Street Chronicles Girls in the Game (17 page)

The air was humid, and all the players were strollin’ the strip, trying to be seen. Making his rounds from the south side to the north side up the east side and back south, Twan saw which runners were working and which were missing in action. He made mental notes on who to call into the office on re-up Thursday. Lazy didn't amount to money, and hustlin’ wasn't a game for those not willing to put in the sweat, tears, and the risk required to make it. The incompetent would have to find another player to work for, especially since Ant had decided to step the game up.

Two hours later, Twan sat inside his pearl Escalade debating whether to go inside and face the music. He knew word had made its way back to 539 Falls Avenue about what went down between him, Aisha, and Terry three days ago. Before stepping into KAT69 he had known the women were going to have a baby over his request. The confrontation with Terry had actually gone smoother
than expected. Knowing things with Bossy wouldn't be as easy, Twan gulped down a few shots of vodka. Bossy was one woman not to be fucked with, and Twan had done just that.

He held his breath when the door slowly opened, permitting him to go inside.

Bossy had seen him sitting outside, but decided to wait for him to make his move. Lately Twan had made so many bad choices that Bossy had begun questioning his loyalty to her and her girls.
I practically raised him and tried to teach him the rules of the game just like Teddy Bear had taught me, and this is how he wants to show his gratitude?
she thought. Bossy looked Twan in his eyes and wondered if she even knew who he was anymore.

“What's up with you, girl? You all right?” questioned Twan.

The minute Twan heard the music Bossy was listening to, he knew the visit wasn't going to be easy. Everyone in the Yo’ listened to music as a way to survive, the one thing everyone had in common.

“Yeah, ya shit is over there. Leave my money on the table,” Bossy said harshly.

“Look, Bossy, I know your girls told you about me coming into the shop and asking for their help. I know it was wrong, and it won't happen again.” Twan apologized without making eye contact, making Bossy question his thinking even more.

“Sit down.”

“I know we need to talk, but I got to—”

“Sit down,” demanded Bossy. “Don't make me say it again.” Twan did as he was told and sat directly across from Bossy. They sat without saying a word while the disk changer switched to Bootsy Collins and his song “Hollywood” began playing.

“Some of the things you do remind me of myself when I was a couple of years younger than you are now. Other things you do are so reckless it pisses me off.”

“I know, and—”

“Twan, just listen to what I have to say. Pay close attention, and hopefully when I'm done you'll understand why I'm asking myself if you can be trusted anymore.

“I know you've heard stories about me, how I was back in the day. Some stories good and some bad, but they're probably all true. I've had my fun clubbin’ it, robbin’ cats out on the streets just for the fun of it, fuckin’ with three and four different playas at one time. People used to call me a pimp. I hate that word because it's too generalized these days. What ya generation don't understand is that sometimes pimps gotta ho, too.” Bossy paused to let her last statement sink in. “Aisha and Terry hung with me at the clubs, but they never committed any crimes. I love and respect them too much to put them in danger that way. Even today, I only let them get in so deep with what I do, and truth be told, I don't want them involved at all. See, when you love someone, Twan, you protect and look after them.” The ice in Bossy's drink had melted, and all she tasted was water as she took her last sip. She stood to pour herself a fresh drink and brought Twan back a beer.

“About ten years ago I was hanging out with my boys Big Black and Poppy. We were real tight. Most people thought they were fuckin’ me, but it wasn't even like that. We looked out for one another, and to them I was just one of the boys. Anyway, one day we started drinking around noon and didn't stop until three in the morning. Man, we kicked it that day. I think I won over five thousand dollars from them playing craps, spades, and dominoes. Poppy won half of it back when we hit Corky's and played a few hours of pool.

“That night we rode out to the Sharon line and paid the after-hours spot the Davises’ a visit. It was on that night, and we took advantage of every single minute. Just when the spot started jumpin', shots rang out. Me and Big Black were on the dance
floor, and Poppy was off in the back smoking with some chick. Shots being fired in that joint was common, so everyone hit the ground and waited for the bouncers to grab hold of the situation. When all was cool, the deejay would start spinning the tunes again and the crowd would return to partying like nothing happened.”

Bossy took a sip of her fresh drink before continuing with her story. “Not that night though. When the smoke cleared, three people lay dead, one being Poppy. Big Black and Teddy Bear lost they minds over that shit. By the time we laid our boy to rest, word had hit the streets that some bitch from the Brooks had set him up. That's who was all up in his ear that night. He'd beat her ass a month before, and she wanted payback. I understood the retaliation, but not to the extent of taking my boy's life. Teddy Bear found out who pulled the trigger and plans were in the works to lay them down.

“Big Black took that shit to heart, and it was all he could talk about. We were out one day reminiscing on old times when we spotted them fools that killed Poppy. What happened next was reflex, it seemed so natural. All I could see was my boy lying in a pool of blood with half his face blown the fuck off.” Tears began flowing down Bossy's face as she remembered the love she had for Poppy and the sin she'd committed that night. “I grabbed my thirty-eight, Big Black whipped out his nine, and we both started blastin'. When the bullets stopped flyin', a couple of east-side nig-gas named Eddie ‘E-Low’ Brown and David ‘Slim’ Collins were on their way to hell.”

Twan was shocked. Never would he have guessed that Bossy had taken someone's life.

“We hauled ass out of there and drove straight to Teddy Bear's. A lot happened that night, including the guns and car we were driving never being seen again. You have no idea how difficult it is
to live with the fact that someone is no longer on this earth because of me. I didn't even know their names until I read that shit in the papers. No matter what they did, just like Poppy, they were sons, brothers, maybe even fathers. We all chose this life, and we live it the way these streets demand, but we all deserve respect because we breathe. I tell you this story and say all of this to you just to say this: Do not disrespect the game, the hustle, or my girls’ livelihood ever again. And Twan, most important, do not disrespect me. Just because we don't call nine-one-one ‘round here don't mean they won't come for you when you slip.”

When Aisha pulled in front of their apartment building, she was happy to see that no one was home. It had been a difficult workday, and she longed for a hot tub. “Good, I can rest before going to have dinner with Mama. Lord knows I need a minute to myself.” That idea was short-lived when Aisha spotted Ant's deuce-and-a-quarter parked behind hers. “Now, what does this fool want? I am not in the mood.

“Bossy's not here, Ant, but I'll let her know you're looking for her.” Aisha tried to keep him from getting too far out of his car.

“I ain't looking for Bossy. I want to talk to you and Terry,” Ant said smugly.

“Why? You don't have anything to speak with us about.”

“Yes, I do. Our house on Warren was busted today, and over five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of shit is gone. If y'all stuck-up asses had let my boy stash that shipment at ya spot, none of this would have happened. Now somebody gon’ pay”

“Ant, I don't have time for your immature bullshit. If you and
Twan can't handle the weight you're digging into, ease up off it. Before that shipment was even picked up, storage for it should have been planned and confirmed. The two of you have been doing shit ass-backward, so you getting busted was bound to hap-pen.

“Look, bitch—”

“No, the hell you didn't come at me sideways! You don't want to get yourself into a name-calling match with me. I understand you being upset, but I am not the one,” warned Aisha.

“Fuck that! We ain't got the money to re-up now and have no way to recoup that type of paper. You two bitches better find a way to get us out of this shit or we all gon’ be in trouble. If I go down, we all sinkin'.”

Ant must have forgotten that she was from the jets herself.

“Are you crazy or stupid?” Aisha screamed back. “When it comes down to it, ain't no partnerships in the streets, and ya ugly ass know that. See, I ain't nobody's bitch, especially not some ugly-ass runner from Smurf Village!” Aisha had had enough. She reached inside her purse, grabbed her .32, and pointed it at Ant. “If you think I won't cap one in ya knees, try me. I dare you— make a move, monkey.”

Ant stood still, mouth opened.

“That's what I thought. Now, retreat ya ugly black ass back into ya car and ride the fuck on.” Ant did as he was told, and Aisha stood watching as his car disappeared up and over the hill.

“All I wanted was a minute for me; now this fool done drawn me into a place I have no right being.”

Ant was pissed as he drove around the city contemplating his next move. His initial plan of intimidating Aisha was a bust. He'd fully expected her to fold like a blanket, but instead she ended up turning into someone totally opposite the Aisha he knew. The woman pointing the gun at him was strong, confident, and straight-up ghetto. In all of the years he'd been around Aisha, she always came off as timid, soft, and ladylike. As the saying went, Never judge a book by its cover.

According to Shadaisy, officers Powell and Meeks stormed the house and left with the stash of drugs but didn't arrest her. Ant couldn't believe how two crooked cops could remain on the force as long as they had. Every hustler in the city had had a run-in with those two so-called officers at one time or another. As Ant pulled up in front of the drug house, he racked his brain to come up with a way to stop their criminal behavior and recover his loss.

Minutes after Ant stepped into the Warren Avenue house, Twan pulled up in Lajetia's silver-gray Lexus. Ant's heart stopped for fear that word had gotten back to Twan about his encounter with Aisha earlier that day. He stepped out onto the porch to greet his boy.

“What up with you, boy; you all right?” Ant asked nervously.

“I'm pissed, man. Someone slashed the tires on my ride!” Twan paused to catch his breath. “What a bitch move.”

Inside, Shadaisy overheard the conversation taking place outside and thought how right Twan was. Bitch moves were usually made by bitches, and Lajetia was most likely the culprit.

As soon as Twan stepped through the door, Shadaisy went to
work. “Hey, Twan, did I hear you right? Someone came out to the ‘burbs and fucked with ya ride?”

“Yeah, ain't that some shit? Whoever did it better hope I never catch up with ‘em.” Twan's anger grew as he thought about someone violating the number one rule to a man: Never fuck with his ride.

“Are you sure you don't know who did it? I mean, after the phone call ya girl made to me a little while ago, I'd be looking at home first before trying to look in the streets for who disrespected you like that.”

Shadaisy tried to drag out the information as long as possible. She was jealous of the way Twan took care of home, especially since Ant didn't think enough of her to put her in a house of her own. Instead he had her living in a drug house, where at any time her life and freedom could come to an end.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Twan was getting frustrated with Shadaisy.

“Ya girl called me to let me know you have a woman and family and that you ain't going nowhere. She told me to stop fuckin’ with you. Apparently she thinks you messing around on her.”

“Are you serious? Lajetia did that? How did she get the number?”

“I don't know, but I'm guessing from your cell.”

Twan thought back to everything that had taken place at home and realized Lajetia had access to his phone while he was in the shower. She had tried hard to get him to stay home today. He felt bad about breaking his promise to her, but he had to take care of business. Recouping lost money from the drugs that were stolen from them was the priority. Unbeknownst to Ant, it would be no problem for Twan to ante up the five hundred grand they owed C-Lok, but he didn't want anyone knowing he was sitting comfortable like that.

“Man, who the fuck is that?” Shadaisy yelled after hearing the sound of screeching tires outside. Ant knew the shit was about to hit the fan. He'd fucked up big-time, and had to face the music.

When he was a little boy hanging out with the street-corner hustlers, he heard story after story about the boldest bitch in the city. Only those with a death wish crossed Bossy. Ant recalled hearing the story of a drive-by done out on the Sharon line. The way he overheard it, Teddy Bear was caught slippin’ at a phone booth one night after the club closed. He was parked down the street from Jitso's Bar, and some young punk rode up on him and robbed him for five hundred dollars. Teddy Bear got a good look at the dope fiend and put the word out about a reward if he was found that night. The description was of a young boy with a boxed high-top cut, light-skinned with a bad complexion, wearing a blue Members Only jacket, jeans, and Adidas kicks.

Finding him was easy, because he bragged about the holdup while chillin’ in the Davises’ after-hours spot that same night. Big Black, Poppy, and Bossy were chillin’ in the parking lot when someone ratted on him. His name was Ali. Bossy went inside and acted like she wanted to spend some time with him. Thinking with the wrong head, Ali fell for it, and he followed Bossy to her car. They took a short ride to a park behind the club. Bossy led Ali away from the car, and Big Black and Poppy snuck up behind them. They had been hiding in the backseat. Ali never knew what hit him. They beat him so bad he was unrecognizable for months. He lay in a coma for eight weeks and awoke unable to remember his own name.