Hard White

“What’s the matter with you, Melquan?” India inquired. “For the last few weeks you haven’t been yourself.”

Melquan took a deep breath and sighed. “Nothing is the matter with me. I just wish you’d stop askin’ me that question. It’s really gettin’ to be annoyin’.”

“Well, how else I’m going to find out what’s wrong with you, if I don’t ask” India said. “I don’t care what you say either something’s the matter with you. You’ve been in a funk lately and you’re quiet, and moody. Are you having problems sleeping? If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were getting high.”

There was no way in the world that he was going to come clean and admit to India that he had killed a man. Even if it was desperate, India would never understand the code of the streets. Melquan felt that all the explaining in the world wouldn’t help her comprehend the strange codes of ethics that belonged on the streets. Melquan chose to hide behind the estranged relationship with his mother.

“Is the way you’re acting got something to do with the fallout you had with your mother?”

“You don’t really know my mother. She doesn’t wanna be bothered. Best thing I can do is leave her alone and give her some space.”

“This isn’t ya Cosby-like family household. Everybody deals with problems differently,” he proclaimed.

Melquan walked away and went to the bedroom, leaving India in the living room with more questions than answers. India shook her head and mentally replayed the exchange. Her instincts told her there was more to the story than Melquan was telling. She just didn’t know.

Melquan took a break from the streets, hiding out in Co-op City with his girlfriend. Mike Copeland conducted business as usual. He ran every aspect of the drug game. Mike Copeland liked the idea of being the man and was really enjoying it for the first time.

There were great responsibilities that came with being the man. Mike was now in charge of all aspects of the drug operation, paying the workers, counting the profit, purchasing the product, and bagging it up. He took it upon himself to perform all these tasks with no help. It was a lot of work for one man, but Mike Copeland loved it. This was his chance to prove that he had the business savvy to run the entire show.

Mike Copeland entered Tess’ apartment, thinking to himself that he had seen functioning crack houses that were cleaner than hers. Although he had manufactured crack in this apartment plenty of times it never ceased to amaze him how nasty the place always was. He walked to the kitchen cabinet, and removed his crack cooking utensils, Pyrex pot, baking soda, plate and razors.

Tess mut have smelled him and magically appeared from her bedroom. She stood quietly at the enterance to the kitchen.

“Hey yo, don’t start beastin’ and shit,” Mike warned her. “I don’t need you on my muthafuckin’ back, sweatin’ me fa no blast, especially when da shit ain’t nowhere near ready yet. Bye!”

Mike started the tedious process of transforming the powder cocaine to the hardwhite the street was buzzing about.

The water was boiling and he opened several packs of glassine bags in preparation for the finished product. Mike had a lot of weight to cook up. There was no way in the world he was going to be stuck up in a crack house all day. He planned on preparing a half of the food now, satisfy the demand on the street and prepare the rest of the product later.

Mike busied himself with all aspects of the manufacturing of the crack and time was rapidly flying by. About an hour in, Tess reappeared at the kitchen door. Mike slowly picked up his head from his work, and stared evilly at her.

“You… You…” Tess stuttered. “You think I could get that blast now, Mike?”

“Bitch you get on my last muthafuckin’ nerves. You always beastin’… Da shit ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Mike spat, turning away from her.

He kept walking disregarding Tess’s presence. Suddenly Mike reached down on the plate and tossed a fat piece chunk of the hardwhite on the floor. Tess’ eyes lit up immediately, and she jumped on the floor, scrambling to locate it.

Mike laughed out loud when Tess began crawling on her hands and knees to get the piece of rock. Her ashy fist clutched the hardwhite, admiring like it was diamond for a second. Climbing to her feet, Tess scurried off to her room. All she needed now was a torch and she’d be zooming to space. Raucous laughter from Mike Copeland’s belly filled the apartment.

Tess was too heavily addicted to care that she had been humiliated by Mike. She got what she wanted and Mike Copeland enjoyed a hearty laugh at her expense.

The slamming of the bathroom door signaledTess’whereabouts. This small enclosure somehow eased her extreme bouts of paranoia. Tess opened up her medicine cabinet and removed her glass stem. The dark soot of the pipe was a telltale sign of high volume of usage. Tess broke a large chunk of the hardwhite off the beige boulder, placed it in the end of her crack pipe, and laid the rest of it on the sink.

She jammed the stem between her trembling, overanxious, charcoal black lips. Tess simultaneously flicked the lighter with her shaking fingers. Tess inhaled the drug deeply, filling her lungs with a monster blast. The quick euphoric high, raced to her brain, quickly spreading through her bloodstream. Tess exhaled a large cloud of white smoke.

Her heart thumped so fast, it threatened to jump out of her heaving chest. Tess repeated the process again and again, but still couldn’t satisfy her unquenchable craving.

In the kitchen, an assembly line of three packaging crack at Tess’ kitchen table was now reduced to a one-man team. Mike Copeland hurriedly found out there was no glory in bagging up this much crack by himself. Going through the motions, Mike’s mind quickly turned to other things.

Meanwhile in a span of less than an hour, Tess high had come and gone in the blink of an eye. She touched down and all she was left with was an ever present need for more. It haunted way deep in her brain, Tess was now faced with a major dilemma. She knew Mike wasn’t going to be sympathetic to her crack addiction.

“Damn,” Mike cursed under his breath. “I gotta piss bad like a muthafucka.”

Shaking his head, Mike jumped up from the table, and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. He sucked his teeth when he saw that the door was locked. He knocked hard. The sudden pounding on the door frightened Tess. She was on all fours, searching for pieces of crack that she thought fell.

“Bitch, come up outta there!” Mike shouted. “I gotta use da fuckin’ bathroom.”

“Bitch, if you don’t come up outta there right now, I’m gonna kick this fuckin’ door down for real. C’mon, I gotta piss, man!”

Tess opened the bathroom door and the stench of burnt plastic assaulted his nose immediately. The tiny place was filled with crack residue.

Tess hurriedly brushed pass Mike with her head held low. Too paranoid and high, she was not looking him in the eye. This fact not lost on Mike Copeland.

“What da fuck wrong wit you?” he chuckled. “What’s wrong? Can’t say nothin’, bitch? That hardwhite got you twisted, huh?”

Mike stepped inside the bathroom, and whipped out his penis. He was about to drain his bladder, but felt a sharp pain in his anus. He not only needed to piss, it was also necessary for him to take a shit. Mike instinctively grabbed his gun out his waistband and placed it on the sink. Turning around, he pulled down his pants and squatted on the toilet. He shut the door.

Tess was watching Mike from her bedroom door. Once she heard the bathroom door slam, Tess sprang into action. Creeping down the hall with cat-like quietness, she headed straight for the kitchen. When she came to the enterance Tess took one look at the table and her eyes became bright as headlights. Mounds of crack, more than she had ever seen in her life, just sitting there on her kitchen table, Tess took a helping.

In her mind, the amount she took was too small to be missed from this huge mound. It was her kitchen table. People shouldn’t leave things on her table. It will eventually belong to her. Cautiously she made her way back down the hallway to her room seemingly undetected. .

Mike Copeland had finished taking his dump. Relieved, he cleaned up, washing his hands in the dirty sink. Placeing the gun back in his waistband, Mike exited the tiny bathroom.

The moment he walked back into the kitchen, he could tell that something was wrong. Although Tess had tried her best to straighten up after the theft, Mike knew the order he had situated the product.

He did an about face, and ran straight to Tess’ room. Running at full speed, Mike rammed the door with his shoulder, and it flew open.

“Bitch…!” Mike roared. “Do not play stupid. Ya know what da fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Da muthafuckin’ crack you stole. It was about an ounce of my drug, bitch. Don’t dis bizness!”

Mike slowly strode over to where Tess stood across the room. Inching closer and closer toward her, his voice dripped venom. Anticipating violence, Tess began backpedaling.

“Bitch, I know how I left my shit. I can tell that ya took sumthin ya fuckin’ crackhead. Now I’m givin’ you one mufuckin’ chance to give it back, I’m not askin’ you no more,” Mike barked.

“Mike, I really don’t know what you talkin’ bout,” Tess said, backing into a corner of the room. “I been right here in this room the whole time you were in the bathroom. I swear, Mike. God knows… for real, for real.”

Those were the last words that escaped her mouth. Mike Copeland struck quickly, slapping Tess repeatedly across her face, whipping her head from side to side like she was in an automobile accident.

“You better gimme my shit, bitch! I’m gonna kill you up in dis piece,” he angrily shouted.

Returning the piece of hardwhite never crossed Tess’ crack ravaged mind. She figured Mike would soon get tired of asking, and this entire ordeal would be over. All she had to do was convince him not to beat her to death. Then she could smoke the rock.

Soon the sting from the slaps turned into pain from punches. From every possible angle Mike rained down punches on Tess face and frail body. Tess tried to defend herself. Her wild swings caught Mike by surprise. He backed up off her and Tess charged him. Mike wasn’t a big guy, and she was able to knock him off balance.

This infuriated Mike. After staggering, he went down on his ass. Mike quickly jumped back on his feet. He swiftly drew his gun. It was already too late by the time Tess saw the weapon. Mike fired quickly. The gunshot hit Tess in the chest. She collapsed flat on her back to the floor and died instantly.

In a mad rush, his rage subsided. Mike froze, surveying the damage. He grabbed his head, in disbelief. Blood oozed from her lifeless body. Mike continued to stare dumbfounded by the fact that he had just killed Tess.

The sound of the door opening brought him back to not only reality, but severity of his situation. It got worse when he heard the voice.

Mike Copeland was spooked and ran out the room. Guilt filled his eyes when he bumped into Sheron in the hallway. He made brief eye contact with the kid, before his street sense kicked in. Gathering up all the crack, Mike fled out the door.

Puzzled, Sheron watched Mike running out the apartment before he continued the search for his mother. Although her bedroom door was wide open, Sheron’s attention was immediately drawn to the bathroom.

He was surprised to find the bathroom empty. She was always in here when at this time when I’m home, Sheron was befuddled. Considering how much time his mother spent in there getting high it was strange that she wasn’t in there. Sheron turned his attention to her bedroom. Half expecting to find his mother not in there, maybe she was high and fell asleep. Sheron’s young eyes weren’t prepared for what he saw.