The Face That Launched A Thousand Bullets (The Cartel Publications Presents) (14 page)

He hadn’t even gotten out everything before Jason’s ass busted out laughing and fell on the ground.

“Yo…what is so funny, dude?” Markise asked as he ate his beef and broccoli with rice. “The man not even finished yet and you laughin’.”

Cray shook his head. He knew Jason’s beastly ass was more happy to be eating than anything else.

“Leave the lil nigga alone.” Devon laughed. “He feelin’ me on this shit. So I tells the bitch get in the car. Do you know this broad had a nerve to slap me?”

“For real?” Cray said finally interested. He wasn’t into all the stories about the girls and the many ways he fucked them. For real, for real, he thought he was too old to be talking to them about stuff like that anyway. “What you do?”

“I dropped her! Hit her slam in her jaw.” he said as if he should’ve known. “What you think I did?”

“Man, you ain’t supposed to be hittin’ no females.” Markise said shaking his head in disgust before digging in his food. “That’s juvenile man.”

“Listen to this lil nigga talkin’ about somethin’ juvenile.” He laughed as if he didn’t know the first thing about handling women. “Let me school you, lil brother. You gots to keep a woman in check. Got to! Plus, they be likin’ that shit.”

“I disagree. My father said ain’t no man ‘spose to be hittin’ no woman. We stronger than them anyway. So why put our hands on em?” Markise continued, never backing down from his beliefs. “I mean, let’s be real about it. How bad can a girl hurt you?”

“I hit this girl once for poking her finger in my sandwich at lunch one time.” Jason responded, desperately trying to have a valuable contribution to the conversation.

“Man, shut yo ass up.” Markise laughed. “Hittin’ bitches is dumb, but hittin’ girls over sandwiches is lame.” Markise came down hard on Jason sometimes. He just wanted him to have his own mind, but he never did.

“I don’t think so. Sometimes you got to keep yo house in line and hittin’ a female is the first step.” Cray said. “It’s the same thing as if you were disciplinin’ a dug. If a dug keep shittin’ in the house, you got to keep hittin’ his ass. Eventually, he’ll get it right.”

When Cray finished they were all silent. Prior to now they forgot that his father beat his moms on a regular. Had they remembered, the conversation would’ve never occured.

“Uh…yeah…you right, lil man.” Devon glanced down at his watch. “But let me bounce. I’ll get up wit you lil niggas lada. Happy Birthday, Cray, and don’t spend all the money I gave you in one place, eitha.”

He gave them all pounds, jumped in his ride, blasted “Keep Risin’ To The Top” by Doug E. Fresh and sped off. Nobody knew until later, that halfway down the block, Devon would be arrested on drug charges.

The boys were left alone to think about how the convo ended and both of them felt bad for talking about abuse in the first place.

“I’m sorry, man,” Markise said. “I forgot.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Cray said. “Ya’ll wanna see somethin’?”

“Yeah…what?” Jason said, excitedly.

“Come wit’ me,” Cray clutched his book bag.

They marched further down Liberty Avenue until they saw a little alleyway. Once there, Cray looked all around. When he was sure no one was in sight, he carefully pulled out the gun.

“Oh, shit!” Jason said, totally amused. “Let me hold it.”

“Man, put that shit up,” Markise said, not feeling the whole gun thing. He backed away a little as Cray held it in his hands.

“Why you scared?” Cray laughed, loving the fear in his eyes.

Markise was tough and it was hard to frighten him, so Cray was getting a kick out of it now.

“Naw, but I know guns are not toys.” Unconsciously, his hands flew in the air as if he were protecting his face.

“You sound like one of them dumb ass teachers at school,” Jason added. “Let me hold it Cray.”

“I don’t trust your ass.” Cray laughed. “I want Markise to hold it.”

“And I said I don’t want to!” He fired back. “So put it up, man!”

“Come on,” Cray demanded as he walked toward him gun aiming in his direction. “Stop bein’ a baby.”

Markise backed up onto the brick wall.

“Cray, you actin’ real crazy now,” he said calmly, noticing his finger was on the trigger. “I don’t like guns. So can you please put it up?”

Cray looked at him dead in his eyes. For the first time ever, he had Markise shook. He wasn’t a tough kid anymore. He was just a kid.

Cray backed away, preparing to put the gun up when someone said, “What ya’ll doin’?”

Cray got so scared that he turned around toward the person’s voice and the gun went off with a loud blast. Kris’s eyes were wide opened as he held his chest and dropped to the ground.

Cray’s heart raced when he saw him fall. For a minute he was filled with remorse and pity. All he wanted to do was show Markise and Jason the gun to make him appear tough. Especially after his birthday celebration was a bust.

Sweat formed on the surface of his head as his mind raced. He wondered what to do next. He couldn’t tell people he shot Kris and expect to get away with it. All of a sudden, his fighter instinct kicked in.

“Oh, shit! You shot him!” Markise said as they all ran over to him and got on the ground next to him. “Kris…Kris…you okay, man? Get up. Come on, Kris, get up.”

He pulled him by the dirty brown coat he wore.

Jason stood up.

The boys panicked.

This had already gone too far.

“Let’s go, man,” Cray said calmly, as if nothing had happened.

Cray’s knees were on the ground and noticed that they suddenly felt damp. When he looked to his left he saw Jason staring at Kris pissing his pants.

Cray stood up.

“What you mean let’s go?” Markise asked, looking up at him. There were tears in his eyes. “We can’t leave him here!”

Cray looked at Markise.

“We got to go. If we stay we’re gonna all be in trouble.”

“We can’t leave him, Cray. We can probably still help him? Tell him, Jason. Tell him we can’t leave, Kris.”

Jason didn’t say a word as liquid continued to escape his own body.

“Listen, Markise…he’s dead. Look at him. We have to go. Now come on.”

Cray said pulling his arm. Markise pulled away from him at first, but when he looked back down at Kris and saw his eyes shut, he reluctantly got up. Finally getting Jason to move too, the three of them took off running back towards Cray’s house, the gun still in his book bag.

Once inside Cray’s house, he made Markise wash his hands and Jason take off his jeans to wear some of his father’s before they even thought about going into his bedroom.

“We can’t never say nothin’,” Cray advised walking around them, as the boys sat on the floor and looked up at him. He loved the power. He was in charge.

Silence.

“I know ya’ll mad at me, but it was a accident.”

Silence.

“We have to tell somebody.” Markise said slowly. “This is wrong, man. He may still be alive.”

“Fuck that…we carryin’ this shit to our grave so if anybody got a problem with it say it now and we can handle the shit right here.”

Silence.

Jason and Markise looked at one another.

“I guess its official. We can never say a word.”

The Next Day

Cray stood outside alone kicking a can on the street. He’d been locked out of the house and was waiting for his mother and father to get home. He was freezing cold. He was just about to walk to the store to shoplift and wait in the heat when Melody’s Audi pulled up.

“Get in.” He told Cray.

Cray nervously got inside.

“Hungry?” he asked pulling off down the road.

He was comfortable in the heat inside his car as Melody sped down the slushy streets. He took notice at the digital stereo system and brown leather seats. He’d never been in a car like that in his entire life.

“Kinda.”

“Open my glove compartment and hand me that cash.”

Cray didn’t move. Just stared at him. He wondered what he wanted. Just the other day he couldn’t stand his guts and now he was being nice.

“You heard me? I said get the money.”

Digging into the glove compartment he handed him a wad of money so big, his fingers made a large C just to hold it.

“Take out five hundred and put the rest back.”

He handed it to him.

“Naw. Put it in your pocket.”

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“Nothin’. I like your style that’s all.”

Cray didn’t say much. Besides, he figured he’d impressed him with the way he handled his punches. Or maybe he wanted him to sell drugs for him like Grimy Mike and Charms did. As long as he could be put on, Cray didn’t care. He wanted his own money and was willing to do whatever it took to get it.

All of his questions were answered when Melody pulled up to the McDonalds and said, “Get what you want
Shooter
. It’s on me.”

Nyzon

Middle School, Washington, D.C

Money, Money, Money, Money

T
he school party was jammed packed. Even though chaperones were present, most of them were teachers and a few parents who didn’t really care what the kids did, just as long as there was no fighting.

The DJ played all the favorites from artists like Erik B & Rakim, EPMD, and The Beastie Boys. Everyone was doing dances like The Runnin’ Man, The Prep, and The Cabbage Patch. The party was off the hook. Nyzon had just stepped through the doors when Mrs. Tawney approached him.

“Nyzon, did you ever give your mother the documents to be completed?” she asked with a clear cup full of punch in her hands.

Nyzon looked around to see who was watching. Royala and Lazarick were. Ever since she gave him those papers, he’d been dodging her.

“She ain’t want nothin’. She talkin’ bout some papers for my mom that’s all. But look, I’m bout to roll. I was just tryin to buy time after moms just dropped me off.”

“For what?” Lazarick asked. “The party just gettin’ started.” Royal, posed on the floor next to them in her jeans, baseball cap and sweater.

“I’ma ask Angel if I can have a chance.” He said scanning the party.

“Who?” Royal asked.

“Angel.” He repeated knowing already they were about to give him grief.

They both broke out in laughter.

“I don’t know what’s funny cuz I already hit.” Nyzon replied brushing off his shoulder. “So stop sweatin’ me.”

“If you gonna ask her right now we goin’ wit you.” Lazarick said spotting Monesha looking in their direction. “And what about her?”

Nyzon saw Monesha.

“Why have a girl when I can have a woman?” he asked.

Monesha had been putting herself in Nyzon’s way ever since they met. And she rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t understand how you could meet somebody, and sweat them every five minutes. She waited for Nyzon after each class, met him at his locker, and called his phone every five minutes. For real, she was blowing him.

They were preparing to leave the party when they saw Starlette, the girl he fingerf ucked on a regular, and her crew walking toward them.

“Are you tellin’ people you hit at school?” She asked rolling her neck and popping her gums.

“I ain’t tellin’ people shit, and if I did what’s the problem? I did hit that.” He advised wondering if Lazarick said something to somebody like he always did.

That’s why he never told him his most intimate secrets because he talked too much. And when he looked back at Lazarick, he was looking the other way.

“The problem is you lyin’ Nyzon! Me and you ain’t neva got together.” She continued.

“Bitch you lost your mind!” Royala added. “I was on lookout when Nyzon hit that in the Freak-Mobile. You betta get out of her wit that bullshit.”

Now Starlette was angry. Lines formed in her forehead and Nyzon could’ve sworn she was preparing to punch Royala. He just hoped for her sake she had enough sense not to.

“Ain’t nobody fuckin’ wit no broke ass Nyzon!” Starlette spat. “He don’t even have a decent pair of shoes to wear.” She and her friends pointed and laughed. “Fuck I look like messin’ wit him when I got a boyfriend wit money?”

“Want me to slap him?” Rhonda, one of her friends asked.

She loved fighting and that’s why her face was so fucked up. She had scars all over it.

Nyzon wasn’t scared of Starlette or her loud friends. He just wasn’t up for the bullshit. He couldn’t understand why this bitch was in his face when she knew he fingered her at least once a week. He figured her boyfriend found out and dumped her, either way, he didn’t care.