Page 26 of Love & Vendettas

13 – ZAIRE – BIBLE STUDY

TWENTY-NINE YEARS EARLIER

“Li’l G, I ain’t gon’ lie. I didn’t think you had the balls to hold this shit down while your old man was away, but you’re showing real promise,” Blacc confesses.

Bobbing my head up at him, I reply. “I told you. I watched my Pops. Watched all you ol’ heads.”

“Old? Who the fuck is you calling old, young buck? You think I’m old?” he asks, laughing at me.

“I turned that shit around faster than you could have, didn’t I? Also peeped you on game about that li’l investment.”

“Mm, yeah. Thanks for that on the real, dawg,” Blacc states, dapping me up while he gives me a key of dope. “Just watch yo’ back in these streets, okay? Some were happy to see your old man go down, and I know they’re not too happy at seeing you come up as his replacement.”

“Yeah, I know. Fuck ‘em.”

“Oh, a’ight. I see you. Just be careful, like I said,” Blacc repeats.

I nod and head out of the house, looking left and right. I peep at the cars around the place, all of them I know. I look up and down the street again, checking out the houses to make sure shit ain’t out of place.

Satisfied that all seems well, I head down the block to the bus stop, grabbing the straps of my backpack and tightening them just a little.

I shove the glasses up on my face and straighten out my bowtie. Blacc and the old heads laughed at my getup when they first saw it, but it works. It keeps the folks off me. When they seeme, they see another young, Black brother, but they see one who ain’t even trying to cause any problems.

I look like a straight nerd in this getup, like I’m about ready to sell bean pies. But I’m still young enough to look like I’m in school, which I am. With this Bible in my hand, it adds an extra layer of protection.

It ain’t like I don’t need it. Mama hollered at me for being blasphemous and said I was going straight to hell.

I told her that I was just trying to fill in where my pops left off without the extra problems. I believe in God, and I know that He knows I’m just trying to look out for my family. I need His protection just like the next man.

It’s been hard since my pops went away. He’s been gone for a year now. My pops got sentenced to twenty years for trafficking and gun possession.

I’m in my senior year of high school. I promised my mom that I would finish if nothing else. I’m committed to keeping that promise, but I also need to bring in some money to help her with these bills. When it comes to the pay that I’m asking for, Burger King ain’t letting me have it my way, and McDonald’s ain’t loving it.

I know that my mom can’t do it on her own, so I had to get out in these streets and do something. While Blacc didn’t take me seriously when I first approached him, I had to prove to him that I knew what I was doing.

Something told me that Essence didn’t turn over everything the night that she set my father up. So, I’d broken into her house one night while she was gone clubbing with some friends, and sure enough, I’d found another brick of coke that she held back.

I thought about the conversations I’d overheard my pops having with some of his men and the things that I’d seen that he didn’t know that I saw. I began to put everything that I learnedabout the game to use, along with a few tricks of my own, and started making money quickly.

That shit happened so fast that Blacc sent for me. When I told him what I was doing, he couldn’t help but put some respect on my name and my game. The little connection he was talking about that I hooked him up with was a chop shop around the way that he could get in on.

Blacc has some guys who like nothing better than stealing, but they don’t know what to do with the cars other than go for a joyride. Once I hooked him up with Patch, he was able to put those boys to work to make a pretty penny for him, them, and Patch.

I’d simply asked for him to look out for me if it worked out between them.

I need to turn things around faster, though. I’m not stupid, either. I know I have to be careful because fast thinking and foolish desires make for fatal mistakes. Lately, my mom’s been stressed out, complaining about headaches, sleeplessness, and hearing noises at night. I just want to make it easier for her.

I hop on the bus when it pulls up and head to the back, feeling pretty good about my most recent haul. I see a cute little shorty checking for me as I pass her up. She smells pretty good too.

Probably got jokes to make about my getup, but I don’t give a shit. If she knew the type of money that I was hauling in, those jokes would turn into appreciation.

But I ain’t got time for no honeys, especially not ones who only look at my pockets anyway. My mind is focused on getting us another car. The one that we had was taken when my pops went to jail because he had that shit in his name and not my mom.

I’ve got enough to get us one now, but I can’t move too fast without drawing attention. Besides, I still have to help her with the bills and keep enough to re-up when needed.

I pull my backpack off and sit down. Pulling the headphones from the front pocket, I think about how much I’m about to make off this product that I’m carrying as I turn my CD player to Rakim’sPaid In Full.

Yeah, it’s eight years old, but it inspires me every time I hear it.

---