Eastside (22 page)

“Ooow!” Slow Poke cried out in pain. “Shit! That hurts!”

Travon walked Slow Poke to the other side of his car, opened the door and helped him in. He then turned and walked to the driver's side and climbed inside.

“You know, if I had a strap, I would have killed you when you opened that door to get in,” Slow Poke told him. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Travon started his car and pulled away. They could see flames from automatic weapons here and there, as they exited the club's parking lot. Inside of the parking lot, there were several cars riddled with bullet holes, and a few wrapped around a light posts.

“So, where are you taking me?” Slow Poke asked him. “To the country to kill me, or to the Heights so you and your Slob-ass homeboys can torture me first?”

“I'm taking your Crab ass to the hospital,” Travon told him.

“What?” Slow Poke shouted. “Awww, ain't this some sweet white-ass movie shit! I just smoked two of your homeboys tonight! If I live to see you on the streets again, I'm a smoke your Slob ass too!”

Travon smacked his lips. “Shut the fuck up!”

“A fuckin' Slob, taking me to the hospital! I don't believe this shit! What the fuck have you been smoking, cuz?”

Travon shook his head and maintained his silence.

“You know what?” Slow Poke told him. “That's why East Terrace is on top, 'cuz y'all Slobs is weak!”

Travon kept silent.

“If you was a real soldier, you'd a let Quentin and Tech Nine smoke me, and then you would have smoked them,” Slow Poke told him. “That's what I would have done.”

Travon still did not respond.

Slow Poke became angry. “What movie have you been watchin'?”

Travon turned toward him. “I'm not doing this for your Crab ass, I'm doing this for my homeboy's T-lady.”

“What homeboy?” Slow Poke asked.

“My nigga who got killed.”

Slow Poke turned and stared out of the window. “Hmmm, a Slob that got smoked?” He turned toward Travon. “The one we killed in the Rigsby last week?”

“No.”

“That nigga we killed at First Stop last month?”

Travon nodded. “Aw hell, I smoked that bitch myself!” Slow Poke told him.

Travon's grip on his Street Sweeper tightened. He was beyond angry now. “No you didn't. One of your Crab-ass homeboys got off a lucky shot.”

“Okay, but I wish I would've been the one to smoke your homeboy!”

Travon's anger had built to the point where he could do one of two things. He could either pull the trigger, or laugh. He laughed.

“You're trying hard, ain't you?” Travon asked.

“Man, what is this cornball cracker shit?” Slow Poke shouted. “Let me the fuck out!”

Travon leaned forward and placed his Blood and Crip
Bangin On Wax
CD inside of his CD player. He selected the “Piru Love” track and turned up the volume.

Slow Poke turned toward Travon and frowned. “Fuck that bullshit, cuz. I'm a smoke your ass good for disrespecting me by playing that ho shit.”

“Not if I smoke you first,” Travon told him. He turned to Slow Poke. “Let's get something straight. I don't know you and I don't know you. I don't like you and I really don't give a fuck about you. If I see you in the streets, I'm a smoke your bitch ass. I'm giving you a pass. A one-time-only pass. This is just for my homie's T-lady.”

“Your homeboy must'a not been much of a soldier if this is for him,” Slow Poke told him. “You supposed to smoke my ass for your homeboy.”

“Just shut the fuck up, we're almost there!” Travon shouted. “And be the fuck still! You're leaking that Crab juice all over my seats, Blood!”

Slow Poke turned and stared out of the window, and smiled. “What's your name, cuz?”

“Why?” Travon replied. “And, nigga, I don't answer to that muthafuckin' ‘cuz' shit either.”

The boys sat quietly for the remainder of the trip. Soon, Travon pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He turned toward Slow Poke.

“Get the fuck outta my shit,” Travon told him.

Slow Poke smiled, displaying all twelve of his gold teeth. He might actually live through this, he told himself. He knew a bad wound when he saw one. And
he
had a bad wound. He opened the passenger side door and climbed out of the vehicle, and then quickly turned back toward Travon, pointing a nine-millimeter Sig Sauer handgun at his face. Travon was petrified.

“I didn't smoke Tech Nine and Quentin because I couldn't reach it. It was in the small of my back. I don't know why I didn't smoke you. You get a pass, a one-time pass. If I see you again on the street, it's on. No passes, we're even. I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to enjoy doing it.”

Slow Poke uncocked the pistol's hammer and then released the clip, which slid out of the weapon and onto the passenger's seat. He laid the weapon down on the seat next to the clip. Travon's eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

“One last thing,” Slow Poke told him. “Get out of the game; you don't belong in it.”

Slow Poke closed Travon's car door, and slowly staggered into the hospital holding his stomach. Travon laid his Street Sweeper down and lifted Slow Poke's weapon. There was a round inside of the chamber.

Travon carefully moved the slide forward again and tossed the weapon back onto the seat. He shook his head. He couldn't save the old lady, he told himself. He couldn't save the little girl in the park. But at least there would be one less funeral. That one was for you, Mrs. D. Now, he thought, he would do something for himself. He was going to take Tamika and their child, and he was going to get the hell away from this place.

Travon shifted his car into gear and drove off into the night.

“I
am
going to get the hell away from this place,” he whispered.

Aunt Vera's House
Days Later

“Shit, one time is still sweating us,” Darius said. “They have been running up on us every fuckin' night since the concert.”

“Say, Tre, I thought you was gonna break camp on us and head to Big D?” Marcus asked.

Travon nodded. “I was, but Tamika is trippin'. She don't wanna go now. She wants to wait until she has the baby, and then leave.”

“Man, everybody done got ghost and bailed outta town,” Lil Fade said.

Suga nodded in agreement. “Ain't too many of us around. I'm a catch out myself, and head back to Florida for a minute.”

Darius turned to Suga. “Where Big Pimpin take off to?”

“Shit, him, Fro-Dog, Red Rum, and Bull went back to Cali,” Suga told him. “Charlie Brown bailed to Atlanta, Kilo went to Mississippi, and Goldie went back to Memphis. Shit, I heard that some of the homies bailed to Kansas City, Tulsa, and Little Rock.”

Darius shook his head. “Damn, we probably won't hook back up for at least a couple of months.”

“We got to get the fuck outta town, D,” Marcus told him. “Man, I ain't down for taking the blame for what went down at the concert. A muthafucka get electrocuted a thousand times for all that shit.”

“We gonna need some snaps to get gone,” Darius told him. “I spent my ends on getting another ride.”

“Say, Blood,” Lil Fade said enthusiastically. “I know a real quick lick we can hit, and get away cleaner than a muthafucka.”

Darius turned and stared at Lil Fade like he was crazy. “One time is already hot, we can't make no money because they keep running up on the cuts, the straps is getting low, and you wanna pull off another lick?”

“We got paid hittin' Dejuan's ass,” Lil Fade told him. “We got over ten grand a piece for five minutes' worth of work. Think about how many nights we'd have to spend on the cuts to get that. You get another ride and hook it up, just like that. It's a win. We can hit, divvy up the snaps, and be in the wind before anybody knows anything.”

Travon did the numbers inside of his head. He had ten grand from the lick on Dejuan, plus the money that he got from Too-Low, plus the yea that he had already sold. He had forty thousand dollars cash, and about eight thousand dollars' worth of jewelry. Still, it wasn't enough to quit forever. He wanted to quit and walk away for good. He turned to Lil Fade.

“How much we talking?” Travon asked.

“Eighty grand in cash, plus jewelry, plus straps!” Lil Fade replied.

“Bullshit!” Darius told him.

“I'm not bullshitting,” Lil Fade told them. “I don't fuck around when it comes to money.”

“Who is it?” Marcus asked.

Lil Fade shook his head. “What is it, would be a better question. It's the Easy Pawn on Austin Highway. It's a pawn shop, a jewelry store, a gun shop, and a check cashing place all rolled into one.”

Travon began adding again. The pawn shop job would net him another sixteen thousand, and that would put him over the top. With that kind of money, he was sure that he could convince Tamika to leave with him. She could go to school in Dallas, and he could go back to school, obtain his diploma and work. He turned to Lil Fade.

“When?” Travon asked him.

Lil Fade shrugged. “Shit, this Friday is payday. They will have stacked up on money to cash all of them damn checks.”

Travon nodded. “I'm down.”

“I'm with it,” Suga told him.

Darius folded his arms. “Let's hear it.”

“We need some sacks, some towels, gloves, masks, hammers, and some flu wear,” Lil Fade explained. “We get a couple a cars, and some of our silenced straps. Tre and Marcus will steal a car from the mall, and we'll follow them to another mall, where we'll park D's car. We'll park some fresh plates from a car at that mall, and bail to the pawn shop. We gonna do it early, while everybody is still at work. That way we get more money because they ain't started cashing checks yet. We'll mob in the store dressed like Crabs. Marcus, you'll stay in the car and pop anybody that tries to roll in or run out of the store. Tre, you will hold the door open, just in case it has an automatic lock on it, plus you'll watch our backs from the door. Suga will mob straight to the back room and keep everybody there under wraps. You'll also have one of them crack the safe for you. Just in case you have to drop somebody, you'll use the H&K-MP5 with the silencer built into it. I'll use one, and Tre will use the other.”

Lil Fade began pacing. “Marcus, you'll use the Smith and Wesson nine-millimeter with the silencer on it. Me and D will mob through the store with some hammers, break the display cases, and bag the jewelry and straps. D will get the jewelry and I'll get the guns. Then we'll get the registers, while Tre times the whole thing. We want to walk in, get the shit, and walk out. We don't want to be in the store no more than two minutes,” Lil Fade told them.

“Then we'd better bring Capone,” Marcus told him. “He'll clean out the registers, while you and D hit the display cases, and Suga takes care of the safe in the back.”

Lil Fade nodded. “Good idea. I'd like to have Capone in on something like this anyway.”

“I'll call and hip him to the game,” Darius told them. “So who's gonna use the other pistol with the silencer?”

“We ain't gonna take it,” Lil Fade answered. “We just gonna use the three silenced HKs, and the one silenced pistol.”

“So what am I gonna use, my finger?” Darius asked.

“Naw, you're gonna use the FAMAS, and Capone will carry the AKM,” Lil Fade explained. “We are gonna need some fully automatic shit in there, just in case things don't go right. The nine-millimeter HKs just won't do the trick when in comes to slicing through walls and intimidating people.”

“Why do I gotta use that French piece of shit?” Darius protested.

Lil Fade shrugged. “Then use one of the L-8s.”

Darius laughed. “Now you're really trying to kill me.”

“Then use one of the Styer AUGs,” Lil Fade told him. “I just need for you to carry something small, but with enough firepower to help regulate shit. Remember, it has to be small so you can sling it over your shoulder and move around when it comes time to use the hammers. You know we don't have a lot of shit left. Mr. C is changing barrels on almost everything we got. That's one of the reasons why we gotta hit this lick!”

Darius shook his head and smiled. “I'm down, but if you wanna get rid of me, then shoot me. Don't have me go in there with some French piece of shit that's gonna break down after two shots.”

The boys laughed.

“All right, Friday we are doing this,” Lil Fade told them. “And then we are all gonna get the fuck outta town, right?”

“Right,” Marcus agreed.

“Yeah.” Darius nodded.

“Cool,” Suga agreed.

Later That Evening

“Yeah, but what about your aunt in Colorado?” Travon asked. He shifted the telephone away from his now tired right ear to his left one. “What did she say?”

“She said that she would love for us both to come and stay with her,” Tamika told him. “But my mom doesn't want me to leave until after I have the baby and finish high school.”

“You're gonna finish school, you're just gonna do it in Colorado,” Travon told her.

“I don't understand what the big deal is about leaving, Tre. Why can't we wait? You know that it's always been my dream to go to Spelman. I want to join a sorority like the one my cousin is in. You said that you'd watch the baby for me while I was in school, and that I could come and live with you and the baby in Dallas. Those were our plans, and I don't see why you are trying to change them.”

“Tamika, I got to get away from here,” Travon pleaded. “I got to get outta this place. You don't understand, it feels like I'm running out of time. It feels like the walls are closing in on me or something. I have to get away, I'm running out of air.”

“Boy, what's wrong with you? What are you talking about? Why are you tripping? I want to go to college. I want to go to step shows, and football games, and pep rallies. Why are you trying to ruin things for me, Tre?” Tamika said.

“I'm not,” Travon replied. “I thought that you wanted to be with me, that's all. I want to take care of you and I want to take care of my baby. I thought that you wanted to be together forever and have a family with me.”

“I do, but there are other things I wanted to do with my life too. Things that I wanted to do before we even started going together.”

“Okay, Tamika, we'll do it your way. You're right, you're always right. I've just been looking at it wrong. I have to go, I'll call you later.”

“Tre, don't be mad at me. I don't want you to hang up mad.”

“I'm not mad, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“Yeah, same here. 'Bye.”

“'Bye.”

Travon turned and slammed the phone down onto its base. “Stupid, spoiled bitch!” He fell back into a nearby recliner and rubbed his tired eyes. Soon, he drifted off into a much-needed sleep.