Richard’s fingers tapped the steering wheel harshly. His eyes carefully watched the front door of the bar in Overtown. Haughtily, he readjusted himself in the seat and turned up the radio to ease his frustration. Man! Come on!
A tall, lanky man in Polo shorts and a white t-shirt exited the bar, laughing loudly. Through the rolled down passenger side window, Richard yelled, “Yo’ Cash!”
The man standing outside the bar turned his head in the direction of his name. Seeing Richard, he walked towards the car and leaned in through the passenger window. “Rich! Wuz up, my nigga?”
Richard leaned over from the driver’s seat and reached across the passenger seat to give Cash daps. “Yo Cash, I need two thousand more of them thangs. What can you do for me?”
“Take me to the store.” Cash opened the door and climbed in. “And when you get some money on you.” He assumed that Richard already had the money, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked for more pills, but clarity was always important in these matters.
Richard shot Cash an offended look. “Why you gotta ask me some shit like that?” his tone mirrored his facial expression as they pulled up to the store on Twelfth Street. “You know I got the money.”
Disregarding Richard’s defensive tone, Cash motioned to the store. “You want something out of there?”
“Yeah, get me four Dutch and two bottled waters,” Richard answered, smiling mischievously, “You know I got to test this new shit out.”
As Cash opened the door and exited the car, Richard’s phone started to ring. “Hello?”
On the other end of the line, E paced back and forth on the sidewalk, “A bro, Lil’ Pop locked up. I just saw them crackers take him to jail.”
Richard gritted his teeth as his grip tightened around his cell phone. “Where you at, bro?”
“Over here by the Pork-N with Lil’ Rod,” E wondered why Richard cared where he was at. Pops was in jail.
Richard’s biceps flexed as he squeezed the steering wheel even harder. His jaw had already started to ache from grinding his teeth so hard. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down, to keep it together, “You know what he went to jail for?”
“I think he had a gun,” E replied. “That’s what this lil’ hoe told us.”
“Ok,” Richard sighed, “When I get done with this, I’m gone call sis and tell her he locked up. We can’t do shit, though. He’s going to juvie. Ain’t no bonding him out cause they don’t get none.”
Cash was already back in the car and had overheard the tail end of Richard’s phone conversation. “Who went to jail?”
“My lil’ nephew.” Not even looking at Cash, Richard put the car into drive. “They say he got jammed with a gun a few minutes ago.”
“Damn,” Cash replied, but before he could say anything else, he spotted his car. “Ay! Stop right there and pull up next to that black Buick,” he pointed in the direction of the car, “on that side of the street.”
A black unmarked car sat around the corner from Cash’s black Buick. From the back seat of the unmarked car, Rex told the two men sitting up front, “That’s him right there,” and pointed towards Cash.
“Getting out of the blue Daytona Dodge Charger?” asked Willie-B, one of the undercover officers sitting up front. He’d been trailing Cash for months, but that slimy drug dealer had always been one-step ahead. With Rex’s help, he might finally nab one of the most prominent drug suppliers in Dade County.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Ok people, let’s get ready for that bust,” Willie-B announced, holding down the button of his walkie-talkie as he spoke. Excitement pulsed through his veins as he amped up for the chase. “That’s a fast car, so they might try and run, but don’t move until he’s back in the car he got out of.”
“Copy that,” crackled back over the radio.
Coolly, Cash climbed back into Richard’s car.
“Ay, Cash, I hope you give me a deal on the next batch of pills. I’m gone buy four thousand next…”
“Hit the gas, nigga,” Cash interrupted, slamming the door shut. “That’s the police right there!”
Without hesitation, Richard slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. Smoke from the screeching tires filled the air. “I got this shit, Cash. Just watch the skills, nigga.”
“I hope you do cause I’m out on bond already man,” Cash replied, holding onto the door and arm rest for dear life.
“Go! Go! Go!” Willie-B yelled into the walkie. “They’re getting away!”
Through the streets of Overtown, Richard swerved between right and wrong lanes of traffic. The odometer pushed to eighty miles an hour through the busy city streets. The sounds of car horns and screeching tires filled each intersection as they flew through without so much as a tap on the brakes. Shops, houses and apartment buildings whizzed by in a blur.
Cash looked over his shoulder. Seeing the gap closing between Richard and the car behind them, he yelled, “Turn left right here!”
Richard turned sharply into the Town Park Apartments, cutting the gas as he turned, increasing speed the moment he cleared the lot.
Cash leaned into the passenger side door, holding onto the handle. “Let me out at the turn down there, man,” he said as he braced himself for his exit.
Richard glanced at Cash in disbelief before turning his eyes back to the road in front of him. “What the fuck you mean, nigga?”
“Man, you can have this shit!” Cash threw the bag of pills into Richard’s lap. “Now let me out!”
“Why ain’t you say that shit the first time?” Picking up speed just a little, Richard tried to increase the gap between him and the car behind them. He was almost to the end of the complex parking lot.
“Let me out! Let me out!” Cash screamed, opening the door. The car was still moving at a neck-breaking speed.
Richard slammed on the brakes. The door flew open and Cash rolled out onto the pavement. Without even waiting for him to get out of the way, Richard slammed the accelerator. He made another left, pulling out onto Twentieth Street.
“Call highway patrol. I think he’s going to get on I-95.” Willie-B spoke into the walkie. He and his crew had missed Cash’s jump and continued to pursue the car weaving in and out of traffic in front of them.
Holding his cell phone in one hand and driving with the other, Richard continued on his path to I-95. “Ay Bro! Where you at? I need you to pick me up ASAP!”
“What happened?” E grabbed his keys and headed for the door.
“I got the police on a chase. I got two thousand pills, my gun and six thousand dollars,” Richard yelled. “That’s what happened!”
Shit! “Where you want me to pick you up?” E was already climbing into his car.
Richard calculated how long it would take E to reach him from the apartment, “Go over there on Sixth Ave and Sixty-Seventh Street,” overshooting it, just in case. “Park by the highway. And don’t move!”
“I got you. Just get there,” E spoke to dead air.
Richard had already ended the call and was now pressing speed dial three – Skinny’s aunt, Sue.“Ma! I can’t talk right now,” Richard said, cutting off Sue’s attempt at small talk as he looked over his shoulder to gauge the gap between him and the unmarked police car. Seeing that they were closing in, he pushed the accelerator a little more. “Just leave the door open, alright?”
Now doing a hundred and eighty-five miles an hour, Richard snapped his phone shut and quickly swerved around a red Pontiac. Sixty-Seventh Street was just up ahead. Pulling into the far left lane, he waited until the last possible moment to hit the brakes. The car’s rear end tried to swerve out from behind, but he quickly turned the wheel back to the right, straightening it just enough to stop it completely. Throwing it into park, he bolted out of the door, leaving it open as he ran.
“That crazy son-of-a-bitch is getting out of the car,” Willie-B slammed on the accelerator and pulled the walkie up towards his lips. “I need all units on Sixty-Seventh Street.” If they moved fast enough, they just might catch the runner.
“Sixty-seventh and what?”
“Sixty-Seventh and Sixth Ave,” he yelled as he watched Richard jump the median into oncoming traffic. “Damn it!”
Waiting just on the other side of the highway with the passenger side door open, E spotted Richard, dodging the expressway cars. Within moments, Richard was climbing into the seat next to him. Undetected by the officers now approaching the car Richard had left behind, they sped off down the street.
Kitchen, Willie-B’s partner approached the passenger side slowly, gun poised. He expected to find Cash still sitting in the vehicle. “Come out with your hands up.” Willie was just a few feet behind him. Now standing right next to the car, he peered in through the passenger side window. “Ain’t nobody in the car,” looking over towards his partner.
Willie-B kicked the gravel, screaming obscenities at the sky and the cars driving by. Hunched over and out of breath, he raised the walkie to his lips again. “Dispatch, be on the lookout on a black male, blue jeans, white shirt and dreadlocks.”
“Ask that mother fucker if he knows who that was,” Kitchen said, motioning to their car with his thumb.
Walking back, Willie-B gritted his teeth, “Trust me, I am. And if doesn’t know, the deal’s off.”
***
Richard awoke the next morning to the scent of grits, fried eggs, smothered pork chops and crack cooking in the microwave. Entering the kitchen, he saw the person responsible for the delectable smells standing in front of the stove. “Baby girl, what you hooking up for Daddy?” he asked, walking up behind her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly and kissing her neck.
Skinny smiled as Richard’s arms wrapped around her. “Some breakfast for us,” she pointed to the microwave, “and some breakfast for the block.”
He smiled and nuzzled her neck before walking over to microwave. Grabbing a rag off the counter, he opened the door and removed the glass measuring cup.” Well, let me handle this block breakfast while you get our breakfast together,” he said, setting the glass cup on the counter to cool. “I need to start paying you for doing this shit,” he smiled as he examined the rest of the crack cookies on the counter.
Skinny shrugged, then turned towards him, suddenly remembering there was something she needed to tell him. “Alicia called for you this morning,” waving her hand in the air as she finished her statement. “But you know how she is about getting you up out your sleep.”
“What she want?”
“She said Pop went to jail for a gun and Gina wanted to talk to you,” she replied, flipping the pork chops.
“Damn! I forgot all about that shit, baby girl.” Richard used his thumb and forefinger to place pressure on the bridge of his nose.
“What you forgot about?”
He stood and sighed. “E done told me he saw Pop go to jail in the Beans yesterday,” still holding the pressure against the bridge of his nose.
“How you gone forget some shit like that baby?” Her sarcastic tone was evened out by her joking smile. “Oh yeah, you was running from the police yourself.” She turned to look at him, and placed her hand on her hip, “And you still ain’t told me what happened.”
A large grin slowly spread across his face. “The police was watching Cash when I was trying to buy the pills.”
Skinny wasn’t sure how to interpret Richard’s smile. “How the fuck you get away from a police raid baby?” A silly half-smile crossed her lips.“Wine know he made a beast out of you.” She turned back to the stove and started to remove the pork chops from the skillet, placing them on a plate.
Richard belted out a laugh. “Fuck how I got away. That bitch ass nigga wanna get out the car while we running from the police!”
Skinny dropped the fork she’d been using and turned back towards Richard with her mouth gaping open in shock. “What you mean he wanted to get out?”
“Nigga threw the pills in my lap and said I can have them if I let him out,” he replied, nonchalantly.
“So what? You made him ride with you?” she asked, certain that he wouldn’t have just let Cash out of the car. Yet she somehow knew that that was what he was trying to say.
“Hell nah!” shaking his head, “I let his ass out when I made that run going through Town Park Apartments and pulled off.”
Skinny chuckled at the idea of Richard making away with all of those pills, all because Cash had been too scared to ride it out. “Baby! You crazy as fuck! So what happened to the pills?”
“They at E’s house,” he answered, waving the issue away with his hand. “I’m ‘bout to jump in the shower and get ready to go.”
With a plate in one hand and a hip in the other, Skinny turned and faced Richard. “So you not gone eat breakfast with me?”
“Baby girl, having breakfast is a part of getting ready to go,” he replied, plainly. “Now, if you gone help me bag this shit up, I’ll stay a lil’ longer.”
Skinny’s nose wrinkled at the thought of having to help bag up the cookies. “No, just breakfast, thank you,” she answered as the phone started to ring. Setting the plate on the table first, she walked over to the phone and answered it. “Hello?...Oh, hold on Alicia,” she held the phone out towards Richard. “Richy, it’s yo’ sister.”
Richard took the phone from Skinny’s hand and placed the receiver up to his ear. “Wuz good, Sis?”
“Boy!” Alicia’s shrill voice came over the line. “I been trying to call you all day yesterday. Why you ain’t answer the phone?”
“Sis, I was trying to do something and the police tried to run down on me and I dropped my phone,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm, hoping it would help settle Alicia’s anger.
Silence settled over the phone line as Richard’s answer sunk in. “Well,” she finally continued, clearing her throat. “Did Skinny tell you that Lil’ Pop went to jail yesterday?”
“Yeah, she told me,” Richard answered. “I got to get a new phone so I can call that lawyer that owe me one.”
“Why can’t you just call him from your house phone?” Alicia asked, confused.
“Cause I went back last night and found my phone, but it was broke,” Richard answered, rolling his eyes.“You know how them Nextel phones have chips in them that save everything? That’s where the number is.”
“Oh…Well, you gone call Gina?”
“Yeah, when I get done handling my business. I can’t do shit ‘til I holla at the lawyer.” He was ready to hang up the phone. He had things to do, people to see.
“Okay, I’m gone let you do your lil’ business,” she patronized before adding, “Bye boy. I love you.”
“Love you too sis. Talk to you later,” he replied, just before hanging up the phone.
***
Methodically, Willie-B paced around the room, gripping his chin as if deep in thought. Without warning, his hands crashed down on the table, palms down. His face just inches away from Rex’s, so close that Rex could tell what the officer had for lunch that day – a pastrami sandwich and tomato soup.
“This is the last time I’m gone ask you,” Willie-B growled. “Do you know who that was that jumped out of that Charger?”
Of course Rex knew, but he also knew that snitching on Rich Kid was like signing his own death certificate. He hardened his glare and drained all emotion from his face, “I keep telling you. I don’t know man. Only person I know was Cash and y’all say he wasn’t in the car when that dude decided to jump out.” Every time they’d asked Rex that question, his answer had remained the same.
The officer narrowed his eyes, leaned almost nose to nose with Rex.” I know you know,” he seethed.
Rex fought the urge to pull his face back. “Man, just take me to jail. I tried to help y’all and y’all fuck up,” raising his voice now. “And now it’s my fault? Y’all done had me in here for twenty hours asking me the same damned questions.” Now, he was shouting in the officer’s face. “Do y’alls job!”
Disgusted, Willie-B shoved himself from the table and turned away, trying to hide his anger. “Get him out of here,” adding harshly, “and tell the D.A. that the deal’s off.”
“Let’s go son. Time to put you back in your cell,” the bailiff said, grabbing Rex by the chains that connected his hands together.
Once the bailiff had escorted Rex from the room, Willie-B kicked one of the chairs. A scream burned within the pit of his stomach and took hold of his throat. The fiery anger sent him into a fit of rage when it finally found its out of his mouth.
***
With the lawyer for Pop called and freshly bagged crack in their possession, Richard and E headed over to Clown City to deliver more product to Lil’ B and Maybay. They’d arrived just in time to see Lil’ B kicking a man on the ground. His face already covered in blood, the man on the ground held his side and gasped for air. He didn’t look like he could take much more.
“Look at this wild ass young nigga,” Richard laughed, watching Lil’ B deliver one blow after another through the dark tinted windows of the Land Rover they were driving.
“Reminds me of you,” E joked, also watching Lil’ B through the window.
“I ain’t used to beat on the junkies, nigga,” Richard shook his head and pointed at E. “That’s some shit he got from you. Let’s go get him,” opening the car door,“’cause you know he ain’t gone stop.”
“Balle, stop!” Richard yelled as he slammed the driver’s side door shut.
“Man, fuck that nigga!” Lil’ B turned his attention to Richard just long enough to yell over his shoulder. He then turned his attention back to the man on the ground and bent down to yell in his face. “He better get my money ‘fore I kill his ass!”
As Lil’ B stepped forward to deliver the next blow, he felt a set of arms wrapping around his biceps. They curled up under his own arms, and pulled him away from the man on the ground. He knew those hands had to belong to Richard.
E watched Lil’ B squirm under Richard’s grasp. “How much money he owe you?” he asked, ready to join in on the beating if the amount was substantial enough.
“It ain’t nothing but twenty dollars,” Lil’ B answered, now a little calmer. No longer held by Richard, he shrugged his shoulders and tugged at his shirt as he tried to shake the last bit of anger. “But he talking like he bad, so I beat his ass.”
Accustomed to treating Lil’ B like his son, Richard’s face contorted into an authoritative scowl. “Boy, for twenty dollars, you bet not touch that dude again.”
Lil’ B nodded and dropped his eyes to the ground. He hated disappointing Richard.
Noticing the shamed look on Lil’ B’s face, Richard stepped away from the sputtering man on the ground and moved onto business. “Where Maybay at?”
Lil’ B pointed towards the trap. “He in the house, waiting on y’all.”
“A’ight, come on. Let’s do this count,” Richard said, already walking through the grass, heading towards the door.
Once inside, Maybay and Lil’ B counted out three thousand dollars and handed it over to Richard. A satisfied smile spread across Richard’s face as he recounted the money. “Y’all young niggas keep up the good work,” Richard said, placing the money in his pocket and pulling out the crack in its place. “’Cause I’m ‘bout to let y’all have this crack shit and you can just sell pills.” He handed the bag over to Maybay.
As Richard left and headed back out towards the Land Rover, Lil’ B followed behind. “Hey Paw, I need you to get me a rental.”
A sour frown crossed Richard’s face. He knew Sue wouldn’t give him a rental right now. “You gone have to chill,” he said.“Skinny’s aunt mad at me right now.”
Confused, Lil’ B asked, “For what? You gone be giving her the money for the cars, right?”
It suddenly occurred to Richard that Lil’ B knew nothing of the police chase last night. “Lil’ one, the police put me on a chase yesterday morning,” he said, tone matter-of-factly. “I had to jump out the car.”
Lil’ B envisioned the police chase in his head. A large grin spread across his face and his eyes lit with excitement. “Paw! I want one of them shits! I know you was hauling ass on them crackers.” Expressively, he waved his arm through the air.
Climbing into the front seat of his car, Richard chuckled at Lil’ B’s excitement. “Yeah, I was.” Just before Richard closed the door, he turned to Lil’B, his jovial expression replaced by one of reprimand. “Don’t be giving a crack head yo’ shit if you can’t wait on them to pay. I ain’t gone tell you no more.”
Lil’ B’s former enthusiasm was extinguished by the firm tone in Richard’s voice. Looking over to where the crack head had laid on the street just moments before, he thought about how he’d really messed up. Finally turning back to Richard, he made eye contact. “A’ight Paw. I ain’t gone fuck with buddy.”