Dear Summer (21 page)

Summer walked into the room and saw what was going on. She screamed. “Tommy! Put the gun down!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Q held his hands up. “Nigga you ain’t gonna kill me. You ain’t got the heart to kill nobody.”
Tommy fired the gun. The bullet hit Q in the leg and he fell to the floor.
“Motherfucker, did you think you would live to see your child?” Q’s eyes grew as he stared down the barrel of the gun. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s talk.”
“Talk? Now you want to talk?” Tommy slapped him with the gun. “Before I was a snitch; a few minutes ago I didn’t have the heart to kill yo punk ass.”
“Tommy please don’t kill him,” Summer said.
He turned and faced her.
“Don’t want me to kill your baby’s daddy, huh?”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble. I could care less about this nigga.”
Tommy yanked her by the arm. “Get over there where he is.”
“So, nigga, did you think you would kill my pops and get away with it?”
“I didn’t kill yo pops.”
Tommy fired another shot, hitting him in the shoulder.
“Oh God! God the bullets are so hot. I need water.”
“Water? You don’t need no water, you’re going to be dead in a minute.”
“Tommy please think about your life. You’re too young to be in jail the rest of your life.”
“Summer, you know I wanted a baby.”
“I know you did and you still can Tommy, you’re only 32.”
“Summer, how can you have this motherfucker’s baby?”
“Tommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that he knew you.”
Tommy placed the gun up to Q’s temple. “Did you think you could play me and get away with it?”
“No.”
“I think you thought you could play me…thought that I wasn’t going to find out, huh?”
“No, I swear to you it didn’t happen the way you think.”
“I’m a snitch, right?”
“I don’t know,” Q said, “All I know is what Squirt told me.”
“Your boy told you I snitched on him.”
“I need water, please, let me get some water…I think I’m going to die.”
“You are going to die. I’m going to blow your fuckin’ brains out.”
Summer grabbed Tommy’s arm. “Please! Please, Tommy, don’t do it!”
“You killed my pops.”
“No I didn’t. Really I didn’t,” Q said. Sweat poured down his face.
“And fucked my lady; got her pregnant.”
“I didn’t know she was your lady.”
Tommy fired the gun. Q’s head exploded like a watermelon on pavement.
Summer screamed, “Oh my God, Tommy! Have you lost your fuckin’ mind!?”
He put the gun up to her head.
“No, Tommy!”
“Do you know how much you hurt me?”
“Please, Tommy. Please don’t do it.”
“I gotta do this, you don’t understand.”
“Tommy, I have a baby on the way.”
“I know, but it’s not my baby.”
She grabbed his arm. “Tommy, give me the gun.” He held it tightly.
“You don’t want to kill me.”
“I don’t want to kill you, but I’m hurt.”
“Let go of the gun.”
He released it. She put her arms around his waist and held him.

When J-Black arrived in the mall parking lot, he looked around for the man he was supposed to meet. Tommy said he would be driving a Ford F150. After circling the parking lot for five minutes J-Black spotted the car, so he parked in front of the mall in the space right next to the handicapped space, just like Tommy told him. The white man parked the F150 and walked over to J-Black’s vehicle. J-Black popped the lock and the man got into the car.

J-Black pulled the gun from his waist. “Give me the fuckin’ money.”
“I ain’t got no money.”
J-Black pumped two shots into Matt’s chest.
ATF, DEA, and FBI agents came from nowhere.
“Oh shit,” J-Black said as he attempted to raise his gun.
Forty-seven rounds of shots were let off into J-Black’s vehicle. He died at the scene.

John Bailey thought it was just another day at the river, until he saw a man’s hat and cell phone, and a ring on the bank. He put his pole down and walked around the river with his dog Oscar to see if he could find the person the items belonged to. He didn’t, and Oscar, his faithful hound dog, didn’t pick up a human scent, so he fished ‘til about noon, occasionally wondering where the person was who’d left the items. Several hours later he was leaving the river and he saw a black SUV parked on the side of the bridge. He pulled his old pickup beside the SUV thinking maybe the owner also owned the items. He opened the unlocked door and found a note lying on the seat.

Life was hard and never fair, I have lived 32 years in this world and the world was never fair to a real black man. The so called American Dream has always been unattainable to most of the people who come from where I come from. See I came from the bottom of the bottom of the barrel. I don’t want to come off as bitter, but more of a man that states facts. In my life I had a little fun, had some blessings, but I have always been running and chasing that dream, that unattainable dream. Dealt a little drugs…not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Some might say you didn’t have to deal drugs, but I think I had to. I had to be a criminal to get the things that I felt I deserved. I mean, why should my life be dormant when billionaires are taking shuttles to Mars for the hell of it? My mother died when I was young, and I was raised by my stepfather who was later accused of rape by a white woman. He served time and was later found innocent of the crime; happens every day. A black man looks like a criminal because he’s a black man. My stepfather was killed a few days ago. Now that he’s gone and me being with no kids I have nothing to live for. My only request is that whoever finds this letter call Angie at 704-555-0009 and tell her I love her.
Tommy

I have always loved you. Okay, I had another woman, but hey, what man don’t? The point I’m trying to make is that we could have had something special. I think we had something special, but now all of that is over. You had no self control. You had to go out and fuck somebody, huh? You just had to do it. And to make matters worse, you fucked the nigga that I couldn’t stand. Somebody that wanted me dead. The man that killed my father. There’s a lot you didn’t know about me and Q’s history, or maybe you did and you just didn’t give a fuck. But really, I didn’t want it to come down to this, but put yourself in my shoes. A motherfucker talking shit about me saying that I’m a snitch, something that I have never been. And to make matters worse, the nigga killed my stepfather. The only man I have ever loved. Summer, I would have bet my last dollar to anyone that you would have been loyal to me, but you weren’t. I don’t know why I love you, Summer. You hurt me so bad.
Tommy
Sent via Sprint PCS Blackberry

You don’t know me, my name is Jerome but they call me Squirt. Q’s friend. He told me to write you if I had something to tell him. Well I do. I need you to tell Q that Tommy had nothing to do with me getting busted. I got my discovery motion back today and it seems as if my dumb ass baby’s mama forgot to register my tag. Tell him to apologize to Tommy for me and also tell him that I need some money on my books; maybe a hundred dollars should hold me.
Squirt

Summer read the letter over again. From what she could gather, Q thought Tommy had snitched on his friend, so he tried to kill him, but Tommy wasn’t nobody’s punk. He went to war against Q and his people. People died, a love triangle spurned, and a baby was on the way. What a perfect book. She at least had something to write about, and she had to write it. She didn’t have a baby’s father and didn’t have a job. She thought it was depressing how things had turned out. She rubbed her belly and thought of her child as a blessing.

Angie was at work when she received a call from a private number. She answered it.
“Hello.”
“Hey, baby.”
“The news said you were dead.”
“I know, but I’m not.”
“Thank God,” she said. She was elated. He could hear it in her voice.
“Come outside.”
She grabbed her coat and went outside. Tommy was in a green Ford Explorer. She got in the truck smiling. She hugged him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
He kissed her lips.
“I’ve got some good news.”
“What?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He took a deep breath then hugged her tight. “I’m so damn happy,” he said. He knew he would have to live life as if he were dead because if the police found out, he would have to be on the run…but it was better than being dead.

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