Triple Crown Presents-Road Dawgz Page 2

  “Nah,” Jus said, his face becoming very serious. “I guess you ain’t heard about that nigga while you was in da joint.” “I heard a few things—mostly rumors and speculation, though. Why don’t you run it down to me, Jus?” “Well,” Jus began, “you know Demon has always been an oddball. Even when we were all in the boys home nobody really fucked wit’ him like that...well, nobody except you. And when he touched down in the hood, he wasn’t really feeling none of our respective hustles. We were like fuck it, ya know? Can’t knock a man for doing his own thing, so we let him be.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” K-Dawg asked. “Man,” Jus continued, “Demon done went and became a cleaner.”

  “My nigga scrubbing floors?” K-Dawg asked naively. “Damn, K-Dawg. You really have been out of the loop for a while. If anything, niggaz is cleaning up behind Demon’s mess. The boy is a hit man, and a damn good one, the way I hear it.”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” K-Dawg said, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. “No shit, kid. The boy is out here laying shit down. People tell they kids about this nigga to get them to come in the house at decent hours. The word is that the night belongs to ‘The Demon.’ They say if you happen to get a good look at him, nine times outta ten you’ll be dead before you get to tell anyone.”

  “Damn,” K-Dawg said, “how my man get on it like that? Demon was always a passive dude.” “Well,” Jus said, stopping to sit on a bench, “I guess I gotta start at the beginning to bring some clarity to the here and now. You got a minute, kid?” Jus asked, motioning for K-Dawg to take the seat beside him. K-Dawg sat down and listened intently to the tale that unfolded before him.

  “Damien,” Jus began, “well, ‘Demon,’ as we all know him, moved up here from a village on the tip of Brazil when he was about six or so. His Mom came up with him after his old man got killed in some kinda accident or some shit, but I don’t know for sure. They stayed wit’ the grandmother out in Brooklyn...you know how that goes.

  “Well anyhow, not long after, the mother hooked up with a new boyfriend. Average Puerto Rican stud, ya know? Guy’s got a decent little gig, his own spot and no wife to complete him or bring light to his life. All a crock of shit if you ask me, but the grandmother, being from the old country and all that, was totally wit’ it.

  “So after a few months of courting they got hitched. Demon’s mother packed them up and shacked with this dude at his spot in Manhattan, down by that crack ‘tel. At first the marriage was silky. The kid was in school and the moms got a little gig busting tables at this dive uptown. All this lasted maybe six months. That’s when everything turned to shit.

  “Come to find out, the boyfriend was an undercover hype. Homeboy had a habit you wouldn’t believe. The mother, not really knowing any better, started chipping along with him. The next thing you know, they both had the monkey clawing at ‘em, and the kid was getting the brunt of it.

  “For a good little while, they primarily lived dope-fiend lives. They would get as high as the Almighty would let ‘em and kick the shit out of each other. When they couldn’t get high, they kicked the shit outta Demon.”

  “That’s deep,” K-Dawg said thinking out loud. “It gets deeper,” Jus continued. “The habit got to the point where neither parent could hold a job. The little bit of check Demon’s mom was getting went into stepdaddy’s arm. Man, he once told me about how his moms used to get sick and be like puking and shit. That’s some shit to see when you a lil’ nigga like that.

  “Well, being that stepdaddy couldn’t seem to hold down a gig, he took to doing stick- ups, using mama love as an accomplice. Well to make a long story short, one day they tried to rob the wrong mafucka’s store, and Demon found himself without a mother.”

  “I know all that shit,” K-Dawg cut in “That’s around the time he came to the boy’s home. But what flipped him out?” “Nigga,” Jus said sucking his teeth, “if you quit cutting my wisdom, then I could tell you. Now like I was saying, after the moms was killed, the stepdaddy went on the lam. The grandmother was sick at the time so she couldn’t take the kid, and things were too rough to send him home. Our boy found himself in the penthouse with the rest of us.

  “Now, if you remember correctly, Demon was only in there with us for a lil’ while. After about a year, his grandma does a 360-degree turn and is in shape enough to take care of the boy. Things get back to normal, and our boy Demon is happy again. But you know how it is for folks like us, kid: if you ain’t of the fairer persuasion, something always gotta go wrong.

  “Now, the rest of this is only what people say. Demon and me still cool, but it ain’t like I ever asked him about it. This is just what I heard. One night when his grandmother was coming home from work, some junkie mafucka decided to stick her right in front of her door, son. This punk robbed her on her doorstep. Well, Demon jumped out of his sleep when he heard the sounds of the struggle outside the front door. When Demon snatched the door open, he saw his grandma on the floor bleeding. When he stepped out into the hallway, he saw a figure heading for the stairway. Something about the way the cat moved rung a bell in Demon’s head. The curve of the shoulder, the way he sprinted…Demon was sure he knew who it was.

  “In a blind rage, Demon leaped over his grandma’s prone figure and went after the attacker. He grabbed the man’s jacket and brought him to an abrupt halt. They struggled there in the hall for a while, but the attacker was too slippery. He managed to wiggle free of his jacket and break for the stairs. Demon shot his hand out and ripped the mask from the attacker’s face. The person who stared back at him sent both men into shock—it was stepdaddy.

  “Before Demon could react, stepdaddy jumped the first flight of stairs and crashed on the next landing. Demon pursued him, but he slipped on a broken bottle. The broken glass sliced Demon’s bare foot open and cut the chase short. Through halfopen eyelids, he saw his stepfather slink off down the next flight of steps and disappear into the night.

  “When the police got there, Demon was leaning over his grandmother, mumbling something in a language the translators couldn’t even make out. When they asked him if he knew who killed his grandma, he lied and said he didn’t know. The police just chalked it up as another robbery gone sour. It was to be yet another unsolved murder, but Demon wasn’t having that.

  “For the next few weeks, Demon wandered in and out of shooting galleries looking for stepdaddy. About a month after grandma’s death, Demon broke luck. He found stepdaddy down in Douglass nodding up in some crackhouse. Demon tied up everyone in the house and went to work on his stepdaddy.

  “First, he cut out his tongue—said that was for the lies he told. Then he did some ol’ bugged shit. He took the knife and cut out stepdaddy’s heart—said that was because stepdaddy took his heart when he killed grandma—fair exchange. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he set the house on fire with everybody still in it— ten dead in all.”

  “Damn,” K-Dawg exhaled, realizing for the first time that he was holding his breath, “that boy has got some issues.” “Damn right he does,” Jus co-signed. “Listen, K-Dawg. The reason I know a lot of the shit I do about Demon is that I knew him and his peeps before he came to the home. We used to live in the same projects. You can go out to Marcy till this day and niggaz is still talkin’ ‘bout how he flipped. Police still looking for him to ask about step- daddy’s murder. Thing is, Demon dropped off the map after the shit went down. Sure, the people on the streets see him from time to time, when he wants it like that. But Johnny Law ain’t never gonna nab that nigga. I think they want to keep it that way. The boy is bad news.”

  “I got to see what’s up wit’ my nigga, ‘D.,’” K-Dawg said with a devilish grin. “How can I contact him?” “K-Dawg, don’t you never learn? I just gave you the lowdown on our friend so you’ll stay the fuck away from him. I ain’t no dummy…you probably already knew what was up wit’ Demon before I told you—probably just wanted to pick my brain to distinguish fact from fiction.”

  “It ain’t like
that, Jus. I just wanna see what’s up wit’ the old homeboys.”

  “Bullshit, K-Dawg. I know you. You wanna bring Demon in.” “Jus, why I can’t just wanna show love to my old crew?” “Man, go head wit’ that. You mean, our old crew, and Demon ass wasn’t never a part of it.” “Jus, you mean to tell me you ain’t fucking wit’ a nigga ‘cause he went through some shit? We all went through some shit.”

  “Man, you missing the point. I ain’t fucking wit’ a nigga ‘cause he want it that way. That’s just common knowledge. Demon don’t fuck wit’ nobody unless they fuck wit’ him. And if a nigga should happen to be stupid enough to fuck wit’ him, then he’s about a dumb fuck that shouldn’t have dropped out of his mama’s ass in the first place.

  “Keshawn, listen to ya dawg. Demon is a loose cannon. You can’t manipulate him like you do everybody else. If you get that nigga started, you ain’t gonna be able to control him. And if he happens to think you trying to mind fuck him, something you’re very good at, I might add, he’s gonna carve you into little pieces. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

  “Well, let me be the judge of that, Jus.” “Why you gotta be so damn hardheaded?” Jus said slapping himself in the forehead. “K-Dawg, we can go on with our plan without involving that nut.”

  “You know where he stay?” K-Dawg asked looking Jus dead in the eye. “Yeah, I got an idea.” “Let me get his address.”

  “Look, K-Dawg. You so hyped on the idea of getting a hold of Demon—cool. But you ain’t gonna get me crossed wit’ that dude. I’ll tell you what: I’ll holla at the kid and tell him you wanna sit down with him. Now, me knowing him the way I do, he ain’t gonna be feeling that, but I’ll ask anyhow, cause you my peoples.”

  “Good looking out, Jus.”

  “Good looking out, my ass, K-Dawg. This shit blow up in ya face, you can’t say I didn’t tell you.”

  “Ah, nigga, quit crying,” K-Dawg said playfully. “So what else is going on ‘round here?”

  “Same shit,” Jus said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Oh, I had seen China ‘bout an hour before I bumped into you.” “China?” K-Dawg said perking up. “What’s up wit’ my sis?” “Man, she still fine as hell. Truth be told, she need to stop chasing cat and get some dick in her life. Man, if your sister would just...” The cold stare K-Dawg sent his way stopped Jus mid sentence. “My bad, kid. You know a nigga ain’t mean it like it sounded. Your sister out here doing her. She’s become quite notorious for her ass-kicking abilities. That girl is bad.”

  “Yeah, China was always on that kung fu shit. I don’t really agree wit’ her life choices, but that’s still my heart.” “I feel you, kid. That girl is just so damn fine, you gotta understand why a nigga can get salty behind her choices, as you put it.”

  “True. So what’s up wit’ my other siblings—C.J., Pearl…?” KDawg asked changing the subject. “Well,” Jus said a little hesitantly, “I hate to kick dirt on another man’s peoples. You want it straight or the sugar-coated version?”

  “Jus, you know me better than that. Give it to me real.” “Well, ya brother, C.J., he on some new shit. He runnin’ ‘round wit’ them white boys he go to school wit’ and acting like his shit don’t stink. He used to do the same shit we runnin’ ‘round trying to do, but he look down his nose at us for trying to eat.”

  “Charlie always was a frontin’ mafucka.” “The worst part is, he done let them white boys help his ass right into a habit.”

  “No shit?” K-Dawg asked nonchalantly. “Yep,” Jus continued, “he think the shit is on the low, but you know I hear and see all in the streets.”

  “Fo’ sho.” “I’m telling you, K-Dawg, he just chippin’, now, but at the rate he going, he’ll have a full-blown habit soon—if he ain’t got one now.”

  “Fuck that nigga. What up wit’ Pearl?” “Pearl? Shit, she damn near as fine as China, but Pearl on some bullshit too. She done dropped out of school, and now she hangin’ around wit’ them lil’ chili pimp-ass niggaz Downtown. I can’t say for sure, but I heard this nigga named Trick, turned her out.”

  “Is that right?” K-Dawg tried to hide his anger, but it showed all over his face. “One time,” Jus continued, “I seen her up in the spot. You know, the strip joint over the bridge? Well, anyhow I steps to her like, ‘Yo, Pearl, fuck you doing in here?’ Ol’ girl flips out on me and causes a scene. I tried to take her up out the spot, then this lil’ nigga, Trick start talking all crazy. To make a long story short, I fucked him up, the bouncers fucked me up, and now I’m banned from the spot. The crazy shit is, she was back wit’ the nigga the next day.”

  “So what you do then?” K-Dawg asked. “What the fuck you think?” Jus snapped. “I kicked his ass again.” The two friends enjoyed a brief laugh. “But on some real shit, though,” Jus said soberly, “the boy is a known pimp. Sleepy even had words wit’ him over Pearl, but she flipped on him, too. She tried to say that he was just tight because she didn’t choose him.”

  “That’s some cold shit.”

  “Ain’t it, though? There’s a lot wrong out here, K-Dawg. You can’t play superman and save everybody. You just gotta do what you can, when you can.”

  “I feel you, Jus. Tell me something, though: you’ve given me the lowdown on everybody else but yourself. What the fuck is your hustle?”

  “Me?” Jus said flashing his gold fronts. “I deal in retail—supply and demand.”

  “And that means what exactly?” “Well, you know I’ve always been light-fingered by nature, right? I just stepped my game up. Now, instead of boosting from bullshit stores, I take on bigger stings. I do a lil’ of everything…jewelry, guns, whatever is in demand.”

  “You stepped it up, alright, Jus. But I thought you was caking off the boosting thing.” “I was, and I am. See, now I got bitches to handle that shit for me. I get a few hoes to go take off a department store and I hit ‘em off. I mostly use young girls, ‘cause they don’t really know shit about shit. Let’s say they bring me racks of shit outta somewhere like Macy’s, right? I give ‘em maybe a few pieces of bullshit jewelry, a few dollars, and they straight. As long as they can go to school and floss for their friends, they good. Besides, if they get busted, all they get is a slap on the wrist. I pay whatever fine or restitution, and they happy. Everybody wins.”

  “So you’re telling me you out the stick-up game?” “K-Dawg, I don’t think you’re following what I’m saying to you. A nigga gotta eat. I still bang me a mafucka or so when it’s worth it. Now I’m more selective wit’ who I get. It’s big money now. See, what I do is take it to them. Instead of waiting for cats to fall through the hood before I rob ‘em, I go where it’s at— stash houses, clubs, sporting events, whatever. As long as there’s paper involved, a nigga can get it.

  “Like that kid. You know the young boy who play for the Nets? He came across the water to get his party on. All he ended up getting was jacked. I got that big head nigga fo’ everything— jewelry, money, credit cards, shoes…”

  “Hold up,” K-Dawg cut in. “You took the nigga shoes?” “Damn straight,” Jus said sticking his chest out. “There’s profit in shoes. If they my size, I might keep ‘em. If I wanna get rid of ‘em, I got these two crackheads that got a hook-up wit’ a shoe store. What they do in the store, if the shoes ain’t twisted, is fix them mafuckas up like new and resell ‘em. They don’t pay a whole lot for ‘em, but fuck it. Everything is profit.”

  “That’s some slick shit,” K-Dawg said with a grin. “You always did know how to turn a buck. So what’s up wit’ that pistol action, Jus, can you front a nigga something?”

  “Right back in it, huh?” Jus asked with a smile. “You know how it is, Jus. A nigga just came home and is trying to get some get-right.” “Fo’ sho, K-Dawg. I can feel where you’re coming from, but dig this: you been my ace since back when we were both just two messed up kids that nobody wanted. Don’t even play me like that, B. I could never front you nothing, but check this out,” Jus said pulling out a low-caliber pistol.
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  K-Dawg’s eyes lit up like Rockefeller Center at the sight of the gun. The chrome shined like a diamond in his eyes. The fact that he might be about to get a pistol, and the numerous things he could get accomplished, almost made him foam at the mouth.

  “That’s a nice .380,” K-Dawg said trying to sound cool. “Check it out, kid,” Jus said handing him the gun.

  The steel touching K-Dawg’s fingertips sent a chill through his body. It had been a long time since he had held a hammer— especially a cold one.

  “That’s for you,” Jus said gesturing toward the gun, “if you want it.”

  “Hell yeah,” K-Dawg said putting the gun in his jacket pocket. “Good looking out, god.” “You know you my peeps, K-Dawg. Besides, how can I have the future corner emperor struttin’ ‘round wit’ no jammy?” Jus said sarcastically. “Niggaz would think our team was soft. We can’t have that.”

  “I hear that,” K-Dawg said slyly. “Niggaz keep right on sleeping on this one. It’s all or nothing wit’ me,” K-Dawg said patting his pocket.

  “True, indeed,” Jus said under his breath. “You know I got faith in you, kid. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t fuck wit’ you. You know how I do.”

  “You my nigga, Jus. And that’s why I’m gonna make sure you eat right alongside of me. You different than a lot of these niggaz out here, Jus. You got good sense and a level head. Then on top of that, you grind for your meat. You don’t see all them qualities in no one nigga, man. I’m always gonna fuck wit’ you, money, ‘cause I know you’ll voice your opinion when something’s wrong. You ain’t one of them ol’ kiss-ass niggaz that’ll just stroke my ego and tell me what the fuck they think I wanna hear. You’re my voice of reason.”

  “K-Dawg, boy, you know I’m all for it. We got plenty of time to set things in motion. Right now, lets focus on you. You’ve been down for a while, so I know you probably forgot how to have a good time. I’m gonna take you down to this lil’ freak spot and let you drop that five-year load, nigga. What’s up?”