Chapter 8
Sylvia seemed to be the only wise person in Marcus’s life. Even though he was young and doing the wrong thing, she still wanted to give him the best advice on how to invest his money. Marcus would always listen to her suggestions, which sometimes sounded like motherly demands. He never reacted to her plans for him; he always kept them in the back of his mind. Although Marcus was young, he was smart enough to know that the money he was making weren’t going to last a lifetime.
One early morning, Steve drove through Avers, hoping to catch Marcus. “Aey, make sure security stay on point.” Marcus stood on the block, instructing Pee Wee on keeping the joint secured. “If the Ds are able to get close-up on whoeva’s workin’, that mean they ain’t doin’ their job. Get rid of they ass quick and don’t pay’em shit if that happens.”
“I’m already on it, lord,” Pee Wee said as he took a pull off his Newport.
The six o’clock dope traffic started accumulating through the alley while Marcus and Pee Wee continued to converse. The dope (heroin) always brought in the most money during morning hours. Dope fiends must get their sickness off before the start of their day.
Out of nowhere a two-door white Acura Legend with dark tint speedily turned the corner in the process of pulling up directly where Marcus and Pee Wee were standing.
“Who the fuck is this pullin’ up like they crazy?” Pee Wee stated in a hushed tone while gripping the handle of his pistol on his waistline.
“Whoever’ it is fenna’ get it,” Marcus replied calmly while looking away from the car, but easing his hand toward his waist, seconds from drawing his protection.
Neither of the two recognized the car and was ready to unload at any second. After about a ten-second standoff, the driver-side window began to slowly lower down.
“Don’t kill me, young blood,” Steve stated with a murderous grin covering his mug. “I’m jus’ tryn’a holla at'chú.”
“What the fuck,” Marcus whispered to himself while looking at Steve with a disgusted expression.
“Man, Unc, we ain’t kno’ who the hell you was, rolling’ up on us this early in the morning,” Pee Wee jokingly said while adjusting his pistol back in place.
Marcus continued his conversation with Pee Wee like nothing happened. Marcus really had nothing else to talk to Pee Wee about; he was basically making Steve wait. Steve waited in the car patiently for about fifteen minutes.
“Damn, you too busy to give me a minute?” Steve asked Marcus in an irritated tone.
“Let me see what this nigga want,” Marcus said in a low-pitched tone, talking to Pee Wee. “I’ll be right back.”
Marcus shook up with Pee Wee before heading to the car.
“I wonder what the hell this nigga want,” Marcus whispered to himself as he reached to open the passenger-side door of the Acura.
Steve had been making several attempts to get in contact with Marcus in the past by riding through Avers, but to no avail. He knew if he had any chance of catching up with him, it had to be during early morning hours.
“Wassup?” Marcus asked aggressively as he settled inside the car.
“Wassup wit’chú?” Steve replied
“Shit, you said you wanted to talk, so talk!”
“Man, look, I didn’t come ova’ here to argue wit’chú or be kissin’ yo’ ass. I jus’ been thinkin’ ‘bout chú and I don’t wonna see you get fucked up out here in these streets!” Steve expressed himself rigorously while looking at Marcus staring out the passenger-side window.
“You sho’ it ain’t the other way around?” Marcus asked while still looking the other way, avoiding eye contact with Steve.
“What!” Steve snapped. “You think I wonna see some’nt happen to you out here?” He asked without getting a response. “Your family loves the shit out of you. And yo’ momma, lord knows she'll be devastated if somethin’ happen to you in these streets.”
“I’ll be straight,” Marcus simply replied without showing any emotions.
“Why you got so much animosity built up toward me . . . ?” Steve asked, showing much concern. “I been in your life since you were a little boy and you always showed resentment toward me.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck been going’ on!” Marcus all of sudden snapped while quickly turning his attention toward Steve. “You think ‘cause it’s been so many years I was gon’ forget?”
“What the hell you talking about?” Steve fired back with an angry and confused expression.
“My pops’ murder!” Marcus countered angrily. “Now explain that since you wanna talk so bad!”
“That’s what this been about all these years? You think I killed yo’ ole man?”
“If you didn’t do it, you know who the fuck did!”
“Look, Marcus, let me tell you something’. I know how important it is to have a father figure. I would never want you to grow up without your father . . . ,” Steve began to explain. “Yo’ ole man was a renegade, a real go-getta’. He never joined a nation and didn’t give a fuck what a nigga claimed to be. If he wanted to get'chú bad enough, yo’ ass was through! Even though we never saw eye to eye, I must say yo’ ole man was a stand-up guy. I jus’ hate that he started fuckin’ wit’ that shit ‘fore he died.” Steve spoke as if he was reminiscing while staring into space.
Marcus sat there in complete silence for a moment. He couldn’t deny the fact that his pops started snorting blows (heroin) toward the end of his life.
Marcus and Steve conversed for a couple of hours. In the midst of their conversation, Marcus revealed how he didn’t appreciate how Steve showed favoritism toward Chris when they were younger. Steve was very apologetic and really didn’t have an explanation for his past actions. Steve knew how the two bosses worked, and he didn’t want Marcus being blindfolded. Marcus took everything Steve was saying into consideration. Believe it or not, he accepted his apology, and they moved on. Marcus knew Steve had been involved with the Vice Lord Nation for at least twenty years, so he had the knowledge of the streets. Marcus figured Steve had to have some type of love for him because of his mother, Sylvia, so he felt like he could put some trust in Steve’s future advice.
After their conversation, Marcus began living his life a little happier and moving even smarter and swifter in the streets. Everyone, including Sylvia, saw how their relationship had mended; they were spending more time with each other in the streets and with the family. This made their household much more lovable!
As time went on, things seemed smooth, but of course everyone wasn’t on the same page.
Spoonie, the person who kick-started Marcus’s hustling career, was beginning to whisper things to Smitty about Marcus.
“Wassup, Chief?” Spoonie greeted Smitty while taking a seat at Edna’s Soul food Restaurant located on Kedzie and Madison.
“Ain’t nuttin’ to it. You eating’ some'nt’?” Smitty asked while stuffing his face with a mouthful of smothered, baked chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and sweet corn.
“How badly I wanna stay and eat wit’chú, but I’mma have to take a pass today. I jus’ came to drop off this package to you and ‘spit a bug’ in ya’ ear,” Spoonie said while sliding under the table a large plastic footlocker bag with two Nike shoe boxes full of money.
“Too busy to sit and eat huh, that must mean business is goin’ good, I like that,” Smitty said jokingly as he took another bite of his food. “What is it that you gotta tell me?” Smitty asked, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief, with a more businesslike approach.
“I was jus’ wondering’ how often do you see Marcus since he been doin’ his own thang?” Spoonie asked curiously.
“I see him maybe once or twice a week,” Smitty replied while taking a sip of water. “I’m tellin’ you, that boy doin’ his damn thang to be so young. He runs through about a brick ‘n’ a half and at least two to three hundred grams of dope a week! Dat’s damn good for a joint that jus’ opened
up. Why you ask have I been seeing him, what’s goin’ on?” Smitty asked after praising Marcus’s hustling abilities.
“Nuttin’, I was jus’ wondering’ ‘cause he ain’t been coming’ thru Twenty-first to holla’ at none of the brotha’s ova’ there in a while. It seems like since he started rotating wit’ them conservatives he been straying away from the nation ‘slowly but sho’ly.’ I jus’ hope he ain’t forgot who put’em on!” Spoonie said in a low but aggressive tone.
“Well, I do understand that he’s been rotating with his ole man lately but I ain’t got no problem wit’ that. We all a family, and the loyalty still there,” Smitty explained. “But you can never be too sure about nuttin’ these days, so that’ll be something’ I’ll keep on my brain.”
“That’s all I’m saying’, Chief. I ain’t tryn’a start no confusion within’ the nation but this is what the streets is saying’ and seeing’ wit’ their own eyes,” Spoonie explained while noticing Smitty being in a deep thought. After a few seconds of silence, Spoonie said, “Let me get outta here. I got’a few runs to make. You need anything else befo’ I ride out, Chief?”
“Nah, you don enough. I’ll holla at'chú a little later,” Smitty said with a serious expression on his face as if he was contemplating on his thoughts.
Some would say it was envy that was starting to boil up in Spoonie because of the success Marcus was having in such a short period of time.
Marcus wasn’t aware of what was being said at the time because he felt that he was doing the right thing and everything was love. No matter how much money Marcus was making, he continued to get all his work from Smitty and attended every mandatory meeting. In Marcus’s eyes, everything was going smooth, and since both nations had joined as one, he didn’t feel that it was a problem if he ran with the conservatives a little more.