Authors: Y. Blak Moore
With a puzzled look on his face, Diego watched Don's strange antics. He was starting to feel uneasy, but it was too late. Ever since grammar school the two boys had
competed at everything from getting girls to sports, from basketball to pitching pennies. They had even fought to a standstill once in sixth grade in their grammar school classroom wars.
Don handed Diego the money and bowed. As Diego unfolded the money and began to count it, Don's crew couldn't help but enjoy the look of amazement on his face. Diego realized too late he had played into Don's hand.
“That little bankroll, as big bad-ass Diego call it, is exactly one thousand dollars. A gee, a gangster. So that mean that Diego and his crew got to put up five thousand dollars. Five gees, cinco stacks. That is unless this stud been out here woofin’ and he ain't got paper like that.”
Knowing that his street credibility was on the line, Diego gave a halfhearted smirk and retreated to his homies. He instructed his main lackey, a tall, skinny kid with bad teeth by the name of Lonnie, to run to his Jeep and see how much was in the stash spot. In a few moments Lonnie returned with a handful of cash and a worried look on his face—there hadn't been as much cash as Diego thought. The rest of Diego's crew dipped in their pockets and pooled together the money they had on them. Altogether they came up with forty-three hundred in cash. Sajak, one of Diego's young dealers, offered a half-ounce of crack to the pot, and another, Monkeyhead, contributed a .357 Python revolver to make up the difference. Motioning to Don, Diego walked to the center of the basketball court.
“You think you slick,” Diego grumbled when Don was in earshot.
Don retorted, “Nall, you think I'm slick.”
“Fuck all of that shit. We got forty-three hundred, a half onion, and a heater. Is it a bet?”
“Hell yeah, but we choose who gone hold the loot.” Don scanned the crowd and spotted an attractive teenage girl who looked innocent enough.
He turned back to Diego. “You see shorty over there in the jogging suit? We gone let baby girl hold this down.”
Diego gave the girl a once-over. Nothing seemed amiss so he acquiesced.
Both boys sidled up to the girl, who coolly watched their approach.
Don asked, “Excuse me baby girl, what's yo name?”
“Juanita,” she replied.
“Juanita, we need you to do us a favor if you ain't too busy right now. We want you to hold the pot for us while we play this game. You only give this shit to the winner. Is that cool with you?”
“Yeah, okay, but what do I get out of this?” she asked coyly.
“Well, you get to be my special guest of honor at the victory celebration,” Don answered, winking as he handed her the winnings. “And after that, we will see what will be, baby girl.”
Both teams stepped onto the court and took practice
shots on opposite ends of the court. After warming up they met in the middle of the court.
Diego announced, “We shooting from the top of the key to see who get first ball. Do or die on y'all, Don-Don.”
Keno, Don's team's best long-distance shooter, easily sank the shot securing their team the first ball.
From the first pass, Don and his team controlled the tempo of the game. They had been playing basketball together since grade school. They knew each other's talents and strengths and covered one another's weaknesses. Diego and his team were the exact opposite. Every one of them thought they were better than they really were—everyone wanted to be the superstar. They consistently turned the ball over, hogged it, and forced up wild shots.
The beginning of the game was a little rough, but that was to be expected in a game for such high stakes. Don and his crew didn't back down; they were used to playing under intense pressure. Big Man snatched rebounds greedily at both ends of the court. Carlos and Keno shot jump shots from every angle on the court. Don was an astonishingly quick defender. He managed to steal the ball repeatedly from Diego and Lonnie and he blocked three of Monkey-head's shots. Dre had a dazzling array of layups in his repertoire and he drove to the hole with intensity.
Diego's team was out-classed, out-rebounded, out-shot, and out-passed. Before they knew it, it was game point with Don's team leading 32–14.
Dante inbounded the ball to Dre. Dre pushed the ball up
the court and passed it to Don. Don fed Keno at the top of the key. Keno was wide open and his teammates expected him to let fly one of his high, arching jump shots. Don and Carlos set two consecutive picks to free up Big Man from his defender. At the top of the key Keno flicked up a long, high lob. Big Man ran, leapt into the air, caught the basketball in midair, and slammed it through the basketball rim. Before letting go of the rim he smacked the metal backboard.
Holding his head in his hands Diego sat down in the middle of the court. He watched enviously as Don and his boys ran over to Juanita to claim their winnings. Don kissed the girl quickly on the mouth—she didn't protest. Laughing and congratulating themselves, Don's crew exited the fence surrounding the court. Don stopped and called Juanita over to the fence. He slid a fifty-dollar bill through the links of the fence.
“Shorty, that invitation still stands. We'll be over Semo's house on Eberhart. It won't be hard to find. You'll hear the music and smell the weed before you find the house.”
Juanita thanked him and assured him that she would be there. As she turned and walked away, Don watched her plump behind for a few moments before running to catch up with his friends.
Keno said, “Man, that's a fine young bitch. If you get her naked don't forget to share. You know what they say. It ain't no fun if the homies can't have none.”
Don teased, “They wadn't talking about you niggas that be burning all the time.”
Big Man joked, “That nigga keep crabs like pets.”
They all laughed.
Don thought about the pistol tucked into his waistband. “Come on y'all, let's put some pep in our steps, I got this heater on me.”
AFTER A QUICK SHOPPING SPREE THEY ALL SHOWERED
and dressed in their new, stiff clothes which, combined with a trip to the barbershop, had them looking like different people. Even Semo was sporting a fresh fade and a new pair of Jordans. After all, they were partying in his house.
Semo's house was the usual party spot. Semo's father, a long-distance truck driver and his only parent since his mother had died from lupus five years ago, didn't come home for weeks at a time and he always phoned first. He knew that Semo partied hard, and since he was a bit of a hellraiser himself, he didn't mind, as long as they didn't tear the house down. His phone calls to tell his son that he was on the way home were really an early-warning system to give Semo time to clean up any mess and clear out any
houseguests. Partying and getting high were at the top of the list of things that Semo loved to do, especially if everything was free. Don gave him the important role of playing host and that was fine with him. His only duties were rolling the blunts, keeping the drinks flowing, and making sure that no freeloaders got in the spot. He loved rolling the blunts; it gave him autonomy over the weed and the chance to cuff a few blunts, which he did at every opportunity.
The party was going full blast by the time Juanita made her entrance. Don was so high that at first he didn't recognize her. He was smoking a blunt and nodding his head to the music blasting from the stereo. When he spotted her and realized who she was, he choked on the smoke in his lungs. She was looking good enough to eat in a miniskirt, tie-up Roman sandals, and a halter top. Her pixie hairdo perfectly framed her tan, thin face. Her large doe eyes were enhanced by thick eyelashes. Her full, pouting lips were coated with shimmering lip gloss. The halter top she was wearing displayed her blemish-free midriff. She had the legs of a long-distance runner and her round butt hiked her miniskirt up dangerously high.
Don did a double take that would have made the Three Stooges proud. Pulled to her as if he was hypnotized, he grabbed her hand and gave her a hug.
“What's up, baby girl!” Don yelled into her ear over the music.
“Nothing, what's up with you?” Juanita shouted.
“I'm tight. You want something to drink?”
“Huh?”
“I said you want something to drink!” he repeated.
“I'm straight, but it's too loud in here. Let's go outside or something!”
“I got a better idea!” Don hollered.
“Huh?”
“Follow me!”
Don grabbed her hand and led her through the party-goers up to the second floor. They walked down a short hallway, and then he ushered her through a door and closed it behind them. Semo's father's bedroom was strictly off-limits to ordinary partygoers, but not to Don-Don. He motioned for her to have a seat beside him on the bed.
“Damn, girl, you looking fine as hell in that outfit there,” he said. “I bet you ain't even got no panties on or you got on one of them thongs. You got on a thong?”
“Yep,” she replied. “A black silk one, too.”
“Ohwee,” Don whistled. “I loves me a girl in a thong. I bet you look sexy as hell in that boy, too. Can I see it?”
Juanita laughed. “Un-unh. I don't even know you like that to let you be seeing my thong. How do I know you ain't a raperman or something?”
Don was taken aback, but only slightly. “If you thought I was a raperman, why you come up here with me? If I was a raperman do you think I would be asking you could I see your thong? Hell nall, I'd be ripping off yo skirt and shit.”
“For you not to be a raperman, you sure know a lot about how to rape somebody,” she said slyly.
For a second Don was confused, then he realized she was putting him on. “Get yo ass outta here. Girl, you had me going. Wassup though? Can I check you out in that thong?” he persisted as he leaned closer and sniffed her neck. Taking a chance he licked the tan skin right above her shoulder.
Juanita giggled. “Boy, don't do that. My neck is my motherfucking spot. You'll fuck around and have me off in here in my thong for real doing that shit there.”
Inspired, Don began kissing and licking her neck. As she leaned back a little and let him, he decided to try his luck and rest his hand on her chest. When she didn't resist he slid his hand under her halter top. She wasn't wearing a bra. Happily he toyed with her taut young buds and listened to her breathing begin to grow ragged. After playing with her nipples and sucking on her neck for five minutes, Don decided to go for the gold. He slid his hand from under her top and let it rest on her smooth tan thighs. He started at the hemline of her miniskirt and attempted to work his way under it.
“No,” Juanita moaned as she clamped her legs together.
Not wanting to break the mood, Don obeyed her wishes. He didn't push any farther, but he didn't move his hand off her thighs. Instead he redoubled his efforts around her neck, running his tongue in and out of her ear. Her body trembled as he worked his magic and when he leaned on her to push her back on the bed again he met no protest. Again throwing caution to the wind, he slid her top off. Hungrily he began to devour her breasts. She moaned and rubbed her
legs together but didn't stop him. Don tried again to get his hand between her thighs. This time she sat upright and pushed him off her.
Don begged, “Come on girl, don't do that. You got my dick hard as hell. I know that pussy of yours is wet. Come on baby, let me have some of that. You already know I'll take care of you. You see how I hit you earlier.”
She said, “Look, nigga, you can cut that baby, baby, please baby, baby routine. I ain't the one. You need to save that shit for one of them dumb bitches downstairs. So what, you gave me a fifty when we was over at the courts, that's old news. The only thing that's gone get you in these panties is some of that good weed with some crack sprinkled on it and a few more of them dollars.”
At her proposition Don sat up quickly, so quick that he almost made himself sick. He had to pause until the room stopped spinning. Once his equilibrium was reasonably centered he snapped.
“Bitch, what the fuck did you just say? I know you ain't no motherfucking crackhead! All of them fine-ass bitches downstairs and I end up with a fuckin’ clucker! How a fine-ass girl like you end up fucking with yams?”
Juanita proceeded to strip away her miniskirt and halter. Her firm breasts jutted and her smooth thighs flashed dangerously in the low light. Jiggling delightfully in the lace thong, her butt was a sight to behold.
Unaware of his actions, Don licked his lips.
Well aware that she had his undivided attention, Juanita
asked, “Do this look like the body of a clucker? Do I look like a crackhead to you? Motherfucka, I don't think so. Nigga, I ain't smoking the pipe, the whistle, the hooter, or whatever y'all call it. I just like to crush down a rock or two and sprinkle it on my weed every now and then. It ain't like you smoking the pipe. You can get that good feeling without being strung out like them motherfucking hypes. Now if that's too much for a lil’ boy, then I'll go find me a man that can handle it. I thought you was on top of things, Mr. Don-Don, but you in here acting like you ain't up on the real shit.”
With a look of disdain, Juanita grabbed her clothes and began to dress. Don put his hand on her arm before she could step into her miniskirt. He couldn't pass up this opportunity. He came to a quick conclusion. He had heard people talk about smoking premos, caviar joints, or sprinkles, but he had never tried it before. Even if he didn't like the high it gave him, it was well worth a little discomfort to get in her panties. He would try the shit with her once, then try to fuck her brains out. When he was through he would tell her to beat it.
With his hand on her arm, he said, “Hold it now girl, I was just tripping. I thought you was talking about smoking the hooter. A nigga ain't fuckin’ with that. Slow down though, shorty. Imma grab some yay and we gone kick it.”
Don got up off the bed and walked over to the bedroom door and opened it to holler for Dre. The music was beating so hard downstairs that he knew there was no way that anyone
could hear him. He had given up on shouting and was headed for the staircase when Dre came out of the bathroom to his left, zipping up his pants. When Dre saw Don he put his arm around his friend's shoulder and started to talk, but Don cut him off abruptly.