Crackhead

  “Girl, you’re just in time,” Tonette said.

  “In time for what?” Shaunna asked.

  “To see some funny shit,” Tonette giggled. “I just hung up the phone with you-know-who.”

  “Who?” Shaunna said.

  “Who you think, yo?” Tonette said, sucking her teeth and placing her hand on her hip.

  “Word?” Shaunna said, leaning forward. “Did you call her? What did she say? Did she cuss you out?”

  “Listen to this,” Tonette said, sitting down next to Shaunna. “We’re about to take her over to 161st to get some rock.”

  “No way,” Shaunna said in complete disbelief. “You need to cut it out. Don’t you think once is enough? You’re gonna give the girl a fucking habit. You seen what happened to Quita.”

  “Fuck Quita. She did that without our help.”

  “Whatever, you never liked her either. Especially after you found out about her and Dame.”

  Tonette was fuming; she’d never mentioned Quita since their falling-out. Quita had been a major part of the South Bronx Bitches, but they kicked her out two weeks after Laci came into the picture. “This Laci shit ain’t on me,” Tonette protested. “That ho called and asked me to get it for her.”

  Shaunna shook her head in disagreement. “Tonette, I think you’re going a lil’ too far with this shit. I mean, ha ha, joke’s over. We all had a good laugh. The bitch passed initiation or whatever you want to call it. It’s over.”

  “Damn, you starting to sound like Crystal,” Tonette said defensively. “I called her to let her in on what was going down, and she tried to dead me, too. Fuck is everybody so worried about Laci for? I didn’t see anybody taking that woo from her the other night.”

  “Whatever,” Shaunna said.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Tonette said, waving her off as she got up from the couch. “Just bring yo’ ass on so we don’t miss her when she shows up.”

  Reluctantly, Shaunna pulled herself up off the couch and followed the leader.

  BY THE TIME Tonette and Shaunna got to the train station, Laci was already waiting. She still looked like her normal stuck-up self. Her hair was slicked back in a big, curly ponytail and she was wearing a pair of creased Calvin Klein blue jeans with a crisp white shirt. She might have looked like the same Laci on the outside, but Tonette could tell by the way she was acting so antsy and dancing in place that something totally different was going on with her.

  “What up, girl?” Tonette asked with a fake sisterly grin.

  “Hey, girl,” Laci said, hugging her. “What up, Shaunna?”

  “Hey,” Shaunna said flatly.

  Laci peeped Shaunna’s bland-ass greeting and made a mental note of it. Every time she came around, one of them found a reason to have an attitude. It never failed. She was so happy to see Tonette that she didn’t even care. Let Shaunna have her attitude. All Laci was thinking about was chilling and getting her smoke on.

  “So, where to?” Laci asked, getting right to the matter of the meeting.

  “Right to the point, huh?” Shaunna mumbled.

  “Shut up,” Tonette warned her. “It’s only a few blocks from here. Come on, y’all.”

  Tonette led the way. The girls cut into a block that was filled with short tenement buildings. Some were leaning and some had just fallen completely down. People moved up and down the block, trying to hustle this or that. Tonette waved them off and headed directly for the man she was looking for.

  Marvin was an older man who looked like he had seen better days. He sat on the hood of someone’s car, rapping to a cracked-out-looking chick. Tonette made eye contact with him and beckoned him over. “Gimme your money, Laci,” she said, extending her hand. Laci placed five twenties in her palm. “Hold up, y’all,” Tonette said, excusing herself from the two of them. She walked over to Marvin and started speaking.

  Laci looked around the neighborhood, scared to death. She was afraid that someone might spot her and tell her mother. But no one that her mother knew would be caught dead in this part of town. Although Laci hung out with her girls in the hood, she never really chilled hard in some of the shadier parts of town. Being in such proximity to so many addicts made her uneasy.

  Shaunna peeped how noided Laci was acting. She just shook her head. It was obvious what she was becoming.

  “Let’s go, y’all,” Tonette said, walking past her friends.

  “Did you get it?” Laci asked hopefully.

  “Just bring yo’ ass,” Tonette said, continuing her stroll.

  Laci scrambled behind her like a lost puppy. Tonette got a kick out of stringing her along. It made her feel good to be on top for once. Laci had tasted the drug for only a short time, and she was already jonesin’.

  “Let’s hop in a cab,” Laci said, looking around. “I wanna get up outta here.”

  “What’s the matter?” Shaunna teased. “Ain’t got no stomach for the hood?”

  “No, I just wanted to get off this block,” Laci lied. Between all the activity and Laci’s urge to get high, she felt like she was going to go bananas. When the gypsy cab pulled up, Laci was the first one to hop in it.

  Tonette was slick with her shit. When they got in the cab, Laci asked to see what her hundred dollars had bought her. Tonette fed her a bullshit excuse about the area being too hot to pull it out right then. During the ride, Shaunna engaged Laci in conversation while Tonette discreetly rolled the woo. By the time they had reached their destination, Laci was presented with two freshly rolled joints.

  SUNSET IN THE hood meant the streets came alive. Tonette and her crew had been in the same spot for the last couple of hours. Laci sat on the bench higher than high. She was looking off into space and having trouble feeling her tongue. This was the kind of high she had been craving.

  By this time, Monique and Crystal had joined them. When Monique had first walked up on the girls, she immediately knew what time it was. She had seen Laci wear that glazed-over look at Crystal’s house. She looked at the stupid-ass grin Laci was wearing and had to turn her head to keep from laughing in her face. She understood the first time, but how in the hell did they get Laci to smoke for a second time without her figuring out that something was up?

  Laci, being the kind-hearted fool that she was, offered to let Tonette spark one. Tonette told her that she was trying to go for a city job over the summer and didn’t want to piss dirty. Shaunna used the pregnant excuse again, so smoking was out of the question for her. The couple of times that she passed the blunt to Crystal, she was too busy talking and carrying on to realize that Crystal never once hit it and only held it between her fingers. Just like the first time, Laci was on her own.

  The more Laci smoked, the more she fell in love with the drug. Tonette had put more crack in the blunt than weed, but Laci wouldn’t have noticed. All she cared about was sucking in the death mist that had become the object of her affection. Laci had been officially introduced to her monkey.

  The girls pretty much just sat around watching Laci make a fool of herself. The crack had her bugging. First she kept pacing back and forth, talking about how much energy she had. Then the fool started singing The Temptations’ “Cloud Nine” at the top of her lungs. “I’m doing fine . . . up here on Cloud Nine . . . I’m gonna sail up higher . . . up, up and away . . .” Shaunna felt like she was going to go into premature labor tripping off of Laci’s antics.

  “Yo,” Laci said, hopping up for at least the fifth time, “I’m mad hyped. Any other time y’all would be trying to talk me into sneaking into a club or something. But now everybody just wants to sit around and look at each other. We need to do something, anything. Let’s just make a move.”

  “Why don’t you just chill,” Crystal said. She had had enough of Laci. She wished she had just kept her ass at home.

  “Fuck that.” Laci snapped her fingers, continuing to hum the song. “We need to be in the streets, y’all. Why are we wasting the night?”

  “Listen to Action Jackson over here,” Monique
said, sucking her teeth. “You been watching too much BET. Why don’t you sit yo’ high ass down?”

  Laci paused for a moment, getting ready to follow Monique’s orders like she normally would have done, just to keep things down. But a voice inside her told her to rebel. “You know what?” Laci said, putting her hands on her hips. “Fuck you!” Everyone’s jaw dropped. “Every time you come around you bring your bullshit with you. Take that shit home with your tired ass.”

  This was the first time they had ever heard Laci come out of her face. Crack or no crack, Monique was not going to tolerate Laci’s mess.

  “Fuck you say to me?” Monique got to her feet.

  “You heard me,” Laci said defiantly. “You stay coming at me with beef. You need to check yaself, bitch.”

  “Ain’t this a bitch?” Monique said in disbelief. “This ho been sittin’ back taking notes. Well, write this down.” Monique lunged at Laci and grabbed her by her shirt. Laci was caught totally off guard. Monique snuffed her square in the jaw. Laci tried to defend herself, but Monique was a street fighter, while she had never been in a fight. Once they saw blood, Tonette broke it up.

  “Cool the fuck out!” Tonette shouted at Monique.

  “Fuck that,” Monique barked. “I’m tired of this bitch. You ain’t shit, Laci.”

  “Fuck you,” Laci said, patting her lip. “You got some nerve. Low-life bitch, you’re just a bitter.”

  “Low-life? I got ya low-life, you fucking crackhead.”

  The other girls started to become uneasy. Monique’s anger was making her careless with the secret.

  “Bitch, you wish. I could never fuck wit’ that shit. I got too much smarts, unlike your dumb ass. And weed ain’t hard core. Y’all said yourself that it’s a natural herb.”

  “You so green that it’s fucking pitiful,” Monique chuckled. “You think you so muthafuckin’ street, but you ain’t nothing but a prissy bitch. A street bitch would know the difference between crack and weed, dummy.”

  At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop. The leaves on the trees rustled while a basketball bounced unattended somewhere in the distance. Monique’s statement froze the whole crew. Laci looked over at the girls. Shaunna had her head down and was rubbing her belly, and Tonette was looking away.

  Laci closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Wh . . . what?” she stuttered. No one had an answer for her. Tonette shot a murderous stare at Monique, letting her know that she would answer for her dumb-ass move. Shaunna shook her head, and Crystal just turned away. Things were falling apart fast.

  “All y’all do is fuckin’ run y’all’s mouth,” Laci said with a mixture of fury and fear. “Now you mean to tell me that not one of you bitches has shit to say?”

  Laci ran her hands across her eyes and over the crown of her head. Her brain was hurting. She began to pace and panic. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she repeated.

  “Mo is tripping, girl,” Tonette said. “Why the fuck would we give you crack? We’re your fam.”

  “Y’all my family, huh? My fuckin’ fam?” Laci asked, teary-eyed. “Fam doesn’t try to hurt each other, not like the way y’all did me. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to fit in. The way y’all have each other’s back—the unspoken love y’all have for one another . . . that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be a part of. I’ve allowed y’all to do damn near everything but shit on me. Y’all talk about me like a dog in my face. I can only imagine what y’all say about me when I’m not around. Fam?” Laci shook her head as tears poured down her face. “Fam doesn’t try to condemn one another for wanting to be something in life more than just somebody’s baby’s mama or somebody’s bitch. Fuck kinda fam is this?” Laci ran off.

  Tonette sat silently for a moment. “Fuck this. I can’t let the shit go down like this,” she said, blinking the moisture out of her eyes. But it was too late. Laci was out of sight.

  CHAPTER 11

  Callin’ Shots

  WHO THE FUCK is this Titus nigga?”

  As the summer of ’89 neared, Dink had gathered his executive branch together to discuss how they were going to rid themselves of an infringing competitor. “All I keep hearing is Titus this and Titus that. Somebody tell me something.” Dink was raving mad at this point. It took a lot to get him angry these days, but some shit got under his skin like tattoos. “Y’all niggas is out there, right?” Dink continued. “Fuck is going on? Everywhere I turn a nigga is telling me Titus stories, but my boys don’t know shit? Fuck is up?” Dink slid down the window of his Saab 900 Turbo to let in some air. The four bodies in the car were generating heat.

  “Yo, I’m like you,” Marco responded. “I don’t know who the fuck he is. But what I do know is that he’s on one of our blocks gettin’ money. At least that’s the word on the street.”

  Dame didn’t see Titus as the threat everyone else in the car did. He figured that since it was his block the dude was violating, he should be the one stressing. Dame would handle things like he always did—his way. Cracking a chipped-tooth smile, Dame began to speak. “I think y’all overreacting. It ain’t even that serious,” he said nonchalantly.

  Dink looked at Dame as if he had lost his mind. Dame had a bad habit of testing Dink, and now was definitely not the time.

  Dink took out his burner and placed it on the armrest between Marco and himself. “Repeat that.” Dink turned to face Dame in the backseat. “I want to make sure I heard you right.”

  Dame loved a challenge and feared no one. He countered Dink’s attempt to intimidate him by pulling out his own piece, cocking it, and resting it on his lap. “I said it ain’t that serious,” he replied in a daring tone.

  “How the fuck you figure?” Marco spat.

  All eyes were focused on Dame.

  “Because,” he continued, “I seen that nigga around and he ain’t moving nothing major. He small and can be taken out in a second. I ain’t sweatin’ that fool.”

  “Then why you ain’t say that shit when I asked?” Dink said.

  “And where you seen him at?” Smurf added.

  Dame had no respect for the seventeen-year-old gunman and resented the fact that Smurf felt like he was in a position to ask him anything. The lil’ nigga was a nobody to him and didn’t deserve to be answered.

  “Where?” Dink said.

  “Washington Avenue,” Dame said. “Around my way.”

  “Okay, so this is your problem?” Dink said, scratching his chin. “How long has this nigga, Titus, been violating’?”

  “Only a couple of months,” Dame said, picking his nails.

  Dame’s nonchalant demeanor angered Dink. “Two months?” Dink barked. “You got muthafuckas disrespectin’ the hustle for months and you ain’t say nothing? Other cats lookin’ at that like our team ain’t keepin’ it funky. Soon one of them smaller crews is gonna try to climb up the food chain.”

  “Look, man,” Dame said, clapping his hands together. “If I felt the nigga needed to be seen, then it would’ve been done already. That’s my spot. I know what I’m doing, kid. If his hand call for it, then he goes. When I off the muthafucka, niggas gon’ know what the truth is. Right or wrong? Right now he comfortable thinkin’ he movin’ in, but he can always be touched. I got it covered.”

  “Dame, I understand that you do shit different,” Dink said, “but we countin’ on you to keep it tight where you at. Forget about Titus for now. What’s the deal with these bitches you fuckin’ with? They runnin’ their mouths, and niggas tellin’ me shit they ain’t supposed to know.”

  Two years isn’t much time in the game, but Smurf already knew what Dame represented. He was a cancer to their crew. Big-headed niggas like him were always the downfall of the great dynasties. His gut told him that he would be called on to put Dame to sleep sooner or later.

  “Believe me, I got this,” Dame assured Dink. “I’m gonna take care of the big-mouth bitch and some mo’ shit in a hot one. I know just what bitch you talkin’ ’bout, too. Fucking dumb bitch. I told her t
o play her cards right and she would be good, but a fucking bitch is always gonna be a bitch. I was actually kinda digging her, too.”

  “That’s why I always tell y’all to leave them hoes alone,” Dink said. “Dame, you’re either gonna hustle or pimp. You can’t swing both, ’cause it’s fucking up our action.” No sooner than Dink had finished his sentence, two of Dame’s girls walked up to Dink’s parked car.

  “What up, daddy?” Julie said. “No wonder I ain’t seen you. You spending all your time with these cats.” Julie was one of Dame’s best pieces of ass and she got away with just as much as his main girl, Quita.

  “Go wait in my car,” Dame said to her flatly.

  “Hey, Dame,” Naomi said, licking her lips. She usually stayed quiet, but the sight of Marco had her talkative. “Your friend lookin’ for a date?”

  “Yo, Dame,” Marco said. “Get your bitch before you be pickin’ her up off the floor.”

  Dame smiled. “Talk to her, nigga. It ain’t gon’ cost you nothin’.”

  “Yeah, what you afraid of?” Naomi asked. “Don’t tell me that you scared of little ol’ me, big man,” she crooned in her white thigh-high boots and skin-tight tube dress that was so short her pussy hairs were damn near showing.

  “Shoot, scared of what?” Marco said, shooing her away. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll blow your little back out.”

  Smurf sat in the backseat confused, watching Marco turn down what he thought was a nice piece of tail—and free at that. “Sh-e-e-e-i-t. If that was me, I’d know what to do,” Smurf said. “She wouldn’t have to say that shit twice.”

  Dame began to chuckle. “Yo, even lil’ man back here ready to do the do,” he said. “You supposed to lead the younger niggas by example. You ain’t showing him shit, Marco.”

  “C’mon, big boy,” Naomi begged. “Take me somewhere. I like you.” Naomi ran her hand alongside Marco’s cheek. “I’m clean, and I know this pussy is good. C’mon, baby. I ain’t had no good dick in a while. Show me somethin’.”