Chapter 14
It was May of ‘95, and the school year was a month from being over for Chris. He led his team to the championship game, unlike last year when they were knocked out in the semifinals. Marcus made Chris a promise that he would give him some cash and take him and the family out to eat if he brought home the trophy. Of course Chris set his mind for vengeance and was feeling like he couldn’t be stopped. Since the talk he and Marcus had in the car, it seemed as if he began to focus more on his schoolwork. Chris picked his grades up from below average to average and was eligible to play in the play-offs.
The game fell on a Saturday evening, seven o’clock, prime time! St. Angela was facing a team that they haven’t seen all year, who were undefeated as well, a Catholic school by the name of Our Lady of Sorrows, which brought up some great players in the past years. Sorrows even had Isaiah Thomas Nephew as their star player. It didn’t matter to Chris who he was up against; he refused to be denied.
The game got underway, and the gym was packed to capacity! The tournament was held at Purcell Hall, an open gym located on Washington and Keeler.
Chris started the game out slow with his team having a slight lead at the end of the first quarter.
“Chris, I need you to get more involved with the offense . . . ,” St. Angela’s coach intensely demanded during a quarter break. “I need my power forward to set some picks for Chris to have more options. Number thirty-two is killing us off the baseline. I need my big man to slide over and help without getting into foul trouble. A’ight, we came too far to start playing timid! I need you guys to be more aggressive! On three!”
“One, two, three, defense!” the huddle shouted as they reported back to the court.
The star player for Our Lady of Sorrows was on fire to start out and looked as if he couldn’t be stopped. He had twenty of his team’s forty-two points at the half, while Chris struggled with only nine points, all coming from three-point field goals, with his team down by six points.
Marcus met up with Chris while St. Angela exited the locker room after halftime.
“Damn, Jo! I thought you were ready to play?”
“I am!” Chris responded irritably.
“I can’t tell, you out there playin’ sof’ as hell! You need to go out there and show them guy’s whatchú’ made of. It’s a lot of high school scouts out there checking you and that other dude out. And right now, he’s the one shining. You need to tighten up and go out there and play wit’ some heart!” Marcus scolded his little brother, not trying to spare his feelings at all.
Marcus’s pep talk had to help Chris out because he came out in the third quarter on fire, matching his first half’s point total in one quarter alone. By the end of the third, St. Angela evened the score at sixty apiece. The fourth quarter was all St. Angela. The passion Chris began to play with in the second half rubbed off on his teammates, and they went up by ten points and never looked back! St. Angela ended up winning the championship game by double digits. Chris received the MVP honors with amazing stats for an eighth grader!—thirty-two points, ten assists, and five steals.
Marcus called his own meeting with his crew members and soldiers on Avers Street. Marcus stood in the middle of about twenty of his key enforcers and spoke: “As y’all should know by now, chief got jammed up on conspiracy charges and he prob’le be gone for a minute. I was told to let my team know to lie low until we got word from Smitty to do otherwise ” . . .” Marcus continued to speak, “Now I know everybody still gotta eat so I’mma keep the weed out here and a few other things, but nuttin’ major.” Marcus realized that majority of his personal crew needed his guidance to make anything happen in the streets. Marcus wasn’t worried about himself because he had money put up in several different places, but he had his own personal mob that consisted of about thirty to forty lords that he had to feed. Marcus was the type of hustler that never just thought about himself when it came down to making money, and that’s what made his crew that much more loyal to him.
“Aey, lord, let me holla’ at'chú . . . ,” Lil G said as he and Marcus walked off from the crowd. “What we gon’ do ‘bout our little problem Mikey informed us on.” Marcus knew he had to get Dirty Red out the way for snitching. Dirty was a neighborhood dope fiend, so he felt it wouldn’t be difficult to have him dealt with.
“I definitely ain’t forgotten about him. I got some’nt for his ass . . . ,” Marcus explained. “Meet wit’ me in the morning’.” Lil G didn’t know what Marcus had planned, but he knew it would be effective.
Every morning before Dirty Red began working on a pack, he had to snort a blow to get him going. Marcus mixed up his normal bomb to put out on the block. He had a special package for Dirty Red though. Instead of giving him a blow to wake him up, he would give him a blow to put him to sleep for good. Marcus bagged up all the work and separated a bag of rat poison for Dirty.
Marcus met with Lil G in the morning to give him the work for the morning shift. Marcus explained the game plan to Lil G so they could execute. As planned, Dirty Red was dope sick and needed his normal morning fix.
“Aey, Dirty!” Lil G yelled from his car window as he pulled up on Avers. Dirty wasted no time running up to the car because he knew what time it was.
“Wassup, baby . . . !” Dirty said in a slick but excited tone while attempting to shake up with Lil G. “I was hoping you pulled up soon, I need some’nt bad! You know once I get goin’, I make shit happen around this muthafucka.”
“Yeah, I hear you . . . ,” Lil G responded, not really listening to what Dirty Red had to say. “We jus’ shook up a batch of this new shit we jus’ got’a hold to. I need you to check this shit out befo’ I put it on the block.”
“Aw, hell yeah! I know this shit fenna’ be good. Give it to me so I can get started. I already got ma’fuckas comin’ to me tryn’a shop.”
Dirty took the blow and anxiously jogged his way toward the back of an abandoned building on Avers to get high. Lil G waited before putting the work on the block to see what was going to be the reaction.
After a few hours passed by, the word around the ‘hood was that Dirty Red was found passed out inside of a vacant apartment. Everybody in the area was saying that he overdosed on a bag of heroin that was too potent, but when Lil G and Marcus heard the news, they knew their plan had worked accordingly.
After the incident with Dirty, all the hypes flooded the block to buy what they thought was good dope that killed Dirty. They figured the dope was so good that Dirty Red couldn’t handle it. This made the block even hotter, and Marcus had to shut Avers down for good. Marcus started his quest to search for another area to hustle in. He had the green light to work anywhere in the Holy City, but he was instructed by the two bosses not to make a move nowhere on that side of town.
A few weeks went by, and Marcus was contemplating on his next move. Shawn had been trying to get in touch with Marcus, but he never made time to get with him.
“Let me call and see wassup wit’ this nigga,” Marcus thought out loud while joyriding around the city, checking his phone for missed calls.
“Wassup man . . . !” Shawn answered his cell, already knowing who was on the other end. “Gaddamn, you the hardest nigga in the world to get in touch wit’.”
“Man, it ain’t like dat. Its jus’ been a lot of shit goin’ on. Wassup wit’chu?” Marcus asked.
“Shiiiit, tryn’a bump heads wit’chú . . . ,” Shawn explained. “When you get time, I wanna run some’nt by you.”
“I got time now, wassup?” Marcus assured
“You name the place and I’ll be there.”
“I’m jus’ bendin’ a few blocks right now, tryn’a find me something’ to eat . . . ,” Marcus said. “If you want to, you can meet me up at Edna’s. I all of sudden gotta taste for some beef short ribs.”
“How long it’s gon’ take you to get there?” Shawn asked.
“I’ll be there in’a ‘bout thirty minutes. I jus’ ne
ed to make a quick stop before I get there.”
“A’ight, I’ll holla at'chú in’a minute,” Shawn replied as they both ended their conversation.
As Marcus continued to ride around, he couldn’t help but to think about what plan Shawn had come up with. He didn’t mind working around the Division area, but by him doing that, it could possibly start a war between him and the Four Corner Hustlas. Marcus was loved by many people over that way, but there were still a selected few that didn’t care too much for him. Going to war was the least of Marcus’s worries. He just wondered what decision Shawn would make in a critical situation.
Not too long after Marcus pulled up in Edna’s parking lot, Shawn arrived in his 740i BMW.
“Wassup, boa’ . . . !” Shawn said as they both exited their cars to greet each other. “I was looking for you to be in that Benz; I almost didn’t recognize you in this Maxima.”
“Man, I had to get rid of that ma’fucka. By me being the only young nigga in the city wit’a 500 Benz, it drew too much of the wrong attention. I’mma talk to you more about it,” Marcus said as they walked toward the entrance of Edna’s.
After placing their orders, they continued on with their conversation. Marcus went on to tell Shawn about Smitty getting locked up and how hot the detectives had been around the Holy City area. Shawn hated to hear the bad news, but he knew by Marcus being in this predicament that he would be more open to his plan.
“Aey, remember what I told you I wanna do around Division?” Shawn asked.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Well, I been talking to my uncle and he wit’ it. He even hooked me up wit’ his guys who own that twelve-unit co-way building on the corner of Menard and Division,” Shawn explained.
“You talking ‘bout the building with the cabstand on the main floor?”
“Hell yeah . . . !” Shawn said with excitement. “You know ever since we was younger, running in there playing wit’ them arcade games ‘n’ shit, we ain’t see nuttin’ but hypes runnin’ in and out that ma’fucka.”
“Yeah . . . You right about that.”
“Ain’t shit changed, matter of fact, its gotten worse. Every apartment in that muthafucka is rented out by addicts or bitches that are on welfare.”
At that point, Shawn had Marcus’s undivided attention. The waitress even brought their orders to the table without them noticing. Marcus knew Shawn’s conversation was heading in the right direction, and he couldn’t deny getting a piece of the action.
“The building got four vacant apartments that he’s gon’ let me occupy. I say we work the shit out this building and get rich!” Shawn said excitedly as he watched Marcus nod his head in agreement. Marcus showed no anxious reaction to the plan because he knew that it was easier said than done.
“You hollered at the twins?” Marcus asked while taking a bite full of beef short ribs.
“Yeah, I ran into Dre the other day and let him know what I’m about to do . . . ,” Shawn continued to explain. “Really, it ain’t too much they can say. We’re all Foes, I’mma be just a block from where they’re working at anyway.”
“You let him know that you was fuckin’ wit’ me?”
“Nawl, I didn’t tell him all that, but it shouldn’t be a problem. It ain’t like you some new dude that don’t nobody know. We all grew up together before going our separate ways.”
“Yeah, but'chu know them guys never liked me, even though they never would say it,” Marcus claimed as he continued to eat away.
“Them niggaz never had the heart to come at'chú like that. Now that they know you got some juice for them IVLs, they really ain’t gon’ want no trouble. Even if they do, they can get dealt wit’ jus’ like anybody else!” Shawn said with emphasis.
Marcus listened to everything that was being said, but there were still questions that he needed answered.
“I mean, I’m wit’ it, but you know I still gotta handle shit that’s goin’ on back my way. I’m still waiting to see how this shit wit’ Smitty unfold.”
“While you on hold, we could be puttin’ shit into play back that way. I got the connect on the dope and the cocaine. All we need to decide is whether we wanna get fronted wit’ the work or buy our own shit.”
“So I take it I’m going to be introduced to your connect?”
“Yeah . . . !” Shawn answered as if Marcus should have known the answer to his question. “Unless you wanna get the work through your people.”
“Man, shit is dry on my end; At least ‘til Big C come back in town . . . ,” Marcus went on to explain. “We could fuck wit’cho’ people as long as they keep good dope and low prices.”
“Those two things we never had’a problem wit’––”
“Another thing,” Marcus cut him off before stating, “I gotta bring some of the lords from out the Holy City to work, at least until shit get straight in the ‘hood. My guys some real hustlaz and they damn sho’ ain’t scared to bust there guns when it’s time.”
“I was hoping you said that, we need some young go-getters’ that’s about they bin’nis. We ain’t got no time for games.”
“You already know . . . ,” Marcus replied. “Jus’ give me some time then we can open up.”
“That’s wassup,” Shawn agreed as they gave each other five. They continued to eat while talking about other issues other than their game plan. What was understood didn’t need to be talked about any longer until the time came for them to get down to business.