Chapter 5 (Gabos)

Going Hard

When we made our way off the bus at Vanguard High School, all eyes were on us. Not too many people expected to see us three together, so I guess it’s something people better get used to. As we started walking to our classes, four niggaz by the name of Turtle, Wacko, Rachet, and Tim approached us, speaking to Pokey first.

“Pokey, what’s up, dog? I see you made it home in one piece,” Rachet said, being funny. As Pokey looked at the boy like he was ready to kill, all he said was, “Yeah, dog, I did my time. Now I’m back trying to do the right thing, if people let me, and if not, sorry for that person,” Pokey said also being funny, but dead ass for real.

“Whatever, nigga,” Rachet said. “Anyways, what’s up, Fatboy? When you started hanging with lames?”

“Man, look these my niggaz, and we gonna ride or die together, respect it or check it.”

“Man, forget all that,” Turtle said. “We just came to holla at ya boy Flick, but since all three of y’all a team, it goes for all y’all then.”

“What’s that?” Fatboy asked, ready for whatever.

“Listen, I got a 150 dollars on my dog Tim that he’ll beat ya boy Flick racing.”

“In my mind I had my doubts,” Fatboy was thinking, “’cause everybody know Tim is supposed to be the fastest at school. I know my dog Flick can run and he fast, but this kid Tim is fast as lighting. “

Just as I was about to say we good, the skinny nigga named Wacko started saying, “You niggas scared? Y’all ain’t got no confidence in ya dog, or y’all ain’t got no confidence in ya money?”

Just as I was about to call the bet outta pride, Pokey pulls Flick over to the side and starts talking to him, “Flick, you think you can beat this nigga or not?”

“Man, I don’t know the nigga running.”

“Man, so what? You running too. You gotta have confidence in yourself, before anybody in life will have confidence in you. Now what I’mma do is call this bet, and what you gonna do is win the race,” Pokey said, giving Flick some dap. “Hey Turtle, that’s a bet, but if we lose I’ll pay you tomorrow, ’cause I ain’t bring no bread with me,” Pokey said, knowing if Flick lost he was gonna buck anyway.

“Say no more then,” Turtle said.

“It’s a bet. After school is over we’ll all stay after and watch the track meet. Then when it’s all said and done, we’ll ask Coach to let y’all two race,” Pokey said.

“Man, we’ll be there,” Turtle said, with his dog Rachet putting in his say.

“So in, y’all niggas might as well not even show up, ’cause y’all know Fick isn’t gonna beat Tim.”

“All right, dog, you said enough. We’ll be there. Just bring your running shoes ’cause you gonna need them fucking with my dog,” Fatboy says.

“Man, we’ll see.”

As they started walking off, Rachet started yelling, “No show bet still go, and you lose you gonna pay that money. That’s the rules.”

“Same go for y’all too. Don’t get it twisted,” Pokey said back.

“Damn, the bell just ringed. Let me get to this classroom before Mrs. Hope start tripping,” Flick says.

“Yeah, I’mma see y’all at lunch,” Pokey said, heading toward his class. Fatboy watched as both his friends disappeared down the halls in different directions before he turned around and walked to his class.

As he steps in the door Mr. Cracker looks at him and tells him, “You’re five minutes late. I know you heard the bell ring. But since I know you don’t care, I want you to know the next time you will get detention.”

“I got you, man. That’s my bad I’m late,” Fatboy remarks back with a scowl on his face. Just as Fatboy finished talking, a white kid walks in, and all the teacher told him was, “Have a sit, son,” instead of making a smart comment. All Fats did was laugh to himself, which caught the teacher’s attention and made him turn red in the face.

“Damn these some racists-ass teachers,” Fatboy was still thinking as the bell rang for the kids to switch classes. “Damn, time flew by” was all Fatboy could say as he walked out the door, glad to be out that class.

As Flick was walking down the hall, he sees Rosie, walking toward him with her arms out, like she reaching for a hug.

“Boy, what’s up?” Rosie says. “I’ve been looking for you all morning. I even waited out front ’bout five minutes, but I didn’t see you, so I just went to class.”

“Oh baby, my bad. I was out front though, you probably just didn’t see me ’cause me and my dogs was going back and forth with these niggaz about me and they dog racing. It’s supposed to go down after school though,” Flick said.

“Boy, you must be talking about Tim and his dogs,” Rosie says. “You know they say he the fastest at school.”

“Yeah, I heard that, but it’s somebody for everybody,” Flick says. “I’m saying thou, you gonna be able to stay after school and watch the race, or you gotta go home, baby, I don’t know.”

Rosie said, “I gotta call my mom during lunch break, and see if she can pick me up, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

Rosie said, “All right, baby, the bell just rang, so let me get to my class. I’mma holla at you later,” she said, as she peeled off all smiles.

On the way to his other class, Fatboy sees Pokey walking with Amanda, all smiles. In his mind all he could say was, “It’s good to see my dirty smiling.”

About thirty more seconds went by, and Fatboy calls Pokey, “Hey Pokey! Damn, nigga, you don’t see ya dog now.”

“Na’ll, dog, I was just vibed out,” Pokey said. “What's up though? Hold on, Fats. Hey Amanda, I’m holla at you at lunch all right?”

“All right,” Amanda says and starts walking to her class.

“Look, Fatboy, I need to holla at cha.”

“What’s up?” Fatboy said, watching the smile that was just plastered on his face disappear and turn to a frown.

“Look,” Pokey said, “this school shit ain’t for me. Every time I go in these crackers’ classrooms, they be looking at a nigga all funny and shit. This morning I went in class with positive thinking, trying to actually learn something. I ask this cracker for help, he just laughed at me and started walking off, talking ’bout I’ll figure it out and went straight over to another kid and begin helping him. Tell me that ain’t fucked up,” Pokey said.

“Dog, you right, that is fucked up. But remember, a winner never quits, and a quitter never wins.”

“I hear all that, but you don’t understand how frustrated that shit gets me,” Pokey said.

“I feel you, dog, but listen to what I heard a long time ago from one of my mother’s friends. He said unless a man undertakes more than he possibly can, he will never do all he can. So just keep that lil saying in your mind, dirty. It will help you, when it seems like the walls are crumbling down.”

“I’m feeling that,” Pokey said, giving his friend some dap, before turning around to head to his class, with a little more bounce in his step.

As Fatboy walks the other way headed to his class, he says a lil prayer. Something he usually don’t do, but just this once he decided it was worth it, “Lord, keep my friends strong, and help us all to stay positive,” he said as he walked in the door to start his second class of the day.

An hour later, the bell rings, letting the students know it was lunchtime.

“Damn, time is flying,” Fatboy said. “Just as I was getting off into this math, they wanna ring the bell. Well, time to go,” he said, heading but the door to meet his friends for lunch. And then he runs into an old friend by the name of Maurice Jenkins.

“Man, what’s up?” Fatboy asked.

“Oh nothing, dog. You know me, I just be trying to chill,” Maurice said.

“Where you being, man? I haven’t seen you around in about two months. I thought you moved or something,” Fatboy said.

“Nope, try again,” Maurice said laughing. “Na’ll, for real. I had got into a little BS with the law, and them crackers drop the charges ’cause they didn’t have shit on me but hearsay, so here I am, live and in the flesh.”

“Dog, you still out there robbing people? You better leave that shit alone and keep playing B-ball,” Fatboy advised his friend.

“Man, basketball is my sport, I love playing it, but that shit don’t feed me when I’m hungry or put clothes on my back,” Maurice said.

“I understand that, dog, but before you started all that dumb-ass shit, you used to be the best ball player here, and it would’ve been only a matter of time before ever college in the world new bout you then off to the pros, where basketball would’ve been feeding your ass and putting silk on ya ass,” Fats told his friend.

“I hear all that, but I gotta do what I gotta do, I can’t go years without eating, waiting on the pros, nigga. I’ll starve to death,” Maurice said.

“Yeah, and you the same nigga who told me in middle school, strong people surmount obstacles, struggles against adversity and survive, right? What happen to that?”

“Man, I gotta eat, but since it’s you, I’mma try and chill and get back into basketball, but I can’t make no promises,” Maurice said.

“All right, dog. I’mma take you up on that, and I’mma holla at you later,” Fatboy said, walking toward the lunchroom. When he enters the lunchroom, he sees Pokey and Amanda with Flick and Rosie, seated in the corner, the sight of them together made him think about his shortie shaking. But the thought vanished just as quick, as he studies his surroundings. Before walking toward his friends, he sees all the niggaz Turtle, Wacko, Tim, and Rachet looking in the direction as his friends are in, pointing and saying something he couldn’t quite hear. So he chalked it up as nothing major, nothing to be concerned about, until he walked passed them, and Turtle said, “Y’all got about three more hours till school’s out. Tell ya friend Pokey he can cope out now, and I won’t tax him but half the money.”

Everybody in school knew, even the teachers, that Turtle and his crew was making money, they just didn’t know how. The thing was, all four of them niggaz stayed fresh with the latest wear, and they all kept money to flaunt at all times, but everyone knew their downfall would be they liked to be seen too much by everyone, especially Rachet.

Fatboy was thinking as he found a seat next to his friends, “Damn y’all, couldn’t wait on me.”

“Dog, chill out, we just got here ’bout five minutes ago. You act like we ate all the pizza,” Pokey said, trying to stuff a piece in his dog mouth. Just as Fats took the pizza from Pokey, Pokey began to choke.

“Ha ha! Nigga, didn’t Mrs. Queen tell you about talking with ya mouth full?” Fatboy said laughing, while Amanda patted Pokey on his back.

“Flick, boy, what’s up? You ready to win this money?” Fatboy asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Flick said, while looking at Rosie.

“Man, let’s finish the rest of this pizza so we can slide. We got ’bout twenty more minutes before they ring the damn bell again.”

“All right,” they all said. As everyone grabbed slices of the pizza when everybody was done, Rosie said, “Flick, I’mma go call my mom’s real quick, and see if she’ll pick me up after school,” Rosie said, leaving the table. As Fatboy, Flick, Pokey, and Amanda were leaving, this fat kid named Rico runs up to them, talking ’bout he got fifty dollars on Tim, and his friends wanna bet too. Before he could get any further, Pokey cut him off.

“Rico, man take ya fat ass on somewhere. You know ain’t nobody finna bet you.”

“Why,” Rico said, “my money ain’t no good?”

“Ain’t nobody say that, dog. Nigga, just ain’t about to go through the drama with you, that’s all.”

“All right, fuck it. You niggas just scared,” Rico said.

“Yeah, we scared, scared of what we may have to do to your ass,” Pokey said.

“Damn, these niggas done told everybody about one lil race, now everybody gonna stay after school just to see this shit,” Fatboy said. “Well, Flick, you about to get the spotlight if you win,” Fatboy said.

As they begin to walk off, they see Rosie on the phone, talking to her mom.

“Mom, can I stay after school to watch the track meet?” she asked.

“I guess, girl,” her mom said. “What time will it be over?”

“I guess about 6:30.”

“All right, I’ll pick you up then,” her mom said, hanging the phone up. When she hung up, Flick was right there.

“What she said?” Flick asked.

“She said yes, I can stay.” As soon as she said yes, the bell rang, and everybody started going back to their classes.

Pokey and Amanda took off together in one direction, screaming, “We’ll see y’all after school is over,” Flick told Rosie. “Baby, I’mma catch up with you later.”

“All right,” Rosie said, taking off to class.

 “Fatboy, yeah dog, you all right?” Flick asked.

“Yeah, man. I’m just chilling, thinking about a lot of things,” Fatboy said.

“All right, dog. I was just checking, ’cause you been kinda quiet, that’s all,” Flick said.

“Man, I’m all right though, just going through the motions.”

“All right then, I’mma go ahead to class,” Flick said and walked off. While Fatboy just stood there for a moment in La La Land, thinking about where his life was headed, until the sound of the last bell rang for those who didn’t make it to class yet to get there. About two hours later, the bell rang to let students know school was now over. As everybody ran out the classes filling the hallways, waiting to get on buses, talking to friends, and just clowning around, Turtle and his crew were already headed toward the track, playing around and talking shit about how Tim was gonna leave Flick in the dust. But little did they know it would be the other way around.

As Fatboy, Pokey, and Flick exited the school building and started walking toward the track, Amanda and Rosie ran up beside them, smiling, and talking shit.

“Damn, y’all too good to wait on us,” Amanda said.

“Baby, you knew where we was going so why wait?” Pokey asked.

“’Cause I’m your girlfriend, and it’s not gonna kill you to wait on me sometimes.”

“All right, next time I’ll wait. You happy now,” Pokey said, more concentrated on this race than anything else. ’Cause he knew if Flick lost, he was bucking the payment. He also knew bucking would cause unwanted bullshit with Turtle and his friends, so he was hoping Flick would pull it off. But at the same time, “It is what it is,” he said to himself. As they reached the track, watching all the people running, stretching, and everything else that goes on at a track meet.

“Coach Thomas, what’s up?” Flick asked.

“Nothing, you ready?” Coach Thomas asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. Let’s time you in the 220-yard dash first, then the 100 and 50,” she said. Then Flick started changing from his school shoes into his track shoes, jumping up, jogging in place.

As he headed to the starting line before he ran for the 220, Pokey ran up beside him and advised him, “Dog run fast, just not your fastest, ’cause you know these niggas gonna be checking you out.”

“All right, dog. I got you,” Flick said, ready to run. “Coach, I’m ready, when you ready.”

“Remember this is just tryouts.”

“I know, Coach.”

“All right then. Get set, ready, go!”

Flick took off like Carl Lewis back in his days and did the 220 in no time.

“Coach, how I look?”

“Boy, you fast, but Tim still got the record.” Little did she know, Flick wasn’t even running at top speed. “All right, catch ya breath, then we’ll do the 100.”

“All right, Coach,” Flick said. About five minutes later, Flick said, “Coach, I’m ready.”

“All right, let’s go!” she yelled. “You ready? Yeah, all right, ready, set, go.” He took off again but slowed down when he saw Turtle and his crew on the sideline, watching. And he ran the 50-yard dash with the same speed but slowed down at the end. As Coach went and timed other kids, Fatboy, Flick, and Pokey, and the girls, stood on the sidelines, watching Tim and all the other people run. As they vibed out and were laughing, ’cause they knew a secret no one else knew, beside them, that Flick was just playing around when he ran for his times. As they watched Tim take off, all they could say was that nigga, moving, that nigga fast as hell. Pokey broke everybody’s thoughts. By telling Flick, “Dog, you can’t play around with that nigga.”

“I got you, dog. Trust me, it’s no sweat,” Flick said with confidence.

When Tim finished running, Turtle called him over and started telling him, “Man, let’s go ’head and get this shit over with, so we can get back to the PS’s.”

“All right, dog, I’m ready,” Tim said. “Hey Coach, you gonna ref this race for us?” Tim asked. “That kid thinks he can beat me.”

“Who?” she asked.

And Tim started pointing at Flick, “Him right there.” As Flick stepped up, Coach looked at Flick like he was crazy. He just watched Tim blow his time way.

“Coach, what’s up? You gonna call the race or what?” Flick asked.

“Oh yeah, I got y’all,” she said coming outta her lil daze. “What y’all? Running,” she asked.

“The 100-yard dash,” Tim said.

Flick said, “It don’t matter, whatever he wanna run.”

“All right then, y’all head to the starting line, and let me know when y’all ready.”

“Coach, we ready!” Tim screamed.

“All right, ready, set, go!”

Both boys took off, and Tim was the first out the gate. But just as quick as he took off was just as quick as he got caught. Now Flick was running side by side and stride for stride, with him talking, “Dog, come on, I know you faster than that.” As they crossed the finish line at the exact same time.

“A tie!” Coach screamed. And she really couldn’t believe it, but it was a tie. She yelled again, all excited and shit, running up to Flick, talking ’bout, “Boy, I didn’t know you was that fast. If the both of y’all run together, we can win everything.”

“Na’ll, Coach. Do it again,” Tim said, breaking her excitement for the moment. “I tripped,” Tim lied.

“Okay, that’s all right with you, Flick?” Coach asked.

“I don’t care.” As Flick looked over at Pokey, he was all smiles, ’cause Flick just let him know he could beat him.

So Pokey walked over to Turtle who was saying, “I can’t believe this shit.”

“Hey Turtle.”

“What’s up, nigga,” Turtle said, heated.

“Them niggas ’bout to race again, you wanna double the bet?”

Before Turtle could say anything, the skinny kid named Wacko said, “Bet them niggas double, dog. That’s more money for us.” With Rachet in his other ear screaming, “Man, bet that shit!”

“It’s a bet,” Turtle said with a little doubt in his voice. If he lost the bet, the money wasn’t a problem. Turtle knew he could pay that with ease, it was just the thought of his dog losing the race to a nobody, is what bothered him the most.

“Y’all ready?” Coach screamed.

“Yeah,” they both said.

“All right, ready, set, go!”

They took off again, but this time Flick came out first, and that’s how it was, all the way to the finish line. Flick won.

“Baby, you beat that nigga,” Rosie said all happy.

Then Flick watched his two friends give each other dap and walked off to collect the money from Turtle and his crew. When Turtle paid the money, he said, “Look, we gonna do this shit again next week.”

“Ya boy just had a lucky day,” he said and walked off, hating the fact he lost his money to some lames.

“All right,” Pokey said, walking toward Flick with a big ass smile on his face. “Dog, you did that,” Pokey said, giving Flick half the money they just won.

“Back that up,” Flick said.

“Damn, Pokey, you said that nigga was fast, but I didn’t know dog was moving like that,” Fatboy said, happy for his dog.

As Pokey gave Fatboy half the money he had left, “Thank you, dog,” Fatboy said, giving Pokey dap. As they turned to start walking home, let’s roll, they said.

Just as the three boys were leaving, Rosie’s mom pulls up.

“Hey Rosie, ask ya mom will she drop us off at the projects,” Flick asked.

“Mom, will you drop my friends off home for me?”

“You better tell them come on,” she said.

“Come on,” Rosie screamed all excited, as they all climbed in the car. About five minutes later, they were getting outta the car. Thanks, they all said. As Rosie said bye, and her mom pulled off, “Damn, that woman be driving like she crazy or something,” Fatboy said.

“Tell me about it,” Flick said. “I didn’t think we was gonna make it back to the projects, the way she was in and out of traffic. Man. I ain’t never been scared in my life, but that was one time I was scared as fuck. I even told God to please forgive me for my sins, ’cause here I come.” Then they all laughed at how scared they were as they began walking to their buildings.

“I’mma holla at y’all later,” Flick said, rushing home to tell his mom he holds the crown in racing now.

“Well, today was a good day,” Fatboy said, “so I’mma go call my shortie. I’ll see you in the morning, dog.”

“All right,” Pokey said, walking off.