The dope was gone and, Dog Boy and Long Tooth had moved a block over to Jefferson Street, to build a little crack spot down there. Crack spots were much easier to build than dope strips. Crack spots are like pop-up shops but established dope strips are like department stores. I headed there to give Dog Boy an eighth of cane.
I took Block with me over to Dog Boy’s grandma’s. Dog Boy was about to cook for the first time, so I wanted to be there to coach him through it. Usually me or Nick did it for him, but he was ready to learn and I wanted to make sure he didn’t fuck the batch up. Block was older than Dog Boy but didn’t want his own strip; he was good working with me on Madeira. Dog Boy’s grandma Faye was like family. Our whole hood greeted her like, “Hey, Aunt Faye.” She really loved me, all of us, really; we could go into her fridge and everything. I walked right in without knocking.
“Y’all li’l niggas got money now, y’all can’t be leaving the door open!” I said.
Long Tooth nodded in agreement. He got up and started checking the rest of the doors and windows. A huge pistol rested against the small of his back.
Diabetes chopped Faye’s foot off a year or so ago so she couldn’t get around and clean like she used to. I made Dog Boy have her house cleaned by fiends when he and his teenage friends had her crib smelling like armpits and ass. Her chairs were wrapped in plastic and she had a big bowl of fake fruit on the countertop, and a zillion fruit magnets on the fridge; so many that you couldn’t even see the door. I wish she had the same obsession with real fruit, because I never saw an edible piece in that crib.
Like Angie, Faye had a white Jesus on the wall too. It’s like they gave that picture to every forty-plus black woman in my hood—probably in every hood. You couldn’t find a crib without Martin, JFK, and that Kenny Rogers–looking Jesus.
“Big brova, I know how to do it, I just need you watch me! Feel me?” Dog Boy asked. I pulled a huge cup of Belvedere and removed my shirt. I never met a person who cooked crack with a shirt on. “Let’s do this,” I told him, walking into the kitchen. Long Tooth took notes.
“Yo, your li’l ugly ass can get closer, you need to learn this too!” Block told Long Tooth, pushing his shoulder. Long Tooth inched forward. Dog Boy talked his way through the cook: “Add dis, add dat, whip dis, sprinkle dat…” Dog Boy whipped up a perfect looking batch. I thought he may have cut it with a little too much Arm & Hammer, but his rocks still looked really, really good.
“Yeah, I see you cheffin’, Dog Boy! Good shit! But I’m catch y’all guys later, I gotta handle something!” yelled Young Block as he approached the door. He was always handling something or somebody. Dog Boy slapped the rocks on the table. The three of us sat in a circle and proceeded to bang up the work. Dog Boy used aqua blue tops and called his crack Big Dick and Li’l Dick. Big Dick was the dimes and Li’l Dick was the nicks.
“Li’l brova, you callin’ your drugs dick and you get no pussy, you wanna tell me something? Dog Boy, are you eating pickle?”
“Fuck you, Yo.” Dog Boy laughed. “I fucked my girl earlier!”
We capped up every spec. I was proud of my little guys.
“Yo, y’all want some girls?”
“Sure,” they said. Long Tooth looked nervous.
“Yo, you walk around with big-ass guns and sell a bunch of drugs! Relax, it’s time for you to start fucking too,” said Dog Boy as I popped a half Perk and washed it with the Belvey. Alcohol makes Perks feel 200 percent better. The three of us loaded up in my Benz. I had some girls that I could call who would be more than willing to date them if I asked, but I wanted them to score that night, so I took them to see the Knock ’Em Down Girls.
Knock ’Em Down Girls were a group of teenage prostitutes who lived in a house on Erdman Avenue. I don’t know the history behind the Knock ’Em Down Girls or who originally coined the name; however, I knew that you could fuck for forty dollars and fuck someone really attractive for ninety dollars. This round would be on me, and I was treating them to nineties.
We pulled up out front. The upstairs lights were off but the living room was bright. I saw shadows walking back and forth so I knew they were home.
“Yo, if y’all don’t wanna do this, it’s cool. I’ll take y’all home,” I told them. I didn’t want to fuck anyone in there, but I wanted to treat them.
“Man, I’ma suck a bone out one of dem pussies!” said Dog Boy, dipped back in the passenger seat.
“Man, you crazy!” I said.
I took a blunt out of my glove box and we hopped out. Three minutes of banging on the front door and big Doula opened up. Doula’s a house of a woman. Taller than me and wider than the three of us put together. Her arms were tree stumps, her back was an Escalade: she probably had to enter the door sideways.
“Dee muthafuckin’ Nice! My li’l nigga!” she said. “You finally tryin’ get ya dick wet wat us, huh?”
“Naw, not me, baby, tonight is about my young boys.” She rubbed her hands and invited us in. The house was clean and plain with no pictures; it looked like a model apartment or a Value City Furniture showroom.
“Mickey! Key Key! Come on!” Doula yelled. In a split second two beautiful young women ran down; they looked twenty-something. The one on the left was fucked up on pills or drink—still prettier than any of the women I’ve seen work in that house before, even though she was high as gas prices.
“Dog Boy, you should take the one on the left!” I recommended and he agreed. I didn’t want Long Tooth’s first time to be with someone who wasn’t completely present.
“Long Tooth, wassup? You wanna do this? You got a rubber?”
“Chill, Dee,” the girl said, “I got ’em.” She grabbed him by his hand and led him upstairs. “Ah baby, be gentle, it’s his first time!” I laughed. Long Tooth cut his eye at me in embarrassment. I waved him off. Dog Boy and his lady followed.
I flopped on the couch. “Doula, wanna hit this blunt?” She walked my way and extended her arm. I passed her the jay and she took a long pull—a pull long enough to take a half inch off of the blunt. A pull only someone with jaws as big as hers could take.
“Damn, girl, slow down!”
A stampede of coughs and chokes poured out of her. I should’ve told her that I cut the blunt with hash. That shit hit like Tyson in ’89.
“Hakkkkkkkk! Haaaaak! This some good shit, boy!” she moaned. Doula sat next me. We shared the blunt while I waited for my boys. Some other customers started rolling up. They had to wait outside until a girl was free.
“How’s business, big lady?” I asked.
“We gettin’ money like you, luv! Bout ta take my girls down black bike week in South Carolina, that’s six hundred dollars a dick down there!”
Long Tooth ran down the steps with big eyes that wrapped his face. “Dee, you ready?”
“Are you?” I asked.
He wanted to go back in one more time. Doula and I laughed.
“Don’t kill her!” she said. “We got other customers waiting!”