TEN
“Ahight, ahight, yo, I think we ready to take this,” Coco said.
She fumbled to find a cigarette and lit it. She luxuriantly inhaled, well pleased with the rehearsal. The girls had bonded closer since the minor squabble between Coco and Danielle. Things had been patched up through some hard hours of rehearsal, made more intense by the scepter of rivalry. Josephine welcomed the energy, which was the by-product of the small feud, but she felt uneasy with the settlement. She was hoping there wouldn’t be any other fallout. Cory was there from the time he started to video record the act, and remained for the entire rehearsal.
“Well how’d you like it?” Danielle asked Cory after a light kiss.
“Oh, don’t even bother showing up. They could watch the videos of y’all’s rehearsals. Y’all gonna scare a lot of the comp away.” He kissed her again. Danielle held him.
He really likes the group, she thought, holding his gaze. His admiration couldn’t be directed to Coco. She’s not the attraction. It’s about me!
“Um, let’s go, lovers. Out, Out, Out.”
Josephine gently shoved the embracing couple. Coco jumped off the stage and walked out. She wiped sweat off her brow as the others approached.
“Got to go, yo,” she said. “See ya.”
“Coco. You wanna ride? We’ll all ride.”
Cory opened the car door and looked expectantly at Coco. She paused for a beat, returning the gaze.
“Ahight, since you insist on being nice, yo.”
“Save me some shorts,” Josephine said. Coco still had her cigarette. She handed it to Josephine. They got in the back seat.
“Let’s get some weed,” Danielle said.
“Yeah. Let’s go by da spot and see Deja. His shit is always on time, yo,” Coco said.
“Last time, da shit had us pumping,” Josephine said. “We had mad fun at da club after smoking that shit.”
“Remember where the spot is, honey?” Danielle asked Cory.
“Yeah,” Cory answered, heading for the Tenth Ave weed spot.
They stopped where Deja had earned his living. They did-n’t have any idea of his ending.
Deja’s decomposing body had been discovered earlier that day, after neighbors had complained about the stench coming from his apartment. When the police entered the apartment, they discovered two bodies. The police first thought what Lil’ Long had intended, that Bebop had killed her boyfriend.
The drugs and cash the police found, together with scales and other drug paraphernalia, was proof enough that the man with his face ripped open was a drug dealer. Kimberly Jones identified his body and verified that Deja was a drug dealer. However, she did not know where or with whom he had plied his trade.
Bebop’s parents went to the city morgue and confirmed her identification. The parents and friends cried immediately on seeing the body. They left completely distraught.
“Bebop is dead,” the family members cried as they went through the building. Their sadness spread through the apartment complex. Their phone rang non-stop as neighbors called to offer condolences.
“Yes, yes. She’s dead,” a family member would say and the weeping for Bebop would begin anew.
The family gave permission for an autopsy. Coroners found that the bullet that killed Bebop was not from the weapon in Deja’s hand. The police now knew that there had been at least one other person, and one other gun, in the apartment at the time of the killing.
Coco and the girls didn’t know any of this as they approached Deja’s spot on Tenth Avenue, where they witnessed Rightchus painting the colorful memorial mural.
“Oh shit,” Danielle said.
“Looks like someone’s been killed,” Josephine said.
“Yeah,” Coco said and strained for a better view. “Deja fucked around and caught a bad one, yo.”
“Oh shit! It’s the weed dealer. That’s fucked up. Where are we gonna get good weed from now?” Cory said.
They sat in the car and watched as the mural took shape on the wall. The large artwork was a testament of Deja’s standing in the hood.
In memory of Déjà vu, now macking on another level...
The graffiti inscription Rightchus had painted read. The art style was concluded with the traditional R.I.P.
Cory and the girls watched the mural as Lil’ Long and Vulcha cruised by. The music from the SUV brought the sad serenade of a drive-by. Lil’ Long rode shotgun again. Head tilted, gun in hand, he chugged from a forty-ounce bottle. The Navigator stopped and he ceremoniously poured half the beer on the asphalt. Then the SUV jerked away. The music blared, surrounding the scene with noise.
“Yo, that nigga had mad props on these streets,” Vulcha observed.
“Yeah, yeah, I saw how big that shit was, kid,” Lil’ Long said. “Vulch, wasn’t that them bitches wid that cock-deez nigga from da club?”
“I ain’t seen them. Know wha’ I’m saying, nig? I had my eyes on his boys, standing around like they had nut’n to lose,” Vulcha said.
“Fuck ‘em. They ain’t trying to do shit, dogs. They muthafucking bitch-ass drug dealers.” Lil’ Long grabbed the black Glock. “They don’t really wanna fuck around or they asses will be laid da fuck down.”
Vulcha laughed and bobbed to the beat. His action caused an erratic shaking of the vehicle.
“Chill, dogs, before you make my ass earl,” Lil’ Long said. Vulcha laughed harder and the Navigator rocked harder.
“Hey, look what da fuck you’re doing,” yelled a passing male driver. His female companion stuck her middle finger up. Lil’ Long pointed the nine-millimeter at them. They screeched away and quickly changed lanes.
“So what about this job, kid? Wanna do that shit tonight? Shoot a fat lady?” Lil’ Long asked.
“Da bitch is blackmailing this rich married muthafucka, huh?” Vulcha asked. “We should be hitting that muthafucking married mutha. He wuz da one cheating on his family. Word up.”
“Son, we getting paid to kill da muthafucking bitch. When we paid, we could discuss who should’ve been hit and all that other shit. Right now, tell me if we gonna hit da bitch tonight or not.”
“Ahight. Let’s check da strip joint. See that bitch do her thing, get a nigga’s dick hard,” Vulcha grinned.
“Ahight, cool. But I ain’t trying to sit up in that piece all night while you stare at bitches’ ass an’ all that bullshit, kid. We got work to do,” Lil’ Long said.
“A hour or so,” Vulcha said.
“Ahight, that sounds cool. One hour, muthafucka. Don’t be trying to slip away wid some bitch, saying shit like, ‘yo, I need another hour, man,’” Lil’ Long laughed. Vulcha parked near the Live Girlz neon-lit billboard and entered the club.