Diamonds and Pearl (11 page)

“You got it, Knowledge,” Stoney said shamefully. He looked up to Knowledge and took it personally whenever he got on him. He felt slighted and his face showed it.

When he heard Raheem snicker, Knowledge realized he'd gone too far. He was mad at Stoney, but it was a conversation he should've had with him in private and not in front of his friends. No man, no matter how young or old, wanted to be castrated in front of his peers. “Lil bro,” Knowledge said, softening his tone. He threw his arm around Stoney affectionately. “I don't condone what you did, but I understand. You was wrong for gambling, but you were right to go see sun over ass-betting you. Never let a man take anything from you without taking double in return. That's what'll make muthafuckas respect you. No matter who your family is or how much money you got, there will be nothing more valuable to you in life than respect, you feel me?”

“Yeah,” Stoney said, feeling a little better now.

“Okay, I'm about to get out of here to go handle a few things before I have to pick your dad up from the airport. Tell your friends good night, and go get yourself ready for dinner. Sandra is waiting.”

“I swear, we gotta be the only family in the hood who eats dinner at five P.M.,” Stoney complained.

“Whatever, just take your little ass into the house,” Knowledge told him before descending the steps and heading to his car.

Parked at the curb was a booger-green 1993 Acura Legend that looked like it had seen better days. Aside from the stereo system and the tints, there was nothing in or about the car that was under ten years old. He had another whip, but you hardly ever saw him in it. The Acura was his everyday vehicle. Whenever Knowledge pulled up on the block in the clunker, he always found himself the butt of a joke. All his people he had come up with in the game with now drove whips more fitting for men in their positions, but Knowledge was good with the same car that had been holding him down for years. They were welcome to their flash and shine, while he was content to lurk in the shadows.

He sat behind the wheel, the car idling, watching as Stoney and his crew said their good-byes. He smirked as he thought of how odd of a group they seemed. They were from different cities, different upbringings, and different places in society, but they had seen something in one another than no one else had, which was the glue that bound them. Knowledge respected their childhood friendship and hoped that it held up into adulthood.

Raheem and Domo were passing Knowledge's car on their way to the train station when he rolled the window down. “Domo, let me holla at you for a second.” Knowledge popped the automatic locks. Without questioning it, Domo pulled the passenger door open and climbed in. Raheem opened the back door and was about to slide inside when Knowledge stopped him. “Your man will get back with you in two seconds,” he told Raheem, letting him know that whatever he had to say wasn't for Raheem's ears.

“A'ight,” Raheem said with a hint of an attitude. He closed the door a little harder than he needed to and stood on the curb to wait for his friend.

“That kid has got a real attitude problem,” Knowledge said, looking at Raheem in the passenger-side mirror. “If I were you, I'd watch him.”

Domo glanced over his shoulder at Raheem. “I ain't gotta watch him. He's from what I'm from, so I know what he's about. It's the niggas who ain't from what we're from who I gotta keep my third eye on,” he said, sounding like someone ten years his elder. Domo didn't talk much, but whenever he did, his words were always measured and thought-out.

“Must be a Jersey thing,” Knowledge half joked. “How's Understanding these days?” he said, changing the subject. Understanding was Domo's big brother and an acquaintance of Knowledge. They had never been part of the same crew, but their paths had crossed in their respective hustles, and they'd done the occasional side business.

“He's as well as can be expected, considering the circumstances,” Domo said.

“Yeah, that shit is wild how they did him—five years over some bullshit.” Knowledge shook his head sadly, thinking about how they'd done Understanding dirty over a parole violation and an ounce of cocaine.

Domo shrugged. “The game gives and the game takes.”

“Yo, if you need anything for him, just let me know and I'll take care of it. Un was a good soldier and a good dude.”

“Appreciate it, but we straight. Me and my mom been holding him down all this time, so I think we can manage until when he comes home next year,” Domo said respectfully. In truth, whatever Knowledge was trying to lay on him would've been helpful. It hadn't been easy for him and his mom to struggle to keep themselves above the poverty line while also taking care of the things Understanding needed while he was away. Some of his people would drop money off here and there. It was a burden that sometimes got too heavy to carry, but their family had too much pride to reach out to his street affiliates like beggars. They hadn't been offered anything before, so they wouldn't take it now.

“I hear that. Well, if you ever change your mind, just know that it's a standing offer,” Knowledge told him. “On another note, you still be fucking with them cats from off Prince Street?”

“I don't be over there like that no more, but I'm still cool with niggas from that side,” Domo replied.

“I need to have a word with one of your comrades from over that way. He calls himself Montega. You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him. We ain't friends, but I know who he is and he knows me. We're cordial,” Domo answered.

“Are you two cordial enough that if I hit you with some bread you could get me close to him?” Knowledge asked.

Domo weighed the question. “I probably could, but I wouldn't.”

“Why not?” Knowledge asked, curious as to why a hungry young dude would turn down cash.

“Because I know you don't mean Montega no good. If you did, I'm sure you could get in touch with him on your own instead of going through me,” Domo said, calling Knowledge on his bullshit.

“If you don't know him like that, then why does it matter to you if I mean him good or bad?” Knowledge quizzed him.

“Because he Blood, same as I am,” Domo said simply. “I'm not sure what your problem is with Montega or whether or not he deserves whatever you got in store for him, but so long as he's riding that
five,
I can't play a part in you doing him harm. I don't know how the Bs move in New York, but in the Bricks, that ain't how we're brought up.”

Knowledge stifled the smile that tried to spring to his lips at Domo's answer. “I can respect that.” He gave him dap. “I trust this conversation will never leave this car, right?”

“Like I said, I can't cosign whatever you got cooking, but I won't stand in your way, either.”

Knowledge nodded. “Spoken like an honorable young cat.”

“I don't know if I'd say all that, but I try to stay true to what I believe. We done? Me and Raheem gotta shoot downtown and catch the PATH train, and I don't wanna get caught in that rush-hour crowd.”

“Yeah, we done,” Knowledge said, dismissing him. Then he continued to sit there, contemplating the exchange long after Domo had gone. It was true that Knowledge did need to get at Montega over some business that hadn't been handled properly, but it wasn't as serious of a situation as he had led Domo to believe. It was a test of his morality. Knowledge always liked Domo and had been considering recruiting him, but he wasn't sure Domo had the nuts to play at that level. But in showing that he wouldn't compromise his integrity in the name of a dollar, Domo had proven that he may indeed be ready to take the next step.

 

CHAPTER TEN

“What'd that nigga want?” Raheem asked once they were off the block.

Domo shrugged. “Just asking me if I knew some dude from out of East Orange,” he lied.

“We from Newark. Why would he be asking you about somebody from way over in EO?” Raheem asked suspiciously.

“You know New York niggas assume everybody in Jersey knows everybody else,” Domo said, downplaying it. He didn't like being dishonest with his friend, but Raheem had a tendency to be chatty sometimes, and Domo never wanted it to get back to Knowledge and have him think he couldn't hold water.

“Word, they wouldn't know the difference between East Orange and Atlantic City. It's all the same to them.” Raheem laughed. “Yo, one thing I can never figure out is with all the money Knowledge is making working for Big Stone, why the fuck does he still drive that old-ass car? If I was getting it like that, I'd be pushing a fly-ass Benz!”

“Niggas who flash are the first ones to go to prison,” Domo warned.

Raheem sucked his teeth. “Fuck that! What's the good of having money if nobody knows? I'd have a fly ride, nice crib, and a bad-ass bitch like Pearl. Yo, did you see her giving me the eye when we were at her crib?”

“Nigga, you know Pearl wasn't looking at you.”

“That's on the hood she was checking for me!” Raheem insisted. “She be playing hard to get, but I'm gonna wear her down and she's gonna be my girl. Once me and Pearl start fucking, I'll get her to hook you up with her Spanish homegirl, because I know you be liking them yellow bitches. Once niggas in the hood see us with them, everybody gonna be on our dicks!”

Domo chuckled. “Bro, I love you, but you sound crazy. That's Big Stone's golden princess. Ain't no way her or anybody of her caliber is stunting no broke-ass niggas from the other side of the water.”

“We ain't gonna be broke forever, Domo. Our time is coming, and I can feel it,” Raheem proclaimed.

“Well, if it is coming, I wish it would hurry up,” Domo half joked, wishing he shared his friend's confidence.

“Have you given any thought to what we talked about?” Raheem asked.

“Yeah, and I'm not so sure it's a good idea. Stoney is our friend, and I'd never want him to think we were using him,” Domo told him.

“We ain't using him—just asking for a favor. It's like you said: Stoney is our friend and his dad is the plug, so who better than to get us a formal meeting?”

“We been around them long enough to know that Big Stone don't let his kids anywhere near his business. He'd probably beat the black off Stoney for asking, and us killed for putting him up to it. Nah, I'm gonna pass on that.”

Raheem sucked his teeth. “C'mon, Domo. If we keep sitting around waiting for someone to hand us an opportunity, we're never gonna get to where we need to be. We gotta step up and claim it. Sometimes to get where you need to be in life, you have to be willing to take risks.”

“I'm cool with risks. I just got a problem with dying,” Domo said, and ended the conversation.

The entire ride home, Raheem continued to chatter on about his dreams of becoming a crack lord, but Domo was only half listening. His mind was elsewhere. Sometimes when he visited Stoney and his family, it put him in what he could only describe as a funk. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy visiting with the Stone family; to the contrary, the visits were sometimes the high points of his weeks. Stoney had everything and was always generous with his friends, sharing money, food, and even clothes. During those visits, if only for a short time, Domo was able to forget that he was a poor kid from the Bricks, but then reality would set back in and he would remember that's exactly what he was. Every visit to the Stone residence was a reminder of how desperately he needed to get his weight up.

This brought him back to the conversation he was having with Raheem about asking Stoney for an introduction. He agreed with him that they needed a way in so they could start making some real money, but he wasn't about to go through Stoney to do it. Unlike Raheem, he valued Stoney's friendship too much to taint it by looking for a handout. Be it in Big Stone's organization or someone else's, Domo would earn what he got or he wouldn't have it.

They got off the PATH train at Newark Penn Station in Downtown Newark. Raheem wanted to jump on the bus and ride into Union to see if they could come up on a lick, but Domo wasn't up to it. It wasn't that he couldn't use the money, but he just wasn't up to it. He had too much on his mind, and going on a mission when your head wasn't in the game was a surefire way to get yourself caught. He suggested they put it off for another day, but Raheem's mind was set, so he went alone.

Instead of waiting for the bus to take him to his block, Domo decided to walk. He only lived a mile or so from the station, and the fresh air would help him to think. He sparked a Black & Mild and strolled down Market Street, navigating through the clusters of people who were roaming in and out of the various stores that seemed to be springing up like weeds. With the way new stores were popping up every other week, Market Street was starting to look like a miniature version of 125th Street in Harlem. The city was calling it
gentrification
—creating a beautified Newark—and it went over well with those not in the know, but to those who did, it was putting a Band-Aid over an already infected wound and hoping it didn't get any worse.

By the time the fire had eaten its way down to the filter of the Black, Domo was approaching his neighborhood. He was originally from South Fourteenth Street off Eighteenth Avenue, but his current residence was the second-floor apartment of a two-family house near Lincoln Park. The block he lived on was relatively quiet, but you could go two streets in either direction and find yourself in the middle of some shit. His mother had moved them out of the old neighborhood right around the time Domo had come of recruiting age for the local set. She thought that if she got him out of the neighborhood that she could save Domo from going down the same path his brother had, but unbeknownst to her, Domo had already been on the hood for a year. When you grew up in certain hoods, you either claimed whatever gang controlled that area or you moved. Everybody who was part of his set he had either grown up with or played ball with, so making it
official
only solidified the bond they already shared. Unlike some kids who joined gangs for protection or to fit in, Domo got down because it felt like the natural thing to do.