A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles (12 page)

BOOK: A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles
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Things moved in slow motion for Mama Bev. Mama Bev faded away again with dreams of being by her daughter Aisha’s side when she gave birth to her first child. In her dream, life was as it should be: peaceful, happy, and blessed. She worried about her two adopted daughters, Kayla and Terry. They had been best friends with Aisha since they were kids. Kayla and Terry had become family and Mama Bev loved them as if they were her own. The three girls’ personalities complemented each other perfectly.

Aisha was strong-willed and, at times, stubborn. She often forgot how much inner strength she possessed but her mother never did. Terry was college educated, business-minded, and focused. Terry was sheltered as a child. She learned about the streets through her relationships with Kayla and Aisha. Mama Bev encouraged Terry to strive for success in every facet of life. Kayla grew up on the streets, hustling to survive. Her mother was addicted to drugs and her older brother was serving hard time. Kayla hustled her way to the top of the drug chain before the age of twenty. The streets knew her as Bossy, a hood legend. When she retired from the game, Kayla left her alter ego behind and preferred to be addressed by her given name. It took her loved ones some getting used to but they respected her wishes. Mama Bev knew how hard it was for Kayla to leave the streets. They often talked for hours about the pull the game had on her. Mama Bev would remind her daughter that she was the boss no matter where her lot in life took her.

She could feel herself slipping away. Her head began to spin, causing the visions to fade away as her vital organs began to shut
down. Mama Bev took one last breath, causing her body to tremble.
Lord, forgive me of my sins. Please watch over the girls. Keep them safe and protected. I’m on my way home, Jesus
, she cried. Her prayer is what she left this earth with.

“I know you got a stash up in here. Now, where is it?” yelled Slick. His anger was over the top. His victim was limp, only moving because he was shaking her.

“Hold up, dude,” said Rail. “You gon kill da bitch before we get her to talk.”

“Fuck that, man! This bitch gotta come up off that shit,” panted Slick. He kneeled over his victim, sweating like a pig.

“It’s too late. Your dumb ass already killed the bitch! Look at her man, look at her!” Rail said angrily.

The inexperienced intruders had crossed the line. Killing the home owner took them from thieves to aggravated murderers.

“Fuck! Now what do we do?” asked Rocky. He stood off to the side, trying not to look at the battered body.

“Now we do what the fuck we came here for. We tear this joint up ’til we find the dope and money. It’s here somewhere! Think, where could he have stashed it?” Slick didn’t show it, but he was as scared as his friends were.

They stayed in the house so long the sun began to rise. Slick, Rail, and Rocky collected all the jewelry they found, even prying the rings off Mama Bev’s fingers. Besides the electronics and the gold and diamond jewels, the robbery didn’t give them anything close to what they’d expected. The jewels would net them a small fortune if disposed of properly, but becoming “hood rich” remained a dream.

“Let’s go. We gotta get the fuck up out of here. Let’s go!” demanded Rail, leading the way out.

The light shining through the window landed on a framed picture hanging on the kitchen wall. Slick, Rail, and Rocky all gasped in recognition of the woman in the picture. It had been dark when
they entered her house. None of them had paid any attention to the pictures placed throughout it. They’d have realized from the beginning that they’d made a terrible mistake breaking into the house. Fear and regret took immediate hold of their minds, bodies, and souls. Invading the wrong address was only their first mistake. The second mistake was killing the mother of a hood legend.

Holding On
 

T
hree weeks crawled by at a snail’s pace for Aisha, Kayla, and Terry. The sudden, cruel way Mama Bev had left this earth was proving too much for Aisha. Her weight had dropped eleven pounds. Her hair was becoming brittle, and dark circles had formed under her eyes. Crying had become her only proof of existence. She hadn’t left her mother’s home since the day of the funeral. It seemed impossible not to think about the torture her mother had endured. Aisha blamed herself for not being there when her mother had needed her the most. She had fallen so deep into a depression that her friends worried she might be suicidal, or even worse, homicidal.

Aisha sat in the middle of her bed staring at the program from Mama Bev’s service. She smiled at the thought of all the people that turned out to say their final goodbyes. The caravan behind the family limo had seemed to go on for miles. It really touched Aisha’s heart to see how many lives her mother had touched. Mama Bev’s neighbors had loved and respected her dearly. She was a positive role model who had mentored and assisted every single mother, each wayward child, and any stranger she met in need. She praised the children constantly but was quick to chastise them when warranted.
When she got word of poor behavior or low grades in school, she would step right in and turn the situation around. Even the local gangs and natural-born knuckleheads respected her. No one ever bothered her. That’s what made her murder so hard to understand. No one could make any sense of it.

Tears streamed down Aisha’s face. She had never experienced so much pain in her life. Losing her mother had never crossed her mind until it became a reality. Mama Bev was her hero. Aisha didn’t know what to do without her and thinking about the agony she’d suffered before her death intensified her pain tenfold. Aisha thought her heart would never heal. Without Mama Bev around to guide and counsel her, Aisha was lost. She felt like a little girl as she curled into the fetal position and cried out for her mother. “Oh Mommy!” she sobbed. “Why’d you leave me like that? I should’ve been here for you. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

She had cried herself to sleep and didn’t hear Kayla come into the house. “Aisha! It’s me,” announced Kayla. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Aisha was dreaming that her mother was sitting beside her and they were talking. Mama Bev made Aisha promise not to let her death break her. She tried to remind Aisha that her strength was far greater than her grief and sorrow. Kayla woke Aisha at the wrong time. Her conversation with her mother wasn’t over. Aisha hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.

Aisha dried her eyes and checked the time. It was much later in the day than she’d thought. Kayla and Terry brought her something to eat around the same time every day. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and gasped. It wasn’t like her to let herself go.
Mommy, I know you’re disappointed in me right now. I promise you I’ll pull it together and do better
, thought Aisha.

“Kayla!” yelled Aisha.

“What’s wrong?” asked Kayla. She was startled by Aisha’s yelling.

“I’m getting in the shower. I’ll eat a little later,” said Aisha.

Kayla was happy with the response. Getting Aisha to do anything these days was a battle. Kayla and Terry shared Aisha’s pain. They felt like biological daughters of Mama Bev, especially Kayla. After her brother went to prison and her mother dedicated her life to being a crackhead, Mama Bev took on the responsibility of caring for Kayla. Mama Bev had embraced Kayla and Terry with open arms and never let them go.

Thirty minutes passed before Aisha emerged from the bathroom wrapped in an oversized towel. She found Kayla sitting on the bed thumbing through an old photo album.

“I haven’t thought about life in the jets in years,” said Kayla, smiling.

“Look at our hair! What were we thinking?” Aisha laughed and Kayla joined in.

Life during those days was rough. But looking back, they were also good times.

“Mama Bev beat us all that day,” recalled Kayla as she pointed out a picture of herself, Aisha, and Terry sitting on C-Lok’s ’79 Impala.

C-Lok was Kayla’s first love and business partner. They had formed an unbreakable bond over the years. Mama Bev, Aisha, and Terry loved C-Lok and he felt the same about them.

“How could I forget? She went off on us after she threatened those poor boys with the .22 she carried in her purse, remember?” asked Aisha.

“They ran out of the apartment with the quickness. None of them ever spoke to us again.” Kayla laughed.

The sisters went through the entire album, laughing at all the memories it held.

“Aisha, you know it’s time for you to fight this depression. I don’t want to sound like I don’t care. You know Mama Bev was the only real mother I ever had. She would hold me responsible for
taking care of you. You’ve had time to feel every emotion known to man, and Mama would not want you in this state of mind for so long,” said Kayla.

“You’re right, Kayla, it’s that time. Mommy told me the same thing in a dream I was having when you woke me up. It’s time for me to show that I’m the strong woman she raised me to be.” Aisha walked over to her dresser and grabbed a bottle of lotion. Kayla could see that she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I’m angry. Why would anyone pick this house to break into? Everybody knew Mommy, knows us, hell, and is afraid of you. Anybody beating the streets knew not to do this,” Aisha said.

“Word’s out and the streets will be talking very soon. C-Lok has his people on it,” Kayla said.

“Good. I should have known he’d be on it,” sniffed Aisha.

“He’ll handle things. There’s nothing to worry about. We have to decide what’s going to happen with this house,” Kayla replied, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“What happens when C-Lok finds out who killed Mommy?” Aisha asked.

“Never ask the when, where, how, and especially the who. I taught you that lesson years ago.”

“This is different, Kayla. They tortured my mother, our mother, in her own home. She was beaten and brutally raped. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did. I have to know what will happen when they’re caught,” Aisha explained through her tears.

“Why? What do you want to happen?”

“They should suffer a worse death than the one Mommy went through. Shooting them is a kinder death than they deserve.”

“I have to agree with that,” Kayla replied.

“Will you see if C-Lok will arrange for it to go that way?” asked Aisha with pain and hatred in her heart.

“Yes, I will.”

“I just need one more thing from C-Lok, I’m going to need your help to get it,” began Aisha.

“What is it?”

“I want to be there when it happens. I have to be witness to the slow, painful deaths of the bastards who ripped my heart from my chest. I want revenge,” Aisha cried angrily.

$ $ $

 

On the streets, C-Lok was a ghost, an unseen legend. People knew Cliffton “C-Lok” Boyd’s legacy on the streets. He was head of the drug game and of a family he’d created from nothing. No one made a move without his permission. That included everyone from street soldiers to his queen, Kayla. His workers never saw him. He kept his hands on a buffet of drugs and guns. Many speculated that he’d move away from the impoverished city of Youngstown, Ohio. He was a man of honor, pride, and loyalty. In his mind, he could never abandon the city that had raised him, fed him, and kept him in business.

But now he was stuck. He’d never expected such a request, especially from Aisha.

“Aisha, you can’t think for one minute that I’d permit this. I expected you to ask that whoever did this be tortured or some shit like that. What you’re talking about is that bullshit right there,” said C-Lok.

“Man, she don’t mean that shit. She tripping and grief is a bitch. Kayla, man, you can’t talk to ya girl?” asked Big Black. He was C-Lok’s right-hand man.

“I know exactly what I want to do. Whoever did this shattered my life and left me in pain. My mother was all I had and they stole her from me,” explained Aisha.

While everyone understood where Aisha was coming from, no one thought she really understood what the consequences would
be. This wasn’t the first time such a request had been made of C-Lok. In the other situation, he’d had no qualms or hesitations, but it was a decision that he’d come to regret.

“I gotta make a call, ya’ll. Hold up,” he said. Five minutes later, he returned to the living room and immediately made eye contact with Kayla. Not a word was spoken but much was said. He could see that she wasn’t totally convinced one way or the other, but no matter what Aisha decided, Kayla would have her sister’s back.

An hour later C-Lok was still on the fence. The more time that went by without an answer from him, the more anxious Aisha felt. Just when she was about to ask him the status on finding out who’d killed her mother, the doorbell rang. C-Lok passed the blunt he was toking on to Big Black and went to let his visitors in. The phone call he’d made was to his sister. He knew that if anyone could identify with Aisha, it would be Shy. Years before she’d been in a similar position.

“Hey, baby, how you doing?” C-Lok greeted.

“I’m good,” Shy replied as she kissed her brother’s cheek and gave him a quick hug. “Where is she?”

Everyone greeted Shy when she entered the room. Shy sat next to Aisha.

“C, do you mind if I talk to Aisha alone.” Shy said it as more of a statement than a question. Besides Kayla, Shy was the only other woman on earth for whom C-Lok would lay down his life. Kayla stood up, with the men following suit. After everyone was gone, Shy turned her full attention to Aisha.

“You haven’t returned any of my calls. I’ve been so worried about you. I knew Kayla and Terry were looking out for you, though,” Shy began.

“I didn’t want to bother you. It’s bad enough that Kayla and Terry are going through this with me. You have enough to worry about,” Aisha said.

“My brother told me you need me. He said you want to personally punish the bitches who did this.”

“They don’t understand what I’m feeling. I know they loved my mother, but it’s different for me. She was my world. All my life, she sacrificed her own so I’d have anything and everything. She didn’t have her own life while I was coming up. That’s why I spoiled her when I started making money.” Aisha cried.

BOOK: A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles
10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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