A pimps life, p.21
A Pimp's Life,
p.21
“And all them bitches is HIV-positive. The hood is infected.”
“The hood been infected. I tell you what, though . . . a lot of niggaz is gonna be wondering where they got the shit. Where you think they gonna look first? Who you think they gonna be looking at? They can’t look at Coke. He gone. They gonna be looking at Mack. I don’t know how you gonna fix this. Every last one of them?”
“Every nappy-headed Negro in the bunch. Fucking Coke, he got jerked. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with them?”
“Take ’em back from whence they came. Coke keep everything on file. We gather them up and take ’em back tonight.”
Later that night we did just that. No phone call or email. We just hopped in three separate Vs and a van that one of my menz used when he was out painting. We stuck the bitches in back of it then rolled on out into the Hamptons.
Me and Ton walked to the door. I knocked.
A voice from behind the door said, “What’s your business here?”
“I’m here to return some shit that belong to you.”
“Like what?”
“Some lil’ slaves.”
A series of locks clicked, and the door opened. A man in a white suit stood inside of the screen door. “Gentlemen,” he said, clicking on the porch light, “you have something to return? I don’t think we’ve ever done business together.”
“Technically we have. You sold something to Cocaine that I inherited. The shit is contaminated. You knew that when you sold them.”
“I don’t need any problems. You can leave them, but there’ll be no refund.”
“Fuck it. Just take ’em.”
Ton opened the back doors to the van, and they all jumped out then huddled around each other. They shivered in the overly cool night’s unpredictable weather.
“Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“What are you going to do with them now?”
“In Europe there’s an underground slavery ring that only will buy young black girls. They use them to clean the house. Mind their rug rats. Maintain the garden. It’s a growing trend. I can’t wait for it to catch on.” He laughed and walked away, and the girls happily followed behind him into the nearby horse stable.
CHAPTER SIXTY
ANTON
I flew out to Chi-Town a day earlier than Mack to set things up. We rented a hall downtown, and I was making sure all the food we ordered was being prepared. Checked on the liquor stockade, the sound system, the lights, the fire exits.
“Yeah, everything looking copasetic,” I said to Mack over the phone. “This is going to be big, dude. Yeah, I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport tomorrow. Holla,” I said, hanging up.
I locked up then closed the doors to the hall. A silver Continental with tinted windows waited for me in the parking lot. I stepped inside and poured a shot of vodka.
“Where to, sir?” the driver asked.
“The Lakefront Hotel. I’m not in a rush, so take the scenic route.”
“Yes, sir.”
From I-90/94, we exited Ohio Street and proceeded two blocks. We turned left on Illinois and went ten more blocks until we crossed Columbus Drive. And the hotel sat lovely as it wanted to, smack dab at the intersection between Illinois and Columbus. It was busy out there. Rolling suitcases was pulled up and down the parking lot. Valet drivers respectfully rejected tips, only to get double that amount for being humble.
“Milton, my dude, good looking.” I handed him a twenty. I walked inside the spacious lobby and looked up at the tall trees growing up from under the hotel’s surface. Birds flew back and forth above the branches, their shadows casting down each time they flew past the open sky light. I walked forward toward the long gray marble registration desk that sat about twenty feet across and five feet high.
“Hi.” The Marsha-Brady-looking bimbo smiled with her fucking disgusting-ass retainer.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be picking up a key. Anton.”
She ran her finger down two pages worth of entries before finally stopping. “What room is that, sir?”
“Uh, seventy-five B, I think. Yeah, matter of fact, that is it.”
“Cash or credit?”
“Oh, just look in your computer. It’s already covered”
“I see. Okay then. All I need is some identification, and you’re on your way.”
After the song-and-dance routine, I followed the blue trail of carpet leading to the glass elevator. It softly hummed as its double doors smoothly slid open. I quickly closed them, so I could enjoy the ride by myself, especially since I wanted to puff my clip. I inhaled the shit, and my eyes widened.
The elevator rose over the city and showcased the evening skyline’s magnificent array of fuchsia, orange, purple, and black. A blimp lazily hovered across the black backdrop promoting Kellz upcoming concert in red dotted lights. Clouds competed to be on the same level as me, but the elevation of my glass shuttle left them coughing up dust. This was as close as you could get to God. This must be what it feel like to be rising in the wide open after you die.
The seventy-fifth floor had finally come up. I stepped off the vehicle and made a right down to the end of the hallway. I looked down at the digital key then up at the door. “This is it.” I smiled and slid my key inside the groove of the stainless steel lock.
Beep! The door automatically opened, and I walked in. A humongous king-size bed sat near the balcony window. A large plate window with full-length curtains was in the living room. Reddish-brown carpet with designs on it covered the floor. Large mirrors in the bathroom were clean as looking through a window. The kitchen was equipped with an oven, microwave, and dishwasher. This was it. Five-star suite. El Presidente.
I fell back on the bed and bounced off the soft mattress. “Oh, this is what’s up,” I said, sinking into it.
A knock in the bathroom made me spring up. I crept over to the door with my gun in my right hand. I slowly pushed the door open and quickly felt around for a light switch. It flicked on by itself, and there stood Sade soaking wet from the shower.
“Girl, you almost got yourself shot,” I said, putting it back on safety.
“You’re late.” She walked up to me. “You was supposed to be here hours ago.”
“Yeah, I had some lil’ shit to take care of. It’s all good now.”
“Now you promise he not going to get hurt, right?” she asked, her arms sprawled around the back of my neck as I said carried her over to the bed.
“Just his image and pride.”
After all the time me and Sade had been spending together, this shit was bound to happen. We hooked up, and nobody ever knew. But they would soon.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
MACK
“Ladies and gentlemen, this here’s another one for the steppas. Deejay Wayne Williams, put the record on. Tell me, what do we do when the deejay’s playing our favorite tune?”
It was my night, and I was the sole purpose of this whole gathering. All my wolves was here. Every pimp who had a name came out to pay homage and just have a good time. It was a white-linen affair, and everybody was looking clean. Happy feet slid across the floor and spun around. High heels and shoes screeched the floor and tapped to the rhythm of the music.
Everybody lined up side to side. Men faced the women giving up three feet of personal space. Drinks was tossed up in the air and toasted as those rhythmically imposed steppas dipped down and spun back up, pointing at any bitch that smiled.
I was feeling the love and got all overwhelmed and shit. I was taken aback. I walked into the bathroom and checked under the row of blue stalls. The urinals was also blue and drained fresh water every five seconds. I bent down over the sink and rinsed my face and looked up into the mirror at my reflection. “They love you, boy,” I said to myself. “They really love you.” I pointed to myself.
Ton walked in. “Hey, you a’ight, man?”
“Yeah,” I said wiping my face, “I’m good.”
“Your peoples is outside ready to celebrate, nigga. You suppose to be out there.”
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
“Hey, duke, talk to me. Everything all right,” he said, holding me by the shoulders.
“I’m just tripping. All these muthafuckas here for me.”
“That’s right, you, dude. We here for you.” He hugged me. “Yo, I love you, man. You number one in my heart.”
“That’s what’s up,” I said, hugging him back.
“Now let’s get on out here, YA BIG PIMP!” He laughed and pushed me out the door.
Just then the music stopped, and the spotlight shined on me. I walked through the “soul train” line the crowd had formed. They patted my back and poured champagne on me as I walked by.
Standing on stage was Anton holding a microphone. A movie screen from behind him lowered from the ceiling. “Get on up here, nigga,” he said, egging the crowd on to cheer.
I sat on the king throne and was given a pimp cup and some shades.
“Yeah, that’s that nigga,” Ton said. “Before I get started, let me see if the nigga of the night got some words to say.” He laughed and passed me the mike. “Get your ass on up.”
“Yo, I just wanna say that it’s a real honor to be chilling amongst fellow pimps.” I chuckled, but nobody else did. “Ahem, is this thing on?”
“Nigga, sit your ass down.” Ton shoved me in the chair.
They all laughed and rooted.
“Now we about to celebrate my man’s life. Most muthafuckas start off by telling a nigga’s childhood, how he came to be and shit. Well, we ain’t gonna start off like that. Can I get an amen?”
“Amen,” I said along with the crowd.
“We ain’t gonna talk about what school he went to ‘cuz we really don’t give a fuck where he went to school. Do we? Hell no! Can I get an amen?”
“Amen,” we all said.
“See, tonight we gonna just show this man’s life for what it really is. The man of many hats fits any head. This nigga know a lot about that. Miko,” he holla’d to his man, “run that movie. Congratulations, nigga,” Ton said and walked off the stage.
My initiation DVD. I pissed my pants as everyone began looking at each other. The movie showed me and Cocaine going at it. It was his price for my protection. I was scared to death when I went up north. Niggaz was fucking with me, and I didn’t know what else to do. That’s why I was his number one. Even over Cakes.
The crowd rushing toward me looked like the dirty, black waves of a tsunami.
“Hold up, hold up,” Ton said running out on to the stage with his gun aimed. His menz ran out on the stage after him and also held the crowd down. “Now settle down, y’all. Everybody gonna get they turn. You scared, bitch,” he said, mushing me. “We ain’t done yet, y’all. Roll that next movie.”
It was me and Storm fucking on the dance floor a while back. This had to at least prove that I liked women. That is until this video of Storm undressing in the back room, with a dick swinging and everything. I didn’t even feel all that. You ever wish you was somewhere other than where you was at?
“Don’t make me shoot one of you muthafuckas,” Ton said as the men became more agitated. “Yeah, looks like your night’s about to be over. I got one more surprise for you. Come on out, baby.”
Sade coolly walked across the stage and into Ton’s embrace. Then he walked her over to me and kissed her. “Show ’em the ring,” he said.
She extended her hand and flashed her diamond. “You lose this time, Eric,” Sade said, walking away.
Ton winked at me. “How ya feel now, pimp?”
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A Pimp’s Life copyright © 2009 Urban Books, LLC
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Treasure Hernandez, A Pimp's Life
