My Brother's Keeper, page 12
“Who wants you to take over the park?” Razor asked.
“Hector.”
“You seen him?”
“See, if you would have been over here listening, I wouldn’t have to repeat myself. Yeah, I seen him. I caught him and José coming off the elevator last night.”
“You kill ‘em?”
Jahad sighed loudly through his nose, “Razor can I talk man, or do you have something else you wanna say?”
Razor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, “Nah Sun, go ‘head.”
“They, well Hector, want us to rock the park. José wants us dead. Hector is running shit tho’. He said he’d pull Manual, Man-Man, out so we can have it to ourselves. All we have to do is cop our coke from him.”
“What you tell him?” Tony asked surprised.
“That we’d rock with him. To keep it real, the only reason I did it was because what we trying to do. I don’t like that dude.”
“You made a smart move, but why you?” Tony asked more to himself. “I mean Man-Man was holding the park all the way down and they see more money fuckin’ with him. It’s gotta be a catch.”
“It is. Hector wants to become a partner with our music label.”
“What!” Derrick stood outraged, “How in the hell he know about that?”
“That’s a good question. He knows everything tho’. I mean everything.” Jahad looked at each of his friends.
Erick shook his head angrily, “Ayo, I know you ain’t gon’ let this dude move in on us like that.”
“Hell nah. I told him I’d think about it. I got a feeling he knows I’m frontin’ tho’.”
“We might have problems then. Them dudes are use to getting what they want,” Tony said.
“So,” Jahad shrugged his shoulders, “that’s their problem, not ours. In a couple more months we cutting all ties with ‘em, whether they like it or not.”
Tony looked at Jahad with worry in his eyes, “I’m telling you Jah, the Coco Twins be on some other shit. They gon’ be expecting something for letting us rock the park.”
“Fuck ‘em. They’ll get no more than we’re willing to give. And they definitely ain’t touching no parts of our music. If they wanna go to war, then we’ll go all the way. By then we’ll have enough dough to put a nice price on their head.” So like I said, fuck ‘em.”
“So it’s cool if we go back to the park?” Derrick asked.
“Yeah. That’s our spot now. For the time being anyway.”
“I’m a bungee now then. Ya’ll niggas c’mon.” Derrick looked at Joey, Kwan, and Razor.
“A’ight. I want ya’ll to keep your hammers on you just in case tho’.”
Ten minutes later, Atomic returned with two bags of Jamaican food. After they ate and smoked two blunts, Jahad, Tony, and Eric went inside the booth while Atomic went behind the control board.
“Ayo Atomic, this how we gon’ rock it,” Eric said putting on his headphones, “I’m a lay my song down first, Jah is coming in after me, then Tone. Don’t stop the music tho’. When I give you the cue, start mixing in Jah’s beat.” He turned to Jahad and Tony, “Ya’ll niggas gotta be ready to catch the beat, so stay on point.”
Jahad and Tony nodded as music came through their headsets.
“Turn my music down some Atomic,” Eric said getting hype. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it. Ya’ll niggas come in here with me on the hook. One, two, three…”
I’m familiar with the art of war / Automatic 44’s / While you niggas steady bumpin’ your jaws / I’ll put you on pause, rewind you / show your mistakes / show your ass how you ended up food on my plate / I’m familiar with the Art of War / Automatic 44’s / While you niggas steady bumpin’ your jaws / I’ll put you on pause, rewind you / show your mistakes / show your ass how you ended up food on my plate /
I don’t play the gangsta’ role, yo, I leave that to the phonies/I be myself, fly to death, with a tender Roni/
But keep the gat, keep my strap, never leave me lonely/
Desert Eagle 44, I stay with the homey/Close by my side, just in case you run up on me/Thinking shit is sweet, but nah Homey, you don’t know me/I’m familiar with the Art of War, keep it on the low tho’/Four o’clock in the morning kickin’ in your front door/Masked up, gloves on, gat in my palm/I’m spittin’ real shit, got you thinkin’ it’s a song/
But test my right arm and you can see for yourself/I did a bid for clappin’ dudes, that’s bad for your health/Have you wheezin’ when you breathe/Bleeding on your knees/Crawling for your life while your trying to cop a plea/But there’s no escaping me so save your weak apology/
‘Cause I’m familiar with the Art of War / Automatic 44’s / while you niggas steady bumpin’ your jaws / I’ll put you on pause, rewind you / show your mistakes / show your ass how...”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! TAT! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Bullets shattered the front window, tearing through the studio wall like a fist driven through paper. For the first few seconds, no one had any idea what was going on. Then, as if in a movie, Atomic’s head exploded and a fine mist shot through the air, splattering the wall like airbrush paint.
“Oh shit! Get down! Get Down!” Jahad screamed, tackling Tony and Eric to the floor as bullets shattered the thick soundproof glass and tore into the control board, sending sparks shooting in the air like fireworks. While on the floor, he struggled to hold Eric who was desperately trying to get to his feet. Jahad had no idea why. By the sound of it there had to be at least four or five shooters with automatic weapons. The shots were too rapid to be regular handguns.
“Atomic! I gotta see what’s up with Atomic.” Eric pushed himself up on his hands and knees and snatched away from Jahad, paying no attention to the broken glass that bit into his palms.
“Bring your ass back here Eric! He’s dead!” Jahad shouted. His eyes grew wider than saucers when a firebomb sailed through the front window in the direction of Atomic’s twisted body, “Ayo Eric, get the fuck out the way!”
Eric pressed on, consumed with grief taking took no notice of the firebomb flying in his direction. He paused right before he reached Atomic to look back at Jahad just as the firebomb crashed into the floor inches from his face and exploded, blinding him with heat, “Aaahhhh shiiiiiiit!” Eric screamed, trying to douse out the flame cooking his face, while fire seeped underneath his stomach and ignited his clothes.
“Goddammit!” Jahad yelled and started out the booth, thinking he could save Eric, but it was all in vain. The only sensible thing to do was put a bullet in Eric’s head to end his misery.
Seeing that Jahad was about to make the same mistake as Eric, Tony dived on his back and pinned him to the floor, “Let’s get the fuck outta here Jah! If you try that superman shit, we gon’ both be in this muthafucka roasted.”
“This shit is my fault Tone. I shoulda killed those bastards. I shoulda killed ‘em!”
“You won’t have a chance if we don’t get the fuck outta here! C’mon man!”
By this time, two more firebombs landed in the sitting area, setting fire to every thing in sight. Thick black smoke looking like dark storm clouds rose from the carpet and leather furniture, filling every inch of the studio. The posters caught fire and peeled away from the walls like old ancient scrolls.
Jahad watched transfixed, with an unbearable pain in his heart. Tears of despair, pain, and rage wailed up in his eyes as his goal and last chance to live a straight prosperous life all went up in flames. Before turning to leave, he took one last look at his shattered dream while an unquenchable fire ignited inside him. The same fire that would eventually transform him into the man he was destined to be.
~~~~
It was going on three thirty when Jahad and Tony made it back to Monroe projects. Both smelled of smoke and looked as if they were coal mine workers. Across the street, school kids were streaming out the park as usual, just another normal day. It wouldn’t be long before the park turned into a war zone with blood that would never wash from the concrete.
Jahad’s one and only thought as he exited the cab was the Coco Twins. More to the point, killing them, although he doubted he would accomplish it today after the move they pulled. Most likely they would be holed up somewhere like the snakes they were. So for the time being he set his mind to killing their workers; all of them if he could manage it with two guns and four clips.
“Ayo Jah, what’s up man?” Tony asked following him to his building, “What we gon’ do?”
“You ain’t gon’ do nothing ‘cause you ain’t getting involved. This shit is my fault so I’m a handle it. If I call you later I’ll let you know what’s up. If not, make sure my family is taken care of. I mean that Tone; I would do the same for you.” Jahad’s eyes held a pain so intense Tony couldn’t help but feel it.
“You know you don’t even have to ask me no shit like that. I’m sayin’ tho’, I’m coming with you.”
“Nah Tone. Just leave man, I got this.” He said and raced off toward Janet’s building.
Janet sat in the living room painting her toenails when he came in. She rushed out to meet him, wearing nothing but a long T-shirt, a smile stretching across her pretty mouth, with thoughts of seducing Jahad in the hallway until she saw his soot filled clothes. “What happened to you? Your boss had you burning furniture or something?”
He said nothing as he walked past her with a deranged look in his eyes, headed towards the bedroom.
“Jahad, answer me Baby,” she gripped him by his shoulder, turning him, “what happened?”
“Now ain’t the time Janet.” He said through clinched teeth, snatching away from her.
In the bedroom he went straight to his closet and took out his bulletproof vest, two Glock 40 calibers from the top shelf, and two extra clips. The vest he strapped on over his sooty t-shirt before tucking both guns into his waist line. To conceal everything, he pulled on a Timberland hoodie. Janet watched him from where she sat on the bed worried, but silent. The look in his eyes told her now wasn’t the time to bother him.
Once he was prepared for war, he walked to the bed and grabbed Janet’s hand, “Listen Ma, I got fifty eight thousand in my Timberland box. If I don’t come back, make sure my mom gets forty thousand and you keep the rest. If the police come around asking questions, you don’t know me. In fact, get all my shit outta here and take it to my mom’s crib. I’ll meet you there later if I can, a’ight?”
Janet stood and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, “What you mean if you don’t come back? You have to come back!” She cried.
“Calm down Janet,” he kissed her tears, “I wish I could explain, but I can’t. All I can say is somebody fucked up.”
“Please Jah, don’t do nothing crazy. Please Baby.”
“I ain’t got no damn choice. These muthafuckas forced my hand!”
“You do have a choice. You can do whatever it is you plan on doing and risk going to jail or getting killed. Or you can stay focused on what we’re trying to build. We’re almost there Jah. Don’t give up now Baby.”
Jahad shook his head to fight back tears, “It’s over Janet. It ain’t nothing to build no more. Those faggot ass Coco Twins burnt down the goddamn studio and bodies two of my homies, so where is my choice, huh? I don’t have a damn choice!” He shouted and ran out the bedroom.
Stunned, Janet stumbled back into the bed, growing instantly cold, “The Coco Twins... Oh my God. No.” She ran from the bedroom, intent on stopping Jahad, just as the apartment door slammed. There was something terribly important she had to tell him. She had passed the living room when the telephone rung and froze her in her tracks. For some reason, she had a pretty good idea who was calling. Hesitantly she answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Janet?” Hector spoke her name, calm and quiet.
“Y-yes.”
“I need you Janet... I really need you.”
Chapter 13
The first people Jahad spotted when he crossed the street into the park were his friends sitting at their usual park bench. Hector’s people were out in numbers too, crowding the handball court with a few young women from the projects among them, scheming on money for hairdo’s and new outfits. Scanning the area, he guessed that there were about twenty-five to thirty people, and if he could he was going to kill every last one of them. He felt no compassion at all. How could he, when the Coco Twins felt none for him. So everybody in the vicinity of the handball court were targets.
First, before he made his move, his friends had to leave the park. He already accepted that he might die today. If he did it would be his own fault, since he didn’t kill the Coco Twins when he had the chance. By his way of thinking, his friends shouldn’t have to face the same fate because of his mistake.
“Ayo, Tone said he wanted to build with you niggas,” he said as he approached thinking up a quick lie, “he’s up on my mom’s roof waiting.”
Razor looked up frowning, “Why in the hell didn’t he come out here?”
Jahad shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, ask him.”
“Jah, I thought you said the Coco Twins were turning this shit over to us.” Derrick said, pushing himself off the bench, “Man-Man still got niggas out here pumpin’.”
“Oh word, Duke out here? Good.” Jahad said, and a spark of his menace intent flashed through his eyes, “That’s what Tone wants to build with ya’ll about.”
Derrick nodded, walking off with Joey and Kwan following, while Razor stood in place, his eyes locked on Jahad’s face. “Jah what’s really up man? The only thing slow about me is the way I walk and something ain’t right.”
Jahad shook his head back and forth, trying to rid himself of the pain. The vision of Atomic’s head exploding, Eric’s burning body, and the studio going up in flames was clear as water in his mind. Along with the vision came that same strong urge to strike out at everybody involved, whether directly or indirectly. Looking back at Razor, he saw the one person who would be his best asset in making it happen, “They fucked up Razor, word up, they fucked up fam’!”
“Who? What the hell you talking ‘bout?”
“The Coco Twins. They had the studio burnt down and merked Eric and Atomic.”
“What!” Razor reached to his waist and pulled out a Beretta 9mm, “Where the fuck they at?”
“I’m sayin’, I’m ‘bout to body all them muthafuckas over there.” Jahad looked over his shoulder at the handball court.
Razor smiled, “Word. C’mon lets kill ‘em.”
Razor started walking off, but Jahad grabbed his shoulder. “Hold up Sun. You need something to cover your face with, just in case we make it out alive.”
“Fuck that, it’s on nigga!”
Jahad pulled the hood over his head and drew the strings tight so that only his eyes and nose were showing then followed behind Razor with his head down, hoping he wouldn’t draw attention to himself. Razor on the other hand, walked with his gun out to his side without a care in the world of who saw him. The crowds on the handball court were too occupied selling drugs, and shooting dice to notice them until it was too late. From about forty feet away, Razor took off running aiming at the heart of the crowd.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Jahad ran to Razor’s right, lifted both his guns, and started picking off those trying to escape.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Bullets ripped into the crowd, slamming a few people back into the wall before they fell to the concrete dead or either holding their wounds, screaming in agony. When Jahad’s magazines clicked empty, he calmly stuffed them in his hoodie pocket and popped in two fresh clips. Razor, living up to his name, dropped his gun once his bullets were spent, and started slitting the throats of those too wounded to get away. All around them were dead and wounded people, some trying desperately to crawl away, but there was no escape. Jahad walked through the dead, shooting the wounded in the back of their heads. At that moment, his conscience was filled with something dark and evil... Revenge!
He was on the verge of stepping over a dead body to kill his fifth victim, when a bullet slammed into his chest and lifted him off his feet. Once he hit the ground, he looked up in pain, his vision blurry, and saw Manuel taking aim at Razor who was bent over in the process of cutting someone’s throat.
“Razor!” Jahad yelled, lifting his gun, “Dive... Now!”
Without hesitating, Razor dived on top of a dead body, just as a hail of bullets flew over his head. Manuel thinking Jahad was dead, spun around shocked and made the last mistake of his life. Jahad took aim at the center of his forehead, and squeezed off two shots that jerk his head back with enough force to snap his neck. No sooner than he fell Jahad ran over still holding his chest and emptied one of his clips in Manuel’s face. Blood, bits of bone fingerprints, and pinkish colored brains splattered the concrete and Jahad’s boots before his gun clicked empty.
“C’mon Razor, lets get the fuck outta here.” Jahad said looking around paranoid. In all directions the park was empty; reminding him of the day his father was murdered.
“Hold up.” Razor called out, crawling on his hands and knees, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, still slitting throats with a determined look in his eyes. “Give me a second. I still got a few more left.”
“Fuck that, c’mon nigga!”
Reluctantly, Razor pushed himself off the ground covered in blood and followed close behind Jahad. They made it to the edge of the park boarding Story Avenue when two uniform cops came crossing the street towards them with their guns out. Jahad was about to turn and run, but Razor wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
“Give me your gun and front like you hurt.”
