Crave All Lose All (8 page)

Read Crave All Lose All Online

Authors: Erick Gray

BOOK: Crave All Lose All
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Here, yo…thanks,” I said.
“What’s this? Fuck you think you’re doin’, Vince?”
Tyriq looked at me as if I had disrespected him.
“I’m giving you back what I got left.”
“Yo, do I look like I need that shit back?”
“I’m sayin wit’…”
“Take that and buy your son some toys.”
“You sure…?”
“Vince, that’s your money, ayyite?”
“Thanks, yo,” I said, stuffing the knot back into my pocket.
“Holla at a nigga…”
“No doubt, one,” I said giving him a loud dap thinking a nigga gotta live. I walked to my mom’s crib.
I was about to take an afternoon nap when I heard the phone ring. I picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hello, can I please speak to Mr. Vincent Grey.” A woman’s voice said.
“This is he…”
“I’m calling about your job application to UPS. We’re giving out a courtesy call to let you know that your application is on file.”
“Oh, good, so when are y’all hiring?” I said excitedly.
“Not until the end of the year, November.”
“When…?”
“November… we usually hire more help around that time, to help out with the holiday season, and we’ll give you a call around then.”
“November…? Why the fuck you called me for if y’all ain’t hiring right now?” I barked.
“Excuse me…” she was shocked.
“Lady, I need a fuckin’ job now. Fuck I’m gonna wait five months for y’all to call,” I said hanging up.
I fell back on the bed. After a few winks, my moms came in and told me Tyriq was on the phone. It was five in the evening.
She passed me the cordless and raised her eyebrows before walking out the room.
“Tyriq, what’s up?” I asked.
“You sleep?”
“Nap,” I said.
“I don’t know what you do most, ayyite? Fuckin’ with da bitches or sleepin’. Meet me in an hour,” he said.
“An hour…?”
“Yeah, at the corner of your block…”
I hung up and started getting ready. My mother came back in the room.
“So, you and Tyriq are best friends again?”
“We always been cool,” I replied.
“How’s that boy? I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
“He’s good,” I said, throwing on my Tims. I knew where the conversation with her was going.
“You know, Vincent, I heard a lot of things about that boy. Is he
into drugs?” my mother asked. She already knew the answer. “He’s always driving nice expensive trucks.”
“I guess...”
“Boy, don’t lie to me. I still talk to his mother. You think that I don’t know?”
“Why’d you ask me then?”
“I know he’s your friend, and y’all grew up together, but don’t let that boy get you into any trouble. You hear me, Vincent? You’re a good man. If your father was alive, you know what he’d say. He loved you and wanted nothing but the best for you. Don’t disappoint him.”
“Yeah, I’m wit’ you, ma.”
There was a short pause as both of us reflected on the memory of dad.
“I miss him, ma. Sometimes it seemed so much easier when he was around.”
My mother came closer, pulled me into her arms, embracing me.
“I know baby. I miss him too. But you have to be strong for me, for the family. I know things are hard now, Vincent. In due time, baby… God speed…”
Nine
I waited for Tyriq on the corner of my block smoking a Black & Mild. It was boiling outside, and I felt like I was about to melt in my wife-beater, denim jeans, and timberlands. My mother’s words were eating me up on the inside as I waited for Tyriq to show. I had to do this one thing, make a couple thousands, put myself above water and shit.
Around six in the evening a burgundy Escalade pulled up.
“Get in, Vince,” Tyriq said.
I jumped in giving him dap and he pulled off. He was sporting a fresh throwback Bulls Jersey and a matching fitted.
“Damn, nigga, you don’t sleep, huh?” I joked.
“I’ll sleep when I dead,” he responded.
“Yo, I’m in,” I said feeling my heart race.
“Now you bout ya biz,” he nodded.
“I just need to make some quick paper, get me back on my feet and then I’m goin’ back to school,” I added.
“Yo, ain’t nuthin’ wrong wit’ that. I need some educated niggas having my back in this game. Yo, some of these young corner-niggas that I got workin’ for me, they bust guns and can hold it down. But when it comes to simple math and some intelligent shit, they dumb as rocks, Vince,” he stated.
We drove down Supthin Blvd.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Ayyite, tonight I want you to meet some of the fellows.”
“That’s cool. But Tyriq, one thing, I don’t have shit wit’ this game.
And I ain’t no killer. I just wanna make some money, that’s all. I ain’t out here trying to kill anybody.”
He stared at me before replying.
“What da fuck you mean you ain’t a killer? Shit Vince, everybody’s a killer. You just don’t know it yet.”
“What’d you mean by that?”
“Everybody’s got two fuckin’ sides to them…good, bad, slut, wifey… fuck it. Everybody’s got that twin self they try hard to contain. You just ain’t brought yours out yet.”
“What, you tryin’ to kick psychology now?”
“Ayyite, if a nigga come after you… better yet, if a nigga come after Chandra or your son, your mother, what you gonna do?”
I hesitated and Tyriq answered for me. “Yo, I tell you what you’re gonna do, Vince. You’re gonna take that nigga out before he come get at you and your fam. No doubt about that, right?”
I shrugged.
“You’d be a fool if you didn’t lay that nigga out. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you.”
“That’s how it is with this game, Vince. If a nigga threatens your family, your money, your business, you gonna lay him down and make sure he stays down. That’s survival. That’s how it’s played out here, we family. We ride together and we die together. My shit is tight, ayyite? Strong, cuz out here, only the strong survives… ayyite? It’s like the jungle, Vince. We lions, the cannibals in this fuckin’ concrete jungle and them junkies, the competitors, the haters, and even five-o, are prey. They are weak. If they try to come at us on some disrespectful shit, we tear and shred them like muthafuckin’ lions in Africa. In this here game you better fuckin’ respect strong and hard, cuz if you don’t, then this shit is gonna come back and bite you on the ass… I came up in da game strong, cuz I put my heart into this shit. I don’t care if you’re peddling drugs on some dirty ass street corner day after day. Be the best hustler on that corner. Sell them rocks like your package is the last package on the earth. That’s what I expect. You do this with heart, go at it a hundred and ten percent or don’t do it at all. A hundred and ten percent…?” Tyriq asked.
“Yeah, my nigga I’m wit’ you,” I replied.
“Let’s go shopping, tonight, you rolling fresh.”
Tyriq, Spoon, and I got out of Tyriq’s new Yukon sitting on 24” spinning chromed rims. It felt so good, as the three of us approached Occasions on Merrick Blvd. Dressed in Jockey waffle crewneck shirt, denim jeans, and suede shoes, I was feeling like a don. Tyriq sported a Mitchell & Ness ‘65 Philadelphia 76ers jacket, denim jeans, and white Nikes. Spoon rocked a green Pelle Pelle jacket, T-shirt, matching limited edition Air Force Ones and Enyce sweat pants.
Hordes of people were waiting to get in. The ladies were all looking sexy. We walked through the thick crowd heading for the front. No one said a word to us. Two brawny bouncers let Tyriq and Spoon through immediately. It became a problem when I tried to follow.
“You gotta wait,” he told me in a stern voice, pushing me back.
“Tyriq, what’s good?” I called out.
“This Vince, he down,” Tyriq said.
“I’m sorry…ah, I didn’t know.” The bouncer nodded.
I eyed him as I passed. The nightclub was on and popping. Music bumping and the ladies were looking good. I followed closely behind Tyriq and Spoon to the VIP. where bottles of Cristal, Moet and beautiful women flooded the room.
I never experienced anything like this. The love and respect was overwhelming. Everyone greeted Tyriq, especially Spoon with mad love.
The ladies stuck to them like white on rice. I was excited but nervous. I knew a few but many didn’t know me. It was a new world for me.
Tip was clad in his usual wife-beater, flexing his biceps and having a shortie on his lap. I smiled when she started nibbling his ear.
Tyriq threw his arm around me, while clutching a bottle of Moet.
“Yo, this my nigga, Vince, right here. He’s family, ayyite? So y’all treat this nigga with respect.”
The deejay had the spot jumping with jams and I was right up on the ladies getting my game on.
During the course of the night, I became familiar with the crew and bitches. Tip, Killer Ty and Bones were Tyriq’s main enforcers. John-John,
Malik, Red, Loc and Spoon were lieutenants.
John-John was a huge gorilla looking linebacker mutha fucka, who was six-three and two hundred and seventy-five pounds easy, with a lazy eye. Red, was a high yellow slim looking nigga with short curly hair. Malik was a stout looking muthafucka, with a thick black beard and heavily tattood. Loc was a light skinned, pretty boy. His hair was styled like Snoop Dogg and he had gray eyes.
Tyriq was lounging, sipping Cristal with a bitch. Tip walked over and whispered something in his ear. The look on Tyriq’s face changed. He got up with a sense of urgency.
“Yo, Tyriq, everything good…?” I asked when he was close to me.
“I gotta go handle sump’n. Enjoy yourself Vince,” he said rushing from the VIP with Tip, Killer Ty, and Bones following.
“Vince, let me holla at you in private for a moment,” Spoon said.
“No doubt,” I said following him out.
We walked out for fresh air. I looked at Spoon and was shocked when he suddenly rushed me and threw me against a wall. His forearm was pressed against my windpipe. His grip around me was tight.
“What the fuck is wrong wit’ you nigga!” I shouted.
“What the fuck is you doing?” he barked.
“Fuck you talkin’ about?”
“You think this thang is glamorous, muthafucka?” He exclaimed.
“What?” I asked confused.
Spoon let up on his grip and backed off.
“Tyriq shouldn’t have brought you into this thang. It ain’t you, Vince,” Spoon said.
“What da fuck you mean this ain’t me?”
“Nigga, you think this thang is just about money, ho’s and clothes. You were doing good, nigga. You got your son. You had a job, yo. You’re a civilian. This shit here will change a man, Vince. I don’t wanna see you get caught up in this thang and get killed. You my nigga from back in the days and I respected you cuz you never got caught up in this thang we do. You weren’t out here frontn’ like most these niggas be doing. Your thang was tight.”
“C’ mon, Spoon, what else am I supposed to do? I got laid the fuck
off and ain’t no other jobs out there calling me. I gotta live and eat too, right? I’m just trying to make my money and do me.”
“Not like this, Vince. You understand that once you get involved in this thang, ain’t no going back. When you in, you’re in deep.”
“Spoon, I know how to handle myself. I ain’t pussy.”
“Vince, let me tell you something. See me…? I was born into this thang. You used to live across the street from me. Remember how my moms got down when I was young—three different niggas in the crib every night. Punk-ass niggas fuck my moms so she could score drugs. Yo, they used to shoot up right in front of me. My moms ain’t give a fuck. As long as she got her drugs, she was good. But when everythang wasn’t cool with her, yo, that bitch used to whip my ass, take out her frustration on me. That punk ass, Rolla move in with us, shit got even worse. You remember all ‘em nights, po-po used to come to my crib, cuz the nigga beat my moms and me.”
“What you trying to say?”
“I used to envy you, Vince. You ain’t had to go through the thang I went through. Why you think I liked spending time over your house so much. I was able to get away from that hell hole. Your moms and pops were like family to me. I used to want to run away and move in across the street with you and your family. Growing up, all I knew were the drugs and the dealers. You don’t need no thang like that.”
“Yo, I’m just trying to make ends, get my shit right then get the fuck out.”
He snickered and said, “Yeah, that’s what they all say then they get greedy.”
“That ain’t me, Spoon.”
“We’ll see. We ain’t kids anymore,” he said walking away.
I remained outside for a moment, thinking.
Am I getting over my head in this thing? Nigga, just get yours and get out
. I sighed.
Ten
Tyriq
 
Tyriq and his crew of three drove into Hollis. It was ten minutes passed two in the morning and the streets of Hollis, Queens was quiet and peaceful. Tyriq gripped the 9mm riding shotgun. He peered out the window thinking about his brother’s death. He knew the culprits responsible for his brother’s death would come out of hiding soon--and they did.

Other books

Confessions of a Serial Kisser by Wendelin Van Draanen
Red Hot by Ann B. Harrison
Sink: The Lost World by Perrin Briar
Warriors Don't Cry by Melba Pattillo Beals
Flame of the West by David Pilling
Here and Now: Letters (2008-2011) by Paul Auster, J. M. Coetzee