The Day the Streets Stood Still (18 page)

Sean leaned over the side of the bed in BG's guest room and threw up into the bucket on the floor for the sixth time in a row. “Agh!” Sean screamed out as another wave of pain shot through his lower back and abdomen. He was drenched in sweat and his legs stiffened to the point he was wracked with Charlie horses and severe cramps.

“Cold turkey is no joke, but it's the only way to do this shit,” BG said as she sat a big cup of ice chips down on the nightstand next to the bed and picked up the vomit bucket so she could empty it.

“B . . . just give me one pack. Just one more,” Sean begged, barely able to speak. “I swear . . . it will be the last one. I can't do this, B. I ain't built for this shit.”

“No. It's been three days and you've made it this far. In a few more days you'll be well enough to go to a place I set up for you,” BG told him. “If I give you a pack you'll be starting from the door and that ain't about to happen, King.”

“Fuck!!” Sean screamed at her. “You don't fuckin' understand!” he cried out, kicking his aching legs like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“You can do all of that but I'm not getting you no H. The man I know you to be can kick this shit straight cold turkey,” BG said. “You're doing just fine. Just trust me.”

Sean wanted to jump up and punch her in the face, but he was too weak.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Sean growled at her as he leaned over and dry heaved this time.

“I know. I know. But you'll thank me later when you get well enough to take the streets back,” BG said with confidence.

 

 

After another three days of cold turkey withdrawals, Sean finally felt strong enough to sit up in the bed and put his feet on the floor. The sunlight was streaming though the blinds of BG's guest room and for the first time in years Sean appreciated the sun, the trees and the blue sky outside. He didn't feel 100 percent, but well enough to get up.

Sean stood up for the first time and almost fell because his legs were so weak from not using them for so many days. He knocked a glass off of the nightstand and sent it crashing to the floor.

“Damn,” Sean hissed, bending over to pick up the shards of glass.

“Sean?” BG huffed rushing into the room. “You all right?”

“Yeah . . . yeah, I'm good. I just hit the glass by accident,” Sean explained, finally looking up at her. Sean stared at her for a few minutes and he immediately felt ashamed of himself. BG was still gorgeous and flawless, standing there in her designer threads with her diamonds sparkling from her wrist, ears and hands. Time had been kind to her and she didn't look like she had aged a day. Sean lowered his eyes, unable to hold eye contact with her, realizing he could barely stand, dressed in pajamas she bought for him with not one piece of jewelry of his own.

“Leave that . . . the cleaning lady will get it up,” BG told Sean. “I'm so glad to see you up and about,” BG told him.

“Yeah, I need a shower like nobody's business,” he said with a halfhearted chuckle trying to take the focus off of his raggedy appearance.

“That's what I like to hear,” BG said smiling brightly. She was starting to see hints of her old partner shining through.

BG provided Sean with toiletries, razor and a brand new plush Ralph Lauren bathrobe. When he first stepped into the shower, the water stung his skin like thousands of needles were stabbing him. Sean allowed the hot water to run over his battered and abused body, which seemed to revive him. As he stood under the shower stream, Sean couldn't help but think about the last time he'd taken a shower with Sunny.

“Aye! Sean! You a'ight in there!” BG banged on the bathroom door and called out from the other side. Sean jumped fiercely and looked around the steamy bathroom dazed as he snapped out of his reverie. He swallowed hard, realizing that he was alone in the shower without Sunny.

“Yeah! I'm good,” Sean responded as BG knocked again. He put his hands up against the shower wall and let the water beat down on his head for a few minutes as he tried hard to get Sunny out of his mind. Sean was glad that the water streaming from the showerhead had washed his tears away.

 

 

“Damn, nigga. I was scared for a minute. I thought you fell in,” BG was saying with her back turned as Sean stepped out of the bathroom.

“I almost fell in,” he replied sarcastically, wrapping the plush bathrobe around his body. When BG finally turned around and laid eyes on him, her mouth involuntarily dropped open like she'd seen a ghost.

“Damn all that? What? I still look that bad?” Sean asked, noticing her wide-eyed stare and agape mouth.

“Um . . . no . . . um,” BG stammered at a loss for words as she stared at his newly shaven face and clear skin. They shared a long gaze until BG finally lowered her eyes. She felt something suddenly start throbbing in her pants. Sean looked like his old self and she was love struck by his gorgeous face all over again.

“Damn . . . that bad,” he joked. “Shit I thought a nigga was looking better 'n' shit.”

“No. That good,” she whispered, too scared to let him know how she was really feeling.

 

 

BG didn't trust the at home cold turkey detox that Sean had gone through at her house. She didn't think he would be able to fully kick his heroin addiction staying in the city, so she arranged for him to get a full detox at an exclusive holistic drug cleansing center in Los Angeles that most celebrities frequented when they were trying to kick the habit. There was a hefty price tag attached to the place, but BG didn't care if it meant the old King Sean would be back at her side.

“You know I ain't with this shit, right?” Sean griped as he slowly walked up the steps of the private jet BG had chartered to fly them to L.A. “I don't let nobody tell me where I gotta go, when I gotta go. I don't give a fuck you chartered a jet or not,” Sean went on complaining like a grumpy old man.

“I can tell the old you is almost back. Always tryin'a run shit. Well this time, I got this and you going where I say you go . . . chartered jet and all,” BG went back at him with a sassy tone.

“Yeah, a'ight. If them niggas at this place start chanting or some other ill white people shit voodoo ‘drink a pig's blood' type shit, I'm straight out that bitch on the next thing smoking,” Sean told her flat out. BG shook her head at him, but she was smiling at the same time. This complaining, demanding, overbearing annoyance was the King Sean she remembered from back in the days.

“Nigga, get on the jet and shut the fuck up,” BG said chuckling. “Damn you complaining more than a bitch right now.”

Sean couldn't front, when he walked inside of the spacious interior of the private G4 he felt like a king again. The inside was luxury at its best, but he also felt slightly ashamed that his first trip in a private plane was because BG set it up and not because he had moved up to that level on his own accord. This was what his life was supposed to be like before it got sidetracked with a heroin addiction.

“Damn, cashmere blankets, personal Bose headphones and reclining seats . . . this shit boss,” Sean said admiring his surroundings. BG shook her head proudly. She still thrived off of Sean's acceptance and approval, she just didn't let him know it.

“Help yourself to the food, too,” she said invitingly. “Shit I'm paying for it, might was well eat as much as possible.” There were trays and trays of gourmet cheeses, freshly baked breads and crackers and colorful assortments of fruit. There was also an assortment of high-priced liquors that Sean was eyeing.

“Don't even look at these shits,” BG scolded him, moving the liquor tray out of his reach. She wasn't taking any chances with any substances and his recovery. Not until she was sure he could handle being clean and sober. Sean just shook his head, amused at how protective she was being over him.

“This is how you are supposed to live, King,” BG said winking at him. Sean nodded his head up and down. He didn't need her to remind him.

“I'll be back soon. Real soon, B,” he told her with confidence.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before BG broke it. She looked over at Sean seriously, the scene so familiar that it gave her chills.

“I just want to let you know that I took care of everything for her,” BG blurted out, finding no other way to ease into the conversation.

“Who? What?” Sean asked, crinkling his eyebrows and nose as he stuffed a cube of watermelon in his mouth

“Your lady. Sunny,” BG said softly. “I made sure she was put away with dignity for you. I knew it was what you would've done if you were good. No matter what I felt about her, I wasn't going to let you live with leaving her in that fuckin' trap house to get stepped over like yesterday's trash,” BG continued. Sean lowered his head in shame and he suddenly felt a wave of nausea roll through his gut.

“When you came to my office that day, after you hit that last bag and that H got into your system you were crying like a baby. That's when you told me that she was dead off some bad dope and you had to leave her behind. I could feel the pain behind your words. I knew you were too sick to do anything, so I had my dudes pick her body up and I gave her a proper sendoff. Believe me, now, Sunny is finally resting in peace, King,” BG told Sean. She passed a sheet of legal sized paper to him. Fighting back tears, Sean looked at the paper. It was the itemized bill for Sunny's service and burial. He looked up at BG with love in his eyes. He was grateful.

“Thank you,” he said, his bottom lip trembling. It was all he could get to come out without shedding his hard exterior and letting the tears run. BG had love for him and that was real.

 

 

Sean wasn't feeling the holistic cleansing center in L.A., but he knew it was his only way back to his place as king of the streets. The real cold turkey process at the cleansing center was no joke, but Sean fought through it like a champ.

BG came by and checked on him daily for the entire month he was there. Some days Sean gave BG his ass to kiss rudely, but other days, he was happy to see that he still had her in his corner. By the end of the program, Sean felt like his old self again and he was anxious to make some connections to build his empire back up.

On the day of his release, BG pulled up in a brand new smoke gray Mercedes-Benz S550 and Sean's heart jerked in his chest. It was the newer version to the Benz Fox had drove Sean around in so many times when he was younger.

“Why you look like you seen a ghost?” BG asked Sean as he got into the car.

“If you only knew,” he replied, almost whispering.

“Damn you clean up nicely,” BG said, reaching over and rubbing her hand over Sean's fresh low haircut. Sean flexed his head away from her.

“C'mon, man . . . don't be fuckin' up my waves rubbing my head like I'm ya son 'n' shit,” Sean said jokingly. They both shared a laugh. It had been ages since they'd done that. BG was feeling nostalgic, but she wasn't ready to let her guard down with Sean again, just yet.

“So what we gon' do to celebrate your accomplishment, man?” BG asked.

“Get our ass back on the G4 and get home. I got connections to make. I'm sure a lot of niggas gon' be surprised to see that I've arisen from the dead,” he said, rearing back in the car seat. “I got a bunch of niggas I wanna see . . . personally.”

“Nah. You don't need to worry with all that revenge bullshit right now. We gotta celebrate while we out here in Hollywood, man. It's all-star weekend and I got these,” BG said, reaching down into the middle console and pulling out two floor seat tickets to the NBA All-Star game.