Page 10 of My Brother's Keeper
Dio’s eyes landed on his hand as they rose to him slowly. “Get your hand off me, and I thought you heard, a nigga is crazy,” he winked.
Crazy wasn’t the fucking word. It almost made me curious why Chevy had chosen his ass to be the Prince of the Zoo. My eyes searched the area, and I spotted Keith coming from the back with a tray in his hand.
“Bingo!”Dio said.
I thought as soon as Keith saw him, he was going to take off running, but to my surprise, he didn’t. Dio walked over to himand cornered him. “Healed up pretty good, that means I didn’t beat yo ass enough.”
Keith’s nose flared.“Fuck you!”
Dio smiled. “I should beat yo ass again, but because a nigga got a pretty ass woman sitting in the car waiting, I don’t have time. Where the fuck is your brother at?” he gritted.
Keith’s lip curled. “Nigga I’m not telling you shit. I hope he beats yo ass!”
Dio nodded slowly. “Nigga this Zoo, and if you don’t know by now, I suggest you find out quick. Keith, beating your ass was minor. I meant what I said before, I want to put a bullet in you. I don’t like your dry mouth, crunchy shirt-wearing, wannabe thug ass.Like I really don’t!” he barked.
Keith started to laugh. “And I’m still not telling you where my brother isnigga!I don’t like you either; for all I care, you can get smoked before you step out of this muhfucka. Nigga—”
I hit his ass. I hit him so hard that Keith flew back against the wall. I didn’t have the patience for the back-and-forth. Dio turned to me and smiled. “My kind of nigga.”
I glanced at Zay, who looked jealous. I knew he wanted to get in on the dirty work, but, as an athlete, he was extremely popular, so he couldn’t. He truly couldn’t do too much, and I think it’s what made him angry. Being a part of the Zoo had its perks for him, but it also made it hard for him to maintain his image as a star. For me, my fist was my voice. I couldn’t slick talk like them, it took me a minute to process my thoughts enough to get a clear word out, so I used my hands.
Keith had tried to swing back when Bishop came up on his side. “Y’all little niggas better ease up. Dio, Chev, know you here?”
Dio’s eyes flicked as they landed on Bishop. “Nah, I’m out, but your son,” he paused as he pointed at Keith. “That nigga better—”
My eyes landed on Zay, who pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked it. “Oh shit, Chev got Mison!” he said as he tapped Dio’s arm.
Dio nodded at Bishop, “Speak of the Devil. Looks like Keith got another day to breathe,” he said as he walked off.
Dio was calm for the most part, but there were times that nigga could be off his rocker. It was as if he were two different people. I wasn’t sure if he would ever let up on Keith, and frankly, I didn’t give a damn. We rushed out of the building and headed home, where Chevy told us he and Mison were.
MALI
The liquor harshly flowed down my throat. I tried to wrap my mind around the hole I’d dug myself into. I knew I needed to get with Beans to make some shit shake; that alone was going to be a task within itself. The one thing about Beans, the nigga didn’t do favors, and here it was, I needed to ask him for one. Kareem loved music; to him, it was his life and his escape. Although I ran, I was hoping the nigga eased up to buy me time. I knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t deliver, not now.
After all that shit, my conscience wouldn’t let up. After hearing what happened to Symphony’s father, guilt became my friend. It had added to the things I was already dealing with since the day I went to that damn party. The way that night played in my head over and over was a constant reminder of my mistakes and how I let my mother die. The days and nights merged into one.
Since we walked through the door, I knew Chevy was ready to let his fly trap roll. I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me. I called him because I knew this would happen, and it was better to deal with it now than later. While I waited for his cutthroat lecture, I poured myself another shot to ease my mind a bit more before he got started. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed. Nobody understood the shit I dealt with daily, but my liquid lover knew how to numb me just enough to get me through anything. I heard him ask. “What did you get yourself into, Mali?”
Another shot.This time, when I took it back, I let the sharp taste of the Whiskey rest on my tongue before sending it down my throat. “You don’t have to worry about it, Chev,” I mumbled.
I could feel his energy was dark, angry, and ready to condemn me. I pulled myself away from the counter as I looked up at him. “I’m good, Chevy, just trying to figure shit out.” I shrugged.
He looked at the bottle on the counter, then at me. “You like Whiskey, huh? How much do you drink a day? You know, I see you when you’re around, staggering and shit, words spewing from those drunken lips. Tell me what you’re trying to figure out because it damn sure isn’t your relationship with that shit!” he barked as he pointed to my bottle.
I waved him off. “I don’t have a problem, I’m good. You're mad cause a nigga likes to take a sip here and there? All you niggas drink, so what makes me fucking different? Or are you mad because I won’t let you be the hero in my story?”
Chevy chuckled. “Hmph. Ok,Mison. I tell you what, you’re right. You don’t have a problem, and a nigga like me is Stevie Wonder, I don’t see shit. What I do know is you, my guy, got yourself into some shit that can cause trouble for the Zoo,” he paused as he came closer to me. “The Zoo, the place you niggas wanted to be. The place that’s built on making your wrongs right, but you are going to fuck around and be hanging from a rusted pole fucking with me. You got brothers who need you. So, I’m going to ask again,nigga!What the fuck did you get into? Is it with that nigga Kareem?”
I could see his eyes judging me. Anything I wanted to say, I wouldn’t.Fuck Chevy. He didn’t know me; he only knew what he saw and ran with it. I waved his ass off again, “Man, I’m good. You can go!” I spat.
He nodded. I was waiting for more of the crass comments, the lecture, the criticism, but I got nothing. Instead, he walked out of my front door. When he left, I turned back to the counter and stared at the bottle. I picked it up slowly and poured another shot. I eyed the full glass, staring it down.Why was he mad?My problems were mine, not his.
That was the thing, this perfectly tinted brown liquid loved me as I loved it back. People disappointed you, people let you down, but this tiny shot of liquid stayed faithful. People wanted me to hate something that did nothing to me but make me happy. I mean, yeah, I drink, and some days I have a little more than others, but a nigga was good.
My father, now that nigga had a problem, and I was nothing like him. I snatched the shot and chugged it down as I thought about the situation with Scooter.“Fuck!”I grumbled.
Moments later, the sound of my brothers coming through the door caught my attention. “Mison!” Xavier called out.
