“I want to grow. I want to be better. You Grow. We all grow. We're made to grow.You either evolve or you disappear.”
― Tupac Shakur
I look at all the money in the brown envelope and just from observation she stuck the councilman for his paper and still sung like a canary to the news media. I read about her in the paper while being stuck in Buffalo for four hours. Hours prior money was exchanged to do her in for his wife. Dr. E came to me snot face, red eyes, dressed in $200 dollar boots, Michael Kors purse and money transferred to my bank account in the amount of 25,000. A woman scorn, pretty, petite, rich, and prissy. Her hair in a tight knot, matte lipstick, and a huge diamond ring.She hands me her picture.
“Get rid of Janae Morris.”
“Your husband cheated on you too but whatever. You did that money transfer to my account?
“Yes.He’ll get his but that grotesque bitch I want to stay away from me and my husband .”
“Like dude fucked a whole bunch of women.Why her?”
“ Because I befriended her and she betrayed me. Just handle her, leave my name out of it and keep your mouth shut.”
“Didn't he dick down your sister too?”
“This is personal.”
“Your sister fucking your husband is blood relative personal. She ain't got shit on you.”
She lowers her head, and sighs,
“She has his heart and out of all the women in his life. He is in love with her and that why she has to be rid of. Once a man gives his heart there's no turning back.”
I look at her face on the picture, attractive, thick and innocent chick caught up in the game. Damn.
“How, do you want me to take her out paralyze her, shoot, or snap her neck.”
“Just destroy her to the highest level you can imagine. Just never let her come back to Buffalo.”
The woman sitting next to me was suppose to be dead long before her foot hit the steps of the bus.The articles, the videos, and she is just another naive broad in love with some no good dude. I have to figure her out and see if she is the one I help.
Her hand was shaking as she handed me the envelope.
“Ma, put your green away and if I was going to kill you’d be dead already. Secondly, never make assumption about anyone and never freely hand over your loot.
I’m just fucking with you I saw your face on the news and the paper. Is that why you on the bus?” She snatched the envelope and stuff it back in her bra. She rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth,
“It’s none of your business why I am on this bus?” She snapped.
Within two seconds for her being a smart ass I could have snapped her neck. I didn’t need the heat on me, when my mission was to approach my murderer and not catch a felony. Ms. E husband is a grimey ass creep laying his dick in any hole willing to be open. She gave me cash to get rid of her any way but she never uttered the words kill her. She’s smacking on gum and popping it.
“Look Ma, watch your tone with me on some real live shit don’t come for me with all your attitude. Your the one on the run from some old dude who promise you the moon but gave you the dirty gum under his shoes. All I am saying is put your green up and be real happy I ain't do what I wanted. If I was shady I would have taken your cash and ran you should say thank you.” She turned to look out the window and folded her arms. I saw the cut marks on her wrists. It was several lines going across. She notices I was looking and pulled her sleeve down.
“Thank you and I am not your Ma. My name is Janae.” I observe the roundness of her face the single dimple on the right side of her cheek, her lips glossed with Vaseline, her hair had those crinkle curls from braids that just came out. I extend my hand and introduce myself.
“Brick and I called you Ma because I didn’t know your name.”
“Brick isn’t your real name and since you will be sitting next to me for the next two hours I want your real name.”
“Like I told you my real name is Brick, Janae.”
I put back on my headphones and listen to Tupac’s me against the world. I glance at her every once in a while as she sketched what she saw outside. She bit her bottom lip, her hand moving quickly as if she was breathing life into her pictures. Ms. Janae had skills when it came to drawing. The finish product was the exact replica of a Man eating a hamburger from Joe’s Big Angus Burger.
I logged onto Facebook and looked to see if my murderer accepted my friend request. I went on her page and she has now blocked me. My murderer could run from me but eventually she and I would be face to face. I scroll through and read some of the post and after all the pictures of ass shots, grown ass women making fish faces, poking their lips out, the others talking about being turned up or twerking in the club. A half dozen chicks who inbox me their number while the others were women I fucked from time to time wanting to get up. I looked up Janae's name to see if she had one and checkout her mindset. I scrolled through and she share famous quotes and artwork from Vincent Van Gogh to Jacob Lawrence. He looked at her photos of her painting and sketching. Various pictures of her from a little girl sitting at a canvas and I study the pictures she always wore long sleeves even in the summer months. I looked over at her and her sleeve was rising and the cuts on her wrists were also on her forearm, they were fairly new and I wanted to question her and ask what happen.
Two messages popped up and it was both from Sergeant Dartes from Syracuse Truce team. He wrote in French
“ Are you alright?”
“ I reply in French
“ Yes, making the destination to see my murderer.” He posted a side eye picture.
“ You’re alive so she didn’t murder you?”
“I have the death certificate to prove she is my murderer. Did you find the address? I helped you and you promise me an address.
“If I give it to you do you promise not to do something stupid like kill her?”
“. I don’t want to kill her I want a reason why.”
It was several minutes of pause and several post about tonight’s episode of Scandal popped up. Dudes from several gangs put up stats wanting to get the snitch that sold out the whole damn 357 murder gang. They posted possible pictures of known snitches on their timeline. I lost my breath and not one time did my picture post. No one assumed I would ever turn on family and snitch them out. I was the snitch because I had to make a choice my freedom or theirs. In their mind I was on quest to find my birth mother not hide from my sins against my brothers. I talked about the shit since I was nine years old so me leaving wasn't suspicious. I type in French,
“You gone answer me or ignore me.”
“352 Aladdin Avenue. She live in Baldwin Hills, California.”
He logged off his job spying on the fools that post their whereabouts, who they shot, who they sold drugs to or bought food stamps from. People posted their whole damn life and gave the police, government, DEA and FBI all the information. It is a way for people to give away information without ever signing a release. People telling their business on Facebook was used to collect the truth and sort through lies. Facebook was for the elite to show and tell how their life was better than the average motherfucker. Facebook was about showboating and showing off while the Feds collected information to use against you.
It was how I found my murderer posting pictures of her plush life in California with her husband and two children. She married a white man, her children are the perfect complexion and have good hair. She posted pictures of birthday celebrations, Christmases and Thanksgiving.
On Linkedin she ran her own beauty salon and spa in Leimert Park. She lived the life of a innocent person when in fact she should be prosecuted to the fullest. My anger rose as Eminem's I’m sorry Mama played. I thought of the letters I wrote to her. The days I dream of her picking me up from school and taking me away from the foster homes. One day when I was ten I thought she came to my school and her and Ms. Grace argued. I wanted to believe she was fighting for me. She was an illusion and yet she reappear everyday in my mind.
I dreamed of the Christmases she would come to the door with an armful of gifts and a brand new pair of Jordan’s. I dream more of her hugging me or kissing me than of a broad fucking me. I look over and try to shake the thoughts of her and look over as Janae’s head is lying on my shoulder like I am her man. She is pretty while she sleeps and she looks almost angelic. I look outside the window and see the thick gray clouds and the drops of rain hitting the window washing away the last bit of snow. It was another hour ride before I transfer in Cleveland, Ohio. I logout of Facebook, turn off my headphones, and take another peek of Janae. Her sleeves are higher and I see more marks on her arm. One of the slits are bleeding and red drops of blood leaking on my pants.
“ Yo, Janae get up!” She pops open her eyes and jumps up. I point to her arm and she reaches in her pocket for some tissue.
“Who cut your arm up like that?”
“None of your business.” She snapped.
“Look your arm is leaking on my sweats so it is my business.”
She dabs the tissue on her arm and pulls the sleeve down. I hand her a few Band-Aids.
“Tissue isn’t going to stop the bleeding and cover it up with these.”
“Thank you Brick and sorry for getting blood on your pants. " She rubbed the tissue into my pants touching the tip of my manhood. I grab her hand and stop her.
"It's good."
"I need to get pass and go to the bathroom."
I stand up and she steps out staring me in the face. I point to the bathroom and I look on her seat there is an white clear bag with a powdery substance. I sit back down and stuff it in my pocket because I knew it was coke and how stupid could she be to travel with it. The bus pulls into the depot in Cleveland, Ohio. I see the Border patrol cars, the officers walking to the front of my bus. I curse under breath and try to figure out what to do with the drugs that wasn't mine.
She is still in the bathroom and they advise everyone not to get off the bus. I pull out my wallet and I bend down to stuff the plastic bag in my shoe. Each man walks past requesting Identification. The tall white boy looks over my picture, then my eyes and hands it back. My heart beating and my anger is at three thousand degrees. They walk off and Janae walks towards the seat. I grab my bag and rush off the bus waiting to give her a piece of my mind. I take the bag and throw it in the trash. Still no Janae and now I worry for the stranger I met two hours ago.
I walk back on the bus and ask the driver,
"Did you see a heavy set black girl with a blue jacket on. ?"
"She got off and a tall man took her by the hand and they left. "
He pointed to the alley way. It was the same dude staring at us when she pulled the money out. I ran to the alley and looked around. She was gone and I have no clue why I am searching for her or maybe she is the one I’m suppose to save.