Authors: Silhouettes
Street Soldier 2 (7 page)
Nate waved his hand in front of my face. “Wake up,” he said. “Are you there?”
I blinked and wiped my tired eyes. “Yeah, I'm here. Just thinkin' about some stuff, that's all.”
He squeezed my shoulder and patted me twice on the back. “Don't be so serious all the time. You're still young, Prince, and you need to enjoy life. Have some fun. Leave what has happened to you in the past. If I hung on to all that's happened to me, I would be one sick motherfucka.”
“Nate, why haven't you moved on and done somethin' different? I know that workin' at a liquor store ain't the limit of your dreams, is it? I mean, you seem like a smart man who is capable of doin' anything you want to.”
Nate took the last bite of his hotdog, then squeezed the wrapper in his hand. “I had big dreams, like you did in high school. Got a basketball scholarship and my first year in college I fucked up. Started partying all the time, hangin' out with my friends and fuckin' any and everything in sight. Got caught up one day with some friends who decided to jump on this brotha who hollered at his girlfriend. I sat in the car while they beat that Negro's ass, and when all was said and done, he died. They hit me up with a manslaughter charge and the life that I had known was over. I got twenty-five years, just like that, over a bitch that wasn't even mine. That's why you must watch the company you keep and know who your friends are, more than you know your enemies. Since then, I just live day-by-day, appreciatin' my freedom and knowin' that things could have been a lot worse. I'm too old to talk about startin' over, but you have your whole life ahead of you. Make wise decisions, and your life will go a long way.”
“I couldn't agree with you more, and havin' your mind all wrapped around women can sholl fuck up some things. That's why I keep my distance. I've seen too many niggas fuck they lives up over some pussy.”
Nate laughed while eyeing several more women who walked by. “It's a powerful thing,” he said. “And even though there are some straight nutcrackers out there, you will find some women who will genuinely have your back. While in prison, I saw some women straight holdin' it down for their men, no matter what. The gal I was with moved the fuck on after two months. I haven't heard from her since. I didn't expect her to remain loyal to me, but after four years together, one simple letter would have suited me just fine. I got nothin'.”
I couldn't help but think about Romeo and all that he was going through. His and Nate's situations sounded so similar. I was so sure that plenty of other brothas in prison could tell the same story. Wrong place, wrong friends, wrong time. “How ... how was it in prison, Nate? Is everything they say about it really true? I mean, I know it ain't no picnic, but is it as bad as many people make it out to be?”
Nate looked me straight in my eyes. “You don't really know, unless you've been there. And trust me when I say it is no place that any man on this earth would want to be, especially young men. Everything that you hear is true; then there comes a side that many of us rather not tell. It's horrible, Prince, and I wouldn't wish prison life on my worst damn enemy. I'll leave it there.”
I guess that was the first time anyone had ever put it out there like that for me, and I understood why Romeo never wanted to discuss what was going on with him, nor the specifics. I put the thoughts to the back of my mind, and that was easy to do when I saw Poetry walking down the street with a freckle-faced dude next to her. He seemed much older than she was and had on some nerdy-ass glasses. His cap was pulled down on his head, almost covering his eyes. They both were eating ice cream and she looked giddy as ever as they talked. I had to go fuck with her, only because she'd been fucking with me.
“I'll be right back,” I said to Nate as I hurried down the steps to catch up with Poetry and her man. When I did, I crept up from behind and tapped her shoulder. “Ay,” I said, causing her to quickly turn around. “Don't I know you from somewhere?”
She looked at the brotha next to her, then shrugged her shoulder. “No, I don't think so. You don't look familiar to me, so I think you may have the wrong person.”
“I don't think so, because there couldn't be another chick on this planet as fine as you are. Your name is Poetry, right?”
The dude she was with folded his arms and looked at Poetry, who seemed tongue-tied. “That's my name, but I don't know you, all right? Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my walk.”
“Sure.” I smiled. “Go right ahead. I just happened to find your phone number you gave me the other day, and I had hoped to call you real soon. But if you're kickin' it with ol' boy, then I don't want to waste my time.”
This time, the brotha she was with sighed. “Can we go now?” he said. “I want to find somewhere close to sit.”
“Yes, we must do so,” she said to the brotha, then looked at me and cut her eyes before walking off.
I chuckled, thinking what a joke some women were. There she was pursuing the hell out of me when all along she had a man. I guess he wasn't fulfilling her needs, and any man who put up with that mouth of hers was courageous.
I went back to where Nate was and we talked to each other until the fireworks got started. The Arch grounds had gotten even more crowded and police were everywhere, trying to make sure everything stayed in order. They could only do so much, and as soon as the eardrum-busting fireworks were over, two fights broke out. One was a group of white boys who had gotten drunk and started calling each other names, and the other was a group of girls who were pulling each other's hair out. As we moved with the crowd, that's when we saw a group of black men starting to yell at each other. Too bad the man next to us referred to them as niggers, and after all of the advice Nate had given me, he almost lost it.
“What in the fuck did you just say?” Nate said to the elderly white man who seemed shaken by the pitch of Nate's voice, as well as his intimidating look.
The man lowered his head and tried to abruptly walk away, but couldn't because the crowd wasn't moving fast enough.
“You dumbass fool,” Nate shouted, walking so close to the man that he was stepping on the back of his shoes. “You down here with all these people and let somethin' that ignorant slip from your mouth. I should beat yo' ass for bein' so stupid!”
“Leave that old man alone,” another man shouted.
Nate's fist tightened and I had to grab his arm to stop him from landing it somewhere. “Nate!” I said. “Chill! Damn, man, you down here preachin' to me about doin' the right thing and you gon' get our asses locked up. 'Cause you know if you swing, I'm swinging too.”
Nate listened to me, but continued to give evil stares at both of the men. They looked scared as hell, and when they were out of our sights, that's when we started to pick up our pace. The Metrolink line was long as hell, but since they had so many of them running, we suspected it wouldn't take too long. We stood waiting, but Nate was still hyped.
“Ol' silly-ass motherfuckas,” he ranted. “They need to keep that nigger shit in their homes, where most of them use that shit freely and around their kids. That's why this world so fucked up now, and this racism shit ain't never gon' be put to rest.”
I agreed, but I didn't respond because it would only get him fired up. There were already plenty of police officers hanging around, and being in the back of a police car tonight was not my ambition. That thought did change when I spotted Poetry and her man coming my way. She came right up to me and put her arms on my shoulders. She leaned in, forcing her tongue inside of my mouth. The taste of her lips were so sweet, I didn't dare back away. Plus, I wanted to make her man mad, and her boldness impressed me. I figured he was going to start throwing blows, and a kiss that good may have been worth a li'l jail time tonight. Poetry backed away, leaving me stunned as hell.
“I figured you may have wanted to see more fireworks tonight and I hope you did. And if you still have my number, as you say, then use it.”
She removed her arms from my shoulders while I stood there in a trance. I couldn't even think fast enough, but when her boyfriend stepped forward, my reflexes jumped. “This is my play brother, Trevon,” Poetry said. “You thought you had me, but not quite.”
Her play brother spoke and the two of them walked away. Nate cocked his head back. “What was that all about? Did you know her?”
“Somewhat,” I said, thinking about what Poetry had done. Hell yeah, I liked her, but was fighting everything inside of me not to.
“Are you saying that you âsomewhat' let a gal kiss on you who you barely knew? Shit, I wish I had a woman step up to me and kiss me like that without knowin' me. That would make any man feel good.”
The lady in front of us joked with Nate about giving him a kiss and their conversation led from one thing to another. They exchanged phone numbers and all of his attention had turned to her. That was a good thing, because all of mine had turned to Poetry. I kept watching my back, hoping that she would walk up and put another one on me. I didn't see her, but I was so sure she'd be visiting the laundromat soon. This time, I'd have my shit together.
Chapter Five
Man Down, Street Soldier Up
Still hadn't heard from Mamaâyet. Another week had gone by, and I was really starting to get worried. When I called her house phone Raylo answered one time, saying that he hadn't heard from her either. After that one time, no one had been answering at all. I tried her cell phone when I got up this morning, only to hear that it had been disconnected. That prompted me to go over to her house, and as I stood in her bedroom, looking around, there appeared to be no sign of her. Raylo wasn't there, so I called his cell phone to see if he could tell me anything other than he didn't know where she was.
“Prince, you know how yo' damn mama is. She got mad at me that night and jetted. Threatened to never come back, but I didn't believe her. She'll be back, though. Just give her some time. It's all we can do right now, and even though I'm worried, I know she's somewhere safe.”
“Somewhere safe like where, though? And did y'all just argue that night or did y'all have a fight? I talked to her the day before, and she sounded like everything was cool. She told me to bring her some cigarettes. I can't believe she's been gone since then.”
“I can. We didn't have no fight, just an argument. She wanted me to go out and get her some cigarettes too, but I was tired that night. She started cursin' me out, and I told her to go fuck herself. Next thing I knew, she grabbed some of her shit and told me she would be back whenever.”
I sighed, not knowing whether to believe Raylo. Mama was so good at doing shit like this, but something wasn't right this time. “Did she say anything about me? Or what to tell me if I called?”
“She was fussin' about you not bringin' her those cigarettes, and said if you called to tell you she'd get at you some other time. That's it, Prince. I don't know what else to tell you. As soon as she calls me, I'll let you know. Right now, I gotta get back to my game. I'm at the pool hall and the fellas are waitin' on me to take my shot.”
Raylo hung up, but I wasn't satisfied with what he'd said. I went next door to the neighbors, asking if they'd seen Mama or if they'd heard anything. Mr. Brown was an old-ass man who lived next door. We didn't get along, nor did he and Mama. But he was nosy, and if anybody saw anything going wrong in the neighborhood, it would be him. He was watering his grass, or should I say mud, trying to get some grass to grow.
“Say, Mr. Brown,” I said, stepping up to him. “I'm lookin' for my mama. Have you seen her around lately?”
“I ... I think I saw her outside a few days ago. She was with another young lady. They got in a car and left.”
“Had you seen the woman before? And what kind of car did they get into?”
Mr. Brown paused before answering. “I think it was one of those fast cars. Camaro or something like that.”
I pointed to my car. “Like that one? Was it like that one?”
He scratched his head while looking at my car. “Yeah, that's it. It was that one, because I remember that thing hanging from the rearview mirror.”
I thanked Mr. Brown, realizing that he didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. Mama didn't know anybody who drove a car like mine, and as far as I knew, none of her friends had a Camaro. I went to another neighbor's house. Her name was Pat, and even though she wasn't old as Mr. Brown was, her ass was on drugs. She was always outside, trying to see if she could hook up something. She was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette when I walked up to her.
“Ay, Pat. Have you seen my mama around here lately?”
Pat blew smoke in the air, then crossed her skinny and frail legs. “Nah, I ain't seen her. But I've heard that big mouth of hers. She know she got a big-ass mouth and she be over there cussing yo' daddy's ass out.”
“That nigga Raylo ain't my daddy. When's the last time you heard her yellin'?”
Pat sat for a moment, looking to be in thought. “Shit, Prince, I ... I don't know. A week ago ... maybe two. I haven't seen her in several days, though, and she often stops by to get some cigarettes from me. It's been a minute.”
“You say a week or two, but have you seen her this week at all?”
“Naw. But if you see her before I do, please tell her to bring me my twenty dollars she owes me. Maybe that's why she ain't been comin' around. You know how people get when they owe you money. They ass get ghost.” She laughed, and quite frankly, I agreed. I thanked Pat for the unhelpful info, and started to walk away.
“Prince,” she said. I turned around, showing a bit of frustration on my face. “You lookin' good as hell. Never knew you'd grow up and become such a sexy-ass young man, and if you ever want to get somethin' goin', let me know. I'm all yours. Tell Raylo to come see me, too. I need to get some of that, and he'll know what I'm talkin' about.”
I wanted to tell her not to do me any favors, but all I did was smile and kept on walking. I didn't do crackheads, and even though Pat wasn't a bad-looking woman, those drugs had her looking as if she were fifty instead of thirty-five. I went back inside of Mama's house, hoping that she did leave with one of her friends a few days ago like Mr. Brown had said.
I stopped to use the bathroom, then went back into Mama's bedroom to look around. I pulled back her thick comforter on her bed and moved her pillows around. I opened her dresser drawers, trying to find any clues as to where she had gone. I even checked the phone, flipping through the numbers on the caller ID and writing down some of the numbers so I could call them later. I came up empty in her room, then, just for the hell of it, I checked mine. Like the last time, nothing was out of place and my room still looked the same. I closed the door and went into the kitchen, checking the drawers, cabinets, and closet. Nothing jumped out at me, so I plopped down at the kitchen table. I rubbed my tired eyes, then turned the cap on my head backward.
“Damn, Mama, where are you?” I said out loud. “Shit!”
Everything in my gut was saying that something was wrong. My eyes shifted around the room, and that's when I noticed a knife was missing from a knife set that had always sat on the counter. The only reason it jumped out at me was because Mama had pulled that knife out on me and Raylo plenty of times before. It was like her best friend, and she used it for protection whenever she got mad. Even when she was drunk and tripping, she'd always go for her knife and threaten to stab somebody with it. I got up from the table, looking everywhere that I could in the kitchen to find that knife. And nearly thirty minutes later, all I found, or should I say saw, was a dried bloodstain on her kitchen curtain. I held the curtain, trying to think if I remembered the stain being there. I hated to play detective, and even though I wanted to call the police to report her missing, I didn't want no shit. They'd start questioning me about other things and I wasn't about to set myself up like that. So, so far, I had the missing knife, the bloodstained curtain, and nothing else. That was, until I went into the living room and found something else. A handful of Mama's hair was by the couch. She hardly evercut her own hair, and if it was cut, she went to the beauty shop to have it done. I suspected it didn't fall out in a patch like the one I had in my hand, as this was odd. The way I looked at it, it was time for me to go confront Raylo man-to-man, because he obviously knew more than what he was saying.
I zoomed down Interstate 70, making my way to the pool hall that he frequented on Cass Avenue. I saw his Cadillac parked outside with several other raggedy-ass cars. I pulled the red double doors open and was hit with a song by Chuck Berry. The lighting was so dim I could barely see, but when I moved the hanging beads aside that draped beyond the arch-shaped doorway, that's when I saw Raylo and several of his partners playing pool. Raylo was sitting on a stool with a Hershey's Chocolate chick all over him. He was all smiles until he saw me coming his way. He couldn't care less that he'd been caught cheating on Mama, and for years he had made it known that he wasn't a one-woman man.
I stepped up to him, blocking his view from the pool table. “Questions,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “Why is my mama's knife in the kitchen missin'? Why is there blood on her kitchen curtains? And how in the hell did she lose this much hair?”
I held the patch of hair in my hand, just so he could see it. He removed the dangling toothpick from his mouth and sucked his teeth. Before saying anything to me, he turned to the woman next to him.
“Bitch, move. I need to get at this young punk about disrespectin' me and I don't want you to get hurt.”
The woman gave him a kiss on the cheek before strolling away in a tight-ass dress that hugged nothing but rolls of fat. Her stench wasn't nothing to play with, either. How dare this sucker disrespect my mama with such trash? That made me even madder.
“Now, I'ma give you every opportunity to come at me again like you got some sense, young blood. If you don't, I will have to show you some of that shit I've been showin' yo' mama over the years. Maybe you will live and learn like she has; then again, maybe not. The choice is yours, and to quickly answer your question, nigga, I haven't seen yo' damn mama. I don't know nothin' about nothin' and that's all I'm goin' to say.”
“Ray,” one of his friends yelled. “You all right?”
“Ain't nothin' I can't handle, Fred. Y'all go'n ahead and finish the game.”
I knew Raylo would say some shit to piss me off, and I also figured I would find myself in a fucked-up situation today. That didn't bother me one bit, only because, this time, I came prepared. “I ain't got no beef with you, Raylo. All I want to know is where in the fuck is my mama? You say you don't know, but I don't believe you. I need to know what's up, right now. I'm not goin' anywhere until I find out. If you want to throw another one of your weak-ass punches, feel free. Just know that I'll be back every damn day to question you about my mama until she shows up, or until I find her. So what's it gon' be?”
Raylo licked his crusty, thick lips, pressing them together. He stood and pulled up his pants, trying to intimidate me. He would always do that every time he got ready to put his hands on Mama. But when he looked down, he saw the tip of my Glock poking through my shirt. My hand was already on it.
“Let me repeat myself, before shit get out of hand and people start havin' regrets,” he said. “As soon as I hear from yo' mama, I will call you. I can't explain no missin' knife, nor any bloodstains on curtains that have been hangin' for the past ten-plus years. Now, if you don't want to be staggerin' out of here with bullet holes riddled in you, I suggest you take this up with me later on yo' turf, not mine.”
His eyes shifted behind him. I turned around, only to see about six of Raylo's partners with their guns aimed directly at me. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, and taking out Raylo right now didn't seem like the sensible thing to do. I put my cap on straight, lowering it a bit to cover my eyes. “You'd better hope she shows up. Make some calls, drive around ... do whatever you have to do to find her,” I said. “Time will eventually run out for you, Raylo, and one day it's gon' come down to just you and me.”
I turned, cutting my eyes at his partners who mean mugged me and showed no fear whatsoever behind my threats. All I could hear was Raylo laughing, and, as my back was turned, one of his partners came up from behind and put a gun to the back of my head. Yeah, I was scared, but didn't let it show as he pushed me outside and slung me to the ground. He was every bit of 250 pounds, and when it came to going to blows with niggas that big, I opted to go for the legs. I charged at him, grabbing his legs and knocking him to the ground. His gun flipped out of his hand and he started pounding my back with his fist.
“Who, the, fuck, you, think, you, are,” he said with each pound. “Li'l nigga, I will kill yo' ass!”
I tightened my body, trying not to feel the hard blows as we punched and tussled our way to the side of the building. I was straight up out of breath fighting with this dude, but I kept elbowing him in his midsection and pushing him against the brick-wall building. I had hoped to knock the breath out of him so I could somehow get at my Glock, which was still tucked into my jeans. But before I knew it, that fool had me in a headlock.
“Now what?” he said, twisting my head tight, trying his damnedest to break my neck. My ears felt as if they were being ripped from my head, but I kept elbowing the man as hard as I could in his stomach. I was trying to reach my gun while bent over, but my hands were so slippery that I couldn't quite get a grip. And as hard as this fool was squeezing my head, I knew that I only had a matter of seconds before he broke my damn neck. Finally, I was able to remove my gun from my jeans, and I wasted no time blasting that fool in his leg. Immediately, he let go of me and staggered backward to the building. His face was scrunched while he squeezed his leg, attempting to stop the gushing blood.
I cocked the gun sideways, aiming it directly at his head. “Now, see what yo' ass get? You had to be the brave one, but look at your sorry ass now.”
“We ... we good,” he said in a panic. “I ... I wasn't gon' hurt you, man. Just tryin' to teach you a lesson, that's all.”
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