10
Catch and Release

I was still debating with myself aloud about what had happened last night while in the process of dialing Oz. “Did what happened, that I know shouldn’t have happened, actually happen, or had I only dreamed it happened, because that’s what I really wanted to happen but know it couldn’t happen?”

“Hello.” I took the initiative of informing him, “Yeah Oz, I was just calling to say I’m on my way up by you.”

He somberly stated, “I thought you’s gone be a while.”

Not wanting to get into a long drawn-out discussion. “Stuff happens…plans change,” I told him. “I’m on my way.”

“B’fore you get here; need you to stop by and see Terry off Broadway, where you was the other day. He s’pose ta have a special package…somethin I been wait’n on. After that, stop ova at Charlie’s Place,” he requested.

“Now Oz, you know I don’t have a problem with what you and Terry got go’n on cause that don’t ‘mount to nothing more than moving restricted product like cigars, a little home brew, and stuff. But the shit Charlie be handling; that’s different.”

Oz, obviously, wasn’t in the mood for a debate, “Just swing by Terry’s on the way but be sho ‘n see Charles.”

“What’s up with Charlie now?” I asked. “Has he gone and messed up again, already?”

“No, it’s cool. He got somethin for me…pick it up on yo way here,” Oz confirmed.

“Where’s Amp? Why can’t you have him run over an’ see Charles? He’s the one who likes playing in the dirt,” I protested. “You know I don’t mess around with that…”

“Just git yo ass over there and do what I told you!” Oz demanded. “I don’t remember askin you a damn thang. Somethin need doin, and I told you to do it. Now that’s all the talk there gone be ‘bout it!”

I was honestly more concerned than upset; trying to figure out what was eating at the old man. Regardless of what’s going on, he knows this is not the music I dance to, I thought as I continued up the Westside Highway en route to Harlem.

While thinking how it was so unlike Oz to ever raise his voice…especially at me, “All right,” I reluctantly conceded. “I’ll take care of everything on my way.”

Stopping at Terry’s meat market, though it entailed much more pleasure than the anticipated challenge awaiting me at Charlie’s, was still somewhat unsettling; just for a different reason. “Ms. Sharon,” I greeted his daughter upon entering.

“Willie,” she responded. “Dad in the back. I’ll get him for you”

“Is everything all right?” I posed. “Not trying to get in your business, but you look as though you’ve been crying.”

“It’s nothing; just a situation wit dad. He trippin again…just being him.”

“Something you want to share?” The question was more instinctive than anything else. “I mean, sometimes it helps to hear yourself verbalize the problem.”

“It ain’t really all that much of a prob’lem. Nothing that’s no different than it always have been,” Sharon disclosed. “He thinking e’rybody look at me more’n two seconds just wanna git in my pants.”

Already, the details of their family spat encompassed more than I’d anticipated…and definitely more than I wanted to discuss with Sharon. “That’s not something you’re going to be able to change very much. You can’t really blame him for being a dad; looking out for his princess.” Immediately, my mind scolded me. Now, I know damn well you didn’t just fix your face to say that!…many times you done had her naked inside your own head.

“So, do my daddy need to be trying to protect me from you?” she bluntly questioned. “How you see me?”

Definitely caught off guard, “I, uh…I mean, you are nice.”

“That’s all you see?” Sharon pressed, “A nice little girl?”

“Well, I mean you’re very attractive and I can’t see why anybody wouldn’t want to…”

“Want to what; get in my pants?” She posed again, making me feel caged. “That’s what you be thinking about too?”

“What is it you thank’n Willie?” Terry materialized from the back of the market. “Thought I heard somb’dy come in minute a’go but I was in the cooler.”

Now, I was beginning to feel like a cornered rattlesnake and definitely wanted to change the subject, “Uh, hey. What’s going on, Terry? Oz asked me to stop by; said you had something special for him.”

“Yeah, my contact hooked me up wit some of them Gurkha His Majesty’s Reserves day ‘fore yesterday and I know he been looking fo more cigars since month ‘fore last, when he give out of ‘em,” Terry detailed.

“Man, those some serious tobacco leaves. Where you find them?” I posed, more for the sake of avoiding the previous topic of discussion than anything else.

“I don’t really have no need for stuff like that,” Terry disclosed, “But folks say them things, for peoples in’trested, be pulling fifteen grand a box. And less ‘n two dozen in each one,” he calculated. “Seven hundred fifty dollars for a smoke is li’l too steep for my taste.”

“You know Oz; he always saying how it’s important to get the most out of life you can while living it,” I recalled.

“Get’in the most outta life ain’t my pro’lem. But, at that cost, I can find a lot ‘mo enjoyment than something just gone turn to ashes,” he identified.

“You won’t get an argument from me on that one. Seems like there are a thousand other places I could use flow like that,” I agreed.

“Ain’t nobody I deal wit in this part ‘o Harlem even know what they’d be lookin at if they did come ‘cross that box but I wasn’t tryin to take no chances,” he pointed out, disappearing beyond the wall behind the display case. “Let me get ‘em from the office.”

In the brief moment her dad was gone, Sharon opted to revisit our previous conversation and suggested, “Why don’t you talk to him? He likes you.”

“Who likes me?” I questioned. “Talk to who about what?”

“You know, my dad,” she explained. “I happen to know he thinks a awful lot of you; not like nobody else I done seen him deal wit.”

“Understand something, Sharon,” I shared, “You’re not likely to have too much trouble out of that Rottweiler until he sees you too close to the fence.”

“What?” She questioned. “Willie, what the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

“Long story short; it means I don’t want to get too close and piss your dad off,” I said. “He thinks a lot of me because I’m not perceived as a threat but one wrong move and his thoughts would definitely change.”

Terry suddenly appeared again, “Whose thoughts will change? And ‘bout what?”

“Man, you gotta stop doing that.”

He seemed a little perplexed, “Stop doing what? I’s just get’n the cigars for Oz like I had told you.”

“No dad,” Sharon interjected, “We’s talking ‘bout what he thinks you think of him and I’s sayin how he different from other guys.”

“And just what is it you thinking I think of you, Willie?” Terry folded arms resembling small saplings across his chest.

“Well Terry, I…I have no idea what that would entail since I’m not in the habit of spending a great deal of time inside another man’s head,” I responded.

He looked me up and down with scrutinizing eyes, “To be honest, I been trying to figure on what business you got in this business anyways. You seem to handles yourself all right; I ain’t taking nothing from you but it don’t seem you belongs out here wit the rest of us.”

“Funny thing…I get that a lot.” My reply came without thought. “Everybody thinks I’m out of place.”

“You know, Willie, if it was a different time, I might would give permission for you and Sharon. If things was different.” Terry suddenly shook his head as though unable to believe the words had come from him.

I found myself, again, walking a tight rope. “Terry, I’m not saying your daughter isn’t my type but I do have more respect for you both to even approach Sharon like that.”

“What you mean?” Sharon’s offense was obvious. “Hear that, dad? The one person that I mighta had a chance with of all the people I know, you know, and you the reason he won’t even look at me.”

“What I mean is that my relationship with your father wouldn’t allow me to cross that line, Sharon,” I gingerly burst her bubble. “You’re too good for me to drag you through all the dirt in my life.”

“Oh, don’t think I ain’t done noticed you noticing Sharon when you be coming through, Willie,” Terry clarified. “Hell, if you ain’t paid no a‘tention to her, I’d been thinking something wrong wit you.”

“It’s just a matter of me having more respect for you, Mr. Terry. Some things just aren’t supposed to happen; no matter how bad you might want them to.”

“You saying you never thought about wanting to get together and stuff,” Sharon put me on the spot. “’Cause I ain’t like all them other girls you done met?”

“No, that’s not the reason; ‘least not the only reason,” I said. “In fact, I’ve seen too many women out here who think they got a stake in the game. If I thought you were one of them, you’d just be another one of them.”

Terry kind of half smiled, “See baby girl, that’s the reason I be telling you don’t be out there just connecting wit er’ybody ‘cause they ain’t all the same. Willie got plenty sense. Too much to be doing what he doing, in my opinion.”

“Seriously, Mr. Terry,” I started.

“C’mon man, you can knock it off wit the mister stuff. I ain’t that old,” Terry scolded.

“I can’t really do anything about that, Mr. Terry; just the way I was raised,” I pointed out.

Sharon spoke up again, “See there daddy, all the good ones gone or just too respectful to get on your bad side.”

“You should just be proud of the fact your dad is looking out for you. He could be like a lot of dads and just not give a… Just not care.”

“My life prob’ly be a lot more fun if he ain’t care so much,” she cut.

“You only think that’s what you want because you never had to wonder what it’d be like to not have your dad around caring the way he does,” I specified.

Terry’s temperament changed, “I ain’t gone make no ‘pologies for doing my best to look out for you, Sharon. Your mama made me promise, the last day she lived, that I’s gone keep you from being swallowed up by these streets. Far as I’m concerned, I ain’t got no other purpose in life except to look after you.”

Oddly enough, as the shop owner finished his statement, a couple guys wearing hoodies passed into the market. I noticed they immediately moved in opposite directions, which had them positioned on either side of the small retail space. Sharon greeted the two gentlemen, as was the expectation when customers entered the market, but neither one said anything.

A sneaky suspicion had me extend salutations to the father/daughter team, “I guess I’ll catch you guys later,” and make my way toward the door.

“But we wasn’t finished talking,” Sharon commented.

“I’ve seriously over stayed my welcome,” I said while confirming the time. “We can pick up where the conversation left off when I pass through again but I’m running more than a little late.”

“All right,” Terry called out as the old wooden door closed behind me, “’Til next time.”

Outside the store, I instantly stopped to peek back through the small glass opening in the center of the door. Just as I’d figured, the two thug impersonators approached Terry and one held a handgun on Sharon while the other barked orders.

The lead hood demanded, “I know you be fencing some high-dollar product, man. My boy told me you just got in a big shipment. Said it was lotta good shit too.”

“I don’t know who been feeding you but it look like they push’n some bad info,” Terry covered.

“See, you wanna be playin games but I ain’t got no time for yo bullshit, old man!” He threatened. “CJ, pop that bitch ‘an let dude know we ain’t playin!”

“Okay,” Terry said, “All that ain’t even necessary. Stuff don’t mean that much.”

“You the one playin games ‘n shit; like we got all damn day to be hangin ‘round fuckin off,” CJ yelled. “I oughtta cap yo old ass for the hell of it.”

That was as much as I needed to hear and decided the time had passed to crash their little party. Coming through the door, “Forgot to introduce myself,” KA-CLACK, I announced; knocking CJ off with a single shot to the head. “Get down Sharon!”

“You mutha…”

His partner never finished the thought, KA-CLACK, KA-CLACK, KA-CLACK, “Dammit, you never met my mama.” The three rounds had flung the second perp over the counter.

“Willie, what da hell is you doin back here?” Terry asked, instinctively.

“What difference does it make why I came back?” I posed the rhetorical question. “Just be glad I did.”

“If my dad ain’t, I know I never been so glad to see you in all the time we knowed each other,” Sharon said as she embraced me.

I couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy and tried to not make it obvious; pulling away and asking her dad, “How you gone explain this to the police?”

“Ain’t nothing to ‘splain,” he casually commented while dragging the first body to position it beyond the wall behind the counter.

“But what if somebody asks about all this blood?” I questioned.

Terry kind of half smirked, “You mean somebody might have a question ‘bout why they’s blood all over the floor of a meat market?”

“I’m just saying, Mr. Terry, if somebody starts poking around,” I started.

The question was posed more to Sharon, “This type stuff doesn’t bother you?”

“It used to when I’s younger but my dad says I’m better ‘cause he don’t try to shelter me from the truth. Life ain’t pretty as people try to paint it,” she reasoned.

“Honestly Willie?” Terry asked in an elevated tone. “Do you really think nobody never tried me before? With the associates I got, there’s a advantage to operating a meat market.”

“Truth be told, I think I’ve heard more than enough,” I considered the direction of the conversation.

“Just know there’s a big difference between ground beef and ground Chuck or Larry or Craig,” Terry made a tasteless joke.

I excused myself, “I really do have to be going but thanks for letting me know it’s a wise idea to never eat anything you grill, Mr. Terry.”

“That’s why I been a vegetarian since around the time I’s seven,” Sharon confirmed. “Our fam’ly done been through some hard times and I a’ways wondered how we never went for long witout meat in the house.”

“You honestly think I’d feed that stuff to my own family?” Terry protested as I approached the exit. “Some thangs, even I won’t do.”

“Well, I hope not to ever be in a situation where I’ve gotta try figuring out whether the meat came from the freezer or the floor,” I laughed as the door closed behind me. “Catch ya next time.”