Pokey, watch out, “ Fatboy screamed as he saw the black beat-up car turn around at full speed, an AK-47 sticking out the back window. Tat-tat- tat-tat was the only sound heard as the car sped by, turning another corner. Fatboy looked left and right to make sure the coat was clear. Taking a cautious step he called out, “Yo Pokey -Pokey.” As he called his one true friend, he heard a low moan, looked to his right and saw his best friend lying in a pool of his own blood. Running over in a state-of-shock, he reached his friend, only to hear him say, “Dang, its over. Dropping to his knees, he grabbed Pokey’s bullet-ridden body and slowly placed his dying body in his lap. “Pokey, you hear me? You gonna be okay,” Fatboy told him as he felt the tears escaping from his eyes. “They coming dawg. The ambulance on the way. They going to fix you up, good as new. Just hold on my nigga, “whispered Fatboy. Pokey heard his friend telling him to hold on, but it was hard. “Fat, it’s burning my nigga. My body on fire,” Pokey moaned, struggling to breathe. “Just keep talking to me and hold on,” Fatboy said, “I hear them coming now.” Fatboy looked up and saw people huddled around them, trying to see what was happening. “what the fuck y’all looking at,” snapped Fatboy,” get some help. Somebody help my dawg!” “Fat…Fa… Fatboy, “Pokey stuttered.” Dawg, its okay. I’m ready to leav…leave thi…thi…this world, and go… go on, to the…next li…lif…life.” “Naw dawg, just hold on. You got to fight my nigga, “said Fatboy.” I…I can’t, “Pokey stammered, reaching up with the little strength he had left, and wiping a tear from his friend's eye. “Fat… Fatboy, it’s over. Be strong my nigga and…and never sto…stop ‘ti…’til the worl…word…world is yours, “he said as he took his last breath. “No my nigga,” cried out Fatboy, shaking Pokey to no avail.” He went young man an old lady said, shaking her head as she saw the pain in his eyes. She knew somebody was going to pay dearly for this young man’s anguish.” He gone baby. The good lord done took him on up to Heaven. “She reached a hand out to help him up, but instead she saw him just drop his head, look back up at her, then close his friend’s eyes. Standing up, he looked down at his dead friend and whispered, “My nigga, I love you and I promise to bring death to whoever took your life from at the sad old woman who looked like she had lost her own child and told her, “Thank you.” Watching him walk off slowly with his head held high, she silently said, “God protect that poor child.” Not knowing that Fatboy could and would stand on his own, receiving strength from his dead friend like he never knew. “Now I got to get myself together,” he thought while looking down at his bloody clothes. “Damn, my nigga gone.” Stopping to look over his shoulder, he saw the paramedics laying a sheet over Pokey. Memories of them together flashed before his eyes. He smiled as tears slowly slid down his cheeks. Wiping them away, he started walking home. When he entered the house, his oldest daughter, Tykia, ran up and gave him a hug. “Hey daddy,” she said, only to have him kiss her on top of her head and keep walking. As he walked into the den, he saw his youngest daughter asleep in his favorite chair. He kissed her and let her sleep. When he stood his wife was looking at him from the doorway, concern all over her face. “Baby, what happened? Are you okay,” she asked, looking at the blood covering his clothes.” I’m okay,” he responded, as he walked by her. “Talk to me, Shakia screamed. “What happened? Why you all bloody? You promised me you were done with the street life,” she yelled running up to hold him, but he closed the door in her face, locking himself in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he didn’t recognize himself. “How one minute you and your best friend living life to the fullest, got everything and anything you ever wanted, then the next minute, your best friends life is gone,” he said as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He punched the mirror causing it to shatter and fall all over the floor. Shakia started kicking the door, yelling, “Baby, open this damn door! Please. Are you okay?” “Listen, Shakia, please just let me mourn my loss solo. I promise I’ll be alright, “he cried as he sank to the floor holding his head in his hands.” I’ll be okay, “he kept telling himself, but he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t be himself again until whoever did this was laying six feet deep, just like his friend. As he started to wipe a falling tear from his eye a song by plies popped in his head, 1 Day. Listening to the song play out in his head he realized that he needed to let Pokey’s mother know what happened to her son. He jumped in the shower and memories of Pokey and him came flashing back. How they used to clown, the first day they met in k-mart projects, all the money they made together, and other times they had hung out together. All that was just a memory now he thought as he turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around himself, and walked into his room. As he entered the room he saw his lovely wife lying in their bed reading a book called “G.A.B.O.S- The Game Ain’t Based On Sympathy.” She looked up and saw him and the pain etched on his face. She put the book down, got out of bed, and made her way to him wrapping her arms around him. She asked, “Baby, what happen? Talk to me.” As he began to talk he lowered his head on her shoulder for a minute, then looked up and said, “Baby, just know this…no matter what happens in this life, I’ll always love you.” Removing her arms from around him, he walked into the closet and began searching for clothes.” What the fuck does that supposed to mean, Fatboy? What the fuck does that mean? What the hell did I do that you shutting me out? Talk to me please, “she began to cry. “Alright,” Fatboy said, coming out the closet dressed in all black. “And where you going, “she said. “ Listen, you want to know what happened, just be quiet. The blood you seen on me, that was Pokeys blood. We was on, on our way to the park, and some niggas just pulled up blasting. Murk my dawg in broad daylight like he wasn’t shit. That’s what’s wrong with me. My nigga gone.” “So now you bout to go do something stupid and fuck your life up,” she began to scream, “You got a family to worry about.” Yeah, you right, but Pokey was also my family, or you forgot that! Without Pokey, we wouldn’t have shit. Nothing! Not this big old house, not all these cars, not millions sitting in all our bank accounts! So, remember one thing; me and Pokey was family, too.” “Baby I know that, but we need you.” As soon as she said that Tykia and Tazzaria walked in the room, holding hands. Looking at the faces of his two beautiful daughters made him want to just chill, but he knew he couldn’t so he called his little girls over to him, “Tykia and Tazzaria, come here for a minute,” he said, with his arms out. When they walked into his arms and hugged him, he began to shed tears.” “Daddy, why you crying,” Tazzaria asked as she looked at her daddy, who she loved more than anything.” Shh Baby, I’m okay. I just want you and Ty to know something. Today Uncle Pokey when to heaven. That’s why y’all see me shedding tears.” “Are we going to move daddy, “Tazzaria asked.” Naw baby, everything gonna be the same, just Uncle Pokey won’t be around no more.” “Okay Daddy.” “So listen, y’all go have fun, and later on when I come back home, we’ll go out to eat or something,” he said, kissing both of his daughters on top of the head before they left the room. “Baby, promise me you ain’t going to do nothing stupid, ”Shakia said. “I can’t promise you nothing I don’t know.” “What about us? What about your daughters,” Shakia asked, tears rolling down her face.” Believe me, I’ve thought about that and one thing we both know is, if something happen to me, y’all will be well taken care of.” “Fatboy, do you really think we care about all this,” she said, pointing around the room. “You can take all this shit back to wherever it came from. As long as we got you, we’ll be happy.” “Damn baby, listen. I know all that, but I can’t let them get away with killing my best friend. I just can’t.” “I’ll find out, trust me. Money talk and loose lips sink ships. Whoever did it will brag about how they murked a top nigga in the streets. It’s just a matter of time.” Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.” I got it, “Tykia yelled.” No baby, I’ll get it, “Fatboy hollered reaching under the mattress to snatch the loaded 9mm kept there. Tucking it behind his back, he started towards the door, but stopped and turned around.” Shakia, I’ll be back, I promise and I won’t do nothing stupid unless I’m forced to and once this is handled, I’m done. He told her. Watching her get back in bed and grad the book carried a very true statement. The game wasn’t based on sympathy. The sound of the doorbell ringing again brought him back to the present. I’m coming, chill,’ he yelled as he opened the door, gun hidden from view, just in case. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him.” Pop Larry! What you doing her? Fatboy asked. I heard about what happed to Pokey earlier and I know you. I thought maybe you could use a lil help. Pop Larry you came home from doing damn near all your life in prison and I can’t see you going back because of me. I appreciate you not wanting to see me back, but you know I’m my own man. I know that Pop Larry, but at the same time, I can handle it. If I need you – you know I’ll call you. Alright now. Don’t be afraid to come on out them bushes. I’m round the corner if you need me. Alright Pop Larry, said Fatboy, giving the old man some dap before he walked off. Damn, Pop Larry still a fool, Fatboy was thinking while he walked toward the all-white box Chevy sitting on dubs. When he hopped in the ride it occurred to him that he just might be able to use Pop Larry, but first he had to let Mrs. Queen know what was up.
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