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It Is What It Is. Montez Jordan
Читать онлайн.Название It Is What It Is
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781456605094
Автор произведения Montez Jordan
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Издательство Ingram
“Yo. Where you at?”
“Man, I heard the shots and got outta there. I hopped in the car with Candy, and… ah Sacha right?” he asked, trying to make sure he got the girls’ names right. He had met them on his way to the dice game. “Where y’all at?”
Chit chatting with some females had saved Pimp from witnessing the death of his brother. He had no idea that Cho and Swervo were involved with the shooting.
Cho tried to keep his composure. “A yo tell ‘em to bring you to the Amoco on Orleans Street by Old Town Mall. I need to holla at you.”
“Alright, cool. I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”
“Later.” They hung up. Cho watched the ambulance arrive, but he knew they weren’t going to be able to bring Swervo back. So he got in his car and pulled off. Tears started falling from his eyes. He didn't understand the turn of events. Everything was going fine. How couldn’t I see that these niggas were on that tip? How’d I slip like that? Who the fuck are these niggas? How am I gonna tell Pimp? This nigga gonna wild out.
“Shit! What the fuck? Swervo!” he screamed. So much shit was going through his mind. His heart was racing. As he pulled into the gas station, he saw that Pimp was already there, engulfed in what seemed to be a funny conversation with his new lady friends. As he pulled beside them, Pimp noticed he was in the car alone. Once they made eye contact, Pimp could see the puffiness and redness around Cho’s eyes. He knew what it meant but did not want to believe it.
“Where’s my brother?” he asked calmly. Cho just looked at him. He could not put the words together. “Yo, where the fuck is Swervo?” he shouted. The tone of his voice made the girls stop their conversation and focus on what was wrong with Pimp.
“He’s gone,” Cho said under his breath. “There… was…” He searched for words to explain, but he couldn’t get it out. He looked down and took a deep breath. Cho tried to fight the tears but couldn’t. He wiped his face and looked back at Pimp. “Some niggas… some niggas robbed the dice game and shot yo in the process… Swervo is dead.” He kept eye contact with Pimp.
Once his words registered in Pimp’s brain, Cho saw something in his eyes that he had never seen before. They were full of fiery and rage. Cho knew shit would never be the same after that day.
• • // • •
When Cho got to the corner of North Avenue and Washington Street, his eyes scanned the block looking for Randy. Where the fuck is he? Cho said to himself. As soon as he finished the thought, Randy came out of a school-turned-apartment building, crossed North Avenue and waited for Cho to pull over. When the car lined up to the curb, Randy hopped in and they drove off.
“What the fuck you listening to?” Randy asked, squinting at the radio.
“Earth, Wind and Fire. I’m in my zone right now. Nigga, what’s good?” Cho replied, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Everything is everything. They be lovin’ that shit over here. It’s like 10 different dopes in the building but the word is getting out. In another week or two, I’ll have this bitch like the Carter,” Randy grinned. “You shoulda been gave me that shit. It’s a goldmine over here!”
Randy had been trying to get his little cousin to put him on for over a year. It was funny because just a few years back, it had been the other way around. Randy was one of the top players in East Baltimore. He was well-respected and had been getting money for as long as Cho could remember. The only problem was he had a blow habit and it had begun to take a toll on him.
One night the police walked down on him while he was in a deep nod in his car. When they shined a flashlight in his face, they could see residue still on the tip of his nose and in his mustache. He also had a half gram of raw heroin crushed in a $100 bill in his hand that he had planned to sniff if he hadn't started nodding.
Once they saw that, the cops searched the vehicle and found a .357 Magnum under the driver’s seat and $30,000 in the trunk. Randy was so high he didn’t even realize that he got himself knocked off. He did three and a half years on a five-year bid and was released to a drug rehabilitation program. That was five years ago.
By the time he came home, everything that he had before his arrest was gone. His girl had spent all of his money and his connect had been murdered. He needed lil’ cuz to help him get back on his feet. He wanted his spot back and Cho could put him right where he left off.
Cho didn’t have a problem with it. He wanted some of that Eastside money, but he had to make sure that Randy was ready. He didn’t want him to relapse and make the same mistake again. He knew East was a goldmine, but he wouldn’t allow his greed to outweigh his instincts. A dope fiend was only good for doing dope fiend shit. Randy hadn’t got high since that night, and as far as Cho could see, he didn’t plan on fucking around again. He was ready, and once Chico was up and running smoothly, Randy was next.
“I didn’t know it was that much money in the building. I had an idea, but to see it… shorty, it’s a beautiful thing. The hallways be packed with people 24 hours a day. I think those numbers that we assumed to make are going to double or — on some real shit — triple.”
“Get the fuck outta here!” Cho interrupted in disbelief.
“Sho’nuff lor nigga! I’ve been doing this shit here for a long time, and I know what the fuck I’m talking about. If you stay consistent with that smack right there or it gets better… shorty, we gonna be straight. I feel like this is it for me, so I got to get it this time. We good! I’m tellin’ you cuz. We good! Just keep that shit comin’!”
Cho shook his head in agreement. “Fo’sho.” Keeping it coming went without saying. It made Cho feel good to see his cousin so confident. His drive to get money was relentless and he was determined to get back on top.
Cho dropped Randy off where he had picked him up. They had driven around the neighborhood a few times to complete their conversation. Niggas were nosy and the streets were always watching. No one needed to know who Randy was talking to or who the driver of the Honda Accord was.
Cho headed back west. He was going to ride through Chico’s block, but changed his mind. He looked down at his watch. It was 6:00 pm. Them lil’ niggas should be about done for the day, he thought. Back in the ‘hood, Cho made sure that the drug traffic was at a minimum after 6:00. By that time, most people could get their fix for the evening. It also meant that everyone that lived in the neighborhood was home from work and school. He wanted the community to be able to relax without having run-ins with fiends. He expected peace in the ‘hood. Keep the neighborhood on your side, he would always tell the young niggas on his team. Everything was in order as he rode through.
He parked his car and went to Sheila’s house. He figured Scrappy would be there soon to bring him up-to-date with the day’s revenue and events. But instead of going inside, he just sat on the porch, admiring the little kids that ran up and down the street. He wished he had kids of his own.
All of his homeboys had kids, and all of their kids loved Uncle Cho. He loved them right back. Cho loved kids period. He couldn’t figure out how in his 26 years on earth and all the women he had dealt with, none of them had made him a father.
As his thoughts raced on about fatherhood, his phone vibrated, bringing Cho back to the present. It was Chico. Carrying their usual coded conversation, Chico briefly informed Cho that all was well. He hung up, grabbed his other phone with his left hand from his waistband to call Radi and placed the phone in his right hand back on the clip. When Radi answered, he told him that he and Ol’ Head would be down at Mo’s later. Radi declined the invitation because he had to do something for Tiff. Depending on what time they were done, he said, he would come down there. Cho knew that was bullshit. Radi wasn’t going anywhere but in the house.
As much as Cho teased Radi, he was also jealous. He