Chapter 20 ( Gabos )

Rude Awakening

“Damn, where am I?” Pokey said, looking at this bright light that was before his eyes. Trying to pick his hand up to block the light but realized he was too weak, when he started hearing voices.

“Pokey, Pokey, nigga, say something. Damn, you got them big-ass eyes open, but you ain’t saying shit.” He heard the voice again, this time trying his hardest to remember where he was and say something. But all that came to mind were the years he spent in prison, fighting for his life, ’cause this nigga and that nigga was hating on him. One memory in particular stayed on his mind. The night before he was to go home, a couple niggas tried to stop that from happening. He could see it clearly now, three niggas running off in his cell. While he was lying down reading a book called the Jux, his roommate Old School was asleep, or so he thought, when outta nowhere, one kid pulls something that looks like a knife but was a prison shank, just as deadly as a knife.

“Yeah, nigga, I know you thought we was gonna forget how you did our boy. I told you, I promise I’mma get you before you make it home,” the kid said, making his way closer to the bunk, when outta nowhere, Old School jumped up with a shank as long as a sword.

“Look, lil niggas, if y’all wanna make it home alive, y’all better get the fuck up outta here, ’cause whether y’all like it or not, this kid right here will see the streets tomorrow.” As the kid with the shank started to say something, Old School said, “Man, y’all got ’bout ten second before I start using this bitch.”

As Pokey watched the three dudes leave, he said, “Thanks, Old School. I guess them niggaz didn’t wanna see a nigga make it home.”

“Look, Pokey, I know you got the heart of a lion, but tomorrow you going back to the free world. Get out there and do something with your life, ’cause a lotta people ain’t lucky to leave and make it outta prison in one piece. So be thankful and always remember what I told you, life is precious, don’t fuck it up being stupid.”

“I got you, Old School.” Pokey remembers saying watching the light go dim, when he heard, “Pokey, dog, real shit, we need you out here. If you can hear me, dog, it’s been three weeks, and you still ain’t saying shit,” Fatboy said, watching his dog move his hand then his head. As Mrs. Queen and Mr. Big walked in, Pokey blinked his eyes, “I know you heard me, nigga,” Fatboy said, looking at his dog, who looked confused as hell.

“Man, what happen? Where am I?” As he tried to sit up, he couldn’t, so he looked over at his mother who had her mouth covered with her hands and tears falling from her eyes. “Momma, what’s up? Where am I, and what happen?” he asked his mother, with a weak voice.

As his mother came to his bedside, “Baby, I’mma let ya lil friends tell you what happen, ’cause they no better than me. All I can tell you is that you’re in the hospital, you been in a coma for three weeks now. And I’m just grateful you came out of it,” she said, letting the tears fall.

“In a coma?” Pokey asked, trying to sit up.

“Yeah, dog, in a coma,” Flick cut in.

“Nigga, how you feeling?” Flick asked Pokey.

“Other than weak, I just got this big-ass headache,” Pokey said, trying to smile for his friend. “So what happen, ’cause I can’t remember how or why I got here,” Pokey said,

“Look, dog,” Fatboy said, “let me see if I can refresh ya memory. Three weeks ago, you remember we was chilling at the house when you was about to call yo Uncle Sico for some help when it was a knock on the door, but before we could do anything, three dudes kicked the door in, catching us by surprise. You wouldn’t get off the phone, you acted like the niggaz wasn’t even there, so one kept hitting you over the head with the gun. Good thing you stayed on the phone though, ’cause ya Uncle Sico and Mr. Big came rushing in just in time. I guess really with you being hardheaded and staying on the phone, you saved all our byes. You remember any of this?” Fatboy asked.

“Yeah, dog, it’s coming back to me, slowly but slowly now. So what happen to the—” As he was about to ask what happened to the three dudes, the doctor walked in.

“Well, I see you finally decided to wake up,” Dr. Van said. “I’m just gonna check your vitals right quick and make sure everything is normal. And if so, within two to three days, you should be able to walk outta here with a little help.”

“Hold up, doc,” Pokey said, “what you mean with a little help?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing bad. It’s just that you have been in this bed for three weeks, plus you lost a lot of blood, so you will be a little weak, until you start using your legs again, that’s all,” Dr. Van said.

“Oh, cool, I thought I was paralyzed or something,” Pokey said, feeling the relief come over his body.

“Well, everything seems to be going good,” Dr. Van said. “So I’mma leave y’all alone, y’all have a nice time,” the doctor said, walking out the door.

“Baby, listen, I hope you learn from this, and whatever it is y’all was doing, I hope y’all will leave it alone,” his mother said. “But right now I gotta go back to work. As soon as I get off, I’ll be back,” she said, bending over and kissing him on his cheek.

“All right, Mom,” Pokey said, feeling better already.

“Look, Pokey, now that Mrs. Queen is gone, I want you to know the three niggaz that did this to you are dead and stinking’. Ya old. I mean Mr. Big, didn’t even play with them,” Fatboy said.

“So what happen to all our money?”

“Dog, to be real with you, we wasn’t even worried about no money. All we was worried about was you. When ya Uncle Sico untied us, he told us to get up outta there, that he would handle everything. So we left the place and came straight to the hospital. But as soon as we leave, I’ll go by there and scoop the money up.”

“All right,” Pokey said, not liking the fact Sico was left alone with their money, hoping everything was how it is supposed to be. If not, somebody would pay.

“Anyways, dog, we just glad you decided to bounce back. Money we can make again, but a life once it’s gone, ain’t no coming back,” Flick said.

“Anyways, dog, we gonna go check on that right now,” Fatboy said. “’Cause I’m pretty sure Mr. Big wanna holla at you for a minute,” Fatboy said, looking Mr. Big square in the eyes. “Before we go, we did see ya Uncle Sico ’bout two weeks ago. He said holla at him when you can.”

As Fatboy and Flick left the hospital, they were thinking the same shit, “We ain’t see this nigga Sico since the last time he rode up on us in the projects when them niggas tried to take us out the world. The nigga ain’t been to see his own nephew, not one time.”

“Man, something ain’t right with that nigga Sico,” Fatboy said aloud.

“Yeah, I feel that. I was thinking the same shit,” Flick said, having another bad feeling about something. “Dog, while I drive, keep ya eyes open for us. Don’t want to get caught slipping again,” Flick said, heading back toward the project.

Back at the hospital, Pokey was looking at Mr. Big all crazy and shit, ’cause Mr. Big was just looking at him but not saying shit.

“Mr. Big, man, what’s up with you? Why you acting all funny and shit?” Pokey asked.

“Look, Pokey, it’s something important I got to tell you,” Mr. Big said, “but I don’t know how.”

“Is it something bad? Something wrong with me, I’m missing a leg or something?” Pokey said, feeling for his leg.

“No, no, nothing like that. I just, I just thought you should know the life you living, you don’t have to no more. I’mma make sure you straight,” Mr. Big said.

“And why would you wanna do all that?” Pokey said.

“’Cause I’m your,” Mr. Big couldn’t say the words.

“You’re my what?” Pokey said, trying to sit up. “You’re my what? Man, what the hell is going on with you? First, you looking at a nigga all crazy, then you start to tell me something then just stop. It’s that bad you can’t even tell a nigga what’s on your chest, but you always spitting that bullshit ’bout my word is everything. Well, tell a nigga what’s on your chest. What, you don’t wanna fuck with us no more? No big deal, nigga, we can handle our own,” Pokey took off. Trying to figure out what it was this nigga had to say, until Mr. Big cut him off.

“I’m your father. There, I said it. I’m your father.”

“You my what? Nigga, you tripping! My father died when I was a baby, that’s what my momma told me. Now you saying you a nigga father. Man, I ain’t trying to hear that,” Pokey said.

“Look, you need to calm your ass down with all that yelling,” Mr. Big said, “and just shut up and listen. Look, back in the days me and your momma used to mess around. Actually I was in love with her and vice versa, but it was one thing I loved the most.”

“And what was that?” Pokey asked.

“The call of the streets,” Mr. Big said. “She gave me a choice, said I could either choose her or lose her. I guess you know what happen.”

“Yeah,” Pokey said, “you lost her, ’cause you wanted to run the streets with ya thug and thought she would be waiting for you.”

“Yeah, Tupac, you can say that,” Mr. Big said. “But I’m thinking the reason she told you your daddy was dead was because I was dead to her, and she didn’t want you following in my footsteps, which is understandable if you ask me,” Mr. Big said.

“So you really a nigga father,” Pokey asked.

“Yeah, I am. That’s why you so much like me, ’cause my blood runs through your veins.”

“Is that right,” Pokey said. “Well, look, just like you dead to my momma, you dead to me. You aint’ been there in the beginning, ain’t no need in trying to be here now. I mean you still cool, Mr. Big, but you could never be my father. It’s too late for that, I’m a grown man. And everything I learned, I learned from the streets.”

“So you willing to die in the streets?” Mr. Big asked.

“If you didn’t stop them nigga from killing me, I’ll showed you I’mma die for mines,” Pokey said, dead-ass serious.

“So you still gonna try to run the streets after almost dying?” Mr. Big asked.

“I’mma run the streets till I get what I want, or the streets stop me by killing me.”

“And ya friends, you gonna take them with you?”

“Mr. Big, maybe you don’t get it. We, that means, me, my dog Fatboy, and Flick, bleed the same blood, we in it to win it.”

“And what if ya friends tell you they through with this life then what?”

“You nosy ass fuck,” Pokey said. “But they know the rules, death before dishonor. And if they choose to back out, then I guess they know GABOS.”

“Is that so? So you’ll take your own friends’ life?” Mr. Big asked.

“Look, Mr. Big, if you try to stop what I’m doing, or them, I’ll try to take your life. Just as well as theirs, if they get in the way. I guess you can call me coldhearted, but maybe if I had a father around, shit wouldn’t be like it is now. So blame nobody but ya self,” Pokey said.

“Yeah, you dead right,” Mr. Big said. “I’mma holla at you later.”

“Cool,” Pokey said with a crazy looking grin on his face. “Fuck you, nigga, and fuck my friends if they rolling with you,” Pokey was thinking, as the meds kicked in and he dozed off.

Fatboy and Flick got out the car and walked up to the project building. As they got closer to the door, they realized the door was ajar just a lil.

“Man, be careful,” Flick said, pulling out his pistol.

“All right, dog,” Fatboy said, pushing the door open to nothing but an empty crib. Everything was gone, wasn’t nothing left in this bitch, not even a blood spot.

“Man, go see if the nigga Sico put the money in the stash spot,” Fatboy told Flick. As Flick moved the rug, he noticed there was no lock for the stash spot, so he just pulled the lid up and looked inside.

“Na’ll, dog, ain’t shit in here. This bitch clean as a motherfucker.”

“Yeah, dog, I checked the rooms, and those shits clean too,” Fatboy said.

“So what the fuck happen to all the shit? Our money is gone, the lil dope we had is gone.”

“Only one way to find out, Sico,” they said at the same time.

“But how we gonna get in touch with the nigga?” Flick asked.

“Man, your guess is as good as mines, but the way things looking we gonna just have to get the number from Pokey and let him know what’s up.”

“Dog, something just ain’t feeling right ’bout this shit. First we get robbed, then a nigga try to take us out. Now this shit,” Fatboy said, looking ’round the empty house. “Something just ain’t right. I feel like we being set up, but by who and why?” Fatboy said.

“Dog, it is what it is. We just gotta stay on our p’s and q’s till we get to the bottom of this. That’s what’s up,” Flick said. “Let’s head back to the hospital and check on Pokey right quick,” Flick said, hopping behind the wheel, as he watched his dog climb in beside him.

Now on the other side of town, Sico was doing his thing with the money he robbed his nephew and friends, for he was balling outta control. He had his own money, but he called this free money. And with free money, a nigga could splurge, and that’s what he was doing. Smoking as much crack as he could, but at this particular time, he was chilling with another baser by the name of Kela in her run-down apartment. As he watched Kela take a hit off the pipe, she began to take off all her clothes. And even though she was a baser, she still had a banging body, standing at 6’1”, brown skin, nice round titties, and a fat ass to go with the fattest pussy you ever seen. She began to stick finger after finger in her soaking wet pussy. As she began to moan, Sico instructed her to come to him, which she did. As she began to unbuckle his pants, he stuck two fingers in her pussy and said, “Damn, this pussy wet.” As she turned around and sat on his lap, watching her ride him up and down, he forgot all about the fact people told him she had AIDS. As she began to go faster and faster, Sico grabbed her hips and began pulling her down as hard as he could on top of him to hear the sounds of swssh swssh.

“Damn, this pussy wet,” he said. As she looked back at him and smiled, screaming, “Get this pussy!” As he watched her body began to shake, she cried out, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, faster, faster!” As Sico felt himself begin to explode, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment, not realizing what he did, until it was too late. As he pushed Kela off of him, he zipped up his pants, and just walked out the door. As he started walking down the stairs, Kela, buck-ass naked, ran behind him, “Oh, that’s how it is, you just gonna fuck a bitch than leave? Nigga, you ain’t shit, basing-ass nigga!”

“Look, bitch,” Sico said, stopping in his tracks. “I ain’t ya NIGGA. But to shut you up, here you go,” he said, giving the girl fifty dollars and a fifty piece of rock, which she gladly took.

“Thank you. When I’mma see you again?” she asked.

“I’ll be around,” he said, walking off. When he made it to his car, he had a strange feeling come over him, like something bad was about to happen, but shook the feeling, jumped in his ride, pulled out his pipe, placed the crack on it, and took another hit. As he was pulling, his cell phone began to ring. On the second ring he answered, “Yeah, who this?”

“Nigga, this your brother Sterling.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Look, I just left the hospital with Pokey. I told him I was his father, and the nigga said in his eyes I was dead. So when he come home don’t help him do shit, since he think he can do it on his own. I’mma show him without me, he ain’t shit,” Mr. Big said, hanging the phone up. Knowing now where the feeling came from, fuck it, he said, taking another hit.

“Shit, like nephew say, GABOS, so it is what it is. He should have learned never bite the hands that feed you.” As he was about to take another hit, he heard, tap, tap, on his window, which scared the shit outta him. Rolling the window down, looking in the face of Kela, the bitch he just got done fucking.

“Man, what’s up? Why the fuck you beating on a nigga window, like you the police or something.”

“Nigga, I was just bringing your ass this dingy-ass bag you left in my house,” Kela said, handing Sico the book bag that belonged to his nephew. As she passed him the bag, she stuck her head in the window, sniffing the air. “Damn, nigga, that’s how it is, you smoking solo now.”

“Bitch, if you don’t get ya crabbing ass on somewhere. I just broke bread with you, now you want the whole hog,” Sico said, rolling the window back up, resuming what he was doing before he was interrupted, taking the last hit, pulling off from the curve.

Back at the hospital, Pokey was just telling his homeboys how he told Mr. Big he was dead in his eyes, and he never had a father, so he don’t need one now, so he could get the hell on.

“Damn, dog, we could have just used the nigga,” Flick said, “’Cause now we ain’t got shit but the clothes on our back and the rides we purchase. Other than that and the lil money we got put up, we back to ground zero,” Flick said.

“Nigga, what you mean, we strapped? Or you forgot about all the money we left at the crib?” Pokey said.

“That’s just it, dog,” Fatboy said, “when we went to check on shit, everything was gone, money an’ all. The place was spotless.”

“So y’all telling me the money we risked our life for is gone?” Pokey said, sitting up in the bed.

“Yeah, dog, unless ya Uncle Sico got it. Remember I told you he said holla at him when you jumped.”

“I’mma do just that. And if the nigga ain’t got our money, somebody besides me will be lying in this hospital bed, that’s on everything,” Pokey said.

“I’m feeling that, dog. Also on our way home earlier, some niggaz creep up on us and started busting. Lucky for us all the bullets missed,” Flick said.

“Yeah, but it fucked my window up,” Fatboy said.

“So some niggaz tried to get at y’all?” Pokey asked really to himself. “Something ain’t adding up. First we get robbed, all our money is gone, now y’all telling me some niggas tried to take y’all out.”

“Yeah, that its,” Flick said. “So the thing is, we gotta stay under the radar, or stay alert at all times.” As Pokey was ’bout to say something to his friends, his mom walked into his room unsuspecting.

“I’mma holla at y’all later. I gotta holla at Mom’s right quick. When y’all leave, make sure y’all stay outta trouble. I should be up out this bitch tomorrow or the day after,” Pokey said, thinking about the dirt he would do to whoever crossed him. “Payback is a bitch,” was his last thought, as he watched his friends walked out the door.

“How you feeling, baby?”

“Oh, I’m feeling fine, nice of you to ask,” Pokey said. “Mom, look, I’mma get straight to the point. Why you lied to me all these years, telling me my daddy was dead? Now all of a sudden, this nigga pops up talking ’bout he’s a nigga daddy. That’s messed up. So let me ask you an honest question, when does a heart stop bleeding? ’Cause nothing to the point has been able to stop the constant stream, the hole you made in my heart is too big. You plunged your knife into it that day you lied to me about not having a father. ’Cause all I went through could have be avoided probably when I woke up wondering what had happen, what I done. This nobody nigga I met at the park is in here, telling me he’s my father. Why couldn’t you tell me, why not you? I thought me and you had a bond that couldn’t be broken, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Baby, we do have a bond,” Mrs. Queen said, letting her tears soak the floor. “I lied to you ’cause I didn’t want my only son following in the wrong person footsteps. But I guess it was something I couldn’t change nor stop, ’cause you falling right into the same life he trapped in. So yes, I lied, I had to lie to keep him out our life. I loved that man with everything I had, and he choose the street life over me, over us,” she cried. “I’m sorry, yes, I’m sorry that he found away into your life. I’m sorry you had to learn about this, this way, but some things I can’t change.”

“I know,” Pokey said.

“Baby, I’m just glad you’re okay, that’s all. And I hope that all you went through will open your eyes and help you enjoy life more, ’cause we only get one chance at it,” she said.

As Pokey began to talk again, “Mom, what if I would’ve died, I would’ve went to my grave believing my father was dead. Now how can a son forgive his own mother for her disloyalty? I didn’t ask him to be my father, you did, ’cause that’s who you loved at one time.”

“Look, Pokey, all I can say is I’m sorry, and if I’m wrong for wanting the best for you, then so be it. But you gotta learn in life, without adversity you have no character, without character you have no hope. Always keep in mind, never lose hope, ’cause I never lost hope in you. I love you,” his mom said. As she turned around and headed for the door, reaching out her hand to turn the knob, Pokey called out.

“Hey Mom, all is good. I forgive you, and I love you too. It’s him I refuse to forgive.” As Pokey said those words, Mrs. Queen turned around and walked back to his bedside and kissed him on his forehead.

“Thank you, baby. But now that your father is in your life, don’t you want him to stay?”

“No, I’m good. I never had a father growing up, I can do without now,” Pokey said, watching Mrs. Queen lower her head.

“Baby, look, I’mma head home and cook. Hopefully you’ll be outta here tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mom, I’ll see you later.” As his thoughts kept drifting to how he was gonna get the man they called his father. “One or the other would be king, and I never knew two kings who ruled the same palace,” he was thinking. “So one of us gotta die,” he mumbled as he watched his mother close the door. To leave him alone with his own thoughts, which was a deadly combination.