Chapter 5

 

Story Avenue was lit up by traffic and street lights when the cab dropped Eric and Jahad off in front of his building. Instead of going to his apartment, Jahad led Eric across the street into the park where Tony and the crew were sitting around their usual park bench hustling. The park was crowded with people selling drugs, smoking drugs, or either looking for drugs while rap music came from someone’s radio in the distance.

Tony stood as they approached and gave Jahad a thug’s hug, “What up?”

“Ain’t shit, just got my ass off work... this is my man Eric,” Jahad nodded towards Eric, who’s attention was on a group of young project chicks walking through, “Eric!”

“Yo, what up?” He turned grinning, “Ayo, them bitches got some juicy asses.”

Jahad laughed, “Let me find out you a sucka for love ass nigga... these my mans Tone, Razor, Derrick, Joey, Kwan...where’s Cream?”

“Probably out fuckin’ something,” Tony said shaking Eric’s hand. “What’s up Sun?”

“I’m good Tone,” Eric went on to shake hands with the rest of the crew.

“Me and the Homey work together. Sun is sick with the flow too,” Jahad patted Eric on the back, “this is the next Jay right here.”

“Word, Sun can spit?” Shit, let’s have a session then. We need some more trees tho’.” Derrick said reaching in his pocket for some money.

“I got it Dee,” Eric pulled out his money and counted off fifty dollars, “c’mon, let’s troop it to the weed spot.”

“Nah, chill Sun,” Tony looked over at a crackhead who was over by the monkey bars, with his head down, searching for a hit. “Ayo Luck! Make a run to the weed spot for me, I’ll bless you when you get back.”

The crackhead quickly ran over.

“Ayo, don’t try no slick shit Luck. We live in the same building, so I’ll see your ass eventually,” Tony motioned for Eric to give the crackhead the money.

“I worked my ass off for that dough, so if you fake a move, I’m a fuck you up personally.” Eric said before handing over the money.

“I put the Homey up on our money scheme,” Jahad said addressing his crew once the crackhead left, “I was dead ass serious when I said we signing him. Ayo, Eric, spit some of that hot shit for ‘em.”

On cue, Razor started beating on the table while Joey and Kwan harmonized a Hip-Hop melody.

“Ayo, Ayo, Ayo,” Eric said catching the beat, “I buy niggas like slave traders to spray haters/ Niggas claimin’ they players, but my game’s greater/ I never trick on a slut, yo what the fuck/ I keep a dime in my truck/ don’t do the ducks/ With pussy good like fruit loops, a good screw/ I ain’t spend no cash, I’m a pimp duke/ My bitches call me the shit just like I’m do-do/ But I smell like roses/ My neck and wrist is frozen/ I be pimpin’ my hoe’s man/ And movin’ them O’s five hundred a pop/ You coppin’ a lot the prices might drop/ You never know, so get your weight up, your outta state up and you just might blow/ And when I flow, it’s sorta like a money machine cause every time I spit it equals dough...”

Tony cut in picking up the rhyme, “I see so much paper dog my eyes are green/ Started out on fifth avenue snatchin’ wallets and chains/ followed up in the park selling dimes to feens/ I smartened up, stopped trickin’, started stackin’ my cream/ then my man came home, he rebuilt the team/ He said Tone just watch we gon’ do our thing/ And not long after that we started slingin’ them things/ No more digital scales, we using triple beams/ Now all them block niggas, yo, they cop from me/ So get your cake up it’s twenty a key/ Break it down and make fifty/ Maybe a little more, my coke is pure/ On the whip up, you get your shit off/My coke is raw...”

Derrick came in next with his aggressive flow, “You don’t gotta like me, you gon’ respect me tho’/ Or expect it when I pimp smack you like a hoe/ Put my finger in your face, all up in your nose/ Let you know I ain’t the one, you fuckin’ stupid/ I don’t do a lot of talkin’ I just do it/ I’m only talkin’ now because I’m makin’ music/ Don’t give a fuck about your man’s or who you move with/ them nigga’s bitches and you know they ain’t gon’ do shit/ Don’t really care, if you go and find a new clique/ ‘Cause like I said before them niggas ain’t gon’ do shit/ I keep the gat Duke and I keep two clips...”

To everyone’s surprise, Jahad grabbed the beat, “Ayo, I plan shit for hours/ Study 48 laws of Power/ Then watch me blow niggas like the Twin Towers/ I’m crazy ‘noid, keep the biscuit like I’m mixing flour/ Hardly smile ‘cause the hood I’m from is crazy sour/ I know you know about them cold nights and lonely days/ On the Ave. serving feens like you fuckin’ slaves/ Don’t want a job, you’ll be hustling ‘till you in a grave/ But I’m a rob you ‘cause it’s in my fuckin’ DNA...”

“Oh shit! Jah, you been holdin’ out on niggas!” Razor said excitedly, stopping the beat, “Word up Sun, that’s that bullshit.”

Jahad laughed, “I do a little something; keep that beat going tho’.”

As the rap session continued, people from all over the park crowded around in a massive circle. Soon it turned into a mini concert. Every few minutes a new rapper would break through the crowd, set on showing his skills. The drug dealing, stick-ups, and everything else that usually went on was forgotten as the essence of Hip-Hop took hold of the crowd, their energy radiating like heat waves. The rappers fed off this energy, soaked it up like a sponge, then gave it right back to the crowd with hot bars and slick metaphors.

Three hours later, after close to twenty nickel bags of weed were smoked, the session finally broke up. Razor’s skin on his right hand was raw from beating so long, but he was still willing to keep the beat going. The session was just that hot. Eric stole the show. His animation, versatility, and delivery was live enough to raise the dead, plus he could freestyle at will. When Jahad looked at him, not only did he see a friend, he saw dollar signs. Once they got their feet in the door, Eric was the ticket to take them straight to the top.

~~~~

Once everybody went their separate ways, Jahad walked to his building still high and keyed up from the rap session. His thoughts were filled with fantasies of his record label: Money Getting Records or Black Market Music or …it all came to a halt when he keyed himself in and saw Janet posted up by the elevator, scowl on her pretty face, arms folded tightly across her chest. She wore a pink sweater, tight black Polo jeans, and a pair of pink Timbalands, with her honey blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. The second she saw Jahad she pushed herself off the wall, her green eyes blazing with anger.

“You self-centered bastard! You don’t do no corny shit like that to me. You know how many niggas be begging for this pussy?” She spat stepping in front of him.

Jahad kept his face impassive, as if he didn’t hear her and side stepped towards the elevator. He wasn’t use to confrontations unless fists were thrown, and he wasn’t about to hit her. Deep down he wanted to have a repeat of last night. On the same token, he wanted to slap the shit out of her for suggesting that he was gay.

“Don’t ignore me muthafucka,” Janet spun him around by his shoulder, “Who in the hell do you think you are!?”

Jahad’s patience evaporated, she just wouldn’t leave him alone, “I’m Jah bitch, that’s who in the fuck I am!” He yelled inches from her face, “The same nigga who got up in the middle of the fuckin’ night to come see your stuck up ass, only to be fuckin’ insulted! Yeah, I did three years in jail, so fuckin’ what. I did it to feed my damn family and I’ll do it again if I have too. You or none of the other muthafuckas who think like you gon’ make sure my family eats. So fuck your opinion and fuck you!”

With that, he turned and walked off towards the staircase, leaving Janet lost for words. A few minutes later he exited the staircase on his floor, out of breath from running up ten flights of stairs and pissed off for still having Janet on his mind. He didn’t care about the guys who begged for her pussy. He wasn’t about to be one of them, although the comment struck a nerve. He’d see what she had to say when he was CEO of his own record label he thought as he stopped and knocked on Emma’s door. At the moment she would be the perfect distraction to help take his mind of Janet.

“Hold on, hold on. Ole Emma is coming.” She called out. A few seconds passed before she opened the door wearing a white apron over a gray cotton dress. In her hands was a pan of oatmeal cookies, straight out the oven. “Hey baby. I know you ain’t just getting off work?” She asked looking at his dirty clothes.

Jahad thought he caught a whiff of marijuana mixed in with the cookie aroma, but was too embarrassed to ask if she was getting high, “Nah Mrs. Harris, I came by to drop off this dough. You a’ight with groceries?”

“Yes baby, and I don’t need any money. I have everything I need for now.”

“You can never have enough money.” He said digging in his pocket, just as Janet bent the corner after stepping off the elevator.

“Jahad, can I speak with you please?” She asked meekly.

Emma and Jahad turned their heads in her direction. Emma giving her a warm smile, “How you doing young lady? I’m Mrs. Harris, and Jahad ain’t going nowhere until he comes in and have some of these cookies, so you may as well come in too.”

Jahad didn’t even bother to glance at Janet as he followed Emma inside. He said all he had to say and wasn’t in the mood for arguing. She could save that drama for one of the guys who begged for her pussy.

In the kitchen, Emma pulled out two chairs for them to sit, then went to the refrigerator and took out a gallon of milk. Janet gave Jahad an inquiring look, smelling the strong odor of marijuana, but he ignored her.

“Jahad, I know you like ice in your milk. How about you young lady... What’s your name baby?” Emma asked over her shoulder while taking an ice tray from the freezer.

“Janet, but I’m not in the mood for cookies Mrs. Harris. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh, nonsense. There’s no such thing as being in the mood for cookies. Now do you want ice or not?”

Janet giggled, “Since you put it that way, yes ma’am. I’d like some ice.”

“That’s more like it.” Emma smiled as she poured two glasses of milk. After placing the milk and a platter of cookies on the table, she pulled a chair out for herself and sat beside Jahad taking hold of his hand. “How was your day baby?”

“It was A’ight. I worked my ass... butt off. Everything was good after I got off, then I bumped into this certain person,” Jahad cut his eye at Janet, “who approached me with a bunch of bullsh-... nonsense after calling me a criminal and suggesting that I was a homo.”

Emma shot Janet a scowl, “Well whoever this person is, must not know you too well.”

“See, we on the same page Mrs. Harris.” He kissed Emma on the cheek, and then gave Janet a smug grin.

“That’s why I came up here, to apologize. I’m woman enough to admit when I’m wrong.”

Emma looked from Janet to Jahad, enjoying her role as a peacemaker, “Now you see there Jahad, that’s a lady for you. You don’t see many these days. Being the man you are I know you’ll accept her apology.”

Jahad mumbled something under his breath.

“What you say baby?” Emma asked just as her phone rang. “Ya’ll go ‘head and finish the cookies, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Once she walked out they sat in an uncomfortable silence. Janet staring at Jahad, Jahad keeping his attention on the cookies he kept stuffing in his mouth. He finally broke the silence when there were no more cookies to eat. “So you came to apologize, huh?”

“Yes, I was way out of line; I didn’t expect you to take what I said the way you did though.”

“How else was I supposed to take it? That criminal shit, I let slide, but a homo? C’mon Ma, the only thing funny about me are my jokes.”

“I never said you were gay.”

“You were hinting at it tho’!” Jahad snapped. Two words he refused to be called were a snitch and gay.

“And I’m sorry,” Janet replied calmly, “You can’t accept my apology?”

He studied her a second before grinning, “If you weren’t so pretty, no. How ‘bout we start over... my name is Jah and you are?

A smile lit up Janet’s face, “To you it’s Miss Jackson.”

“Oh word? Does that mean we gon’ get nasty?”

“Come back to my apartment and you’ll see.”

Jahad placed two fifty-dollar bills under the cookie platter, then grabbed her hand, “You don’t have to ask me twice. C’mon, lets blow this joint before Mrs. Harris comes back and hold our ears hostage.”

Emma was on the telephone talking to someone about a church convention and took no notice when they crept by the living room. Jahad closed the door softly, leaving out and headed towards his apartment.

“Where we going? The elevator is the other way.”

“I can’t go to your crib all dusty and shit. I gotta wash my ass and change clothes. I ain’t checked in with my mom’s either.”

“Oh. How about you grab some clothes so we can take a shower together at my place?” She asked with a seductive smile as he opened his apartment door.

“You sure do know how to apologize. Give me a second to grab my gear.”

Before he could close the door, Michelle and Latrice came rushing up the hallway towards him. Michelle smothered him with a hug, “Boy where you been? I called every last hospital and precinct in the city looking for you.”

Jahad shook his head and glanced at Janet, “My moms thinks I’m a criminal too.”

“What you do Jah?” Latrice asked frowning stepping in front of Michelle.

“What you talking ‘bout Trice? I ain’t done nothing.”

“Why is Tony saying he can’t be with me no more then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s tired of you rockin’ that weave,” Jahad laughed, but Latrice didn’t find his joke funny. She swung a wild right at his face that he caught with his left hand and gave her a shove backwards, “You been drinking or something? Ma, you better get her?” He said when she tried to rush him again.

Michelle quickly stepped between them, “Latrice Copeland, if you don’t stop! What’s wrong with you girl?”

Latrice glared at Jahad hostilely, “I know it was you! I know it! Everything was fine before you came home.” She shouted with tears pouring from her eyes, “I don’t get involved with your love life, so stay the fuck out of mine!”

Jahad held her glare, feeling like shit, knowing he was the cause of her pain. Still, when he thought of what was at stake he felt like he made the right decision. “I don’t know what you talking ‘bout Trice. If you and Tone got beef then that’s between ya’ll. I ain’t got nothing to do with it.” He lied, walking off, leaving Janet to fend for herself.

When he entered his bedroom, Koran was laid across his bed with his face buried in a book.

“Where you been?” He asked swinging his feet to the floor, “Ma thought you were locked up.”

“So that’s how ya’ll think of me, huh? I’m just a common crook?”

Koran glanced up from his book grinning, “Nobody said you were a crook. A thug maybe.”

Jahad laughed, his mood lifting. “What you reading?”

“I got a test coming up in Minority Studies …give me some money.”

“I just gave you twenty dollars yesterday lil’ nigga.”

“I copped a fitted with it. The money you give me today is going towards a Sean John sweater to go with the hat.”

“You meant to say, if I give you some money. I tell you what tho’. I’ll cop you the whole Sean John outfit with some sneakers if you make a hundred on that test.”

“That’s a bet,” Koran said quickly, “I’ll make a hundred easy.”

“Oh, it’s easy? Well I gotta better deal for you. Every time you make honor roll, I’ll take you shopping for the fly shit. You’ll get four outfits with the sneakers, but you gotta make all A’s and no B’s.

Koran’s eyes lit up, “A’ight, but I want my shit when I make honor roll.”

Jahad laughed, “You’ll get your shit, just make the grades. Don’t be brining me no bogus ass report cards either. I know how slick your little ass is. Tone told me how you were doing that crazy shit out in front of the Bodega too. If I catch you, it’s on.”

“I got you Jah, it was easy paper tho’. I was killing ‘em out there.”

“You lucky you didn’t get killed. What were you doing with the money anyway?”

“After I hit Ma and Trice off, I’d go shopping. There’s this bad chick at school I’m feeling so I gotta stay fly.” Koran brushed off his shoulder.

Jahad shook his head smiling, “From now on let me worry about you staying fly and keep your grades up. If I see or hear about you doing that dumb shit again, you’ll get nothing but a beat down. I’m serious.”

“A’ight Jah, I said I got you... where you going with your clothes?”

“I got some unfinished business to handle. What you need to be stressin’ is that test.”

“I got the test. When you gon’ take me to get some pussy? That’s part of our deal too.”

“Breathe easy lil’ nigga,” Jahad laughed walking to the door, “I’m a take you to get your little dick wet.”

Walking past the living room on his way to the kitchen, he glimpsed Janet and Latrice talking. He imagined Latrice was pouring salt on his name to get back at him. He didn’t care what skeletons he had in his closet, Janet already knew about them.

Michelle was at the sink washing dishes when he walked in, “Is there any truth to what Trice said?” She asked wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Truth to what?”

“You know what I’m talking about Jahad. Don’t play stupid with me.”

Jahad sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Yeah Ma, I had my reasons tho’. The two of them being together, it won’t work... it’s too close.”

“It was working fine before you came home. What’s the difference now?”

“You don’t understand Ma. Tone is like my brother so to keep any beef from poppin’ off, I asked him to back up. It’ll keep down a lot of confusion.”

“I understand, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to interfere with people’s lives like that. You don’t know how they felt about each other so that wasn’t your choice to make. It was Tony’s and Latrice’s.”

“It ain’t like I made him do it. I asked him so the choice was his.”

“So Trice had no say so in the matter?”

Jahad didn’t answer. Instead he went in his pocket and put three hundred dollars on the table. What was done was done and he saw no reason for discussing it anymore.

“You’re ignoring me now?”

He sighed again, “No Ma, but I did what I felt was best for both of ‘em. Blood is thicker than water, and nobody, friend or not, is gon’ play my sister. I’ll kill a nigga for even trying. So I rather Trice be mad at me for a while, instead of her hating me for life if Tone did something stupid and I ended up killing him. That’s why I said it was too close. Tone and me are too close. It’s best that she dates someone else, so if it goes down I won’t feel bad about it. She might not like it, but that’s the way it’s gon’ be. Pops told me before he died that I was the man of the house and I’m a carry it the way I feel he would carry it. If I’m wrong all I can say is forgive me.” He said with emotions thick in his voice, with no idea that Janet and Latrice were standing behind him.

“Nothing you just said changes the fact that Trice should’ve been there when you had your talk with Tony. Whether you were right or wrong, she should have been included. She probably would have taken it better,” Michelle said looking past him at Latrice.

“I’m sayin’...”

“Yeah, instead of acting like you’re my father, you could’ve mentioned it to me,” Latrice said drawing his attention, “I ain’t a little teenage girl, in fact, if I’m not mistaken I’m older than you, so how can you call yourself being responsible for me anyway?”

Jahad’s face twisted into a snarl, “If you ain’t mistaken? Well, if you ain’t mistaken, after Pops died who in the hell bought your school clothes? And who gave you money to put that weave shit in your head, huh? Who in the hell helped feed your ass?” His voice rose with each question, “Who you use to run to when you had beef, or one of them nothing ass niggas you to use fuck with hurt you... huh? Who spent three years of their fuckin’ life in jail for trying to take care of your ass! Who...”

Michelle grabbed his arm, “Jahad, that’s enough!”

He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “Check it Trice, maybe I went about it the wrong way but you know how I am when it comes to ya’ll man. You also know Tone is like my brother, if he hurt you tho’ I wouldn’t hesitate to... I won’t even say it. So I’m asking you now, will you let it go out of respect for my friendship with Tone... Please?”

Latrice nodded, fighting back tears, then silently walked off.

“See, that’s all you had to do in the first place.”

“I ain’t perfect all the time Ma, just most of the time.” Jahad smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

“You too much boy. Now who’s your friend?”

He placed an arm around Janet’s shoulder, “This is my shorty Janet. Janet this is Ma-Duke.”

“How you doing... Ma-Duke?” Janet said hesitantly.

“It’s Michelle honey, and I’m fine,” she smiled looking at Jahad, “you bring her in here and leave her at the front door. I taught you better manners than that.”

“Yes, that was rude.” Janet added.

“I was trying to get away from Trice before she could beat me up... Ma, I’m a crash at Janet’s crib tonight. And before you start screaming about work, Joe gave me tomorrow off... with pay.”

“And how you accomplish that?”

“A little something I learned being a criminal. And no, I didn’t break no laws. See Ya!”