Finding Forever (3 page)

“What you doing later? I’m thinking about making a roast.” Trina slowly roamed through the clothes.

“I don’t know.”

“You should come over and have dinner with me and Malik. He would love to have you there.”

“And you wouldn’t?” Koran replied sarcastically.

“Did I say that? I wouldn’t mind you being there. To be honest wit you the house hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“C’mon on, T, don’t start.”

“Don’t start what?” She looked him dead in the eye. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss being there with us.”

“Of course I miss it sometimes. I was wit you for four years and you know how I love Malik.”

“Damn, it’s like that? You don’t love me?”

“I care about you, but you know it ain’t like that.”

“It’s not like that.” Trina stood back on one leg in disbelief. “Shit, I can’t tell. If it’s not like that then why you come over the other night? Why you tell me you love me?! Huh? But it’s supposed to be over? Koran, please even you don’t believe that shit!”

“Why the fuck you talkin’ so loud? I’m not about to do this ole’ ignorant ass shit wit you in public,” Koran snapped as his cell phone began to ring. “Hold up. Who dis?”

“O just called. They releasing him in an hour,” Sheek confirmed.

“A’ight meet me in front of my house in, like, twenty minutes. I’ma hop in the car wit you so we can go pick this nigga up.”

“A’ight.”

“One,” Koran hung up.

“So you just gon’ say fuck me, right?” Trina spat, pissed.

“Trina! What the fuck?! I told you I had something to do today.”

“How am I supposed to get home?”

“Oh my god,” Koran ran his hands down his face. “I told you to drive your own car, but you just had to ride wit me . . . so if you not talkin’ about leaving right now, then you gon’ have to catch a cab home, flat out.”

“Whateva, Koran.” She rolled her eyes and waved him off.

“Man, cut that bullshit out.” He grabbed her by the arm and made her face him. “Quit actin’ like a fuckin’ baby. I came wit you, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“A’ight then, well fix yo’ fuckin’ face? Here.” He handed her a stack of one hundred dollar bills. “That’s enough for you to get home and for you to buy yourself something. Tell Malik I love him.”

“Are you gon’ come over for dinner?” Trina called after him with a disappointed look on her face.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you later and let you know.”

AZ’s “Wanna Be There” played softly from the Alpine speakers inside Sheek’s Land Rover. He and Koran sat with the seats tilted back, puffing on a cigarillo stuffed with the finest Dro St. Louis had to offer. Neither man gave a fuck that they were sitting on the police station parking lot waiting on O to come out. Fuck the police. The world was theirs for the taking and nobody, not even the police, was gonna stop them from getting their shine on.

“I wish this dude would hurry up.” Koran shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.

“Right, I got shit I need to do,” Sheek responded.

“On the real, I wanna smack this nigga. Like, how the fuck he get locked up for five warrants in five different municipalities? What the fuck this nigga be doing? He know what type of shit we on. I schooled him personally on the game. I told him to let his shit bubble on the low and let these other niggas get the name and fame. I ain’t got time to be bailing this nigga out for a suspended license and unpaid parking tickets.”

“He young. You know how these cats are, man. They don’t know shit. They think they can’t be touched, especially O. That nigga walk around wit his chest out like he fuckin’. . .Tony Montana or some shit. I’m tellin’ you, the boy straight feelin’ his self. O be on some wild shit, man. I heard the dude smoke Dips.”

“What?” Koran said, surprised by the news.

“Yeah, Rock said every time he see ’em he be on some bugged out shit. He said one night they was at Society, kickin’ it, right? And O was actin’ a fool. He said the dude bought out the bar, was making it rain, mean mugging niggas, gettin’ into it wit ’em over dumb shit. And I know what he speakin’ is the truth. ‘Cause in the past month alone I’ve had to check the lil’ dude at least twice and you know that’s too much talkin’ for me. But on the strength of you and that being your man, I haven’t cocked the steel on him. But I’m tellin’ you . . . that lil’ nigga got one more time to test me, B, for real, and it’s gon’ be some slow singing and flower bringing.”

“Like you said, he young so why the fuck you wanna kill the nigga, Sheek?” Koran cracked up. “Yo’ ass don’t give a fuck. Yo’ muthafuckin’ grandma could look at you crazy and you would wanna blast her.”

“Fuck you, nigga.” Sheek couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I love my Nana Pearl.”

“Wow, okay, enough about Nana Pearl. I’ma holla at the nigga though. Me and him gon’ have a one-on-one. O a good dude. He just gotta calm down. He doing too much. All the ice and wavy hair bitches is gettin’ to his head.”

“Somebody better talk to him—”

“Yoooooo I forgot to tell you,” Koran interrupted him, excited.

“Damn, nigga, calm yo’ ole’ extra happy ass down.”

“Check it, guess who I ran into the other day?”

“Who, Tameka?” Sheek chuckled.

“Man, fuck nah.” Koran tuned up his face at the thought of her. “If I ever see that crazy bitch I’ma slap the shit outta her.”

“Well, who then?”

“Whitney.”

“Whitney? I ain’t seen her since high school. Where the fuck she come from? Didn’t she disappear on you or some shit?”

“Yeah, man, junior year she straight got ghost on me.”

“How she look?” “I mean, she was cool when we were coming up, but now that we grown mommy what’s up.”

“So Whitney that deal?”

“Yeah, I’m on her.”

“What about Trina?”

“What about her? When I said it was over I meant it. You know me, I move forward. I never go back.”

“Yo, here that nigga is,” Sheek said.

Koran and Sheek watched as O came bouncing through the doors as if he hadn’t been locked up for the past two weeks. With a confident grin on his face, O made his way over to the car. He was sure to hear a mouth full from Koran, but so what. Whatever Koran had to say would go in one ear and out the other. To O, Koran was an old timer in the game. He didn’t get that times had changed. It was okay to stay fly and floss hard. So what if you got locked up? Getting locked up was a part of the game. Any true hustler understood that.

“What up, lil’ nigga?” Koran spoke.

“What up?” O replied, getting into the car.

“What took you so long?” Sheek questioned as soon as he got in. “I told yo’ punk ass not to have me waiting.”

“I had to get my shit. Them hick ass police was tryin’ to act like they ain’t have my chain.”

“Let me see that muthafucka.” Koran reached his hand into the backseat.

O proudly passed it to him. He’d spent a pretty penny on the custom-made necklace. The chain was white gold and hanging from it was a diamond encrusted O with a crown on top.

“How much you pay for this country ass shit?” Koran asked, passing it back to him.

“Twenty grand and ain’t nothing country about my chain. I get mad compliments.”

“That twenty grand could’ve been in yo’ pocket, O.”

“I hear what you sayin’. But when you die you can’t take twenty grand wit you, so why not blow it on a chain?”

“Yeah, you can’t take it wit you when you die, but you sho’ll could’ve had it put up. That twenty grand could’ve helped get you outta jail. Where the fuck all yo’ money going?”

“Shit, I can answer that for you,” Sheek chimed in as they hit the highway. “On that bamma ass truck and coon ass chain.”

“Whateva, ya’ll niggas be hatin’.” O’s upper lip curled.

He was tired of hearing Koran and Sheek talk shit. What the fuck did they know? Neither of them had touched weight in years. They weren’t the ones in the trap day after day, grindin’ hard to get money. O and the other niggas on the payroll put food in their mouths. He had the streets on lock. Niggas in the hood respected his gangsta. O was the one putting in all the work. Fuck Koran! It was either get rich or die tryin’.

And yeah, Koran had taught him the game, but his mentoring days were done, finito, finished. O was a man now, not a little boy. He had his own mind and his own set of rules. He could easily venture out and start doing his own thing. Yeah, that’s what he would do. Once he got his paper straight O would start his crew.

“O, listen, you know I’m the last one out here to hate. I love the fact that you out here eatin’, my nigga. If I didn’t want to see you shine I would have never put you on, but you gotta slow down. These streets don’t love you. Don’t learn that shit the hard way. I know plenty of niggas who did and guess what—”

“They either dead or in jail,” O cut him off. “I know, look man ya’ll can drop me off at the pound. I gotta pick up my whip.”

O didn’t have to say another word. Koran knew when his advice wasn’t wanted. O would have to learn on his own that the streets would eat you up and spit you out.

Finding Forever

Computer keys tap danced and phones rang as Whitney sat with her left hand cupping her chin, staring blankly at the door. She should’ve been busy working on the stack of papers swarming her desk, but that could wait. A week passed by and the fact that Koran hadn’t called yet boggled her mind. And, yes, she requested that they be strictly friends, but didn’t he long for her taste as much as she longed for his?

Whitney knew that cold November afternoon would come back to haunt her. The right thing to do would’ve been to say goodbye, but Whitney could never say goodbye to loving Koran. From the moment she laid eyes on him he held the key to her heart, even though, to the universe, he was a street thug. At times Koran could be very cold and vicious, but with her he was always gentle.

Whenever she needed a shoulder to lean on he was there. He was her support system when she felt alone in the world. He gave her permission to be who she was. Before him Whitney never knew a love so strong. She would’ve given him anything, her heart, her mind, body and soul. She would’ve swam the deepest seas, climbed the highest mountain, robbed a bank, given him diamonds or pearls, anything except say goodbye.

He was her drug of choice, her forever, the air she breathed. Koran McKnight was one in a million. He was the definition of love and truth. To be loved was to be loved by him. And yes there would be new songs to sing, another fall, another spring, maybe even new lips for her to kiss, but none would compare to him. So until it was her time to leave, Whitney drank up his smile and drowned in his angel eyes. She never thought that years later they would find each other again. She didn’t want to deal with the never forgotten, but strategically hidden feelings she harbored for him.

“Why won’t this nigga call?” she whispered out loud as her cell phone began to vibrate. “Hello?” she answered on the first ring.

“What you doing?” Koran spoke deep into the phone.

“At work,” Whitney answered dryly.

“What’s wrong wit you?”

“Nothing, what’s up?” she continued in a sarcastic tone.

“I don’t like your attitude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like the fact that it’s been a week and you’re just now callin’ me.”

“Man, cut that shit out. We talkin’ now, ain’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, a’ight then. Now put a smile on your face and act like you miss me.”

“I can’t stand you.” She finally perked up.

“What you doing tonight? I wanna see you.”

“I got plans for a date,” she lied.

“Well, tell that nigga you’ll see him another day, ‘cause you kickin’ it wit me tonight.”

“How you just gon’ tell me what I’m gon’ do?” Whitney smirked as her supervisor walked past her desk, giving her the evil eye.

“Fuck, what you talkin’ about. I’ll see you tonight at Brennan’s. Be there by eleven,” Koran said sternly before hanging up.

“No this muthafucka didn’t.” Whitney laughed, hanging up, as well. “I got something for his ass.”

Finding Forever

The hit movie, The Chronicles of Narnia, came to mind as Whitney stood before a six-foot medieval style wooden door contemplating her next move. Should she face reality and walk away while she had the chance or take the initiative and enter into a wonderland of possibilities? Plan B suited her much better. Besides, there was no way she was letting her fears get the best of her. She liked the feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next.

“Just play it cool, girl. You’re only having drinks,” she assured herself as she placed her hand on the knob and pulled.