Hood (26 page)

Read Hood Online

Authors: Noire

BOOK: Hood
12.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He slid the barrel of his tool down between Dreko’s eyes, and over the bump of his nose. Hood pressed that shit dead against Dreko’s trembling lips, then raised it up and slammed it down hard, cracking the cold metal against the glimmering number one on his left front tooth.

“What you doing?” Dreko screamed through a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. His words came out sounding like he was sucking a dick, but Hood still heard his boy loud and clear.

“I’m doing what it takes,” he spit down at him.

And then he fired.

A million years seemed to pass before Hood heard the sickening thud of Dreko’s body as it slammed into the concrete down below. And then Marjay was screaming and dragging her leg across the pebbly tar and making horrible noises that touched his soul.

“I’m coming, Mama,” Hood muttered. He unhooked his foot and let himself fall down onto the roof side of the railing. “Just chill out, Mama. I’m coming.”

And at the End…

No Regrets!

THE HOMETOWN CROWD
was wildin as Reem Raw ripped the mic in an outdoor area of Van Dyke projects known as “The Hole.” Touring was some exhausting shit. Twenty-four cities, a sweat-drenching show almost every night…the schedule was brutal, but who would ever give it up?

The crowd was throwing up a mad chant for the Bottom Half Boyz. Reem had blessed the projects with this complimentary performance of his latest chart topper and people were hanging all outta their windows trying to be a part of it.

“Yeahhh,” Reem said as he grinned into the screaming crowd. “Brownsville! We home, goddammit. Been all over the world, but I can sure tell we back home!”

A sick beat dropped from the mounted speakers and Reem’s chart-topping single, “No Regrets,” kicked in hard.

Reem laughed as the crowd started illin.

“We ’bout to give y’all something spectacular, ya dig me? Reem Raw! Robb Hawk! Hood! Speedy! Yeah! You know how we do ours!”

His Bottom Half Boyz were flowing with the crowd on the edge of the stage. Security was having a hard time keeping niggas back, and chicks was giving up that groupie love as they flung phone numbers and love letters up in the air like crazy.

Reem broke in and kicked the first verse with his distinctive, born-for-the-mic voice.

Tears I shed for the years I bled,

Thought I’d die in the slums when I took my pledge!

Hell is waitin tell Satan he can book my bed,

Looked Death in the face and he shook his head!

Wasn’t ready for me.

So now I’m here, y’all ready for me?

Screams of love flew up from the crowd and rose into the air. The folks who were hanging out of their windows had a bird’s eye aerial view of the show and were spittin that brutal shit right along with Reem.

Peep the scene! Niggas wanna be the king!

If they think they seeing Reem’s flow? Need cre-a-tine!

Homey, step ya strength up, press the bench up,

Yes, I’m the shit! Can’t cover the stench up! Yep!

Shit! What a gift God graced me with!

So the number one spot, they gotta place me in, my nigga!

So make room, let the race begin!

I’ll meet you at the top, my foundation is the block!

Then the whole crew cut in with a hook that was so banging and uplifting that it had become a ghetto national anthem in housing projects and urban centers all over the nation.

No regrets cause life is sacred! Never let go of what you put your faith in! Times get hard, gotta keep your patience! Hold on till your dream comes true and embrace it! Face it!

The crowd was getting crazy swole. People were streaming over from Brownsville Houses, the Plazas, Riverdale, Tilden, Marcus Garvey, Seth Low, and Langston Hughes. Everybody who was close to the stage was straight wildin out. They were amped up and starstruck at the sight of their local boys who had made it out of the hood and done it up real good.

A tall, shapely young sistah stood quietly in the midst of the chaos watching one performer in particular. She’d arrived extra early to make sure she had a front and center spot. Every so often some crazy chick screamed real loud in her ear, or bumped a gangsta booty up against her hip, or elbowed her in the back as she got her freak dance on, but the pretty, chocolate-skinned sistah didn’t seem to mind.

It had been a long time since she’d seen him. Fourteen months, to be exact. She tucked her small purse under her arms and allowed her eyes to get full on him. He looked good. Better than ever. She’d seen him grow from a boy into a man, and she couldn’t be prouder of him for achieving his dreams. She had purchased the CD he was featured on, so she knew the second verse was his. She smiled as he grabbed the mic and banged up the stage.

Count the bars! Can’t count the scars!

And I plotted a better plan when I found my flaws!

Now I put it down of course, so I’m crowned the boss,

Do what I feel, so fuck it if it’s frowned upon!

Now I got my craft mastered,

On tracks I spat acid,

Check my past hits I smashed the last bracket!

I’m in a whole ’nother league/whole ’nother speed,

With my man on the stand that’s a whole ’nother breeze!

The crowd was loving him. How could they not? He’d been working toward this dream his whole damn life. Lyrics had always rushed through his head. His lips had always moved. Trying not to lose his words, he used to say. Well, by the way the crowd was responding to him, the words he spit today had come straight off the pages of his life. He hadn’t lost a single one.

Trip? Please! I can show you the highlights!

I shoulda did me, I can see it in hindsight,

Shoulda went left when everybody done flew right!

This is not just a song it’s the soundtrack to my life!

I do it for my niggas, they can shine in my light!

Ticket out the hood? They can fly on my flight!

Yeah! No regrets! Just living my dreams!

Reem, Hood, Hawk, Gita, and Speed, ya’nah ’a ’mean?

Oh, they was feeling him. She smiled as he strode around the perimeter of the stage skimming hands with the fans who loved him so. She tried to step back as he neared her, but the dancing crowd pushed her right back out. Their eyes met and she inched out her hand. His fingers skimmed hers and they both knew. He hesitated just for a moment, then moved on. Giving up the love to the screaming fans who were dying for his touch.

Her fingers tingled from his energy and she took a deep breath as Robb Hawk came up for the last verse.

Her road to recovery had been rough and lonely. She’d gotten her GED, enrolled in community college, she was making meetings…and she was clean. But she’d been wrong to come back here so soon. Her heart was still open. The wounds still tender.

She opened her purse and pulled out a much-folded piece of paper as Hawk put his flow down on the third verse.

Son of the slums, my block ain’t got Jags on it!

Just crack, gats, and deadbeat dads on it!

Young bucks like to wild out and spazz on it,

Every other hour there’s another body bag on it!

Egypt unfolded the letter and stared at the single line of writing before her.

You have tested negative for the virus that causes HIV and AIDS.

It was her third test in fourteen months, and each one had come back negative.

Egypt sighed, reaching inside herself for her newly gained peace. So much had happened that it still seemed unreal. Sackie and baby Andreka gone. Hood turning his back on the drug game and going for his music career full force. Zena living on the streets and smoked out, totally crazy with grief…

Robb Hawk was onstage cutting up, and she refolded the small sheet of paper and stuck it back in her purse as she turned her attention back to the show.

She was drawn to him, of course. And he was drawn to her. Their eyes met again. There was still a lot of love there. And a lot of pain too.

Egypt let go first. She turned away, sparing him.

His eyes were heavy on her back as she pushed through the bouncing crowd and quickly disappeared from sight.

Hawk was finished slaying his verse and it was time for the hook again.

Hood lifted his mic to his lips and joined his boys. Spitting with hard-body fire, he tore the hook all the way down, reciting the words that he’d written from his heart…for the woman he would always love.

No regrets cause life is sacred! Never let go of what you put your faith in! Times get hard, gotta keep your patience! Hold on till your dream comes true and embrace it! Face it!

“Stay strong, E,” Hood whispered softly. He nodded in her direction with mad love shining in his eyes. “No regrets, baby. Just hold on to your dreams.”

Other books

Mortal Mischief by Frank Tallis
Echoes by Danielle Steel
Body Language by Michael Craft
Perfectly Correct by Philippa Gregory
The Eighth Day by Tom Avitabile
Dickens' Women by Miriam Margolyes
City of Lies by Ramita Navai