Chapter II
Marcus sat with Big C and Steve at an old antique soul food restaurant called Fellowship that was located on the corner of Kedzie and Ogden. This wasn’t an ideal fancy and remodeled spot that’s always packed with customers nor did they offer the best soul food around. This was merely a place where the three of them often conducted business in their own private section. Despite a few older faithful customers, this place was usually empty or closed. Big C had family ties with the owners since the days of his father, so he was entitled to do pretty much whatever he wanted around the joint.
As they nibbled on the food in front of them, majority of their talk was reminiscing on old times and of course business, legal and illegal.
“Look at’chu…” Big C began to say while looking at Marcus in likes of a proud uncle. “…I remember when you was a snotty nose kid running ‘round here. Now you sitting in the highest seat for one of the most high-powered mobs in the city…You kno’ I’m proud of you, right?”
Marcus simply nodded his head in agreement with a slight smirk as he gave Big C his undivided attention.
“Hell, you even allowed me to fall back and now you handlin’ all my business; you done come a long way, boa’,” Big C continued.
“Well, you kno’, y’all been puttin’ work for years. Sooner or later it comes a time when the torch has to be passed down,” Marcus stated in a respectable manner.
“Yeah, I’m jus’ glad it was passed down to a righteous man…” Big C said before taking a sip of water. “…Now, I’m sure you know this shit ain’t about to get any easier. You got niggas out here plotting as we speak. You got these crackers waitin’ on the smallest slip up so they can lock yo’ ass away forever. So, therefore, you need to have an exit plan…I mean you always goanna be who you are, but just make it out in one piece and wit’ somethin’.”
Steve sat there in silence during Marcus and Big C’s conversation. Steve and Marcus indulged in these types of talks on a daily basis. Marcus listened to Big C’s advice, but for some reason he felt there was something behind all of this and sure enough he was right.
“Now I didn’t ask you to come up here jus’ so I could talk ya’ ear off wit’ this lecture bullshit,” Big C mentioned.
“It’s all good, good advice is always helpful,” Marcus claimed.
Big C hesitated before stating, “I have a small dilemma.”
“Talk to me.” Marcus replied with a more attentive expression.
“I what’nt gon’ approach you wit’ it and jus’ let Psycho handle it for me, but I don’t need these detectives runnin’ ‘round here wit’a open murder case.”
Once he mentioned Psycho’s name, Marcus knew it was some dirty work that needed to be done. Psycho was a Lord from off 16th street that Big C allowed to be in charge over a portion of the Conservatives in that area.
“It’s this ball playin’ ass nigga from out South been owing me about forty stacks goin’ on two months now. He’s really not a threat, but’chu’ know how I feel about niggas who play games. I go by his house and they lie for ’em, making it like they ain't seen him. I call his phone and he never answers it. He really was jus’ an ole friend I was tryna’ put back in ‘da game and this the thanks I get.” Big C said, shaking his head in disappointment.
With no hesitation Marcus simply asked, “What’chu’ want done to ’em? You want me to grab ’em and get’cho’ money or you want him brought to you?”
“Well, you know the money ain’t really an issue…” Before Big C could finish his statement, the waitress from behind the counter came over.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt, but was you guys expecting anyone?”
“Yeah, yeah let ‘em in,” Marcus assertively replied.
As the waitress politely strolled away, Marcus turned his attention back towards Big C and Steve. “It ain’t nobody but Lil G and Peewee. I told them to meet me up here.”
“Like I was sayin’, money ain’t a problem you know that; I jus’ want a clean disappearance.” Big C stated with a stale expression.
Lil G and Peewee walked up. Peewee held a Finish Line apparel bag with a shoebox inside.
“Whudd up, Lord.” Peewee greeted as he handed Marcus the bag. While speaking all at once, he and Lil G acknowledged Big C and Steve accordingly.
“You want us to wait outside while y’all finish talkin’?” Lil G asked respectfully.
“Nah, I was waitin’ to catch a ride wit’ you,” Marcus said while pulling back from the old wooden table.
“Lil G,” Steve began to state. “…you ain’t knocked anybody off today, have you?” He jokingly chuckled.
“Nawl, not yet, Unk… but’chu’ kno’ the day still kinda’ young!” Lil G laughed while glancing down at his watch as the three of them headed for the back exit.
“Awe yeah, I almost forgot,” Marcus slowed down and turned back toward the table. “This is for you.” He said as he tossed the Finish Line bag to Big C.
Big C took a peek inside the shoebox and gave Marcus a nod of approval along with a smile after seeing nothing but clean fifties and one hundred dollar bills wrapped in rubber bands.
“Don’t spend it all in one place.” Marcus quoted, obviously trying to be funny. Out of nowhere Steve blurted out, “Where my bag at!” His statement made them all laugh, then he continued to say, “…You ain’t been out to the house all week; you know yo’ momma been worried.”
“I’a be out there this weekend. And tell her to quit worrying herself so much.”
“You know how ya’ momma is, man,” Steve said to end their back and forth exchange.
As Marcus and his crew left out the restaurant, Big C had nothing but great things to say about Marcus. He always commended Marcus’s hustling ways and loved how he ran his mob with an iron fist. Big C even put Marcus in control of all operations concerning his branch of VL’s. All he asked of Marcus was a generous monthly check. Big C was still labeled as the King over the Conservatives and also had his own members in place, but they all had to report Marcus for their supplies.
At the young age of 24, Marcus had a lot on his plate and was handling it like a seasoned veteran in the game.
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