Hood (14 page)

How you gone come at your father?

That’s like a character in a book tryna come at the author!

THE GAME DIDN’T
change for Sackie when Hood got snatched off the streets. If anything, it had gotten even grimier. Hood hadn’t even been in cuffs for more than a few hours when the hood alarm sounded, signifying that trouble was on the streets and that Dreko had bounced and was absent from the game.

Sackie’s gutta instincts were really on fire a week or so later when Xan called him down to Fat Daddy’s shop to tell him about a little organizational restructuring.

“You next, baby!” Xan told Sackie. Business was booming in barbershop-land and Xanbar was now raking in all of Fat Daddy’s profits. Every chair in the shop had a street hustler sitting in it, and even more cats was congregating around waiting their turn to get trimmed up. “So congratulations. Unless them motherfuckers get soft and turn Hood loose, you the number one man on your strip now. You runnin your sector.”

Sackie kept his mouth closed. Word on the street spread fast. It didn’t take no mathematician to figure out that shit wasn’t adding up. Chaos’s night crew had been tied up and gun-beat. His mule had taken one to the throat, then lost possession of his product. Hood got knocked, and Dreko got ghost. And now Sackie was supposed to get out there and play front-man in one of Xan’s largest sectors? He felt like a white-ass sheep getting set up for slaughter.

Xan turned and nodded to Lil Jay. “Nigga, that means you number two now. Live up to that shit.”

Lil Jay got swole. “Man, you gone elevate this cat on top of me? What? I followed behind Hood, now I’m supposed to follow behind his pale ass too?” He shook his head and frowned, defiant. “Hell nah. Why I gotta roll second to a fuckin white boy?”

“White boy?” Xan looked around. “What white boy?” He glanced over his left shoulder, then over his right. “You talkin ’bout Sackie?” He laughed. “Nah, you got it wrong, Jay, Sackie ain’t no white boy. This cat here is a down-ass
nigga.
This dude been ya man since the sandbox and just ’cause he a light-skinned G you got problems with him?” Xan laughed again. “Sackie’s my number one nigga in your sector.” Xan’s eyes suddenly became cold and dangerous. “You got that?”

“So whattup with Dreko then?” Lil Jay pressed. “All of a sudden that dude’s whereabouts are a big mystery. I thought he was next up?”

At the mention of Dreko’s name razors stopped buzzing, all talk ceased, and every ear in the joint went on high alert.

“Dreko…” Xan said, twirling his thumbs. Sackie could feel the danger in the air and sensed he was about to get caught up in it. “Oh, don’t worry about that nigga. He gone get set straight.”

Later that night Sackie found himself sitting in on a death council in the back of Fat Daddy’s shop, right in the same room where Hood and Moo used to sleep. Fat Daddy had been barred from his own establishment, and right now he was huddled upstairs in his apartment, guarded by four goons. For months Xan had had his ass on a total debt repayment plan. Not only wasn’t Fat Daddy making a dime off the shop’s register, all the hot shit he hadn’t gambled away had been dished off, the proceeds going straight into Xan’s pocket.

Sackie wasn’t feeling the shit that was about to jump off. Hood hadn’t been able to save Fat Daddy from Xan’s deadly wrath, but with Dreko and a stolen half mil in tan goods missing, somebody had to pay. For the hundredth time he hated what Dreko was about. He hated that his sister had gotten so deeply involved with him even more.

“So that’s how it’s gone be,” Xan said, finalizing things. “Dreko gotta pay. Easy, you and Gardner, I want your crews out there sniffing for that muhfucka,” he ordered. “Fif, y’all niggas go get Fat Daddy. Tell him he better get on the phone and say good-bye to his fuckin daughter ’cause his clock just ran out.”

Ten minutes later Sackie and Lil Jay stood by as Fat Daddy was muscled down the stairs and into the back room. His mouth had been gagged and his hands were taped behind his back, but that didn’t stop him from struggling.

“Omhueee! Eeeeuh! Ohh!” His muffled cries were pitiful as he let his weight fall back against the goonies while he tried to kick out with his feet. Two niggas went down under all that glob, pulling Fat Daddy down on top of them. His legs flailed in the air as he screamed and tears fell from his eyes. “Eeeee-uh! Eeeee-uh!”

Sackie looked away when he realized that Fat Daddy was calling out his last words to Egypt. Fif stepped around the bodies struggling on the floor and gun-smashed Fat Daddy across his mouth, cutting off his cries. Blood soaked the rag that had been stuffed halfway down his throat, and Fat Daddy went limp.

A true product of the hood, Sackie had seen many cats get theirs. A couple of times he had been the one giving it to them too. That’s how shit went on the streets. Anybody could get took down at anytime. But still, it was hard for him to watch Fat Daddy get worked over. Yeah, the dude had fucked up and lost his spine, but c’mon…Sackie couldn’t help curse that slimy fool Dreko. All this shit woulda been squared up if Hood hadn’t gotten knocked. If the drugs had been delivered to Xan as planned.

Xanbar’s boys worked quickly on Fat Daddy. In minutes he was hog-tied to his barber chair and the rags removed from his mouth.

Xanbar taunted him. “What’s that you tryna say, nigga? Huh? Oh, you got my money? Where it at then, big man. Where it at?”

Fat Daddy babbled. “Please man! C’mon, Xan. Hood gone get you the money! My boy gone come through. I swear to God!”

“Hood knocked, nigga! Got himself a piece of that big stank rock!”

Terror shone in Fat Daddy’s eyes. “This me, Xan! This ya Fat Daddy! We been through a lotta good shit over the years, man! I been down for you your whole fuckin life!”

Sackie turned his head. He couldn’t stand to watch Fat Daddy beg.

“Fuck all that. You know the rules, muhfucka. You trampled on my doe,” Xan said. “And that shit is unpardonable.”

“I was your
man
,” Fat Daddy pleaded. “And you can do some shit like this to me? Huh? My little girl
loves
you, and you know I’m all she got, Xan! Man you can do this kinda shit to
me?
”

Xanbar frowned, and moved in closer. “Now you graspin, nigga. You desperate, and you graspin. This ain’t about Egypt, fool. You knew you had a daughter when you was out there overstating ya fuckin bets.”

“FUCK YOU!!” Fat Daddy screamed. It was his time to die and the cruelty in Xanbar’s eyes told him there was no hope left. Sweat dripped from his face and his eyes bulged. He strained against his binds, his flesh jiggling as blind rage consumed him.

Lil Jay stepped out the way as Xan cursed and lunged. He grabbed one of Felton’s electric clippers from his station and rammed it straight into Fat Daddy’s mouth. The big man yelped, then gurgled, choking as Xan drove the clipper home, stuffing it as far down his victim’s throat as he could.

Fat Daddy thrashed against his ropes. With wild eyes, he whipped his head back and forth desperately trying to dislodge the clippers from his bloody mouth.

Sackie couldn’t watch anymore, but he didn’t really have to. Listening to the hitching sounds Fat Daddy made as he tried to suck air around the clippers was just as bad as watching him choke to death with the razor cord hanging out of his mouth.

And if he thought that shit was bad, it was nothing compared to the painful, deep-throated squeals Fat Daddy let out when two of Fif’s sons bent his fingers back and used one of his own barber tools to peel off his fingernails, one by one.

Sackie was sickened as blood ran from Fat Daddy’s torn nail beds and dripped onto the floor. Tears rolled down his fat face and he was still gasping for small breaths, but he was no longer struggling. Only suffering.

“Hey son,” Xanbar called out, pointing his chin at Sackie. “Its time to get’cha gangsta tested. Grab your burner and blast this fat piece of shit into next week.”

There was no hesitation in Sackie whatsoever. He was white, not fuckin stupid. If he bucked Xan’s order he’d find himself tied up in a chair right next to Fat Daddy with who-the-fuck-knew-what stuffed in his mouth. He pulled his tool out of his jacket and proceeded to aim at Fat Daddy’s top.

“Wait!” Xan hollered, halting him. “Crazy muhfucka what you doing? You can’t cap this nigga in the head! How the fuck he gone look laying up in his casket with half a face? You want Egypt to flip the fuck out?”

Sackie lowered the piece until his barrel was at the level of Fat Daddy’s chest.
This is a mercy killing,
he told himself then squeezed the trigger twice. Fast. Fat Daddy’s body jerked, and then he was still. That horrible sound coming from his throat was gone, and Sackie was relieved.
You put him outta his misery,
he told himself, trying to ease his feelings of guilt. It was no different than putting down a horse or a wounded dog. Egypt oughta thank him for doing what he did to her father, but deep inside Sackie knew she wouldn’t.

While Dreko’s life had suddenly changed for the better, Egypt’s life had fallen completely apart. Nothing about her world was right anymore, and she couldn’t believe how fast she’d fallen into the gutter. She had visited Lamont on Rikers two days after he got knocked, and she’d cried so hard that she had probably embarrassed him.

“It’s cool, baby,” Lamont had whispered as he tried to comfort her. “I’m straight, E. Don’t worry about me, baby. Please stop. Don’t do this to yourself. The only thing in here that I can’t handle is your tears, baby. So please.
Please
don’t cry.”

But Egypt just couldn’t stop. The tears ran from her eyes like water. She was weak and worried and her emotions were totally out of control. She wept at the thought of her man sleeping in a cold cell at night, and at the sight of him wearing those prison clothes, and even at the jailhouse sounds that assaulted her ears. She wept at the situation she’d been facing at home too, as her father tried hard to pretend everything was all right and that with Xan holding him prisoner in their apartment and Lamont being in jail, all her dreams hadn’t suddenly dissolved into nightmares as her life was ripped from its foundation and turned upside down.

Almost overnight Egypt’s world had begun to lose its balance. She’d been dragging herself to school each day but found it almost impossible to concentrate as her final exams neared. Her advanced classes at night seemed pretty pointless too. It had become real clear to her that there wasn’t no damn college fund waiting for her after graduation. Medical school was out the window too. A few days earlier she and her father had cried together as he held her in his arms and confessed that the reason they were broke and Lamont was in jail was because Fat Daddy had gambled on their future and lost it all big time.

Of course Egypt had been angry, but sadness and despair had quickly replaced her anger. She loved her father with all her heart. No matter what he’d done. He had raised her to be the best and to have the best, and he’d done it alone and the only way he knew how. Fat Daddy’s pain was Egypt’s pain too, and she could see how embarrassed and ashamed he was of fucking things up for both of them.

“Just stay in school,” Fat Daddy had told her. “I’ll figure something out, baby. I swear. On your mother’s
grave.
I’ll figure something out.”

So Egypt had trudged onward each day although her focus was completely gone. She had trouble sleeping at night and staying awake during the day. Tonight she’d fallen asleep in her class and on the way home she’d almost slept past her stop on the train too.

And now, standing in front of the shop, Egypt was preparing to unlock the door that led up to their apartment when she realized something was wrong. For the first time since she could remember the shop was dark and quiet way before midnight. No Xan, no henchmen, no hustlers, nothing. Just quiet.

Craning her neck, Egypt looked up at her second floor window. The multicolored lights coming from the background of the living room window told her the television was on upstairs and her father was there.

She stepped toward the shop entrance and stuck her key in the lock. The moment the door swung open and she clicked on the light, Egypt began screaming, and over a week later it didn’t seem like she had ever really stopped.

The sight that greeted her would haunt her to her grave.

A slumped figure faced her in the barber’s chair. It was Fat Daddy. Her
father.

His dead eyes were wide with pain and horror. An electric clipper was crammed halfway down his throat. Most of his fingernails were torn off, and the black and white tiled floor was splattered red with his blood.

Egypt’s screams were more like death wails. She squeezed her eyes closed and sank to her knees, nearly blacking out from grief. Big Monk ran over from the hero shop next door, and several customers followed him. He lifted Egypt to her feet and she passed out in his arms.

The police were called for Fat Daddy and the ambulance came for Egypt. They medicated her at the hospital, and at some point Sackie had shown up and taken her home with him.

For days Egypt cried a constant stream of anguished tears. Her heart was swollen with grief and she was far from being the tough, strong sistah she’d always thought she was. She didn’t eat, she didn’t wash her ass, and she definitely did not close her eyes. Because when she did, all she could see was the horrible nightmare image of her father’s bloody, tortured corpse. No matter how hard she tried, she could not erase the grisly death scene from her mind. She couldn’t erase it from her heart either.