Diamonds and Pearl (13 page)

“Yeah, and I heard you, but not everybody speaks the same language. It never hurts to have a translator.”

*   *   *

An hour or so later Knowledge and Power were pulling up in front of Astoria Houses. Knowledge had purposely arrived fifteen minutes earlier than he'd told Born he would meet him, but he arrived to find him already on the avenue, waiting for him, and he wasn't alone. Four men were with him, two of which Knowledge knew well—Freedom and Lakim—and one he only knew in passing, a kid named Daou. They were all associates of Born, so it wasn't unusual for them to be with him, but the fourth man he did not expect. Judging by the way he was looking over at Knowledge, he was just as surprised and not in a good way.

“Yo, ain't that…,” Power began.

“Yup,” Knowledge said, and got out of the car. Power followed a few feet behind. “Peace, peace, peace.” Knowledge dapped, Daou, Freedom, and Lakim, respectively.

“Knowledge, what's good, sun?” Lakim greeted him with a warm smile. He was a short, pudgy dude with a goatee and gold caps covering his bucked top teeth.

“Out here trying to get a dollar like everyone else.” He was speaking to Lakim, but his eyes were on the man standing next to him. Born was older than Knowledge and the others, but the man with him was older still. Wearing a do-rag, baggy hoody, jeans, Timbs, and a gold chain that was probably fake or stolen, he looked like a washed-up rapper trying to rediscover his youth. From the guilty expression on his face, he was clearly up to no good, but that was nothing new when it came to Rolling.

“Peace, youngster,” Born spoke up, drawing his attention away from Rolling. He was wearing a tracksuit and a Yankees fitted cap turned backward.

“What up, OG?” Knowledge embraced him. He didn't miss the fact that during their hug, Born let his hand casually run down his back, checking him for a weapon. No doubt he felt the 9mm tucked in the rear of his belt and would think twice if he had been pondering some funny shit. “How you be?”

“I'm good, just out here shooting the shit with a few friends. Y'all two know each other, don't you?” Born patted Rolling on the back sarcastically.

Rolland Stone aka Rolling was the older brother of Big Stone and the black sheep of the family. He wasn't as heavy as Big Stone was on the streets, but he was a player in the game. In fact, Rolling played every game. From drugs to heist to murder, his paper chase knew no limitations and he wasn't above crossing you in the process. This was why Big Stone didn't fuck with Rolling like that. He was a man with no honor who would step over his own mother in the name of a dollar.

Rolling gave Born a sour look for being funny, before mustering his best plastic smile for Knowledge. “Sup, nephew?”

“Neither one of my parents had any brothers,” Knowledge replied, not bothering to hide his contempt for Rolling. “Your brother know you back in New York?”

“No, I just got back a few days ago and haven't had a chance to reach out. I was gonna come by the house later on today to check him,” Rolling lied. He had no intentions of going by the house. In fact, he didn't even want Big Stone to know he was back in the city, but he was sure Knowledge would blow his spot the first chance he got.

“Who's your friend?” Born's eyes were on something just beyond Knowledge.

Knowledge looked back at Power, who was standing just beyond the group. “That's Power. You remember him, right?”

Born studied him for a minute as if he were trying to place his face. He had put on nearly sixty pounds since the last time he'd seen him, but he remembered Power. He had been the little white boy with the big heart. Power would throw hands with anybody, anywhere, no matter their size, but Born really knew who Power was. He remembered him as the pale firecracker from the old neighborhood who was always throwing down to prove himself. He would fight anybody anywhere. “Yeah, I see you two are still hanging tough.”

“You know mind detects mind,” Power replied, letting him know he and Knowledge were of the same types of thinking. “The gods gotta hold each other down.”

The statement drew muffled snickers from those who had heard it.

“Something funny?” Power asked.

No one spoke up at first, but when Born saw Power's face turn angry, he interjected to keep the peace. “Don't take it like that, Power. It's just that it ain't too often you hear a white man refer to himself as a god,” he explained.

“Yeah, that title is an honor deserved by the true and living, not a genetic experiment,” Daou spat.

Knowledge saw what no one else did: the change in Power's demeanor when Daou insulted him. It was subtle, the tightening of his jaw and his blue eyes turning a dull gray. As easily as someone pulling on a coat, Power had slipped into his old skin. This usually meant violence would follow. But as tempted as he was to let Power smash Daou, it would make an already bad situation worse. “Power.”

Power turned his head slowly in Knowledge's direction. His eyes burned with rage pleading to be let loose. Knowledge shook his head, letting him know it wasn't the time or place. Reluctantly, Power stood down. “You got it, Knowledge.… You got it.” He backed away. Power walked off and sat on the hood of the car, fuming.

“I see your boy still has that hot-ass temper,” Born said.

“Nah, Power just doesn't tolerate disrespect, and he's not the only one.” Knowledge's tone turned serious. “I need a word with you, Born. In private.” He cut his eyes at Rolling.

“I gotta get out of here anyway. I need to go check my baby mama,” Rolling said, taking the hint and the opportunity to get out of there.

“Which one? You got about ten of them,” Knowledge said sarcastically, but there was some truth to it. Rolling had kids by at least five women who he knew of and didn't take care of any of them. This added to his legacy of being a world-class piece of shit.

Rolling ignored his insult and made a quick exit.

“Since when did you and Rolling become so friendly?” Knowledge asked Born.

“Rolling is just a means to an end, same as everybody else.” Then Born cut to the chase. “Now, what was so important that you couldn't talk to me about it on the phone?”

“Stacey,” Knowledge said.

Born chuckled. “I figured this subject would come up sooner or later. I just didn't expect to be having this conversation with you.”

“Born, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have come, but Big Stone insisted.” He shrugged. “So here I am.”

Born shook his head in disappointment. “Knowledge, how long have we known each other?”

“I've known you for what feels like forever. You were my enlightener and the man who gave me the lessons,” Knowledge said respectfully.

“That's right. When you were a running around here like a savage, it was me who opened your eyes to the world and its endless possibilities. I taught you how to use your brains rather than your pistols, but more important, I always taught you to be your own man, which is why this is kind of disappointing to me.”

“I'm always my own man,” Knowledge said confidently.

“Then why are you out here stepping to me for the next nigga, over a bitch who none of us has papers on?” Born challenged.

“It ain't like that, Born. It's just that Big Stone feels like it ain't a good look for the both of you to be fucking the same broad. Me, I could care less, but you know how Stone is,” Knowledge explained.

“Indeed I do. That greedy-ass old nigga think that the world and everything in it belongs to him,” Born spat.

“Born, I know what with all the money you getting, you ain't pressed for no pussy. There're a million chicks out here you could be fucking, so you ain't gonna miss out on nothing by leaving Stacey alone,” Knowledge said, stroking Born's ego.

“You're only saying that because Stacey ain't never put her mouth on you. I swear that broad is top three when it comes to giving head. I can kinda understand why Big Stone is salty,” Born joked. “But seriously, it ain't even about Stacy. That little bitch is a slut and willing to set it out to whoever got a few dollars to offer her. This is about Big Stone always overplaying his stroke. When I came home and found out he gave my turf to some other nigga and banished me out here to Queens, I didn't complain. I sucked it up and made the best of it. But now he's not only telling me where I can hustle, but trying to tell me who I can fuck?” He shook his head. “C'mon, Knowledge, I gotta draw the line somewhere.”

“I feel you on that,” Knowledge said honestly. He hated to admit it, but Born was right. The way Big Stone was carrying it over Stacey was beyond petty, and he felt like a fool for even stepping to Born over it. He didn't really care if they resolved it or not, so long as he could tell Big Stone he had done what he'd asked. “So what do you want me to tell Big Stone?”

“Honestly? I don't really care what you tell him. I ain't gonna pursue Stacey, but I ain't gonna turn her away either if she comes sniffing around for some more of this dick.”

“Fair enough. A'ight, I'm gonna get outta here.”

“Bet, I'm gonna walk you to your car,” Born said.

They two of them were walking back to Knowledge's car, making small talk when Daou said something that gave Knowledge pause.

“Yo, next time you come through Queens, leave that devil back in Harlem,” Daou called after him.

Knowledge stopped and turned around. “What did you just call him?”

“I called him what he is, a fucking devil!” Daou repeated.

Without warning, Knowledge slapped blood out of Daou. He didn't go down with the first one, so he gave him two more and put him on his ass. Freedom and Lakim looked like they wanted to flex, but before they could, Power was on them with his .45.

“Don't make me do it to you,” Power warned them. There was no doubt in any of their minds that the white boy would make good on his threat, so they wisely fell back.

“What the fuck is wrong with y'all?” Born stepped between them. “Y'all be cool,” he told Lakim and Freedom before turning back to Knowledge. “Man, you know better than to be coming around here, making my spot hot with this gunplay shit. Get in your car before these dudes decide to do something stupid. And take that crazy fucking white boy with you!”

“I'm not white!” Power corrected him.

“What-the-fuck-ever—just go!” Born snapped. Knowledge was walking around to get behind the wheel when Born had some parting words for him. “Knowledge, I know you ain't a kid no more, but you always gonna be my lil man, so I'm gonna drop a jewel on you: While your boss is out here worrying about who a nigga is fucking, he might wanna pay a bit more attention to the real problem that's developing right under his nose.”

“What you mean by that?” Knowledge asked defensively. Born's words almost sounded like a threat.

Born raised his hands in surrender. “Calm down, Knowledge. All I'm saying is that I'm not the enemy. I got love for you and Big Stone, but that doesn't mean everybody feels the same way. Look, man, I'm telling you this out of love: the streets are talking, and I hear something is brewing in Harlem. I'm not sure what it is, but it's big enough to have all the top dogs moving real careful lately. Maybe you should convince Big Stone to follow suit.”

Knowledge laughed. “Appreciate the advice, old head, but we ain't never run into a problem we couldn't handle. Big Stone got Harlem under control; you worry about Queens,” he capped, and then peeled off.

Born stood there, watching the smoke from Knowledge's tires. He really did have love for the youngster, but Knowledge's head was too far up Big Stone's ass to see it. A sad look crossed Born's face as he reflected on what was to come. “That's the problem with some niggas. You can tell them it's about to rain, but they gotta get wet to believe it.”

 

PART

III

A SWARM OF LOCUSTS

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

TJ had always been big and tall for his age. By the time he turned twelve, he was already five ten, and now, at twenty-two, he was six foot three and built like a professional athlete. Whenever he went out, he was usually the biggest amongst his friends, but in the presence of Eddie Costas, TJ felt very small.

“I don't know, TJ. This shit all sounds a little too sweet,” Eddie said, picking the dirt from under fingernails with a large hunting knife. Eddie was a portly man with a soft voice and a vicious nature. He was an old-school Puerto Rican and a holdover from the old regime of the late eighties. Eddie and his crew had managed to lock down several key drug blocks over the years and were flooding the streets with heroin. He controlled a large slice of Washington Heights, but that wasn't enough for Eddie. He envisioned himself being the next Pablo Escobar and controlling the Latino drug market in New York City. There was only one thing standing in his way … Pana Suarez.

Pana Suarez was a wild-ass dude who the Mexican government had exiled to America so they didn't have to deal with him anymore. When he arrived in the United States, he got even worse. Pana had assembled a team of young killers who were just as crazy as he was, and he'd been wreaking havoc on the streets of New York for the last few years. He primarily operated out on several blocks that were just south of the Heights, which is part of the reason why Eddie hadn't been able to expand.

“Eddie, I'm telling you: this shit is official,” TJ assured him. “Pana and his whole clique will be out of the way, and you'll be free to distribute heroin in the territory he once controlled, provided my people are taken care of for the work they're gonna put in. I think a discounted rate on the wholesale prices would be fair and still keep money in your pocket.”

“I'll finally be rid of Pana and make a few dollars in the process.” Eddie scratched his chin, weighing the offer. “TJ, this is very tempting, but I think you're forgetting one thing: Pana ain't so easy to kill. Trust me—I've been trying for years. There was even talk of some Haitians who sent a whole crew of shooters after Pana, and none of them came back.”