Down by Law (17 page)

F
unky fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party...
blasted from the deejay's turntable as I glided into the park, nodding my head to the music and refusing to let thoughts of Yvette wreck my flow.

The sun was shining, the park was packed, and as usual this was the place to be. The B-boys were doing their thing on the cardboard, the D-boys were shootin' dice. The basketball court was in the midst of a pick-up game, and everybody else was just chillin' and vibing to the music.

“What's up, sexy?” The deejay smiled and nodded his head at me.

I smiled back, and swayed a little to the tune he'd just dropped. “I'm just chillin', listening to the music, trying to see what you over here doing.” I put a little extra boom in my bop, to make it seem like his deejaying was just that crazy. “Do you scratch?”

“Do I?” He showcased his skills.

“Yo, that was stupid fresh. Straight ill. You did that.”

He grinned. “So what you got goin' on?”

“Well, right now I'm checking you out, tryna see what you about.”

He blushed. “Well, if you hand over them digits, then you can get to know me.”

I rocked to the beat for a moment. I knew if I could get the deejay to buy a few bags of bud from me, then the rest would be gravy. Especially since the deejay was the heart of the party, and if he liked me and my weed, then I knew it was only a matter of time before he rounded up some clientele for me.

“I tell you what, cat daddy. I'll drop them digits for you after you buy a few bags of this bud from me.” I winked and moved my shoulders to the beat.

“Bud? You got some weed? Word? What you got?”

“I got nickel bags of kush. It's that good smoke too. Straight from Cali. West Side, Loc. You feel me?” I slid a bag out of my pouch and handed it to him.

He stuck his nose to the bag and sucked in the weed's aroma. “Yoooooo, this right here is decent.” He looked at one of his boys, who was diggin' through his record crates. “Yo, smell that.” He handed him the weed.

“Oh, I got to hit this,” his boy said.

I stepped up and said, “I got five-dollar bags. How much you need?”

The deejay handed me forty dollars and I gave them eight bags of weed.

“I tell you what,” the deejay said. “They call me Cuddy and I'm always giving a party. And if you give me a percentage, then I'll keep you in business and make sure you're at er' party that I throw. You think you can handle that?”

“Heck yeah.”

“Bet.”

“A'ight, I'll get up witchu.” I wrote my beeper number down on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He winked and said, “I see you, ma.”

I waved bye and worked my way over to the B-Boy side. And after I sold them a few bags, I headed for the basketball court, where I completely sold out.

I looked at my beeper and I just knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I'd sold all of my weed in three hours flat.

Right about now, I didn't care who was looking, I straight broke out into the Pac-Man and just about moon-walked to my car.

 

I did everything I could to wipe the smile off of my face, so that I could walk in the apartment looking somber.

I opened the apartment door, and Fresh was sitting on the couch with one of his boys, Saladeen.

Sal nodded.

“Wassup,” I said, flat, trying to be extra careful so my voice didn't elevate.

“You good, baby?” Fresh asked. “You back awfully soon. You a'ight?”

“Yeah, I'm good.” I pulled a wad of money from my pouch and slid it in his hand. “Half for your payment and the other half for me to re-up. And I'ma need a half a pound this time.”

Fresh smiled, the hardest I'd ever seen. “I see your work.”

I leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Told you I had this.”

A
fter two weeks of killin' it at the park and at Cuddy's parties, I'd made over five thousand dollars. Fresh was straight lovin' my contribution to what he called the family business. And I had to admit, I was feelin' it myself. And although Fresh always kept me fly, I was on my way to kicking things up a notch, from fly to fabulous.

Fresh told me I was making too much money not to have a gun on me. So I carried a little pearl-handle twenty-two in my high-top and I also went back to tucking a blade along the side of my cheek. There were even some nights, when I was pulling in so much money that I had to hire a bodyguard to travel with me. Which was part of the reason Fresh put the word out that I was his girl so everybody on the streets would know who I hustling with.

Hell, we were the Bonnie and Clyde of this thing here, and I planned to keep it that way.

“You ready for school today, baby?” He pulled me in for a kiss as I set his breakfast plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him.

“Yeah, I'm stupid hyped!” I said, now packing three lunch boxes with four jars of peanut butter, each stuffed with a sandwich baggie filled with nickel bags of weed.

“You taking all that to school?”

“Yup.”

“And you sure about your crew?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Cali and Munch are the two most loyal chicks I know. They my homies. Like family.”

“Make sho'.”

“They good.”

“A'ight. And make sure you run down the rules. If either one of them hesitate or question you, dead it. And tell 'em up front they can't hustle with you. It's a'ight to be cool with your crew, but you gotta let 'em know at all times, that you're in charge. And that's bottom line.”

“Fresh, baby.” I slung two backpacks over my shoulder. “I got this. Now let me get it.”

I hopped in the Chevette and drove over to Da Bricks to pick up Cali and Munch. I'd already called their house last night and told 'em I was picking them up so hopefully they would be outside waiting for me.

When I pulled up, the first person I saw was Yvette. She didn't notice me though. She walked up to one of the dope boys. They exchanged a loaded fist bump, and she quickly rushed back into the building.

“You gon' open the door or what?” Cali said, as she knocked on the car window.

I hit the automatic locks and let them in. “Y'all see Yvette?” I asked.

“I did,” Munch said.

“She don't even speak to me no more,” Cali said. “She got some new chicks she hang with now.”

“I just saw her cop,” I said, doing my all to swallow the sting that came along with saying that.

“Yeah, she be out here all the time,” Munch said, and we all fell into an awkward moment of silence.

“Enough of that,” Cali insisted. “Now let's talk about this money you called us about last night.”

“I don't even know what it is and I'm all in.” Munch popped her lips.

I started the car and took off up the street. “A'ight, dig. First of all understand that in order to do this you gotta be true to this.”

“I hope you not talking about boosting,” Cali said. “'Cause Yvette was the only one who could pull that off. I can't do that. I ain't cut out for going to jail, and especially behind no underwear. No, ma'am.”

“Would you be quiet?” I said, stopping at a red light. “Ain't noooooobody up in here tryna boost. With the money we can make, we can buy our own gear.”

“So get to it. What we gotta do?” Munch asked.

“I'm 'bout to take y'all to the next level,” I said.

“How?” they asked simultaneously.

“Hustle. Sell weed.” The light changed to green.

They both froze and looked at me strangely. “You serious?” Cali asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where we gon' post up at?” Munch asked. “You already know truancy will be stalkin' us if we missin' school to be on the block.”

I smiled. “Don't even sweat that. We not gon' be on the block. We gon' bring the block to us. We gon' hustle right here in school.” I pulled into the parking lot.

“In school?” Cali looked amazed. “Yo, for real?”

“Heck yeah,” I said. “This spot here is a whooooooooole untapped market and we 'bout to seize it.”

“Who we sellin' for?”

A smile lit up my face. “Ourselves.”

“Not Fresh?”

“Nope. He's just the connect.”

“So when we gon' start?” Munch asked, hyped.

“Right now.” I reached for my backpack and handed them each a lunch box.

“What's this?” Cali opened the container. “Peanut butter. I 'on't eat no peanut butter! Oh, I thought we was better than this.”

“Cali.”

“What?”

“Shut. Up, and listen. Now. Inside those jars, after you scoop the first few spoonfuls of peanut butter off the top is a sandwich bag filled with nickel bags of weed.”

“Oh, hell yeah! This is crazeeeeee!” Munch said, excited.

“Now listen, this is how we gon' do this. We gon' all take a floor. It's only three floors in the school and it's three of us. Whatever floor your homeroom is on, that's your floor. So I got one. Munch, you got?”

“Three.”

I looked over at Cali. “And you got?”

“Two.”

“So we only sell weed on our assigned floor?” Munch asked.

“Yep.” I nodded. “We gon' run this just like the block and each floor is your corner. You got your corner and I got mine. Now, I want you to give one bag, only. A sample bag, to the biggest weed heads y'all know. That's gon' build up our clientele and I guarantee by this afternoon—”

“We gon' have this whole school on lock,” Cali interjected.

“And you know it!” I gave her a high five. “Now, it's some rules to this.”

“Rules?” Cali frowned.

“Rules,” I said. “Er'body got rules, Catherine. So let me break it down. Rule number one: Don't be braggin' 'bout the dough you make. 'Cause it only takes one broke and jealous ho to call five-oh and then we got a problem.”

I looked at Munch and Cali, and they both nodded.

I continued, “Rule number two: No credit. If they ask, walk away and tell 'em to come back another day. Rule number three: Don't take no work to class. Period. All work stays in your locker, in the peanut butter jars.”

“How we gon' do that?”

“First you get the cash. Then you go to yo' stash. Meet them somewhere safe to make the pass. And walk away from 'em.”

“Rule number four is the most important rule of all: Have my money. Period. All of it. Fresh is my man, but this weed ain't free and he wants his cut up front. Now we all family and we all gotta eat. But. I will beat you like a ho in the street if my dough needs Columbo. Feel me?”

They laughed.

“I'm serious.”

“A'ight.” They nodded. “We got you.”

A smile lit up my face. “Now, let's go get paid!”

 

B
ack to life... back to reality . . .
boomed through my hot-pink baby Benz's system, as I rolled up in front of Da Bricks to scoop my crew.

For the last six months, we'd been living life like something outta a movie. We was gettin' money hand over fist.

Throwin' parties.

Hanging out at all the clubs. Mph, with the money we was makin', age was no longer a factor.

We'd even became cool with some rappers and were gettin' backstage passes on the regular.

And gear? Psst. Please.

We had a tailor.

Rocked Chanel bags.

Louie V.

MCM.

Furs in every color.

Fresh kicks for every day of the week, six-inch heels for the weekend.

And not only that, we had a sweet, sweet stash not just in one safe, but in two safes for each of us.

The only thing that I had that Munch and Cali didn't was a car, and that's because they didn't know how to drive. Within a few weeks, we'd be changing all of that.

Me and my girls was making moves all over Newark. Not only was we hustling in school, but we branched out to the basketball and the football games. We served at all of Cuddy's parties.

Fresh was super proud of me, and all he'd say was, “Damn, baby, you in the game now.”

“Isis, what, you don't know me no more?” I looked up and Yvette was leaning against the passenger side of the car, looking at me through the window. She was a hundred pounds, at most. Her collarbone stuck out and her eyes seemed to sink into her cheeks. She had an odor and her too-big clothes looked like she'd been wearing them for the last week.

I sucked my teeth. “No, I don't know you. All I know is your name. The chick that I used to know died in a pipe dream.”

“No, it ain't like that. I'm clean. I'll admit that I went through some things, but I've changed. I'm clean. I ain't with Flip no more. You was right about him. He ain't nothin'. I shouldn't have ever let him come between us. We family, right?”

“You mean family friends.”

“Okay . . . okay. Maybe I deserve that. But, umm, this what I wanna know. I wanna know if you'll let me get down with you and Cali and Munch.” She looked up at them and smiled, and that's when I noticed that they were at the car. She took a step back and let them get in.

“Y'all gettin' money, looking good, and I just wanna be a part of it. That's it.”

“What? You better get outta here with that. Go sit down somewhere. When I came to you, before I went to anybody else, you cussed me out and told me no. You said you had your hustle. Boosting. Now go boost and be up outta my face. We got this and no, you can't get it.”

“To hell wit' you, Isis! You always thought you was better than somebody! Always thought somebody needed you!”

“You needed me. And I used to need you. We was all we had. But now you out there in the streets with a monkey on your back and you think I'ma put you down. Hell no!” Tears filled my eyes and I quickly wiped them away. “Know what, you better back up and move out my way or I'ma run you over!”