Chapter 23
The crack of dawn and Kalif were no strangers. Like clockwork, he was up for morning prayer and, since he was fasting now, a light workout. For Kalif and his team, there was no question about their newest mission. They wanted to rock out with the CD pills. From all accounts, they’d be semi rich by summer’s end, all driving good. Kalif’s only hope was that Allah would protect them and bless their hustle.
After his workout, Kalif placed a call to Nieem, who he trusted was up for Fajr as well. When Nieem answered, Kalif excitedly informed him that he wanted to meet as soon as possible. Nieem did not want talk on the phone in great detail, so he asked Kalif to swing by the gas station right away, before the sun came all the way up. Promptly, Kalif did as requested. When he pulled up at the gas station, there was no signs of any panhandlers, which was good for them and their well-being, not his. Before he got out of the truck, his cell phone rang. When he held the phone up, he saw that it was Jada calling.
Well, I guess she is finished playing them female games and is ready to explain why she felt the need to run away like a thief in the night, he thought. “I’ma hear her out, because I want her to make some money with this CD shit too. She deserves to win. She done put in work in the trenches. But now is not the time for me to listen. He let the call go to voicemail and made a mental note to call her back later.
After he was welcomed into Nieem’s office with open arms and an Islamic greeting, Kalif let it be known that the testers he and his crew had passed out were fire and already had the streets talking. Nieem was pleased, and so they discussed the terms of their new arrangement at great length. Neither Nieem nor Kalif wanted any misunderstandings to hinder them when things got to pumping. Most great things folded over a slight misunderstanding, something that should have been brought to the table before the venture even started. There would be none of that. This association between the two men would run smoothly and would be beneficial to all involved. Nieem offered his suggestions on how to distribute the product, but Kalif had his own ideas on how to get the job done. Realizing that Kalif or his people would be the ones on the front lines, Nieem yielded and accepted Kalif’s blueprint.
“Now we need to find common ground on the price. One we can both live with,” Nieem then announced. He was pleased with how things had gone so far, and he expected this part of the deal to be cut and dry.
“I guess it’s pretty much up to you to tell me how much you want a pill, and then I can tax in the streets what I need to make sure my people eat and it’s worth their risk,” Kalif replied. He took out his cell and hit the calculator app. “So, um, how much?”
Nieem wanted to get Kalif’s foot in the door. He liked Kalif and wanted him to do well. In reality, the pills he had access to were plentiful and were extremely cheap to make. Even after having them shipped in from Syria or Saudi Arabia, where they were going for five to twenty dollars a pop, he was only paying pennies on the dollar. So anything over one dollar meant he would at the very least double his money. However, no matter how much he liked Kalif, he wasn’t going tell him that. At the end of the day, this was still business. “So since we are just getting going, let’s say that you give me two dollars a pill. How does that sound to you?”
Kalif was elated right off the bat. He was expecting the cost would be way more than that. And if he was going through a middleman, and a black one at that, the price he would get would be triple the cost. “Okay. That’s cool with me. Definitely not a problem on my end.”
“And I know you have your own plan how to get them out into the streets, but as your business partner, can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.” Kalif was eager to hear what Nieem had to say.
Nieem went under his desk. He then placed a box of off-brand tampons in front of Kalif and asked him to open it. Although puzzled as to why, Kalif played along and did as he was asked. Once the box was open, Kalif then took out one of the tampons. Nieem then instructed him to tear off the wrapper. Awkwardly, Kalif peeled off the thin paper around the tampon.
“What the fuck,” Kalif exclaimed as pills spilled everywhere.
“Yes, son, in the future open each one over a shoebox or a deep bowl. It’s much easier to contain them that way.”
Kalif was amazed as he tried his best to scoop up the small pills. “This is crazy.”
“So my suggestion is this. For a short time only, you offer one pill for eight dollars and two for twelve dollars on a quick flip. If you do sell them one by one, that’s a six-dollar profit on each pill after my cut. Each box has forty tampons, with a hundred fifty pills inside each tampon. That’s twelve thousand dollars a box you will owe me. You can figure out your cash on your end later. As long as I get my payment each week, I’m good.”
Kalif still thought the play and the possibilities were good. There was no front money, just making money. “All right, then.” He reached for the box, ready to hit the streets.
“No, no, this is not for you. My people are waiting in the front for you. I have a whole case of twenty-four of these boxes ready for them to carry to your truck for you. That’s two hundred eighty-eight K in total you will owe me when this is completed. Just make sure you store them in a cool place.” Nieem reached for his cane so he could stand to his feet and shake Kalif’s hand and thus seal their new partnership. “Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t, Nieem. And thanks for the vote of confidence. Now let me go out here, hit the streets, and make us both some money.” Kalif’s head was always held high when he walked. But now his stride would be different. He’d just officially crossed over on his way to becoming a true legendary kingpin of Detroit. It was his time to shine. This was a moment he’d been waiting for, for a very long time, practically since birth.
* * *
Jada was wide awake. She was used to waking up while Kalif said his morning prayers, and she knew this would be a habit hard to break. Having come back to her normal self, she thought about what she’d done the day before. Whereas she hadn’t been concerned about her actions then, she was now. She had not had this type of episode for years and was in denial. Now that she was no longer hyped, the thought that she was solely responsible for an old woman’s death was fucking with her.
It wasn’t her style to let anyone get under her skin and get a reaction, but Stacy and her friends had caught her at the wrong time, when she was feeling hurt and vulnerable. Kalif had her going crazy, the way he was ignoring her, as if she meant no more to him that a speck of dirt on the ground. She didn’t know what it was about him that she loved so much. After all, he was self-centered, self-serving, and had never once shown her affection she yearned for. Now, if the truth came out about the fire, the bottom line was that her cousin Jewels was right. It would not only make the entire household as hot as the Fourth of July, but it would mean that Jada had thrown away her entire life and probably her freedom in the process.
Jada was fucked up and had fucked up. She wanted to call Kalif for advice on what to do next, but she knew from his actions that he had stopped giving a damn about her. Swallowing her pride, she decided that she had nothing to lose by calling him. Despite it all, he was the only person whose opinion she trusted, and she knew he would advise her well on what she should do next. After picking up her cell, she dialed Kalif’s number. His phone rang and rang as she held her breath in anticipation of hearing his voice. But she was met by his voicemail. Knowing how many times the phone rung, she surmised that he’d disregarded her call on purpose.
After watching the sun come all the way up, she turned on the morning news. Jada prayed the reporter from the night before had been mistaken. That the old woman had actually pulled through and even that Stacy’s bitch ass was okay. After a few words about the threat of heavy rain showers today and a commercial break, the local news was up. The tragic deadly fire was again the top headline story. When she saw the house on the TV screen, Jada felt such guilt that it was as if her head might explode. Then a picture of the deceased elderly victim flashed across the screen. Next, an interview with the fire chief indicated that not only had it been determined that the cause of the fire was arson, but that they also had a person of interest they wanted to interview. The news reporter promised to make the images of that person available to the general public as soon as possible.
Jada didn’t know what to do or say next. The only thing she could do was pray that this person was not her, even though deep down inside, she knew she was cooked.