The Holy City
Chapter 9
The summer of ‘93 was coming to an end. Smitty wanted to see if there was any truth to what Spoonie had been whispering to him. Smitty had an assignment for Marcus and Marcus only.
“It’s kind of’ dead out here tonight, ain’t it?” Marcus asked as he and Lil G smoked on a blunt while riding down Pulaski, a main street on the west side of Chicago.
“Hell yeah, that’s ‘cause it’s a Sunday night, everybody partied out,” Lil G replied as he took a long drag off the blunt and at the same time glancing in his rearview and side mirrors while steering.
It was a gloomy and wet Sunday night; Marcus rode the passenger side of a clean but low-key ‘92 four-door Maxima, which he sponsored. Lil G drove through different side blocks on the west side while they smoked and brainstormed on past and present events that had been going on.
“It’s getting late anyway. I’mma ‘bout to call it one in’a minute,” Marcus stated while yawning and rubbing the top of his head, which was filled with waves. From Marcus’s expression, you could tell the weed was taking effect and making him tired.
“Late . . . ,” Lil G retorted while glancing down at his wristwatch. “Shhiiit, it’s only nine-thirty, lord.”
“I know, but hell it feels like it’s about twelve-thirty.”
“Where you lay ya’ head at tonight?” Lil G asked.
“I don’t know yet. I gotta make a couple calls to see which one of my hoes gon’ act right, ya know!” Marcus said in a pimping fashion as they both shared a brief laugh.
As Marcus reached for his phone, it rang before he had a chance to put it to use.
“Yeah, who dis?” Marcus answered on the first ring.
“You already know who this is, wassup wit’chú, boa’?” The person on the other end stated confidently.
“Chief, what’s going’ on?” Marcus said with much alertness as he hand-signaled Lil G to lower the volume of the radio.
“Everything a’ight?” Marcus asked with major concern, recognizing Smitty voice instantly.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool. Aey listen, where you at right now?”
“We jus’ passed by Independence and Madison. I’m jus’ hittin’ a few blocks befo’ I call it a night.”
“Who wit’chú?” Smitty asked
“Its jus’ me and Lil G.”
“Aey, I’m leaving’ the south side from a lil get-together. You think you can meet me off the Independence exit in about ten minutes? I need to run somethin’ by you.”
“You know I’m already right here. I’m waiting’ on you,” Marcus replied respectfully.
“A’ight, I’ll see you in’a minute,” Smitty said as they hung up from each other.
Marcus got off the phone and sat in complete silence for a couple of minutes, thinking about his unusual meeting with Smitty. He figured it had to be something important for Smitty to meet up with him so late. Even though it was only about ten o’clock, Smitty always made his way home before eleven o’clock, and he never did business after nightfall.
“Lord, what got'chú ova’ there so focused, something’ wrong?” Lil G asked curiously.
“The hell if I know. Smitty want me to meet’em off Independence in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, some’nt gotta be wrong. You know he don’t usually be out this late.”
“I know,” Marcus agreed
Lil G turned a few extra blocks in the area to waste time. Marcus flamed up another blunt that was already rolled up; they both smoked in silence while thinking about the situation at hand.
With a thousand and one things rambling through Marcus’s mind as he smoked, his train of thoughts was interrupted by his phone ringing.
“Yeah, you made it?” Marcus answered the phone anxiously, assuming that it was Smitty on the other end.
“I didn’t know I was heading anywhere in particular.” On the other end was the voice of a young lady by the name of Nicole, whom Marcus had recently met that Friday in traffic.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How you doing’?” Marcus greeted in a friendlier manner.
“You know who you talking to?” she asked as if it was a trick question.
“Of course!” Marcus claimed as if he was certain.
“I’ll still be waiting if it was up to you to call me, huh?” Nicole said with humor.
After she made that statement, Marcus then knew exactly who he was on the phone with.
“Nah, it ain’t like that, sweetie. I jus’ had a lot of runnin’ ‘round to do this weekend and it slipped my mind,” Marcus replied.
“Aw, okay. I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”
“Not at all. What’chú gettin’ into tonight?”
“Actually I’m just leaving my aunt’s house, on my way home, bored as ever’.”
From the moment Marcus asked Nicole to pull over out of traffic so they could meet, he knew from their conversation that she was intelligent and had a high level of schooling under her belt. Even though Marcus never made it past the twelfth grade, he wasn’t illiterate by a long shot and knew how to talk with much sense.
“I know’ a beautiful woman like yourself not goin’ in alone?” Marcus asked seductively.
“Unfortunately yes, and it sucks!” She answered with a slight giggle.
“Well, you know the night still young. How about we get together so we can become better acquainted with one another?” Marcus spoke on the phone with his eyes low from the weed smoke, looking as if he was in his slick-talking player mode.
Lil G was barely paying attention to the road from listening so hard to Marcus’s conversation, wondering who he was slick-talking on the other end of the phone. Marcus’s crew knew he had the “gift of gab” for getting fine women that stayed outside the ‘hood. They were always anxious to see how the females looked because nine times out of ten they had nice-looking friends somewhere for them.
“I don’t mind. What you tryn’a do?” Nicole asked, sounding sexy as ever.
Nicole was fine as hell. She stood about five foot nine with a dark brown complexion, long jet-black hair that dropped down to her lower back, a beautiful smile with deep dimples, and perfect white teeth. About a size C-cup breasts and a nice plump ass with thick thighs and no stomach. A real stallion, she put you in mind of a Gabrielle Union.
Before Marcus could give a response, he was interrupted by a beep from the other line.
“Sweetie, hold on for a second, okay?”
“Sure.”
Marcus had to gather himself before answering the other line so he could focus on the matter at hand.
“Yeah,” Marcus answered.
“Yeah, where ya at, boa’?” Smitty spoke.
“We coming around the block now, ‘bout to pull up on the side street off the expressway.”
“A’ight, I’m waiting on you. I’m sitting in my black car.”
“Okay.”
Marcus ended the call and directed Lil G to Smitty ‘93 four-door black-on-black Jaguar, as they turned on Congress, the street alongside of the I-290 expressway. Lil G parked two cars behind Smitty.
The moment Marcus proceeded to enter the jag; he instantly smelled the fresh scent of new car leather with a mixture of Joop fragrance. Damn, this nigga stay fresh, Marcus thought to himself after witnessing Smitty dressed in a stonewashed blue jean Guess suit with matching light blue alligator cowboy boots. With his one-carat stud in his left ear and a low cut with a full sharply lined beard, Smitty looked and smelled like a million bucks.
“Wassup, Chief? What’s da bin’nis?” Marcus said, settling in on the passenger side of the Jag.
“You Wassup . . . !” Smitty replied by smiling and extending his hand toward Marcus to perform the IVL nation handshake. “I see ya lookin’ good, which means you doin’ some’nt right,” Smitty said jokingly as they both shared a brief laugh.
“I’m jus’ followin’ suit, tryn’a do the right thing, ya kno’.”
/> “Yeah, I hear dat . . . ,” Smitty said while smoothly rubbing on his neatly cut goatee. “Aey check it out right, I gotta little dilemma that I need took care of.”
“Whatever’ it is, consider it done,” Marcus said with confidence.
“‘Thats why I luv you,” Smitty replied, shaking up with Marcus for the second time. “We blessed you wit’ three-star elite status and you still showing the same loyalty that you had from the start. I can’t say that for everybody. Some brotha’s get blessed wit’ some juice and start going’ against the grain. Ya kno’, they seem to forget who put’em on. So therefore, them the guys that end up getting’ spanked,” Smitty explained, staring Marcus straight in the face with his horror eyes that would intimidate the toughest gangster around.
“I already know,” Marcus uttered out, matching Smitty stare but with much honor and respect in his young eyes.
“But anyway,” Smitty said, snapping out of a trance. “I need a job done. This type of hit takes a little homework, though. Any other time I would jus’ send a hit squad through and tear a nigga whole area up, but he ain’t worth starting a war over so I don’t want it to be so obvious.”
Marcus sat there mind-boggled and wondering why he was singled out to do the nations dirty work. Marcus had enough power and vicious killers on his team to send out his own hits. Marcus never minded getting his hands dirty, and actually he was pretty good at it, but something about this mission didn’t intrigue him.
“Jus’ let me know’ when you need it done, Chief.”
“I’ll get up wit’chú in’a couple days so we can rotate a little bit and scope some things out,” Smitty insisted.
“Dat’s wassup.”
After shaking up with Smitty, Marcus exited the car with mixed feelings. He couldn’t turn away from the mission—that would’ve showed signs of disloyalty. “What the fuck is this shit about anyway?” Marcus asked himself while approaching the Maxima where Lil G awaited.
“…I promise I’m coming’ through there tonight . . . ,” Lil G spoke on the phone. “You jus’ be ready when I get there.”
After meeting with Smitty, Marcus had no intensions on getting up with his new prospect, Nicole; all he could dwell on was the meeting with Smitty.
“Aey, I’mma call you back when I’m on my way, a’ight.” Lil G ended his phone call after noticing Marcus being in deep thought.
Fuck it, ain’t nuttin’ to think about. Time to get in kill mode, Marcus thought to himself.
“What’s goin’ on? Everything a’ight?” Lil G asked with a serious, concerned expression on his face.
Marcus didn’t say a word, but the look he gave Lil G let it be known what time it was. Lil G didn’t say another word about the situation as he drove; he knew what it was, and he stayed ready for whatever.
“Lord, drop me off at the apartment. I need to get me some sleep,” Marcus said while sparking up another rolled-up blunt. “Come pick me up early in the morning so we can get the block in order.”
“You ain’t gon’ get up wit’ that broad from earlier?” Lil G asked as if he was reminding Marcus of a good situation
“Nah, I got some shit on my mind that I need to map out,” Marcus replied, exhaling a cloud of weed smoke. Marcus had his own low-key apartment in Forest Park, a small suburb on the outskirt of the west side of Chicago. Few people knew about his high-rise apartment located off Lake Street and Circle Avenue. Marcus rarely stayed there alone; he always had company with him—rather it was just him and a young lady or him and the crew with a bunch of ladies. This particular night was different.