BURY ME A G, #1 Page 7

  Faison sat down in a chair beside her bed. He lay back in his chair and watched her chest rise and fall as the breathing tube pushed oxygen into her lungs. Tears rolled down his face as he thought about what had been done to his sister. He didn’t know who it was that shot her and for their sake they’d better hope he never did because if he ever caught wind of who the shooter was they would be on their knees begging for a quick death.

  Faison had vowed to take care of his little sister but this time he wasn’t around to help her, and it ate away at his conscious.

  ***

  Faison was kneeled on the ground shooting dice amongst a host of kids his age and older. In one fist, he clutched a few dollars while the other fist rattled the dotted cubes. He chewed his tongue, determined to roll out a seven or an eleven on the come out. He threw his hand forward, letting the cubes roll off of his ashy palm. The craps danced on the asphalt. The first one stopped on a five while the other kept spinning.

  The boy’s faces frowned and they whispered under their breaths what they wanted it to land on. The dice slowly stopped turning, stopping on two. A look of disappointment washed over his face and his shoulders slumped. “Fuck!” He cursed, kicking over the empty Pepsi can.

  He was about to catch the fade of the next shooter when he heard his sister over his shoulder.

  “Faison, Faison!” A nine year old Ta’shauna came running as fastas she could, tears spilling from her eyes and flowing through the wind. Faison turned around with a scrunched forehead wondering what was wrong with his sister.

  “What’s wrong, Shauna?” He gripped her shoulder as he asked out of concern.

  “Those boys...” She paused as she was out of breath. His heart thumped fast under the crack of her emotions as she rubbed her eyes, lips trembling. “Those boys—they—they...”

  “Calm down, Shauna,” Faison leveled his eyes with hers. “Take a deep breath, now tell me what happened.”

  Ta’shauna took a deep breath and exhaled, calming herself down. She wiped her eyes and told her big brother what happened.

  “The Dickson brothers took—took my doll.”

  “Where they at?” Faison asked, ready to get into some niggaz asses for fucking with his little sister.

  Ta’shauna pointed across the street to two boys, one brown and the other fair skinned. They were posted up outside of a liquor store, passing a joint between them. The brown one was holding the Raggedy Anne doll, playing in its stringy red hair. He blew smoke out into the air, eye fucking Faison from where he stood. He tapped his brother and pointed at him and his sister. The Dickson Brothers laughed loud and hardily.

  Faison rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and jogged across the street, his little sister on his heels. When he stepped upon the curb, the brown skinned Dickson boy dropped the half of joint he had left on the sidewalk and mashed it out under his All Star Chuck Taylor Converse.

  “Give my sister her doll back.” Faison demanded of the brown skinned brother.

  He twisted his lips, looking him up and down. “I ain’t giving her shit back, nigga. You betta beat the street ‘fore you catch a bad one out here.”

  “I said, give my sister her doll back.” Faison fumed, clenching his fists tightly.

  “I ain’t gon’ tell yo fat ass again, kick rocks.” Brown skinned ordered, stepping forth, scowling.

  “Arghhh!” Brown skinned doubled over and dropped the Raggedy Anne doll. When he went to grab his pained testicles, he was cracked across the jaw. He stumbled off to the side and crashed to the sidewalk.

  Faison swung on the other brother and he caught him square on the chin, dropping him. Dazed, he crawled toward the doll. He pulled it into him, just as the brothers pounced on him, giving him a good old passionate ass whipping.

  He tucked the doll to his chest and balled up into a fetal position and squeezed his eyelids closed as the Dickson’s wreaked havoc on his body. Faison winced as they brutally assaulted his form with all they had. Blood ran from his ears and nose, and his lips were busted.

  “Stop! Stop! Stop it!” Young Ta’shauna screamed at the top of her lungs, veins running up her neck and tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Shut up, you lil’ bitch!” The oldest of the Dickson brothers hollered at her, spit jumping from his lips. She rushed him screaming and swinging, clocking him in the balls. He doubled over in pain with his eyes bulged and his teeth clenched. He swatted her like a fly and she went flying back, tumbling a short distance.

  Stump! Stump!

  “Punk ass mothafucka, damn near broke my jaw.” The youngest of the brothers shifted his bottom jaw back and forth after stomping on Faison. He then spat blood on the ground and nudged his sibling. Together they made their way up the block laughing at what they’d done to young Faison.

  Ta’shauna scrambled to her feet and ran over to her brother. He grimaced as she pushed him over on his side.

  “Faison, are you okay?” She questioned concerned, forehead running with lines.

  “He—here,” he said through swollen lips, holding up the Raggedy Anne doll. A smile christened her innocent face and she took the doll. She clutched it to her chest and closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

  “Oh, thank you, Faison, thank you. You’re the best brother in the entire world.” She hugged and kissed him on the cheek as he rose from the ground.

  “You welcome.” He spoke like it hurt to do so. Seeing him limp along and almost falling, Ta’shauna threw his arm over her shoulder for support. They walked beside each other, looking at all of the kids standing around watching them.

  “Are you alright, Faison.” She looked up at his wrinkled face and him holding his side.

  “I’ll make it.”

  “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

  “Well, believe it. I’m your brother. I always got cha back.”

  “Always?” She smiled.

  “Always.”

  ***

  Faison reached over and grasped Ta’shauna’s hand, gently stroking it as he spoke. “The streets ain’t talking, T. Nobody seems to know who it was that popped you and Orlando. Look, sis, I’ma get that nigga for you, though. All I need is for you to come outta this coma. I need you to come out and tell me who did this to you.Gimmie something to go on, anything. And I’ll find this batty boy and splatter his ass. I swear on everything I love.”He kissed her hand and rose from his chair. He walked to the door, stopped and turned around. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for her before continuing out of the door.

  Faison came out of his sister’s room and made a beeline down the hall where he spotted his mother. The moment she saw him, a weak smile formed on her face and she hurried over to him, wrapping her arms around him. She embraced him lovingly.

  “Oh, Junior, I’m so glad you came.” Faison’s mother’s voice cracked under her emotions. “Have you been to see your sister yet?” He nodded yes. “Come here, everyone is inside the waiting room.” She took him by the hand and led him into the waiting room. He was hesitant but he went along to appease his mother. He hugged and kissed his aunts and female cousins, and slapped hands with the men of his family. He made sure he greeted everyone except his father, Faison Reed Sr.

  Faison Sr. and his son had been beefing since he was fifteen. Faison Sr. had found an ounce of weed in his son’s sneaker and kicked him out of the house, even after his wife begged him not to. After spending a couple months out on the streets, Faison Jr. tried to return home but his father wouldn’t let him. He cried and pleaded with his father, but the old man wouldn’t budge. He’d warned the boy twice before in the past about bringing drugs into his house, and the stunt he pulled was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  In turn, he told his father he was dead to him before returning back to the streets he now called home because she was the only one that would accept him with all of his flaws and imperfections. Like a mother she’d fed, nurtured, and raised him, and eventually brought him into the man he was today. Ever since
then Faison Jr. hated his father with an undying hatred.

  His father had sent him out into the cold world alone. A place no child should have to face without the proper tutelage, tutelage that could only be passed down from a father to his son. Faison Sr. was supposed to have been the man to groom him for it, but instead he discarded him like a piece of trash.

  Faison kissed his mother goodbye and made a beeline for the door. Seeing his son headed in his direction, Faison Sr. rose to his feet and removed his fedora, holding it with both hands as he watched his son approach. His forehead wrinkled with surprise when his son walked right past him and headed toward the door. He’d almost made it through the door when his mother, Gloria, grabbed him by the sleeve of his trench coat.

  “Junior, aren’t chu gonna say hello to your father?” her brows furrowed, as she looked at her son as if he was burning up with a fever.

  “Who? This nigga?” Faison pointed to his father. “This mothafucka ain’t my father, my pops been dead since I was fifteen.” He looked his father up and down with a glare, then said, “Fuck him!”

  Faison Sr. stepped into his son’s face. “Let’s get this understood, boy! I am your father, and you will show me the proper respect!”

  Faison looked at his father like Who in the fuck do you think you are? “You got life fucked up, old man. I’m not a kid anymore, I’ma grownass man, so miss me with that respect shit.You ceased to have that the day you threw your baby boy out on his ass!”

  “Is that what this is all about? Some shit that happened fifteen years ago? You brought that on yourself! I’m the father, you’re the son! My house, my rules, you abide by them. You didn’t, so I tossed your ass out. And if I could go back, I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I’d do it all over again.” He rained spittle in Faison’s face as he wagged his finger.

  Fasion’s anger got the best of him and he smacked his father’s hand from out of his face. His father responded by punching him in the jaw. The blow whipped his head around. Faison countered by cracking his father across the chin.The punch spun him around and left him on the floor, knocked out cold.

  Gloria rushed to her husband’s aide. She looked up at her first born as if he was the devil himself when she saw him unconscious. She couldn’t believe he had the gall to put hands on his own father. What she didn’t know was her baby boy wasn’t the kid that left home fifteen years ago. He was a grown man scarred by hard living and corrupted by the ills of his environment. He was a ghetto bastard.

  The next day...

  “One more week and I’ma free man, baby.” A smile curled Tiaz’s lips as he thought of his freedom.

  “Yeah. I know.” The jovial expression melted from Chevy’s face as she looked down then back up again in his eyes. His eyebrows lowered and he angled his head, seeing the uncertainty etched across her face.

  “Babe, what’s wrong?” He inquired, his thumbs caressing her hands as he held them.

  She took a deep breath and began. “I want chu to promise me something.”

  “Anything, Love.” He stared into the depth of her eyes, sincerity lingering in his.

  She took a deep breath. “Promise me you won’t go changing on me as soon as these people give you yo walking papers.”

  “Of course not, baby. I already told you, it’s me and you.”

  “I know. But you know how a lot of these guys are once they are from behind the wall. They promise single, broken, naive women the world to get what they want and then once they are outside they switch up.”

  “Oh, so I guess you’re just gon’ toss me into a bag with the rest of these niggaz up in here, huh?” His eyes took a quick scan of the convicts sitting at the tables and moving about.

  “I’m just scared of getting hurt again, is all.” Her eyes pooled with tears and ran down her face. Seeing her like this tugged at his hearts strings. He wanted so badly to cleanse her of all of the hurt and pain she felt. And he knew that he could too. It was just going to take some time.

  “Don’t cry, Queen, ‘cause you hurting me right now.” He brought his hand to her cheek, sweeping his thumb back and forth across the side of her face. “My heart bleeds when I see you like this. Hear me when I say this, I’m nothing like any of the niggaz that you’ve ever dealt with. I’m gon’ leave such an imprint on your heart that anyone you entertain after me will have to know me in order to understand you, you hear me?”

  She nodded yes and held his hand to her face, closing her eyes and brushing her cheek up against it lovingly.

  Her heart had been poisoned by tainted love and his touch was the antidote. The more he talked the more she wept. She silently prayed to God that he was the one for her. The one she needed in her life.

  “I know its gon’ take some time but I’m gon’ make you a believer.” He swore, holding her gaze and meaning those words with every cell of his being. “I’ma give you a love that’s only beenheard about in fairy tales. Trust and believe in me.” His eyes were glassy and swimming with honesty. “I’ma give you the love you need, the love you want, the love you deserve. All I ask in return is for one thing.” He held up a finger. Her eyelids peeled open. They were pink and running wet.

  “What?” Her voice cracked and she sniffled.

  “That thing beating behind your left breastplate.” He pointed and she looked down, touching her bosom. “That’s right, your heart. That’s all I want. That’s all I need from you. You give me that and I promise with my right hand before God I’ll make you the happiest woman on the face of this earth.”

  “You mean it?” She wiped her eyes and licked her lips.

  “You’re damn right I do.” He swore up and down. “I’ve never been as sincere as I’ve been about anything in my life until this very moment.”

  “Okay.” She nodded rapidly.

  “Okay?” He questioned with a grin.

  “Yes.” She grinned, still nodding and gripping his hands.

  “I promise you won’t regret it.” He brought her hands to his lips, kissing them affectionately. He then rose to his feet and embraced her lovingly, squeezing her tight in his strong arms.

  Later that night...

  “What’s up with chu, Boxy? I’m feeling a lotta heat radiating from off that stool.” Jaquez said hunched over a glass of Hennessy.

  “Just been thinking, is all.” Boxy said, mad dogging no one in particular as he stared ahead.

  “Thinking about what? Spit it out. You look like you just found out that your bestfriend’s been fucking your baby momma or something. And I know I ain’t touch ‘nan part of Shan’s big ass. She could beg me to suck my dick and I wouldn’t let her do it.” He laughed and nudged Boxy, looking to get a witty comeback which on any other occasion hewould have gotten from him. Boxy cracked a halfhearted smile, but Jaquez could tell that whatever was on his mind had a strong hold on him. “Damn, am I gonna have to beat it outta ya? Talk to your nigga. What is it?”

  “This shit with Don Juan, man, bringing this new nigga in.” Boxy confessed. “You see how he ran that game with me? Like I’m stupid and just don’t know any better? I studied dude long enough to know how he gets down. He can’t just tell me anything. I’m not one of these duck ass hoes he be fucking with. I was just playing the role.”

  “Why didn’t chu call ‘em out on it, Box? You let a nigga pull the shade over your eyes once and he’s sho’nuff gon’ try it again.”

  “Nah, I’m not tripping.” Boxy rubbed on his shaved chin. “I know how to play the backseat until the driver gets to where he’s going.”

  Jaquez’s forehead wrinkled. He didn’t know what the hell Boxy was talking about. “What’re you getting at? It’s like your speaking in riddles, nigga. Use layman’s terms.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Don Juan.The nigga walks around with his ass on his shoulders, like his shit don’t stink. Here we are making all of the moves and all of the money. All he does is cop the dope and set it out. We’re the soldiers.” He jabbed his finger into the bartop for emphasis. �
�We cook, bag, and sling the shit and our guns are going off when niggaz are getting outta line. We’re putting in all of the work. All this nigga doing is sitting up in the big house getting fat off the sweat off our backs and the blood we shed. He’s not even setting us out.”

  “What chu mean, bro? We eating.” Jaquez corrected him.

  “Yeah, we eating, but not like we’re supposed to. Remember this, my nigga. And I call you my nigga ‘cause I fucks with chu the long way.Can’t nobody pay you how you gon’ pay yourself. It’s time we stepped our game up and become the bosses we supposed to be, feel me?”

  “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout. Well, shit, let’s tell Don Juan we stepping back to do our own thang. I’m sure he’ll front us, or at least cut us a deal on some work.”

  “Do you hear yourself? Once we venture out to do our own thang, he’s not gon’ do anything to help us. We gon’ end up being the competition. Therefore, he’ll be looking to knock us over so he can keep the whole pie for himself.”

  “So, what chu suggesting we do?” Jaquez asked. Boxy gave him a knowing look and a sinister smile spread across his face.

  The scandalous mothafucka was talking about robbing Don Juan and killing him. A man that had shown him nothing but love since he’d touched American soil.

  Boxy and Jaquez ran as fast as they could down the street, occasionally glancing over their shoulders at the angered mob behind them. Their faces were hot and coated in sweat. They huffed and puffed, sneakers pounding the pavement as they broke up the block. Boxy tripped on his loose shoe strings and fell, bumping his head on the ground, grimacing. Jaquez pulled him to his feet, taking the time to gander at their rear.

  “Come on, Box, they’re on us!” Jaquez warned him. Once he’d gotten his friend back on his feet, they kept running, their feet smacking against the cracked sidewalk. They dipped off into the alley being swallowed in the darkness. The stray cat that shot past their line of vision was nothing more than a blur it was moving so fast. The hostile voices of the brown faces at their backs increased their stamina. They knew that if the men got a hold of them that there wouldn’t be enough of them left for either of their families to identify them.