Prince of the City (19 page)

The officers searched the crowd of hustlers one-by-one. Some they let go and some they locked up. Malik was one of the ones that got locked up. He had in his possession a sixteen-shot Smith and Wesson .45 automatic.

Malik was arrested, charged as a juvenile, and sent to the receiving home for boys on Mount Oliver Road in Northeast until his eighteenth birthday. Just like Linda, Malik was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

* * * * * * *

At the same time that Malik was sent away, Linda was found guilty of possession with intent to distribute and sentenced to five years in federal prison. She was placed in the Danbury Federal Correctional Institution for women in Connecticut.

After Linda and Malik were arrested, Peaches was their only family left who lived by loyalty. Peaches took all of Linda's things and placed them in storage. She also had Malik's car towed to an auto garage in Clinton, Maryland. She often visited Linda on holidays and her days off.

Peaches took all the money she'd saved up, and with an advance loan of twenty thousand dollars from Linda, she opened her first nail shop on Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue in Southeast. Peaches gave up her old life and buried her past as if it never was. She gave herself another shot at life and what it could offer. Although Peaches had changed, there was still something from her past that she wanted. Something that would always be planted deep in her heart. That something was Malik Jabril Perry.

Peaches wrote and sent pictures to Malik at least three times a week. She hoped that after giving up her life in the streets, Malik would look at her differently and accept her for who she truly was. She hoped he would understand her pure love for him. She showed Malik her loyalty and trust in every way. Peaches opened up to Malik in letters, exposing her whole life to him, uncut and leaving no stone unturned. She often wrote him poems, hoping it would brighten his day. She badly wanted to visit Malik, but because he was a juvenile, the only people able to visit were his parents or legal guardian.

Malik had nine months left before his eighteenth birthday, and Peaches did everything she could to make sure Malik would be comfortable when he came home. She saved up all the profits from her business and slowed down on her spending just to have enough money so that when Malik came home, he wouldn't have to struggle as hard to get back on his feet.

Peaches always knew Malik was a great hustler. She just didn't want to see him start from rock bottom again.

 

* * * * * * *

Black Sam and Chevece pulled off the sweetest three-million-dollar caper ever. Chevece's divorce became final within months, and she and Sam married in a private ceremony in Atlantic City, New Jersey, not far from one of his favorite casinos, the Taj Mahal. After Sam gambled away at least five hundred thousand of their newfound wealth, they bought a house in Fort Washington, Maryland, twenty minutes outside of D.C. Then he put the remaining money with his drug profits and continued to drop off bricks of Mexico's finest to the Southeast Jungle. Sam was king of the Jungle, crowned in 1988, which was the longest run ever heard of in the game.

 

 

Chapter 24

-BROTHERS FROM ANOTHER-

 

Months later . . .

 

alik lay back on his bunk reminiscing about his parents and the hand of life dealt to him. He had no beefs about how his cards were dealt, but he often wondered if there was a God, then why?

Rico came bursting into the cell, interrupting Malik's thoughts. “Get up, nigga. Heard 'em call your name for mail,” Rico said.

Malik went out into the hallway where the counselor, Ms. Wilson, was calling out mail. “Perry! Perry!” she called loudly.

“Damn, Malik, you always get mail,” Soup, a youngster whom Malik grew to love as a lil brother said.

“Yeah, I know, young Soup. I guess they still love a nigga out there,” Malik said.

“Yeah, from all them stories you told me, I imagine they would still love your ass,” Soup responded.

Malik rubbed him on the head. “They gonna love you like that one day too, Soup. Just watch and see.”

“I know, 'cause I'm gonna be the richest nigga in D.C. by the time I'm twenty-one.”

“Yeah, Soup. You got seven more years before you turn twenty-one, so until then, move your lil ass over and let me holla at my man,” Rico said, interrupting Soup and Malik's conversation.

“Man, Rico. You swear you got all the sense, always tryna bust me and Malik's convo like you got something important to say! Nigga, you ain't talking about nothing, you fake ass wannabe Al Capone!”

“Don't worry about what I'm talking about! You just take your lil ass over in the rec room and go play some ping-pong or something.”

“Man, fuck you, Rico. You fat punk!”

“Soup, I'm a fuck your lil ass up; keep playing, a'ight!” Rico said, getting angry.

Malik laughed at the courageous, but funny youngster. Soup always had a way of making Rico mad and Malik loved it, often putting a stop to it before it got out of hand. “A'ight, Soup, that's enough. I'm a talk to you later, okay?”

“Just make sure you're by yourself. I don't want no suckers around,” he replied, indirectly insulting Rico.

“Keep it up!” Rico threatened Soup.

Malik laughed again.

“Fuck is so funny?” Rico asked, clearly pissed off.

“You, Rico,” Malik responded.

“Me? How am I funny?”

“'Cause, man, you be letting that lil boy get under your skin.”

“Man, fuck that lil nigga. His ass too fucking smart out the mouth!”

“Go 'head with that shit Rico. He a'ight. He just a young soldier. You gotta respect that.”

“Yeah, in some ways I do respect it, but in most I don't, because he don't know who to say that shit to.”

“I know. I know,” Malik said. “But what is it you wanted to talk about?”

Rico and Malik were the best of friends. They met at court while awaiting the outcome of their arrests and were both admitted on the same day. Rico was also arrested on a gun possession, and just like Malik, Rico had no parents. Rico never knew his mother or father, and was raised and adopted by a family friend in Spanish Harlem, New York. Rico came to D.C. in 1991 when he was thirteen, with a Puerto Rican for whom he was working. They took over the major clientele for bricks while D.C. was in its worst condition.

In 1991, the city's coke supply was dry due to the fact that D.C.'s number one drug kingpin was convicted of conspiracy and serving a life sentence. The city needed a connect, and that connect was the Puerto Rican who brought Rico to D.C. This same connect later became D.C.'s biggest snitch, but he was a great teacher for Rico, showing him that regardless of how solid and loyal a friendship might be, never trust anyone. Rico saw how his connect sold his soul and ratted on those who killed for him, those who put their families before him, those who remained loyal to him, and those whom he once called friends. What he did broke down all levels of respect Rico ever had for him. At one point in his life, he eagerly wanted to be like the connect, but after witnessing him pull a Houdini on his comrades, he eagerly wanted to kill him. Often he wished that he had. Rico was angry with himself for not being able to spot the weak and lame earlier.

After the connect got locked up, Rico stayed in D.C. He started messing with this girl named Tasha who lived on Robinson Place in Southeast, and eventually moved in with her and began hustling at the bottom of the hill. He fell in love with D.C. and made it his permanent residence.

Rico and Malik shared everything. They often talked about how they would get together when they got out, and how much money they were gonna make, and the places they would go, and how many bitches they were gonna fuck. They were preparing to take over the world together, and were so compatible that everything they did or wanted to do, they did together. Rico and Malik became like brothers, something that neither one of them ever had, but always needed.

 

* * * * * * *

As the weeks went by, Peaches wrote more and more. Her letters became more intense, and Malik started to give in to her. After all, he didn't have any place to go when he got out, and he needed someplace to chill while he and Rico got their plans together.

Peaches had moved into a townhouse in Oxon Hill, Maryland, right across the D.C. line, and just five minutes away from the Southeast Jungle. Malik began to write Peaches back, telling her all the things she wanted to hear. He told her that he'd give it a chance, but not to go too fast. And he reminded her that no matter the outcome, he'd still have love for her for the things she did for him while he was away. Malik liked Peaches, but the only thing that drew him away was her past profession. He didn't like the idea of Peaches having been involved with the same type of niggas he dealt with in the streets, so he stayed focused on his and Rico's plans to take over the whole Southeast side.

Rico was a couple of months older than Malik, so when he turned eighteen, he'd get out first. Their plan was for Rico to chill out and just open Robinson Place back up to keep the money flowing until Malik came home and found the connect. Rico was holding around twenty thousand dollars to his name while Malik was broke. However, Malik still had his Benz, an asset worth about a hundred thousand. That Benz was going to bring Malik back to life.

“Now, Malik, you know I go home next month.”

“Yeah, Rico, I know. How can I forget?”

“I'm not saying you forgot. I'm just going over our plans, that's all.”

“What's there to go over? It's plain and simple. You go home, cop half a brick, and keep flipping that shit for the next three months. Then, bam, I come home and sell the Benz. We put our money together, find a connect, and get rich like we supposed to, nigga.”

“Malik, all that sounds good, but you forgot one thing.”

“What's that, Rico?”

“We gotta find that bitch-ass nigga Tank and give 'im what he deserves.”

“I ain't forget that part. I just try not to say it, 'cause I want it so bad.”

“I feel you, nigga. I feel you.”

They both pressed each other's palms hard and embraced one another as if they were brothers bound by blood. After Malik and Rico finished going over their plans, the counselor called count.

“All right, you young niggas know what time it is, and if you don't know, then you know now. It's count time!Baby boy, get in your room,” the counselor told Malik.

Malik went into his room, sat on his bed, and opened up the mail he'd received. It was a letter from Linda, and whenever Linda wrote, Malik took his time reading it, because her letters always contained lessons well learned.

 

Dear nephew,

By the time you receive this, you'll be on your way out the door back into the world of reality where only the strong survive. However, I cannot be with you on this journey due to my lengthy sentence. Malik, I raised you from a boy to a man. I no longer can be there to guide you through pitfalls. This is the reason I raised you the way I did. I always knew that one day you were gonna have to make it on your own. So I prepared you at a very young age. Malik, you are very skilled physically and mentally. Use what you have wisely and judge others by their character, but never give in to their sweetness. Remember, sweetness is a man's weakness. Peep game and recognize it before it's been played. That way, I guarantee you won't fail.

You know, Malik, it's kinda funny that I'm writing to you this way. I always thought I'd be telling you this at home before purchasing your own house or something. Don't worry about me. I'm OK. I can weather this storm and my bankroll is still fat. I took this charge mostly because I wanted to see you on your own, and for real, I need a rest from them streets as well. But I'll be back in three and a half years, looking and feeling better than ever. Hopefully, you'll be in a position to buy me that house you always talked about.

Malik, do right by Peaches. You know she's a soldier and they don't make 'em like her no more. If you have any problems with tryna get down when you first touch down, just go to the Howard Inn on Georgia Avenue and holla at Butter. He'll do something for you on the strength of me.

So now, my darling nephew, I'm going to end this letter. I pray that you hold deep in your heart every lesson I gave you. Use it to your advantage. Stay wise and strong, and remember this always, maintain your composure, master your condition, and forever keep the haters within the bounds of moderation. TRUST NO ONE, not even me. I bear witness that if you live according to these principles, there will be no room for error.

Love Always and Forever Loyal,

Aunt Linda

 

After count was clear, lil Soup came into Malik's room. “What's up, Malik? I thought you was gonna come down my room and holla at me?”

“Well, Soup, ain't no need for me to come down to your room since you already here.”

“Yeah, you're right,” he responded with his head low.

“So what's up? Why you so anxious to talk?” Malik asked.

Soup sat up on Malik's bed and looked him in the eyes. “I know you are leaving in a couple more months, and I know Rico leaves in a couple weeks.”

“Yeah, so what about it?”

Soup paused for a few seconds and looked away, trying his hardest to hide his emotions before he spoke. “I ain't got nobody. My pops is dead and moms is strung out on that shit! You and I know that ain't nobody gonna come and rescue me from this joint. I'm stuck here till I turn eighteen, which is three more years, ‘cause I'll be fifteen next month anyway.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“Maaan, take me wit' you, please?” he begged.

Malik looked at young Soup. He could see how strong this youngster was. No matter how much Soup wanted to let his tears fall, his face remained dry.