Chapter 7 ( Gabos )

Time for a Change

“Man, what the fuck is all that noise?” Fatboy said. Getting up, looking out the window. “Damn, this bitch swarming with polkes, I wonder what the hell done popped off now,” he said to himself, putting his shoes on, getting ready to head out the door.

“But where you going with ya noise ass?” his sister Tiffany asked.

“Man, I’m going on outside to get some fresh air,” Fatboy said.

“Yeah, I bet your noise butt, just going outside to see what done happen, that’s all.”

“Whatever, tip. I’mma holla,” Fatboy said, as he opened the door and jumped the stairs, two at a time. When he hit the ground, he saw Pokey and Flick, coming in his direction. “What’s up y’all?” Fatboy asked.

“Nothing, dog, we was just coming to get you,” Flick said.

“Dog, what the hell happen out here? Why all these crackers swarming the projects like this?”

“Oh, you ain’t heard? They kicked Mrs. Jones’s door in.”

“Na’ll, man. For real?”

“Yeah, dog. But the thing is Mrs. Jones acted like she knew they was coming. They said she went out with a bang, busting her gun.”

“What the fuck she do that for? She ain’t have nothing but some weed.”

“Na’ll, dog. They found all kinds of shits in her house. Kilos of crack, scales, money, and guns. I guess Mrs. Jones was doing her thing on the low-low.”

“Man, damn, I can’t believe this shit,” Fatboy said. “So where she at now?”

“Bro, the only way y’all ever see Mrs. Jones again is if you attend her funeral. When she just open fire on them crackers, they started shooting back. Said she died instantly. She got hit like twelve or thirteen times. People are saying, damn, another life.”

“Gone down the drain,” Fatboy said.

“So I guess you did see the news this morning then?” Pokey said.

“Man, I ain’t watched no news. I was asleep till I heard all the shooting going down,” Fatboy said, “Why?”

“What happened now, ya boy Maurice gone!”

“What you mean gone?”

“Oh, his momma snatch the plug on him. ’Cause they say the doctors told her it’s a 25 percent chance he’ll make it. But if he do, he won’t remember nothing.”

“He’ll have to start all over, so she just snatched the plug?” Fatboy asked.

“Yeah, dog. Said she know her son loved life too much to live it as a vegetable, so she pulled the plug, killed her own son,” Pokey said.

“They supposed to have his funeral sometime this week, said the services will be held at the church of God on Martin L. King Boulevard. You going?” Flick asked Fatboy.

“I really don’t know, dog. Sometimes I feel it’s best to remember people alive than dead,” Fatboy said.

“Look, if you decide to go, I’ll roll with you,” Flick said, feeling sorry for his friend.

“I’ll let you know, but as of now, I’mma fall back.”

“Look, they putting Mrs. Jones’s body in the hearse now!” Pokey screamed. “Then niggas over there look like they ’bout to go ham out this bitch. Y’all see them two niggas over there, they twins, them her two sons, and them niggas stay in some shit. They be locked up more than anything,” Pokey said. “But one thing for sure, them young niggas gonna keep it all the way live, Pokey said.

“Who you talking ’bout?” asked Flick. “Shine and Boo Boo?”

“Yeah, that’s them. Anyways, what’s up, what we gonna do, first off? Check this out right quick. Of half the weed we sold yesterday, we made three hundred and sixty dollars, so that’s one twenty apiece,” Pokey said, splitting the money up. “And once we sell the rest, we’ll make ’bout the same thing on a lil more. So between the three of us, we’ll have close to 250 apiece. A good lil come-up for free! Well, we know we can’t do shit today. With what just went down, we know them crackers gonna be here all day and night. So we gotta find something else to get into.”

“Like what?” Flick asked.

“Shit, I don’t know.”

As they started walking away, they seen Mr. Big’s BMW pull up, and out goes Mr. Big, looking around at what just went down.

“Let’s go holla at him,” Pokey said. “Mr. Big, what’s up?”

“What’s up, lil nigga? What happen ’round here?”

“Oh, the crackers ran down on Mrs. Jones and shot and killed her.”

“Damn,” Mr. Big said, as he put his head down. And when he looked back up, he had hatred in his eyes, and I knew this was a man nobody wanted to see or be fucked with.

“You all right, man?”

“Yeah, shortie, I’m good. You just don’t know how bad I wanna call my goons and kill all these crackers. But I gotta think,” Mr. Big said. In an angry tone, “Look, what y’all about to get into?” Mr. Big asked.

“Nothing. Why, what’s up?”

“Come on, take a ride with me,” Mr. Big said.

“All right, where we going?” Pokey asked.

As they climbed into the car, he said, “First I gotta make a run right quick. Then to ease a lil stress off my mind, I’mma take you young niggaz shopping and get y’all fresh to death.”

“Man, we ain’t got no money like that,” Flick said.

“Boy, I said I’mma take y’all shopping. So that means it’s on me, all right?”

“Shit, that’s cool with us!” Pokey said. “You wanna blow your money on us?”

“We ’bout that, boy. I got more money than you’ll ever be able to count and probably will see in your whole lifetime,” Mr. Big said. “Hey, y’all chill out for a moment while I think about a few important things,” Mr. Big asked them.

About thirty-five minutes later, we pulled up to some shit that looked like an abandoned building, probably was a storage room.

“Y’all just chill, I’ll be back in a second.” What seem like seconds turned into about twenty minutes, as chilling, so long.

Pokey turned around, telling his friends, “I told y’all, we was gonna come up fucking who this nigga.”

“We gonna see,” Fatboy said.

“Damn, this bitch cleaner in the inside than it is on the outside,” Flick said.

“Sho is,” they all said, looking around for the first time. “This nigga gotta be caked up, to be rolling in this shit.”

As soon as they finished talking ’bout the whip, Mr. Big came strolling back with a briefcase in hand, as he opened the trunk, he slid the briefcase in and slowly made his way back inside the ride. “Y’all ready to ride?”

“Yeah, man, we ready.”

“Y’all young niggaz smoke green?”

“Hell yeah,” they said. “Roll it up, and we’ll make it disappear,” they said, laughing.

“Look in the glove box, in the cigar box, its some joints in there. They already rolled up so just light it. Anyways,” Mr. Big said, “what y’all do with that weed I gave y’all?”

“Oh, we sold half of it already, and I got cha bread,” Pokey said.

“Young nigga, I like your style, a man who don’t want or take nothing for free. Will always make it to the top, but keep the money. I gave that to y’all as a present.”

“Bet that up,” they said.

“Y’all listening, first my name ain’t Mr. Big, it’s Sterling. But y’all can keep calling me Mr. Big, ’cause I like the way it sounds,” he said, laughing.

“We cool with that,” they said.

“Damn, you ain’t fire the joint up yet?” Mr. Big asked.

“We ain’t got no fire.”

“Damn, nigga. You scared to ask for a lighter, huh, man?” Mr. Big said, passing the lighter to Pokey. As they began to puff, puff, pass, all you could hear was soooooosh then coughing, followed by “damn, this shit the bomb.”

“Na’ll, you niggas just ain’t no real smokers,” Mr. Big said, turning on Misktal, still smoking. As the weed started to take effect, everybody started to chill and bob to the beat. As Mr. Big watched all three boys, he saw something in each one of them, which was the heart of a lion and loyalty till the death toward one another, which made his plan so much better. The thing was, could he trust these kids to hold a fort down that most grown-ups couldn’t? “I’ll talk to them later on,” he was thinking, as they pulled up in the mall parking lot.

“Damn, y’all gonna be all right? Y’all look like y’all about to puss out,” Mr. Big said, laughing as he looked at the kids.

“Look. When y’all get in here, y’all get whatever y’all want. But make sure y’all can carry that shit, ’cause I ain’t helping y’all carry nothing.”

“Okay, we got you,” they said taking off, running, then remembered who they were with and slowed down.

“Man, we tripping, we can’t be acting all lame and shit in front of Mr. Big,” Fatboy said.

“You right, dog,” they said, looking at Mr. Big.

“Man, do y’all. Y’all good, don’t worry ’bout me,” Mr. Big said, talking on his cell phone as they made their way around the stores. Within two hours they got everything they thought was fly. Good thing Mr. Big called his girls on the cell phone, ’cause it was no way we would’ve got all this in the car.

“Meet us back at the projects,” Mr. Big told the girls, as we loaded all our shit in the rides.

“All right, Daddy,” they said, taking off. When Mr. Big got back in the car, he had a serious look on his face, like he was thinking extra hard about something.

“You good, Mr. Big?” Flick asked.

“Yeah, shortie, I’m good. I was just thinking ’bout something, that’s all. Look, I wanna holla at y’all both something, but it’s gotta stay between us. What I just did today I usually don’t do, but I wanted to show y’all how shit can go, if y’all keep it real.”

“I also did this for another reason. I want make known at this time,” he thought, looking at Pokey.

“I just did what I felt needed to be done.” They never knew Mr. Big was talking ’bout being a father to his son Pokey.

“Always y’all like spending money, huh?”

“Shit, who don’t, but we’ll rather be spending our own cheddar, instead of living off another nigga cheese like a lil rat,” Fatboy said.

“Back to business, look y’all knew Mrs. Jones?”

“Yeah, who didn’t and don’t know Mrs. Jones? She be living in the projects her whole life, and she cool as fuck,” they said.

“Yeah, I know,” Mr. Big said. “And very loyal, I shouldn’t be telling y’all this, but I am. She died today ’cause of me.”

“What you mean ’cause of you?” Pokey asked, confused.

“Look, she was doing shit for me,” Mr. Big said, getting all mushy and shit. “She damn near raised me, she was the only mother I knew. When I started making real paper, I tried to buy her a house. Anywhere she wanted, but she loved the hood. Said this where she was born, and this is where she would die, she kept her promise. She always preached to me about keeping it real. That’s why I am who I am today, but listen, enough of that, I need some solid niggas on my team. Who can hold a fort down in the PJ’s till I can find someone trustworthy enough to do the right things. Y’all know anybody I can trust?” Mr. Big asked.

“Yeah, you can trust us.”

“That said, it’s a lot of work that has to be done, but I’mma try y’all out and see how y’all handled things.”

“So you gonna put us on?”

“Nope, y’all gone put y’all self on. I’mma just supply the work.”

“Word. So what we gotta do?”

“Listen, Mrs. Jones got two sons. One is Boo Boo, the other is Shine, ever heard of them?”

“Yeah, we know them,” they said.

“Well, them two niggas like my lil brothers, but they hotheads. What I’mma do is talk to them. Since they might still be stating in the momma apartment, I figure I could use them too. I’ll just let them know, the same shit goes, and business still gotta get done one way or another. I’ll let them know about you three how y’all gonna be in and out as needed,” Mr. Big told them.

“So what we gonna be selling?” Pokey asked.

“Look,” Mr. Big said, “whatever they want, it will be there. I kinda figure y’all didn’t know too much ’bout dope, so I’mma let Shine and Boo Boo teach y’all the ropes, till y’all can handle things on y’all own. Listen, y’all ever use that fire before?”

“No, but I will if I have to!” Pokey shouted,

“Look, I’mma get y’all right, ’cause in this line of work, you may need one. And always keep in mind, you pull it, you use it.”

“What about when we in school?” Flick asked. “’Cause I still gotta go.”

“Look, I still want y’all to go to school. Shine and Boo Boo can handle things while y’all gone.”

“Hey, Mr. Big, what about my Uncle Sico?

“Not to reveal too much,” Mr. Big said. “He’ll be cool, but if he ask you anything, tell him I said come holla at me, or hit me up at the crib.”

“All right, Mr. Big.”

“Now that y’all got all them damn clothes and shoes, I know y’all momma gonna ask questions and probably trip. So just tell them Sterling took ya on a trip. They all know me, so it should be cool,” he said, pulling up in the PJ’s and parking his car. “Damn, this shit hotter than a motherfucker,” Mr. Big said, looking at all the police walking back and forth. When he looked over to his right, he seen Shine and Boo Boo, looking lost and ready to snap. “Yo, Shine, and Boo Boo, come here,” Mr. Big said, giving them a hug and wiping a lone tear from his eye.

“Dog, they killed Momma.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mr. Big said.

“What we gonna do?” Shine asked. “Let’s shoot this bitch up,” he said.

“Listen, y’all know back in my day, I would’ve did just that. But in this game, you gotta learn to think. Listen, Momma gone, but we all know going to war with these crackers is a losing battle, and Momma wouldn’t be too happy seeing us in heaven so soon,” Mr. Big said. “Now look, I know Momma just got killed, but we gotta keep things in order. That’s how she would want it. Listen, I need y’all to run shit in the PJ’s for me, these three niggaz here my sons, they gone help y’all. I need y’all to teach them everything y’all can.”

“We got you, bro,” Shine and Boo Boo said, still wanting to flip some shit as they looked over at Pokey, Fatboy, and Flick.

“When we starting?” they asked.

“Give it ’bout three weeks,” Mr. Big said. “We gotta wait till things cool down, right now let’s concentrate on making Momma funeral the best ever!”

“Word,” Shine, and Boo Boo said.

“Bro, I’m holla at y’all then, but I need y’all to stay outta trouble for real,” Mr. Big told Shine and Boo.

“We got you,” they said, walking off.

“Hey, y’all. I’m finna get up outta here,” Mr. Big said.

“Y’all B-E-Z, all right, Mr. Big, and thank for the stuff,” they said.

“No sweat,” Mr. Big said, hopping in his ride and leaving the same way he came.

“Damn, Momma gonna trip when she see all this stuff. I know she is, but it’s free, so I ain’t giving it back,” Flick said.

“Look y’all, let’s go put all this shit up before these police-ass crackers come fucking with us,” Pokey said.

“Yeah, dog, we feeling that,” they said, picking up some of their stuff and carrying it upstairs till it was all put up.

“Pokey, bring your behind here right now, boy!”

“All right, Momma. I’m coming right now.”

“I wanna know where in the hell did you steal or get the money from to buy all that stuff you just brought in my house?”

“Oh, Momma, Mr. B, I mean Sterling, brought it for me.” At the mention of Sterling’s name, she almost passed out.

“You said Sterling brought you all that stuff?”

“Yeah, Mom, why?”

“Oh nothing, baby. I just asked to make sure you ain’t out there doing nothing wrong, that’s all,” she said. “Damn, this boy done got with his daddy. I just hope his daddy got enough since to keep out the street life,” she was thinking.

“Flick, boy, hold up, son. Come here,” Mr. Brown said, with a crazy look on his face. “Now where in the hell did you get all that stuff from?”

“Oh, Dad. Mr., I mean, Sterling took us shopping and brought us all the things we wanted.”

“Sterling.”

“Yeah, Dad, Sterling.”

“Damn, I hope this nigga don’t corrupt my son’s mind.”

“Look, boy, go put that stuff up before your momma come home, ’cause you know she’ll have a fit, and I ain’t trying to get cussed out ’cause of you. So hurry up, gone ’head, boy, and put that stuff up.”

“All right, Dad, I got you.”

“Whatever, boy!”

“Fatboy, damn lil bro, you done hit the lottery or something? I know you got something in there for me,” his sister Tia asked.

“Man, I ain’t got nothing. Somebody brought this for me.”

“Or you done stole it one. Wait till Momma see all that stuff, she gonna trip. What you gonna tell her now?” Tia said, “But I am,” his lil sister said. “Momma, hey, Momma, come look at this.”

“What, girl?”

“Look at all this stuff Fatboy got.”

“Boy, where in the hell you get all this shit from?”

“Momma, you always tripping ’bout nothing. Sterling bought it, he say call him if you don’t believe it.”

“What the hell he buying you shit for?”

“Momma, I don’t know. He just did, all right.”

“You better not be lying, cuz I’mma call his ass too.”

“All right, Momma. You always feel like I be lying to you when I’m always honest with you.”

“Whatever, boy. I’mma still call his ass, ’cause I ain’t about to just watch Sterling fuck your life up.”

“Mom, how he messing my life up if he helping me and telling us to stay in school?”

“He told y’all boys that?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Well, I still, boy. All right, finish putting that stuff up.”

“I got you, Mom.”

“When you done your food in the microwave.”

“All right, Mom, thanks!”

As he finished putting his things away, all he could think about was, “How she was gonna really act when I really start making money and be running around in new shit every day and driving all these difference cars? Momma gonna have a fit,” he said, laughing to himself, as he went to the kitchen to eat his food. With thoughts of his shortie on his mind, “Yeah, I’mma call shortie when I’m done fucking this food up,” he was thinking, as he began to get his grub on