Life Without Hope (21 page)

not read his stoic expression, but I will never forget it. I saw infu-

sions of something in his eyes, like a boy not really sure of his

manhood. I watched his demeanor because a woman needs the

complete suppor t of a man, not a boy unsure of himself. Then he

grinned at me and that grin said I had fallen victim to his game. I

wanted to slap that silly grin off his face. He smiled and had the

nerve to try to hug me.

“
Hope, we’re having a bay-bee,” he lullabied happily. I shoved

him away from me.

“
We ain’t having shit!” I snorted.

I saw something wash over his face, something between hurt

and dejection. Marcus got down on one knee. “Hope, please don’t

kill my baby … our baby,” he said somberly as he wrapped his

arms around me pressing his face tightly against my stomach. I

tried to peel him off of me but he clung to me for dear life. He

dug into my resistance with his poignant pleading, “Hope, please

don’t kill the baby. I’ll take care of it and support you while you

go to law school. I have enough money saved up for a home, at

least a nice down payment, plus I have nine acres of land.”

“
You do?” I asked dumbfounded as my mind changed lanes

on a highway of life’s young indecisions fueled by a new impetus

to survive, the life that I now bore within me and a woman’s intu-

itive instincts for her baby.

“
Hope! Please! Please! Marr y me,” Marcus said sentimentally.

It’s amazing all the damage a penis full of semen can do. OK, I

can’t lie, Marcus’ financial status along with an unexpected baby

played a big factor in my decision to marry him.

*****

A month later, using Marcus’ family’s money, I had a big

African-style wedding. Nandi designed all the clothes. My sorori-

ty sisters, the Deltas, were my bridesmaids. We had a ball. Even

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though none of Marcus’ family came except his querulous-ass

mother, she could have stayed home. It seemed like nothing I did

was right for her and the old bat made no secret about her con-

tempt for me. And to make matters worse, my father arrived with

his young girlfriend. He was dead drunk and embarrassed the hell

out of me. However, for the first time in my young life, I had some

semblance of happiness. About eight months later I gave birth to

a healthy six-pound baby boy. It was the most painful experience

of my entire life. It felt like I had shitted out a bowling ball. It was

Nandi’s dumb-ass idea to have a natural birth. Hello! Girlfriend

might be taking this Afrocentric thing too damned far.

Lawd have mercy, when the nurse pulled the covers back

showing my son, Marcus Jr., I damn near fainted. The baby was

dark as coal with a head full of hair, with them little beady eyes

just like his father. I was going to have a lot of explaining to do. I

had just given birth to another man’s child. There was no doubt in

my mind who the real father was. The thug, Life Thugstin, was a

father and didn’t even know it. The next time I would hear of him

would be in a crowded cour troom where I would be a prosecutor

and he would be on trial fighting for his life.

*****

100

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“
All in the Name of the Game”

–
Life –

Nightfall. I crept into Frenchtown on a real mission to find Nina

Brown. I needed to talk to her. If she knew where Trina was I was

going to force her to tell me.

I wore dark blue Dickies with a matching shirt and black

Timberland boots. I had my best friend, Jesus, tucked safely in the

small of my back.

Strategically, I entered from a back street not wanting to risk

detection. The streets were clogged with traffic. I heard a gun shot

up ahead. I stood in the shadow and watched. This place was like

the Wild Wild West. A fight or something broke out up ahead in

the pool hall. That’s when I spotted Nina Brown. She had on the

same clothes. I walked right up to her and tried to blend in with

all the commotion. I made a crucial mistake. Hustlers always rec-

ognized new faces. That’s part of their business. Nina Brown

looked up at me horrified.

“
Boy, what you doin’ huh? You crazy, that’s lil Stevey D over

there. They been lookin’ all over for you. They just jumped on a

boy from Miami, damn near kilt him, took his dope and his car.”

As on second thought, she squinted at me, pulled my shir t.

“
You shot that boy so many times, almost kilt him too, and

where is my dope you promised me nigga?”

“
I gottcha.” I handed her the hundred-dollar bill I had for her.

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“
Where is Trina at?” I asked.

Nina Brown was not paying me the least bit of attention, as

nervously she looked up the street to a money green Chevy doing

the smooth creep in our direction. She danced her eyebrows, a

warning. Four or five dudes were headed our way and they walked

with a purpose. They had my full attention. Nina whispered that

it was Stevey D and his henchmen. When I saw the little runt with

them I knew that I was busted. “That’s him,” she said pointing at

me, just as niggas in the Chevy piled out four deep. One thing I

can say about Nina Brown, she stood her ground. I noticed one of

the cats that got out of the Chevy ducked down. I couldn’t see

where he was, shit was happening so fast, my mind raced to keep

up.

“
Watch the Chevy to your right, watch the four men going up

on you to your left.” Quickly, I decided Stevey D was not the real

threat. I needed to keep my eye on the possible shooter hiding

behind the car.

“
Nigga you jacked my man,” Stevey D said pulling out his

strap at exactly the same time I pulled out Jesus, cocked it and

carefully aimed it at his chest. Shock registered in his face, I saw it

in his eyes. I walked out into the streets in order to see where the

shooter was. I saw him squatting down with a gun in his hand.

When he saw me he stood. The other three cats were gingerly

walking toward me.

“
Yo, my nigga. I ain’t jack nobody! That chicken head bitch

lying,” I said looking back and forth.

One thing about power, whether it be the United States Army

or an army of thugs embattled in urban warfare, power will only

acknowledge counter power, and thus, gangsters are born. I posi-

tioned myself between two cars, gun still level at Stevey D, and

prepared for a blood bath. Kill or be killed. This had all the ingre-

dients for murder and I honestly had no intention of dying alone.

I was out-numbered about nine to one.

“
Nigga you got a lot of balls coming in here. You could get

fucked up. Lose your life,” Stevey D threatened.

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“
Look playa, I ain’t lookin for no drama,” I said respectfully,

but my body language made it perfectly clear I was prepared to

throw some hot balls with Jesus.

“
Want me to shoot dat nigga?” I heard someone say with

courage that they did not feel, or else they would have shot with-

out asking permission.

“
Naw,” Stevey D said, raising his hand as they inched closer

trying to surround me. Shit was starting to get out of hand like I

was going to have to fire a shot.

“
Look man, lemme talk wit you,” Stevey D said, inching clos-

er.

“
I ain’t tryin to rap right now,” I said easing backward. Them

niggas wanted to pounce on me like a pack of wolves.

“
Yo, your name Stevey D?” I asked, tr ying to keep the fear out

my voice. He did not answer. “I’ma break bread witcha.”

My voice was a plea bargin that hung in the air, as the seconds

of my life tucked in the crevice of my mind. Any moment I was

expecting shots to ring out.

“
In a few days I’ma come back and give you something to

make money off of,” I said, as I eased into the streets, my gun still

leveled at his chest. A car came screeching to a halt nearly missing

me. Nina Brown watched me intensely, eyes glazed with suspense.

Ghetto chicks see this kind of stuff all their lives, gunplay, killed

or be killed. I was just trying to stay alive the only way I knew

how, keeping it gangsta!

I continued to walk backward, gun pointed at Stevey D. The

silent message was if I was going to die, I fully intended to take

someone with me. Once I felt that I was at a safe distance, I took

off into a trot. They did not pursue me, and if they did, I took so

many shor tcuts and back ways they would have needed blood-

hounds to keep up with me.

*****

The next morning I sat by the pool in one of them uncom-

fortable-ass chairs, smoking a cigarette, thinking about Trina

touching me for my stash and what I was going to do with her ass

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if I ever caught her. The whole time I was watching white folks

like a hungry lion tr ying to get close to his prey. I was just trying

to pick one to rob. I was on my dick doing bad. After paying two

hundred for rent, and giving Nina Brown the hundred-dollar bill,

I had less than two hundred dollars to my name.

I took a sip of the beer that I bought earlier at the poolside bar.

It was hot, the sun was sweltering. I had my T-shirt wrapped

around my head. I looked up into the blaring sunlight to see two

gorgeous sistas strolling poolside headed straight for me. I thought

I was seeing a mirage. One was wearing a leopard skin two-piece

thong bathing suit. Her body was sleek, wide hips, nice ass, point-

ed breasts, full with erect nipples, the kind that make men drib-

ble.

I was sitting straight up in my seat now. Her friend was just as

fine. She wore a stunning white french cut one-piece bathing suit.

It showed everything including her coochie lips and they were fat

to death, and I stared wondering if all that was her down there.

The symmetr y of her body was God’s gift to a Black woman.

Together the two women seemed to put on a show as the entire

pool quieted. The one with the leopard skin suit looked just like

Lisa Raye, sophisticated and sexy. I noticed that they were holding

hands, then it dawned on me that they might be lovers, a lesbian

couple, as they sashayed right up to me. This was the one moment

in my life I was happy to be a Black man. The one with the leop-

ard skin suit asked if they could sit next to me in the vacant chair.

I looked up into the glaring sun between her legs; the gap in

between her thighs caused an eclipse of the sun, all that hair run-

ning down her thighs. Thank God for lesbians! To this day I do

not know why women shave down there. If Black women only

knew how sexy it looked to brothas.