Crackhead II: A Novel (11 page)

“Yo, Dirty, look man, we got off to a fucked-up start when you first came here.”

“Why you so goddamn cocky, man? I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t know, man,” Smurf answered honestly. “My momma always had these niggas running in and out the house for as long as I could remember. I had to be cocky ’cuz them niggas would put they hands on my moms and I wasn’t havin’ that shit.”

“You know yo’ daddy?”

“Naw, I don’t know his ass. I don’t know whether or not to hate him because my momma ain’t never talk about him until recently.”

“Well lil’ nigga, I ain’t have no son either. Dink talked highly about you so when I met you, I thought we could take this shit on the streets to the next level. You a good student, Smurf, you just need to know when to back it down and when to step it up. Why don’t you just let me teach you instead of you trying to fight me on shit, man?”

Smurf sat back and listened. He appreciated Dirty’s openness.

“So what’s up with you tonight?” Smurf asked. “You look like shit.”

Dirty twisted his lips. He knew he looked like shit. “Nothing, man.” He wiped his forehead with his hand as if he were trying to wipe away a memory. “Just got a lot of shit goin’ on these days.”

Smurf thought back to his mother and their growing distance. “Me too, man, me too.”

D
EMOND HAD FINALLY
tracked Gloria down. He’d heard word on the streets that she was back in the old neighborhood but hadn’t had the nerve to find out for himself, until now. “Glo,” he called out when he saw her emerge from her building. He had been sitting outside for hours, and he knew she had to leave sooner or later.

She turned to see who was calling her name.

The car Demond was driving was a magnet to her. She knew the person had money just by the newer-model BMW, but the look of hope on her face vanished when the window rolled down.

“Baby, can I talk to you?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” She continued to walk.

“I know why you feel that way, but just hear me out. After we talk, if you still want me to go, then I will.”

Gloria could do nothing but comply. “Come back in two days. Five o’clock in the afternoon. If you’re not here, then there’s nothing to say.”

Gloria knew she needed that time to prepare herself emotionally to hear what Demond had to say. He’d left her high and dry, and she had questions she was determined to get answers to.

Two days later, at five o’clock, Demond was at Gloria’s door, knocking. He knocked again in anticipation of seeing her.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said when she opened the door. He handed her a bouquet of gas station flowers.

She grabbed the flowers out of his hand. “You got two minutes to talk. So talk.”

“Gloria, I don’t know where to begin.”

“How ’bout from the beginning? Why you push me away?”

“Baby, when I went down, I knew cops would come looking for anyone who was affiliated with me. You were only seventeen. You didn’t need to throw your life away because of me.”

“Demond, you should have let me decide that. You burned rubber on me and didn’t think to look back. I wrote you, you returned the letters. I tried to visit you, you refused to see me. My life has been nothing but shit since you’ve been gone. I’ve been waitin’ for you all these years and you could have had the common courtesy to tell me what you wanted me to do, instead of pushing me away.” Gloria was in tears. “My heart hurts, Demond. I couldn’t let you go.”

“Do you think it was easy for me to do what I did?” Gloria’s words had cut into Demond like a knife. “No, but because I loved you more than myself, I gave you a chance at another life. Not a life of always looking over your shoulder with a nigga like me.”

“You shouldn’t have decided that for me. That was my decision. I’m tired of all the men in my life try’na tell me what’s best for me.”

Demond saw the hurt in Gloria’s eyes. “You’re right, baby. But I’m back. I have seventeen years to make up to you. The decision is yours—let me make it up to you or send me back to where I came from.”

A
S THE DAYS
went on, Laci felt more comfortable at school and with that, she began to trust others and gain more confidence in herself. Even though she had access to the cool million that her father left her, Laci continued to live as a regular college student, and unlike the South Bronx Bitches, the people around her didn’t feel threatened by her presence.

Laci’s Algebra class let out and she gathered her belongings to leave the room. Just as she began to walk out, someone called her name.

“Laci! Wait up!”

She turned around and saw two white girls and one biracial girl walking toward her. Instinctively, Laci’s heart began to race.
What do they want with me?
She continued to distract herself by gathering her books.

“Hi, Laci!” the tallest of the three spoke. “I’m Meranda, this is Gabrielle,” she pointed to the biracial girl, “and this is Samantha.”

“Hi!” Gabrielle and Samantha said enthusiastically, in unison.

“Hi,” Laci replied, although apprehensive. “It’s nice to meet you.” She noticed that each of the girls was dressed nicely. Meranda’s baby-blue and white Gucci track suit with the GG
monogram matched her blue and white custom Gucci sneakers, and the black Gucci purse she carried set off her style. Gabrielle wore a Liz Claiborne acid-wash miniskirt, with a red leotard and black Liz Claiborne riding boots. Samantha’s tight-fitting acid-wash Guess jeans and a white-collared long-sleeved shirt made her look immaculate, and a black belt showed off her small waist. She had on black Aigner riding boots and a black bag to match. Each of the girls wore diamonds in her ears.

“Hey, aren’t you in my Oral Communications class?” Laci asked Gabrielle.

“Yes I am,” Gabrielle exclaimed, glad that Laci recognized her. “Girl, the paper you read about self-reflections was the bomb!”

“Thanks.” Laci smiled, flung her backpack over her shoulder, and began walking.

“We’ve been trying to get at you for a few weeks,” Meranda confessed.

Laci looked up at her. “Why?”

“No reason, you just look cool. Not fake like most of these chicks around here.” The other girls nodded their heads. “So where are you headed?” Meranda asked. All of the girls began following Laci.

“Um, I was going to grab something to eat at the cafeteria. What were you all doing?”

“We were headed to the cafeteria too,” Samantha confirmed. “Do you mind if we go with you?” Each of the girls smiled at Laci, waiting for her answer.

They’re not the same kind of girls, Laci. It’s okay. Go ’head.
Her inner self spoke and she had to trust her judgment. “No. I’d love the company and I’m starving!”

The girls chatted about what most eighteen-year-old girls talk about on their short walk to the cafeteria—shopping. It was
a far cry from what Tonette and her crew would talk about. Sensing that the girls had no ulterior motive, Laci began to let her guard down.

As they walked to the cafeteria, Laci saw Dink walking toward her.

“Hey baby,” she said as they met up. The girls looked on, wondering who Laci was talking to.

“Where you going, babe?” He looked at Laci and the girls that were with her.

“Lunch, but hey,” she looked at the girls then back at Dink, “let me introduce you to my friends. This is Meranda, Gabrielle, and Samantha.” She looked at the girls. “Ladies, this is my boyfriend, Daryl.”

“Hi Daryl!” they all said in unison, grinning from ear to ear, looking at him.

“Wassup.” He acknowledged them with a nod.

“You wanna join us?” Laci asked.

Looking at the girls, Dink thought against it. “Naw baby, I’ll just see you later.” He bent down and kissed Laci on her lips and walked away.

The cafeteria looked different to Laci—bright, clean, and not overwhelming. She and Dink often ate together and she sat while he got their food, but today, Laci was able to get her own and it felt good.

Once all of the girls had paid for their food, they bumbled their way through the crowded cafeteria to find a place to sit.

“So Laci, where are you from?” Meranda asked after settling into her seat, as she cut into her tuna sandwich with a plastic fork.

“I’m from the South Bronx.” Laci put her spoon into her chicken-and-rice soup, stirred, and tested the warmth with her tongue.

“The South Bronx?” Meranda asked, taking a bite of the sandwich. They all looked at her in amazement but with concern. “Isn’t that kinda rough?”

“Yeah, it is, but I lived in Riverdale to be exact. Most people don’t know about Riverdale, so I just said the South Bronx. Everybody knows about that.”

“Oh yeah, Riverdale. I heard of that,” Samantha said, putting dressing on her chef salad. “That’s a nice community.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” Laci looked among the girls. “So where are y’all from?”

“I’m from Boston,” Meranda said, opening up the bag of chips she’d bought with her sandwich. “We live in the South End.”

“I’m from California,” Samantha chimed in, “Orange County specifically.”

“And I’m from Upper West in Jersey,” Gabrielle said as she dug into her cheeseburger like it was the last meal she’d ever have.

Laci knew that she would fit in with her new friends. They were a lot like her—they were privileged to have more than the average person. Even though Laci thought it would be easier to not be around people like her, the summer proved differently and she welcomed them.

“Did you ever go to the heart of the South Bronx, where all the stuff was going on, Laci?” Gabrielle asked. “The news always reports stuff going on there. It’s just horrible!” She frowned.

“You’re right, but that’s why I’m here,” Laci told her, ignoring her initial question, “to get away from it all and start my life over again.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” Meranda said.

Gabrielle and Samantha agreed.

Laci smiled and realized that she finally fit in with people who liked her. She was able to enjoy life.

D
IRTY AND SMURF
began spending a lot of time together. They had been traveling more often between the South Bronx and Harlem. Unbeknownst to Smurf, Dirty was training him for the next level in the operation.

A couple of days later, at Dirty’s suggestion, Smurf called an emergency meeting at the corner store. Both men sat inside the office and waited for the crew to show up. Smurf normally held their meetings on Monday, but a lot of shit had popped off since their last meeting.

“It’s important to keep your workers on their toes and not be too predictable,” Dirty told Smurf. “Although they’re your boys, you have to know their whereabouts at all times. This is where Dink fell short.”

The sound of feet stomping down the stairs alerted the men that the crew had arrived. “Boss man,” Drake acknowledged Smurf, interrupting his thoughts, as he entered the office before the rest of the troops showed up.

Smurf looked up. “Whoa . . . ,” he exclaimed when he saw
Drake’s brother in tow, in his uniform. “What the fuck?” Smurf reached for his gun.

“Hey man,” Dirty grabbed Smurf’s wrist, “everything’s cool,” he assured him as he looked among the three men. “Come on,” he nodded for Drake and his brother to enter the office, “it’s time for the meeting to begin.”

“Everyone’s not here yet, man,” Smurf reminded Dirty.

“Yes they are.” Once they were all inside the back room, Smurf closed the door.

Smurf was glad that Lil’ Rob wasn’t around, because the dude would have gotten smoked with a quickness.

Dirty looked at his young protégé. “The rest of your crew ain’t coming. That was an exercise to see how quickly they would respond to you, and it looks like you got the crew you need to back you up, man.”

Smurf was getting angry. He felt like he’d been tricked. He looked at Dirty, at the cop, and then at Drake.

“Make this good,” Smurf demanded. “You know this ain’t good for business.”

“Look, man, just calm down for a second,” the officer said seriously. He was older than Smurf, and more logical, but he also knew of Smurf’s rep. “I’m one of y’all. I was working for Dink over on Tremont.”

“I knew most of the people he dealt with,” Smurf told him seriously, not recalling his face.

“That’s nice and all that you think that,” the officer said in a serious tone. “But you didn’t know all of us. You were his heat, but Dink had a long reach and had corners everywhere. Actually, you gave my brother my corner, yo. I was around way before you came along.”

“I don’t give a damn if you were around before me,” Smurf said defiantly. “It’s not even the fact that you a fuckin’ pig. Right now, it’s the fact that you up in my spot, with yo’ fuckin uniform on, man.”

The officer rested up against the wall of Smurf’s office and looked at Dirty.

“It’s all part of the game and it was carefully planned out.”

“What you mean?” Smurf looked at the officer, then at Dirty.

“What we doin’ right now is just child’s play. Crack is just the beginning,” Dirty told Smurf. “We ’bout to take this shit to another level and we decided we needed someone on the inside who could help us.”

“What you mean, ‘we’?” Smurf questioned.

“We, meaning me and Dink.”

“He knows about this?”

“Oh yeah, we handpicked this nigga right here,” Dirty said, looking at the officer.

“Yep, they did,” he confirmed. “Dink wanted an inside man on the force; that’s why he got me off the streets. Nigga had me in school and everything. Made sure I made good grades and stayed out of trouble. I couldn’t be a part of the fuckin’ academy and hang out here slangin’ rock. The NYPD investigates all of their wannabe cops and their families. How would it look with me out there with a fuckin’ record, saying I wanna be a cop?” He watched Smurf closely and was glad to see him take his hand off his gun. He knew that Smurf was hotheaded and had a trigger finger.

Smurf looked closely at him and calmed down as he tucked his gun away.

“Yeah, so you know we cool like that. I’m Terrance, Drake’s
brother.” Smurf didn’t respond. “But I believe you wanted this.” Terrance handed him copies of the information that Drake had asked him to get.