Eastside (8 page)

In a House on Colorado Street

“Hand me the Pyrex,” Darius told him.

Travon walked to the kitchen table, grabbed a long glass dish, and handed it to Darius. Darius took the dish, poured half a kilogram of cocaine into it, and then walked to the sink. He sat the Pyrex dish on the counter next to him, then opened a cupboard and removed a glass. He filled the glass with lukewarm water and then handed it to Travon, who was standing just behind him, watching his every move.

Darius grabbed the Pyrex dish from the counter and carried it to the kitchen table, where he sat it down. Travon followed with the glass of water and placed it next to the Pyrex dish.

“Open that box of baking soda on the counter, and bring it here,” Darius commanded.

Travon did as he was told. Darius poured some onto a triple beam scale, which had also been sitting on the table. He turned to Travon.

“This is about how much baking soda you need for a half a key.”

Travon nodded.

Darius lifted the Pyrex, and held it near the scale. He then gently raked the baking soda into the dish with the cocaine, whereupon he carefully stirred the mixture with his index finger.

“Tre, hand me that spatula.”

Travon lifted a rubber spatula from off of the counter and placed it in his cousin's waiting hand. Darius sat the Pyrex dish on the table and carefully began to add water from the glass, all the while stirring gently with the spatula.

“Cut on the two burners on the left side,” Darius ordered, pointing toward the stove.

He continued to nurse his mixture, stirring gently, and adding water when necessary. When finally his mixture reached the desired consistency, he carried the off-white, pasty substance to the stove, where he placed it on top of the two lit burners. He then turned and smiled at his cousin.

“I'm the best at this,” Darius boasted.

On the stove, his pasty mixture began to melt into an oily, yellowish liquid, as he stirred with increasing speed.

“Tre, hand me that jar that I brought from the house,” Darius ordered.

Travon lifted the jar into the air and examined it. “What is this shit?”

“That's how we win, boy!” Darius announced excitedly. “It's vitamin B-12. It blows up the dope, so you get more. It's like putting yeast in a biscuit. Don't worry, I'm gonna teach you how to win! If it's one thing your kinfolk is, it's a winner.”

Darius poured some of the powdery substance into his oily mixture, and stirred until everything was blended perfectly. Then he turned off the burners on the stove.

“We gotta let it cool down now,” he told Travon. “Then we'll cut it up, weigh it, and bag it.”

One Hour Later

Travon and Darius removed the hardened substance from the stove, and placed it on a large plate that was sitting on the table. Also on the table was a scale, several other plates, a bag of razor blades, a box of sandwich bags, and a large plastic grocery sack. Darius removed one of the razor blades from the bag, and peeled off its protective paper cover.

“Now is the fun part,” Darius announced.

Marcus breezed into the room carrying a large bucket, which he sat on the floor next to Darius.

“What's that for?” Travon asked, pointing at the bucket.

“It's acid,” Marcus told him. “Just in case the task force tries to run in on us.”

“Yeah.” Darius nodded. “We can dump this shit in a hurry. This is about a life sentence in the Feds, and I ain't trying to give them hoes that long. I really ain't trying to give 'em nothing!”

Marcus left to resume his station at the living room window. Travon and Darius turned their attention back to the hard, brittle substance on the table.

The crack was sitting on a plate, in three large, thick, yellowish-white slabs. Darius took two slabs and put them on a separate plate, to get them out of the way. He then took his single-edge razor blade and began to cut on the third. Each cut with the tip of his blade made the substance snap precisely into several large pieces. He placed each piece on the scale, and then cut or added smaller pieces until the scale read twenty-eight grams.

“Tre, bag these up as I give them to you. Each one of the sandwich baggies will have an ounce in it.”

Travon removed the pieces from the scale, placed them into a small plastic sandwich bag, and tied the bag up tightly. He then took a razor blade, peeled off its protective paper cover, and used it to cut off the excess plastic from each of the sandwich bags.

“It's still a little bit wet,” Travon told Darius.

“I know it ain't all the way dry, that's why we're baggin' it now. We want to keep in as much of the moisture as possible, because that's part of how you win. If they weigh it, it'll come out to twenty-eight grams, because of the water. But it's not really twenty-eight grams of dope. Them fools is paying for the water too!” Darius howled a sinister laugh. “I'ma teach you all the tricks of the trade, so that you can come up.”

Darius turned his attention to the table, where he counted out twenty-six ounces, each bagged separately. He lifted eight of them into the air.

“These are the overs, Tre,” he announced. “I'ma give Marcus one for looking out, and I'm a take three for cooking. These twenty-two are yours. We gotta give the dope fiend all of the crumbs for letting us cook here.” Darius pointed to a plate full of small white chips. “That's about a sixteenth right there. That ought to keep his ass happy.”

Travon lifted the ounces up to the light and examined them. “What do you think I ought to charge for each one of these?”

Darius shrugged. “Shit, charge seven hundred to the homies, and seven fifty or eight to the rest of them niggaz. Ain't nothing out there right now but boo-boo, for four and five hundred.”

Travon quickly calculated the figures inside of his head. Seven hundred dollars, multiplied by twenty-two, was fifteen thousand, four hundred dollars. Plus, another thirty-five hundred dollars for the ounces that Dejuan had given him, and the six thousand dollars in cash that he found in his brother's room, made twenty-four thousand, nine hundred dollars. It was a car and a down payment on a house for his mother. But, what if he didn't get rid of it in bulk? What if he broke the ounces down to twenty-dollar pieces, and sold those pieces himself? How much could he make then?

“D, how much do you think I could make if I cut these up, and sold them stone for stone?”

“Shit!” Darius recoiled. “Probably about two Gs apiece.”

The mathematical side of Travon's brain shifted into overdrive once again. Two thousand dollars, multiplied by twenty-seven, was fifty-four thousand dollars, plus the six thousand dollars that he had from his brother made sixty thousand dollars.

“Fuck,” Travon whispered. He could buy his mother a house in the Heights, probably one close to his Aunt Vera's, and he could move back home. But first, he would have to get a job, or at least make his mother think that he had a job. But where?

It was something that he would have to think about later. For now, there were other details to work out. Again, he turned to Darius.

“Say, D, how long do you think it would take for me to sell all of this shit rock for rock?”

“What? Stone for stone, are you crazy?” Darius shook his head. “The object of the game is to move that shit as fast as you can, and then re-up.”

“Yeah, but from who?” Travon asked. “Do you think Dejuan will be kind enough to let me score from him after I just got him for five ounces?”

“Good point,” Darius conceded. “But there are other niggaz you could score from. Shit, you could score from Big Pimpin, Lil Bling, or any one of the other homies who are up.”

Travon shook his head. “I want to do this a different way. So how long do you think it'll take?”

“To move one zone, it'll probably take you about three days, because everybody out here is pumping. But on the first and fifteenth, shit, it be rolling! You could probably sell about an ounce a day from the thirteenth to the third, and from the fourteenth to the sixteenth.”

“So, I could probably sell about ten a month?”

“Maybe.” Darius shrugged. “But you gotta grind your ass off. Straight hustling, and no sleeping.”

Travon shifted his gaze to the white clumps lying on the table. They held his future. They controlled his destiny. Again, he began to calculate.

In roughly four months he could have the money to move his mother out of the Courts, he thought. In four months, he could change his life dramatically.

“Tre, I know that you're not thinking what I think you are thinking.”

Travon smiled. “Yep.”

“Shit.” Darius shook his head. “Well, if you are serious, I think I know a good spot in the hood that ain't hot. We could probably set it up, and eventually get it jumpin.'”

Travon nodded. “Cool, I'm down.” He and Darius clasped each other's hand, and then hugged.

Marcus strolled into the room. “Y'all ain't done yet?” He stretched and yawned. “Y'all need to hurry the fuck up!”

Later That Evening

“Hello?”

“Momma, what are you doin'?” Travon asked.

“Nothing,” Elmira replied. “How are you doing, baby?”

“I'm doin' good,” Travon told her. “I even got some good news for you.”

“Oh, really? I was just about to call you and share some good news with you.”

“What?”

“Naw, you first, baby,” Elmira told him. “What's your good news?”

“I got a job,” Travon announced.

“Oh, baby, that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you! Where are you working at?”

“I'm working at the neighborhood grocery store. You know Mrs. Chang?”

“Oh, baby, that just made my day! That really is the icing on the cake. I knew that everything would start working out for us. You just have to keep the faith.”

“What's your good news?” Travon asked.

“Well, remember that program that Chicken went through to become an RN?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I just got my acceptance letter in the mail today! I'm going to be working and going to school at the Humana Women and Children's Hospital! It's right downtown on the bus line, and they are paying me to go to school and get my RN.”

“That's good, Momma!”

“Guess what else? Part of the program is, I'm going to be working for them as a nurse's aide from six until three; then from four to seven, I'll be attending classes right there in the hospital!”

“Momma, I'm so happy for you!”

“Happy for me? You should be happy for us! It only takes two years, and then I'm finished. The only thing is, I'll have to work for them for another four years before I can get another job. But I don't mind, because they are gonna be paying me more than I'm making right now anyway. It pays thirteen dollars an hour, and once I finish school, it goes up to thirty dollars an hour! Momma is going to be able to save, and get us a car, and get the hell outta these Courts. I can't wait for you to come and stay with me again.”

“It'll be sooner than you think,” Travon muttered under his breath.

“What's that, baby?”

“Nothin', Momma.”

Weeks Later

“Tre, where are you and Tamika going tonight?” Aunt Vera shouted into the living room.

“We're goin' to the movies again,” Travon answered from the front door, about to exit.

Aunt Vera strolled into the living room wiping her wet hands on the apron tied around her waist.

“Tre, are you and that girl getting serious?” Vera asked.

“Well, I don't know, Aunt V. We have been kickin' it pretty tough lately, now that I think about it.” Travon peered off into space, and nodded. “She's pretty cool.”

Vera's expression turned serious. “Tre, you just better be careful. You know that stuff is out there.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “Don't bring home nothing you ain't left with, and that includes a baby!”

The color bled from Travon's cheeks, and he shifted his gaze to the floor. “I won't, Aunt V.”

“That's the same thing that Chicken's fast-tail gal said, and she done already made me a great-aunt at the age of thirty-eight.”

Travon folded his arms and tilted his head to the side. “Thirty-nine.”

Vera balled her hand into a tight fist and waved it at him. “Oh, you want to get fly out the mouth, huh? If I want to be thirty-eight in my own damn house, then I can be thirty-eight!”

Travon laughed, rushed to his aunt, and kissed her. “Thanks, Aunt V.”

Vera lifted her hand to her face and touched the spot on her cheek where she had been kissed. “What was all that for? Am I going to die or something?” She waved toward the kitchen. “Hell, Darius just came into the kitchen and started washing the dishes for me, and it ain't even his night. Marcus is up in his room sleep, and LaTonya ain't going out tonight because she says that she has to study! Lord, what have you kids done?”

Travon laughed. “Nothing, Aunt V.”

A car horn sounded.

“That's my ride,” Travon said, opening the door.

“Tre, baby,” Vera paused, and stared at Travon sadly. “Just be careful.”

“I will, Aunt V,” Travon whispered. “I promise.” He bounded out of the front door and down the porch steps.

“Tre, before I forget,” Vera called out to him. “I just want to let you know that when you get home, we are gonna talk about you climbing in the window at six o'clock this morning.”

Travon smiled at his aunt. He hadn't realized that he had been caught.

Vera frowned. “Be back before two, or have a damn good excuse when you walk into this house!” The scowl left her face just as quickly as it had appeared. She lifted her arm and waved. “Have a good time.”

Travon climbed into the vehicle, and immediately leaned forward and kissed Tamika passionately.

“Hey, baby.” Tamika smiled.

Travon nodded. “Hey, what's up?”

“This.” Tamika leaned over the seat and kissed him passionately. By the time she finished, she was breathing heavily; Travon found that he had stiffened considerably.

“Hey, y'all cut that out!” Varika told them. “My man ain't here with me, so I'm a cock block.”

Travon smiled at Varika, and then began to examine his surroundings. They were in a different vehicle tonight, and it piqued his curiosity. Varika usually picked him up in her Hyundai, and he had never seen her drive this burgundy Camry before.

“What happened to the other car?” Travon asked.

“It's at home,” Varika told him. “I just wanted to drive my Camry tonight.”

“When did you get this one?” Travon asked.

“I been had it,” Varika answered. “I just don't want to put a whole lot of miles on it.”

Travon turned and stared out of the window. They were getting on the highway, which was normal, but they were heading in the wrong direction. He leaned forward and tapped Varika on her shoulder.

“Say, ain't you going in the wrong direction?”

Varika shook her head. “No. I forgot something at my apartment. It won't take long.”

Travon shifted in his seat, trying to reassure himself by ensuring that his handgun was tucked securely in his waistband. After a few moments, he shifted again, this time discreetly moving his hand across the handle of the Beretta. Tamika could tell that he was uncomfortable.

“Tre, just chill and enjoy the ride,” Tamika told him. She shifted her gaze to her sister, and offered a slight smile. Varika countered by giving Tamika a knowing wink. Travon caught it all.

Varika exited the highway after a while, and traveled two short blocks before turning into King's Row apartments.

Travon again shifted nervously in his seat. He knew the apartments. On the Northeast side of the city, they belonged to the Bloods who inhabited Sunrise and the Glens; two notoriously violent neighborhoods whose inhabitants had a reputation of defending what they considered to be their territory.

Varika pulled up to an apartment in the rear of the complex, parked, and handed Tamika a single key. Tamika leaned over the seat once again, and gave Travon a quick kiss on his cheek before exiting the vehicle and disappearing up a nearby staircase. Travon turned his attention to Varika.

“So, where your man at?”

“He's in the Army,” Varika answered.

Travon nodded. “That's cool. I thought about joining when I finish high school.”

“Why?” Varika laughed. “You can't rap, or play sports?”

Travon joined in the laughter. “Either rapping, playing sports, or the military.”

“Seems like those are the only ways out of the hood,” Varika said.

“You forgot one,” Travon added.

Varika's laughter slowly morphed into an engaging smile. “What other way is there?”

“Death.”

The smiles faded from both their faces as their thoughts drifted to long-lost friends and family members. The expressions on each of their faces revealed the buried but still painful scars within. Travon turned away, and peered out of the car window. He knew he had to change the subject.

“So, where is your man at now, and why you ain't with him?”

“He's in Georgia right now,” Varika replied. “But in two months he's coming back, and then we're going to Hawaii.”

“Hawaii!” Travon sat up, quickly becoming animated. “Shit, that's a mutherfuckin' win right there! Kicking it on the beach, watching the hoes walk by, waves crashing at your feet and shit. That shit is lovely.”

Varika faced Travon, her right eyebrow raised. “Why we got to be hoes?”

“Not you, you know what I mean.” A smile slowly crept across Travon's face. “Prostitutes.”

Varika shook her head and rolled her eyes toward the roof of her car. “Yeah, right. Prostitutes.”

Travon smiled again.

Varika turned toward her apartment. “Damn, what's taking this girl so long? Tre, could you go and tell that girl that I said hurry up.”

Travon nodded, and slowly climbed out of the vehicle. He closed the car door, rested his hand on the handle of his gun, and made his way up the stairs to Varika's apartment. He could hear music playing inside, but the apartment was dark.

Travon pushed open the door and slowly stepped inside. There were lit candles on the dining room table, and the thick sweet smell of incense permeated the air. The darkness was unnerving to him, and the sound of the car horn only served to rattle his nerves even more.

Travon rushed to the living room window and peered outside; only to see Varika's car pulling away. A pair of soft hands reached around his head and covered his eyes. He smelled Tamika.

Travon smiled, grabbed her hands, pulled them to his lips, and began to kiss them gently.

“Remember when I saw you walking down the street in the Heights, and me and my sister gave you a ride?” Tamika asked.

Travon turned and faced her. The realization of her nakedness startled him more than the car horn had. His eyes flew wide and he gasped.

Tamika placed her hand beneath Travon's chin, and pulled his face close to hers. Their lips locked, and her tongue entered into his mouth, and soon, into his ear. She could feel him throbbing against her naked thigh.

“Tamika, what's up with the setup?” Travon asked softly. “We could have just went to a room like we been doing.”

“Tre, I always wanted to steal you away,” Tamika whispered. “It's my fantasy, so just play along.”

They kissed again. Slowly, softly, at first, until their passion climbed to a fiery plateau. Breathing heavily, Tamika pulled away from Travon, and nodded toward her sister's bedroom. Her chest felt tight, and her breaths were heavy. She was ready.

“C'mon,” she whispered, taking Travon's hand and kissing it softly. Slowly, she turned and walked into the bedroom.

Travon stood in the living room, watching her taut, tan body stroll down the hall. She was beautiful in the candlelight Keith Sweat's “You May Be Young but You're Ready” began playing on the CD. The song made him shake his head and smile. Tamika had planned everything perfectly.

Travon entered the bedroom to find Tamika pulling the sheets down on the bed. He slowly began undressing.

“I wanted to do that,” Tamika told him. She smacked her lips and pouted.

Travon walked to where Tamika was standing and stopped just in front of her. Tamika sat down on the bed and began to undo Travon's pants.

“Tre, don't laugh,” she said, nervously. “But I want to try something.”

A smile slowly crept across Travon's face. “Go ahead.” He thought that he knew what she was going to do.

Tamika leaned forward, placed Travon's zipper between her lips, and unzipped his pants with her teeth. Travon laughed heartily, placed his hand over his private area, and stepped back. Tamika quickly joined in the laughter.

“Girl, you are silly,” Travon told her.

Smiling, Tamika climbed into the bed and patted the spot next to her. Travon quickly dispensed with the remainder of his clothing, and then joined her.

Travon's tongue slowly glided down Tamika's neck, causing her to lift her head and moan softly. It felt good to her. She thought his warm tongue to be magical. He moved slowly up her neck, and then up to her earlobe, where he began to nibble softly.

“That tickles,” Tamika whispered, as she wiggled away.

Travon's tongue glided slowly down her neck and onto her chest, where he began nibbling gently.

The sensation caused her to moan loudly. Travon moved from one breast to the other, engulfing her nipples, sucking, nibbling, and licking. Tamika could feel him throbbing against her leg. It made her yearn for him desperately.

“C'mon, Tre,” she whispered.

Travon smiled at Tamika, and continued his journey south. His tongue glided over her stomach, worked its way around her navel, until finally, he reached his destination. Tamika moaned loudly, and placed her hand on the back of his neck. His tongue glided across her, and she spread her legs father apart. Travon lashed out with his tongue, stroking her deeper and deeper with each passing, each time evoking a louder and more passionate cry. Tamika gripped his head tightly with both of her hands, and began to rotate, squirm, and gasp for air. Finally, she reached the summit of her passion, arching her back and stiffening for several moments.

“See what you did?” she told him softly. “Boy, I could kill you.”

Together, they laughed.

“Can I try something now?” Tamika asked.

Travon began his journey northward, licking and kissing Tamika all over her sweating body, until they were once again face-to-face.

“Lay back,” she ordered.

Travon lay back onto the bed, and Tamika began to kiss his neck softly. Pecking lightly, she slowly descended, licking his chest, and stopping briefly at his navel. Travon grabbed her arms, halting her descent.

“You don't have to do this, just because I did it to you,” he told her.

“I want to try it, Tre,” she told him. “So just lay back.”

Tamika continued to kiss Travon's lower body, until finally, he felt her around his manhood. His body shuddered, and he quickly grabbed her by her head.

“Oh, shit! Oh, Tamika!”

Tamika's tongue became playful around his privates. She tickled parts of him that he didn't know were sensitive. Soon, she engulfed him once more, and began to move in a rhythmic stroke that quickly had an effect on Travon. He had to grab her.

“Tamika, you'd better stop. Hold on, girl!”

Tamika laughed, and began to journey upward. When she reached his lips, they kissed passionately. Tamika straddled Travon, gently placed him inside of her, and began to move her body in a rhythmic, counterclockwise motion. He felt good to her, and she to him, grinding, thrusting, pumping, and moving their bodies in ways they had only recently discovered. Travon watched the moonlight creeping through the blinds dance across her glistening body, and was reminded of just how beautiful Tamika really was.