Please, leave my baby alone.”
“I’m just callin’ it like I see it. This lil’ boy don’t have our cheekbones, eye color, head shape... nothin’. He still got that little wobble walk, so I can’t judge him by that yet, but hell... he might not even have that.”
“Well, he’s mine. They put matching hospital wristbands with the barcodes on both of us before they took him to get cleaned up.”
“I’m still pissed ‘bout gettin’ on that damn air-ro-plane,” Pop Pop fussed.
Coca snickered.
The old man preferred to drive, so when it was time for me to have Revv, he had to get on a plane for the very first time.
I still don't know what was worse, the days of labor pains or trying to guide his hardheaded ass through the airport over the phone, explaining which terminal to find and what gate to stand at.
Pop Pop didn't give a shit about my contractions.
He fussed the entire trip, and once they made him put his phone on airplane mode, Coca caught pure hell when he picked him up from the airport.
Thank God my induction was scheduled, because this grumpy old fool would've missed the whole thing.
“When you gon' tell that man?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, you betta make it right. I ain't raise no cowards.” He nodded toward Coca. “Hell, even Hoola Hoop done turned the knob to his closet.”
“Thanks, Pop,” Coca said.
“Boy, dat ain’t no damn compliment. I’m just statin’ facts.”
Coca shot him a mug, and Pop Pop shot one right back.
These two.
“Got me feelin’ like Samuel L. Jackson in that Capital One commercial...”
The three of us said it together.
“What’s in your wallet?”
We all burst out laughing, even Revv with his nosy butt. The little man had no clue his lil’ self was tucked away in my wallet.
“Global, baby, sometimes it’s best just to rip the Band-Aid off. One look at this joker, and the jig is up.”
“I keep tellin’ her that,” Coca chimed in.
I rolled my eyes.
“Dang, y’all. It ain’t that bad.”
They both slowly turned their heads toward me.
I lowered mine.
“Alright. I’ll tell him as soon as the gang is done with this next job.”
“You betta...or I’m takin’ my black ass down to Monroe’s to get the pappy.”
“I promise.”
Revv started squirming to get down and waddled straight over to Coca, probably lookin’ for more cheese puffs.
“Alright, y’all done stayed long enough,” Pop Pop said, pushing himself to his feet.
“Huh? We just got here.” Coca narrowed his eyes.
“Boy, I said what I said. Time’s up. Get the hell off my porch.”
“Larry June, we already know you got a girlfriend,” Coca teased.
“See? Negro, worry ’bout yo’ closet and stay the hell outta mine. And quit sayin’ girlfriend. Make that shit plural when speakin’ on Larry June.”
“Well, excuse me, playa.”
“Coreal, only one woman will ever have loyalty and my heart, God rest her soul. I’ll leave that puppy love to you youngins.”
“Listen to him, Coca.” I laughed.
“Trust. I’m listening,” Coca said, looking Pop Pop up and down in disbelief. This man had no filter.
Pop Pop held out his hand and gave me a wink for good measure.
“Hips...let me hold somethin’. I got a cruise comin’ up.”
How he askin’ for money with his hand already out?
“What you need?”
“What you got?”
“Lemme see,” I said, standing to my feet.
I wasn't about to argue. When Pop Pop wanted something, he usually got it.
I headed around to the back of the house and grabbed a shovel before making my way to the shed.
Footsteps crunched behind me.
“You need help?”
I smiled and shook my head.
“I knew you was comin’.” I pointed toward a flowerpot tucked in the corner. “Dig under that pot and grab ten bands for you and Revv. I’ll work over here.”
My stash wasn't buried deep—just deep enough for me to know if somebody had been snooping around.
Pop Pop and Coca knew the life I lived. They didn't like it, and they definitely didn't approve of it, but they respected my decisions because they understood my goal.
I wasn't trying to get rich, just comfortable enough to set up my family, me, and Revv. Unlike my sisters, I still had my family to take care of and a father in prison who I would never let go without. That’s why I gambled on the side.
I had a plan. Although I hated to think about it, I had to make sure they knew exactly what to do if I ever got jammed up.
The gang wasn't ready for our last bank yet... But when we were... That would be the end of this life.
I just had to keep my head down until the final heist.
Ross Savings and Loan.