Читать книгу It Is What It Is - Montez Jordan - Страница 5

For the past few years, Baltimore had been rebuilding the downtown part of the city to make it a more popular tourist attraction. A lot of the historical buildings and areas were being renovated just for that purpose. Lexington Market was among the sites that were under construction. Although they redid the outside, a step through the doors proved everything inside was the same. It was still a hangout for dope fiends and ex-dope fiends, alcoholics, homeless people and other undesirables that the city didn’t want on display. The market’s legendary food was still up to par, so lots of people who worked in the neighborhood went there for lunch.

Cho parked his black 2003 Honda Accord coupe in the outside parking lot next to Radi’s car. Radi drove a silver 2000 Cadillac DeVille. It had black leather interior and gleaming 22-inch rims. Cho had black leather interior as well, but he stuck with the factory rims.

He entered the market through the side door, and walked up the steps to see if Radi was sitting at one of the tables eating.

As he got to the top of the steps, a small-framed woman approached saying, “Percs and Oxys! Baby whatchu need?” Cho looked at her like she was crazy. Before he could respond, an older man directly behind him spoke. “Do you have some met?”

The woman nodded. “Excuse me sugar, wit your cute self.” She grinned at Cho with most of her teeth missing.

Cho just smiled and continued his search for Radi. He wasn’t upstairs. Cho looked over the railing down to the marketplace. The typical mayhem was bustling everywhere. He managed to spot Radi getting a cup of lemonade at Pretzel Time and went down to join him.

“A yo! Get me one too. I’ma go get me a sandwich from Mary Mervis.” Radi nodded back. Cho went and got a shrimp salad sandwich, a bag of chips and four chicken wings. By the time he returned to the eatery upstairs, Radi was already seated.

“What you get?”

“Same shit you got.” They began their meal.

“What took you so long?” Radi asked while biting into his sandwich.

“I was fucking.”

“Who?”

“Sheila.”

Radi started laughing. “Your wife?”

“That ain’t my wife!”

“Whatever!”

Radi always called Sheila Cho’s wife. He knew better, but that was his way of getting on Cho for riding his back about Tiff.

“Nigga, just ‘cause you married don’t mean that I have to be. It’s too many bitches out here, and I rather do me than get caught up again. Besides, you all in love and faithful and shit. I got to fuck for the both of us. You know you washed up.” Radi became quiet and took a bite into his chicken wing. His plan had backfired. He quickly changed the subject as he broke his chicken wing apart. He was curious to know about the shop that Cho’s cousin Randy had just opened.

“What’s up wit your cousin and them? How that shit lookin’?”

“It’s chill for right now. I haven’t talked to him today but I think once the word gets out, he should be good for at least 10. What’s up with your boys?”

Radi grunted. “That’s what I wanted to holla at you about. Knockers ran up in Ms. Cindy’s house this morning. Tato hit the window and was able to get the gun and whatever packs he could get out of there. Lor Shan and Cupcake got caught though. I have to link up with Tato to see what all they found, but it couldn’t have been much if he said he got away with some shit.”

Cho shook his head. These things happened all the time. It was a part of the game. The more money they made, the more losses they took. It was normal. “Where was Ms. Cindy?” he asked.

“Yo said she had nodded out over her girlfriend’s house and hadn’t been home.” “What’s their bails?”

“Like I said, I have to holla at yo. As slow as the bookings is, I doubt if they got processed yet. I should know something by later. Everything else is cool,” he said, still feeding his face.

“You talk to Pimp yet?”

“Naw. Matter of fact, let me hit yo right now.” Radi wiped the chicken grease from his fingers and grabbed his cell phone. He dialed Pimp’s number as Cho looked on, still eating his food. The phone rang twice before Pimp answered, “What’s up my nig?”

“Ain’t shit, chillin, chillin. I’m on the underpath coming from up the Village. Where you at?”

“Me and Cho down the market.”

“Aight. I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up before anyone had a chance to reply.

Cho and Radi sat in silence until they finished their food. Cho had a puzzling look on his face. “A yo. I hope Ol’ Head can keep that shit.”

“I know,” Radi replied. “That shit is a monster. Fiends say they ain’t had no smack like that in years. Tato said two bitches went out on that shit just the other day. That’s probably why it’s so hot down there.”

As soon as he finished his statement, Pimp walked up. A much taller version of his fallen brother, the major difference in his look was the close-cut Caeser and Bin Laden goatee he wore, along with five-carat studs in each ear. He was always being mistaken for a professional basketball player. That assumption might have been right if he hadn’t chosen the block over books. Swervo and Pimp had come up playing basketball for Bentalou Rec. Pimp made a name for himself and was recruited to play for Towson Catholic High School. Alongside Carmelo Anthony, they dominated the Catholic league. But when Melo left to play in Virginia, Pimp decided to get money like his brother.

Swervo was upset and wouldn’t put Pimp on. So he went out on his own and started hustling in Edmonson Village with some homeboys. After he got knocked off a few times, though, Swervo agreed to take him under his wing. He felt like Pimp was going to do it anyway, so he might as well keep an eye on him and make him do it right.

Swervo used to always talk about Pimp making it to the NBA. That was his dream. Too bad that shit never came true.

“What’s up fellas?” Pimp shook both of their hands.

“What’s up?” they replied.

“How shit looking up the village?” Cho asked.

“Lovely. I was just making my rounds,” Pimp said as he took a seat. “I need to drop some T’s up Garrison though. Some niggas came out with something alright. It ain’t fuckin’ with our shit, but I wanna show the fiends some love and make them forget about that other shit.”

“Cool. I’ll call Terrell and let him know to make you up some,” Radi said. “How many you tryin’ to give out?”

“Like 200.”

“That’s cool.”

“Alright, that’s a bet.” He looked at Cho. “What’s up with the bitches, Cho?”

“You got ‘em, you tell me,” Cho smiled. Pimp reminded him so much of Swervo. They looked and acted so much alike, he thought. Swervo used to ask him the same question. “They probably down . . .” Before Cho could finish his statement, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the ID to see who it was, then answered.

“Woeday… Oh yeah?... Alright, let me know if you see them niggas again…Alright…later.”

Damn, Cho thought. Just as he was thinking about Swervo, Leroy called to tell him that he was in in Owings Mills Mall and saw the dudes who killed his nigga. Cho didn’t want to repeat it because he knew how Pimp would react. Leroy was with his family so he couldn't do shit. By the time they got to the mall from downtown, them niggas would be long gone anyway. There was no need to fuck up niggas’ moods for nothing. He just sighed.

Radi saw the expression on his face. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Oh, ain’t nuttin’. That was Leroy.”

“Is everything cool?” Pimp asked.

“Yeah, everything is everything. When you wanna drop?” Cho asked, trying to take the focus off of himself.

“Tomorrow. That way we’ll be good for the weekend.”

“I feel you. I’ma call Terrell.”

Terrell was their table man. It was his job to mix the dope for them. They dealt with so much heroin every day that they didn’t have time to scramble it themselves. Terrell stayed at the table every day, so he had it to a science.

Cho hit Terrell on the phone. He always waited until the fourth ring to pick up.

“Hello?”

“What’s up, nigga? A, make sure you put a 2x white T-shirt in that bag for Pimp. Make sure it’s tight too, like a Rocawear or Polo or something.”

Terrell understood. “OK. It’ll be ready.”

“I’ll holla.”

“Aight. Later.”

Cho got up from his seat, and everyone followed. They walked down the steps and out the door.

“A, I’ma go holla at Tato to see what’s poppin’,” Radi said as he got into his car.

Pimp nodded. “I’ma see what’s up with this bitch out Lansdowne. She off today. Cho, you remember the bitch Lisa?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I need some of that in my life!”

“Alright, I get up wit y’all niggas later.”

Cho looked around perplexed. “Pimp,” he asked. “What are you driving?” He scanned the parking lot.

Pimp smiled. “That.” He pointed his keys towards a row of cars that were against the wall and pushed the button for the doors to unlock. When Cho saw the lights on the 2006 GS430 light up, he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I copped it yesterday,” Pimp explained. “Check it out.”

This nigga’s crazy!, he thought. They made a rule that no one would get anything flashy. Cars brought attention and even though they had money, they felt it was best to stay on the low. A GS430 wasn’t too flashy, but it was 2004. Cho thought the new body style wasn’t supposed to hit the market until 2005. And this nigga got an ’06? He couldn’t believe it. Pimp had to be the only nigga in town with this car. Who wouldn’t notice?

Cho and Pimp walked over and Radi pulled his car in front of it. He felt the same way Cho did. They both had to admit the new body style was fresh. The car was black on black with 22-inch black BBS rims.

“Yo, you crazy! What made you buy that shit?” Cho said, frustated.

“Man, check this out! Look at all that money my brother made and he ain’t do shit with it. I mean, he bought some properties or whatever and made sure our family would be straight, but he didn’t really enjoy himself. I’ma do me! I ain’t promised tomorrow. I’ma get it how I live. Fuck dat shit!” Pimp yelled, pounding his fist into his palm for emphasis. “You niggas can sit around and be conservative wit y’all cake. I would’ve brought a Bentley, but ain’t enough of them in the city for me to do that yet. We’ve been on this run for almost two years and you niggas still ridin’ Honda Accords and shit. If I die tomorrow, at least I’ll be satisfied with my life. I got bitches, whips, houses, my family straight and my nephews are definitely good. You niggas is trippin’ over a whip?”

“But you just copped that truck a month ago,” Radi added.

“And I might cop another one next week,” Pimp said sarcastically. “As long as my paper straight, I’ma do me!”

Cho interrupted. “Nigga, you need slow down. I ain’t saying don’t enjoy yourself but you better pay attention to what you do. We ain’t tryna get knocked off. That’s why we been able to stay on this run for so long. We stay low key. Be easy. Stop being a hot head.”

Pimp had become a live wire. Since Swervo died, his whole personality had changed. He didn’t give a fuck about anything. He said he fully planned to do him regardless of the consequences and he kept proving that he meant it. He valued Radi and Cho’s opinion, but he was on some “what Pimp wants, Pimp gets” shit.

Cho looked Pimp dead in his eyes. He wanted him to feel how serious he really was. “Don’t buy no more cars for a while and please don’t ride through the ‘hood stuntin’. You know it’s hot.”

Pimp shook his head and smiled at the car. “OK. I’ll put it up, but you niggas do need to start livin’. I’ll get at y’all later.” He got in his car and waited for Radi to pull off. Then he did the same.

Cho stood there for a minute, his eyes wandering across the parking lot to check his surroundings. He realized they had been standing there for a long time and he wanted to see if anyone was being nosy. As his eyes screened the top of the lot, he saw four nurses coming out of the old market. One of them caught his attention.

He speed walked across Paca Street dodging traffic. Cho didn’t usually chase after women, but this girl really had his eye. She was tall and dark-skinned with chinky eyes, and had the perfect shape. She reminded him of Keisha off of Belly. He had to get her. The band of women noticed him coming towards them but they kept on walking. He crossed their path right in front of Lexaco.

“How are you ladies doing?” They all looked at him, but only one of them spoke. It’s always the ugly one, he thought.

“Damn! I was just saying hi.”

“Hi,” they said in unison.

“What’s your name?” he asked the one he had his eyes on. “Can you slow down for a minute?” She turned and smiled. “My name is Cho.” He extended his hand. She shook it.

Her friends stopped as well but continued to have their own conversation, not paying Cho and their co-worker any attention. The unattractive one felt some type of way that Cho didn’t want to talk to her. She sucked her teeth and spoke loudly for her friend to hurry.

“My name is Dale,” she replied. She looked to the left with a slight giggle. She knew what her co-worker was doing. That bitch always hatin’. Then she looked back at Cho quickly, observing him from head to toe. He is a handsome dude, she thought to herself.

Cho smiled. “Dale…” Damn, I never met a Dale before. I definitely won’t forget that. “I don’t want to hold you and your friends. I just wanted to know your name. Hopefully I’ll see you again.” He grinned some more.

“OK,” she replied. She knew he wanted her phone number, so she was surprised when he didn’t ask for it.

“You ladies have a nice day.” He turned and walked back towards his car.

She paused to watch him cross the street.

“Girl, come on! What you still standing there for? Damn!” The ugly one said.

Dale walked towards her co-workers, her head fucked up that he just walked away. Cho knew that this particular pick-up always worked. He didn’t want to seem too pressed, so he would just introduce himself, get the girl’s name and let her go about her business. Nine times out of 10, she would see him again and remember who he was. Then he would get her. He figured she worked in University Hospital or one of the nursing homes in the area, and came to the market to eat or for parking. He did the same thing, so he knew he would cross her path again. He got in his car and pulled off.

Cho decided to go and check on Randy, so he headed east. During the drive, he thought about what Pimp said. It was about time he bought something nice for himself. He would still drive the Accord every day, but he wanted something that he could stunt out with on occasions.

He liked the Range Rover, but he also liked the big body Benz. It was just a thought. It seemed like he had been stacking forever. He hadn’t spent a large sum of money since he had left that bitch. Damn, he thought. He didn’t want to think about her and fuck his day up.

He called Randy to let him know he was on his way. Before he could hang up, one of his other phones began to ring. He kept three phones, a two way and a beeper. One phone he had for Ol’ Head and Radi — no one else called on that line. He had a phone for his family, and the other phone was for everyone else.

All of his phone numbers would change at the drop of a dime. He couldn’t mix his business communication with pleasure, so he put them each on their own line. As he hung up with Randy, he answered the other phone. It was Ol’ Head.

“What’s up, shorty?”

“Ain’t shit. Wassup wit chu?” Cho replied.

“Chillin’. Where you at?”

“Just came from eatin’. How ‘bout you?”

“I’m floatin’ right now. Meet me down Mo’s later on.”

“Like what time?”

“Man, I don’t know. Just go down there later.”

“Cool.” They hung up, and Cho continued his drive in silence. He started thinking about Swervo. He wondered if he had actually enjoyed his life. Damn! Why did God take him so soon? Everything was going fine. What the fuck was them niggas’ problem? Swervo was my brother! I’ma kill them niggas!

“All them niggas gonna die,” he growled out loud. “I put that on everything I love!”

He grabbed the steering wheel tighter. Why did that shit go down like that? All that kept flashing in his head was the sight of a bright spark piercing Swervo’s temple and his brains coming out of the other side while the shooter looked on — smiling. Whenever Cho was alone, the event replayed in his mind. The shit still didn’t seem real. He thought back to that dreadful day in June.

• • // • •

It was a nice summer evening. The sun had finally set and a soft, mellow breeze accompanied the rising moon. The scene was live. Cars were bumper-to-bumper with their systems boomin’. There were no parking spaces for blocks, so the streets were jammed packed with people.

The Midnight Madness Basketball Tournament always attracted a crowd. It was played at the Dome, an enclosed basketball court located in the heart of East Baltimore. NBA players like Sam Cassell, Carmelo Anthony, Steve Francis and Juan Dixon played alongside college ballers, and so did other hoop stars from the surrounding areas.

It was championship time, so the who’s who in the city was in attendance. Women were dressed like they were going to the club. It didn’t seem much like people were coming to actually watch a basketball game. It was more like a block party.

Pimp’s team had made the championship. They were playing against Steve Francis’ team from DC. The Baltimore/DC rivalry was intense. Even though Baltimore and DC were just 45 minutes apart, there wasn’t much love between the two cities. Each had to prove its dominance over its counterpart in every way imaginable, and today’s stage was the basketball court.

The game had begun and it was a battle early on. Steve Francis seemed to dominate. Pimp had a few flashy dunks but by halftime, DC was up by 8 points.

DJ Nelly Nell rocked the crowd during halftime. Cho and Swervo went out to mingle and meet some new faces. As they walked through the crowd speaking to familiar people and shaking hands, they came across Leroy, a short, slick-talking dude from Monument Street with a mouth full of gold teeth and a lisp that made him spit when he talked.

“A yo, what sup wit’ chall nigguz?” he asked, giving them both a pound.

“Ain’t nuttin, just checkin out the whores,” Swervo replied.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of bitches out tonight. You should see these two I just got. I’ma have me a long night, you hear me!” Leroy said, grinning ear to ear. “But I’m about to hit this dice game so I’ma get up wit’chall later.”

“Dice game… where?” Swervo loved to shoot dice. He felt like it was his calling. He swore that his stroke was the best in the city. How could there be a dice game and he not know about it?

“Down the street in Odesa Court. You comin’?”

“Yeah… come on, Cho. Let’s get this money.”

Odesa Court was an apartment complex that was separated from the Dome by a baseball field. The three of them walked down the street, admiring the scenery of lovely ladies waiting for the second half of the game to begin.

When they reached Odesa Court, they approached the huge crowd of people huddled in front of one of the apartment buildings. Cho surveyed the entire area. Most of the faces were familiar and if something popped off, there were four ways to run. He was strapped and wanted to stay on point. Swervo was strapped too, but his mind was on the dice game. They greeted everyone they knew and Swervo got in the game. Cho side betted, but his main concern was watching Swervo’s back.

Initially, Swervo was losing. But out of nowhere he got hot, hitting 12 points straight, betting everyone around the board before he crapped out. Then everybody else crapped out, and he had the dice back within minutes. He hit eight more points. He was throwing all types of numbers, and his concentration never left the dice.

Leroy was side betting with Swervo and was talking cold cash shit. Swervo hit another point. He went around the board collecting his earnings, then stooped down and started to school the dice. Cho won too and was getting his winnings from the guys that he bet when he felt his phone vibrate. It was Pimp.

“Damn! Where the fuck y’all at? The game is over,” Pimp said.

Cho looked at his watch. Damn. Time flew. They had been gambling for over an hour. “Man, Swervo down here striking the shit out these niggas. We in Odesa. Hurry up so you can get some of this money… oh yeah, who won the game?” Cho asked while putting his cash together.

“They did. I had 28 and 11 though.”

“That’s cool. I’ll see you in a minute.” Cho had his phone resting on his shoulder. He put his money in his pocket and moved to put his cell back on his hip when he realized his phone clip had fallen. In the few seconds it took to bend down and pick it up, he heard Swervo say, “What the fuck?”

Before Cho could pull out his nine, a nigga had a Glock .40 to the back of Swervo’s head.

“Don’t none of you niggas move! Y’all know what time it is!” he grunted. At the same time, three more guys pulled out and started shoving their guns in niggas’ faces.

“Everybody kick that shit out! We don’t wanna hurt nobody,” one of them shouted. So many dudes had been coming and going from the dice game that Cho hadn’t paid these muthafuckers any attention.

“Kick all that shit out! What? Y’all think this shit a game?” another dude yelled as he hit one of the gamblers across his head with the butt of his .45.

They took everybody’s cash and jewels. Somebody had to put them on this game, Cho thought. He tried to be slick and just hand them a few dollars out of his pocket that he had grabbed quickly. It worked. There were so many people that they didn’t have the time or the manpower to search everyone thoroughly. They didn’t even feel his gun. These niggas is amateurs.

Once they were satisfied with their take, they signaled to the guy who had the gun to Swervo’s head. He hadn’t moved the whole time. He kept his eye out while the other three collected the loot. He shook his head, signaling them back.

He whispered to Swervo, “Nigga, you coming with us” and jerked him as he started walking backwards, using Swervo’s body as a shield between him and the people standing around. “If anybody tries anything, I’ma push this nigga’s shit back!” he yelled. He never took his eyes off of the crowd. Cho was keeping his eye on the robber, though, just waiting for the right time to pull out. He wasn’t trying to chance Swervo getting shot.

As they exited from the opposite side of the court where Cho, Swervo and Leroy had entered earlier, the robber broke out in a big smile. They had made a successful heist and were about to get away cleanly, but something came over him. He felt powerful, a power that he felt so often after the completion of a robbery. The rush of having another man’s life in the palm of his hand and being the master of that man’s destiny — sometimes it got the best of him and sometimes it didn’t. This time, the rush overwhelmed him and he pulled the trigger.

Everything started to move in slow motion. Cho saw the spark and watched chunks of Swervo’s brain exit the opposite side of his head. He tried to yell “No!,” but nothing came out. He ran towards the robber, letting off shot after shot. Others began to shoot, as well. But the stick up boys managed to get away.

Cho stood over Swervo’s lifeless body. He was speechless. He couldn’t believe it. This shit can’t be real, he thought.

He wanted to stay but the hot gun in his hand brought him back to reality. Swervo was dead and Cho had to flee the scene. He looked at Swervo one last time.

“I love you, my nig.” And he ran off.

The shots were heard for blocks and everyone who had been playing the let out for the basketball game was now running to their cars in a panic. There was complete mayhem. Police were monitoring the area but because of the heavy traffic, they couldn’t get to the scene. Cho fought his way through the crowd and finally made it to his car. He slid the gun under the driver’s seat and shut the door, then stood between his car and the one beside it and pissed on his hands to get rid of any gunpowder residue. He wiped his hands dry with his shirt and doubled back to find Pimp. He called him on the phone.

“Yo. Where you at?”

“Man, I heard the shots and got outta there. I hopped in the car with Candy, and… ah Sacha right?” he asked, trying to make sure he got the girls’ names right. He had met them on his way to the dice game. “Where y’all at?”

Chit chatting with some females had saved Pimp from witnessing the death of his brother. He had no idea that Cho and Swervo were involved with the shooting.

Cho tried to keep his composure. “A yo tell ‘em to bring you to the Amoco on Orleans Street by Old Town Mall. I need to holla at you.”

“Alright, cool. I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”

“Later.” They hung up. Cho watched the ambulance arrive, but he knew they weren’t going to be able to bring Swervo back. So he got in his car and pulled off. Tears started falling from his eyes. He didn't understand the turn of events. Everything was going fine. How couldn’t I see that these niggas were on that tip? How’d I slip like that? Who the fuck are these niggas? How am I gonna tell Pimp? This nigga gonna wild out.

“Shit! What the fuck? Swervo!” he screamed. So much shit was going through his mind. His heart was racing. As he pulled into the gas station, he saw that Pimp was already there, engulfed in what seemed to be a funny conversation with his new lady friends. As he pulled beside them, Pimp noticed he was in the car alone. Once they made eye contact, Pimp could see the puffiness and redness around Cho’s eyes. He knew what it meant but did not want to believe it.

“Where’s my brother?” he asked calmly. Cho just looked at him. He could not put the words together. “Yo, where the fuck is Swervo?” he shouted. The tone of his voice made the girls stop their conversation and focus on what was wrong with Pimp.

“He’s gone,” Cho said under his breath. “There… was…” He searched for words to explain, but he couldn’t get it out. He looked down and took a deep breath. Cho tried to fight the tears but couldn’t. He wiped his face and looked back at Pimp. “Some niggas… some niggas robbed the dice game and shot yo in the process… Swervo is dead.” He kept eye contact with Pimp.

Once his words registered in Pimp’s brain, Cho saw something in his eyes that he had never seen before. They were full of fiery and rage. Cho knew shit would never be the same after that day.

• • // • •

When Cho got to the corner of North Avenue and Washington Street, his eyes scanned the block looking for Randy. Where the fuck is he? Cho said to himself. As soon as he finished the thought, Randy came out of a school-turned-apartment building, crossed North Avenue and waited for Cho to pull over. When the car lined up to the curb, Randy hopped in and they drove off.

“What the fuck you listening to?” Randy asked, squinting at the radio.

“Earth, Wind and Fire. I’m in my zone right now. Nigga, what’s good?” Cho replied, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Everything is everything. They be lovin’ that shit over here. It’s like 10 different dopes in the building but the word is getting out. In another week or two, I’ll have this bitch like the Carter,” Randy grinned. “You shoulda been gave me that shit. It’s a goldmine over here!”

Randy had been trying to get his little cousin to put him on for over a year. It was funny because just a few years back, it had been the other way around. Randy was one of the top players in East Baltimore. He was well-respected and had been getting money for as long as Cho could remember. The only problem was he had a blow habit and it had begun to take a toll on him.

One night the police walked down on him while he was in a deep nod in his car. When they shined a flashlight in his face, they could see residue still on the tip of his nose and in his mustache. He also had a half gram of raw heroin crushed in a $100 bill in his hand that he had planned to sniff if he hadn't started nodding.

Once they saw that, the cops searched the vehicle and found a .357 Magnum under the driver’s seat and $30,000 in the trunk. Randy was so high he didn’t even realize that he got himself knocked off. He did three and a half years on a five-year bid and was released to a drug rehabilitation program. That was five years ago.

By the time he came home, everything that he had before his arrest was gone. His girl had spent all of his money and his connect had been murdered. He needed lil’ cuz to help him get back on his feet. He wanted his spot back and Cho could put him right where he left off.

Cho didn’t have a problem with it. He wanted some of that Eastside money, but he had to make sure that Randy was ready. He didn’t want him to relapse and make the same mistake again. He knew East was a goldmine, but he wouldn’t allow his greed to outweigh his instincts. A dope fiend was only good for doing dope fiend shit. Randy hadn’t got high since that night, and as far as Cho could see, he didn’t plan on fucking around again. He was ready, and once Chico was up and running smoothly, Randy was next.

“I didn’t know it was that much money in the building. I had an idea, but to see it… shorty, it’s a beautiful thing. The hallways be packed with people 24 hours a day. I think those numbers that we assumed to make are going to double or — on some real shit — triple.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Cho interrupted in disbelief.

“Sho’nuff lor nigga! I’ve been doing this shit here for a long time, and I know what the fuck I’m talking about. If you stay consistent with that smack right there or it gets better… shorty, we gonna be straight. I feel like this is it for me, so I got to get it this time. We good! I’m tellin’ you cuz. We good! Just keep that shit comin’!”

Cho shook his head in agreement. “Fo’sho.” Keeping it coming went without saying. It made Cho feel good to see his cousin so confident. His drive to get money was relentless and he was determined to get back on top.

Cho dropped Randy off where he had picked him up. They had driven around the neighborhood a few times to complete their conversation. Niggas were nosy and the streets were always watching. No one needed to know who Randy was talking to or who the driver of the Honda Accord was.

Cho headed back west. He was going to ride through Chico’s block, but changed his mind. He looked down at his watch. It was 6:00 pm. Them lil’ niggas should be about done for the day, he thought. Back in the ‘hood, Cho made sure that the drug traffic was at a minimum after 6:00. By that time, most people could get their fix for the evening. It also meant that everyone that lived in the neighborhood was home from work and school. He wanted the community to be able to relax without having run-ins with fiends. He expected peace in the ‘hood. Keep the neighborhood on your side, he would always tell the young niggas on his team. Everything was in order as he rode through.

He parked his car and went to Sheila’s house. He figured Scrappy would be there soon to bring him up-to-date with the day’s revenue and events. But instead of going inside, he just sat on the porch, admiring the little kids that ran up and down the street. He wished he had kids of his own.

All of his homeboys had kids, and all of their kids loved Uncle Cho. He loved them right back. Cho loved kids period. He couldn’t figure out how in his 26 years on earth and all the women he had dealt with, none of them had made him a father.

As his thoughts raced on about fatherhood, his phone vibrated, bringing Cho back to the present. It was Chico. Carrying their usual coded conversation, Chico briefly informed Cho that all was well. He hung up, grabbed his other phone with his left hand from his waistband to call Radi and placed the phone in his right hand back on the clip. When Radi answered, he told him that he and Ol’ Head would be down at Mo’s later. Radi declined the invitation because he had to do something for Tiff. Depending on what time they were done, he said, he would come down there. Cho knew that was bullshit. Radi wasn’t going anywhere but in the house.

As much as Cho teased Radi, he was also jealous. He wished he could find him a girl so they could have kids and do the family thing. But his past experiences had caused his heart to be extremely heavy. Man, I hate that bitch, he thought. Why did she do me so greasy? Was it possible to love again? he thought. Then he caught himself and snapped back into his reality. Fuck that shit. MOB—Money Over Bitches. If it came again he would run with it — if not fuck it. He always had Sheila’s kids if he couldn’t have his own. He looked down the block and saw Scrappy approaching. That’s right, money over bitches. And he had a lot of it.