Keyshia and Clyde (8 page)

Chapter 12
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When they arrived back at the hotel, both of them were feeling joyous. Neither had had such a good time in recent memory as they sang Lyfe Jennings's songs one after another, laughing and even dancing as Clyde twisted and twirled Keyshia around.

Laughing, Keyshia waved him off when she couldn't take it any longer. “You are so crazy, Clyde! I gotta go to the bathroom, you got my bladder hurtin'.”

They looked deeply into each other's eyes, unwilling to let the moment end. Finally, Clyde let go of her hand and she backed away toward the bathroom, never losing eye contact. She grabbed a Macy's bag and her purse before she entered the bathroom and told him she would have a surprise for him when she came out.

Just as she was about to close the door, Clyde said, “Yo.” Keyshia turned around and he said, “You ain't no ho. You had to do what you had to do to survive at the time. You are smart and beautiful and have no reason to live like that today, 'cause . . .” He paused as he searched for the right words to say. “ 'Cause,” he repeated, “I love you, and you never, ever have to feel alone again.”

Keyshia couldn't believe what she'd just heard. She could hardly contain herself as her eyes welled up. She dropped her bags and ran over to Clyde. They hugged each other tight. Through hard tears, Keyshia had to ask once more, “Clyde, you love me?”

Fighting back his tears, he nodded and said, “Yeah, Keyshia, I do.”

Keyshia could no longer hold it in as they continued to embrace for what seemed an eternity. “I love you, too, Clyde,” she said before going into the bathroom.

Keyshia felt warm and sexual after she took a shower. As she dried off with a towel, she looked at her purse and got an urge to take her mood to another level. She put on her robe and pulled out her weed, blunt, and crack vials from her purse. Then she stared at the drugs as an overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over her. She attempted to open the blunt, but she couldn't. She then stood up and walked over to the toilet, lifted the seat, and threw all the drugs down the toilet and flushed. She was proud of herself and felt like a whole new person. When she turned around, Clyde was standing at the door, smiling. He pointed backward with his thumb into the room and said, “I was wondering if you wanted to get in the living room tub with me after you finished.” He'd got on her earlier for not knowing what a Jacuzzi was.

Keyshia smiled and said, “You funny!” She ran to him and jumped into his arms and wrapped her long legs around him. “Carry me, nigga!”

As Keyshia's bare body lay comfortably behind Clyde's inside the bubbling hot Jacuzzi, the couple embraced and enjoyed every minute of the fleeting night.

“Yo,” Clyde said, “I noticed that when you speak in front of me you sound country as hell, but when you get in front of people, your accent is gone and you speak all proper and shit. Why you do that?”

Keyshia smiled. “ 'Cause whenever I'm feeling comfortable in front of somebody who I know won't judge me, I's tends to be relax. But when I'm in front of outsiders, I be actin'. You know, like they do in the movies. I could turn into anybody I want to.”

Clyde joked, “So, I's guess you's feel comf'ble 'round me now?”

Keyshia slapped his knee and said, “I's gonna kick yo' ass, too, if you keep playin' wit' me 'bout how I talk, boy.” They went back and forth the rest of the night, but the laughter was interrupted when Keyshia asked Clyde about his life and his parents.

Clyde grew a little tense, but he was willing to tell his girl about his past because she'd been strong enough to tell him about hers. He thought about where he wanted to start and felt assured as she took his fingers between hers and kissed them gently.

“I was about three years old when it happened. Me and my two older brothers awoke to my mother screaming. Next thing we know, we hear a loud boom and then a real long silence. We were so scared that we didn't know what to do. Then my oldest brother, Ceasar, finally got up and opened our room door and we walked down the hall to my parents' bedroom and looked and saw my father sitting on the bed like he was in a trance, holding a gun in his hand. We looked across and that's when we saw my mother's best friend, Martha, who stayed over at our house a lot, next to my mother slumped on the floor with blood falling from her face. Martha was crying as she held her in her arms and yelled to us, ‘Call the police, your daddy done shot your momma!' ” Keyshia felt his body tense as he explained, “None of us could believe what was happening. It was so unreal at the time, like a dream.”

Clyde put his head down. “Martha took all three of us in and raised us till the checks ran out. Since I was the youngest and just turned eighteen, you know, I was next to go, so I got a li'l room. Actually it's an abandoned room I live in above where I work on a Hundred Eighteenth Street. It got running water, but it's officially an abandoned building according to the city.

“My middle brother, Sonny, he's a fucking beast. He's a stickup kid from hell. He was the one who taught me everything I know, but as he got older he started to change and got tired of short money he was getting and stepped up to the major leagues and started robbing banks and shit. Even when he wore a ski mask, they knew who he was, so he just stopped wearing them. He started robbing so many drug spots and numbers holes in the neighborhood, they just start giving it up on the sight of him. They figured they could make far more money than he could ever take if he spared their lives. Him and his man Wolf is just alike, psychos. So if you don't kill both of them bad boys, you better not kill just one, 'cause the other is coming back to massacre you and your whole family; your mother, father, sister, brother, kids, everybody. These niggas done it before, I'm telling you. Them niggas are seven-thirty straight up—crazy. That's the only reason them niggas are still alive today. That's the reason I don't fuck with my brother on jobs anymore, because they want to kill everybody if they feeling moody.

“My oldest brother, Ceasar, is nothing like us; he's been working legit jobs since he was fifteen. He never got into trouble and graduated from high school and everything. He even been working at the same bank since his senior year in school and now is an assistant manager of the branch.” Clyde smiled as he reflected on his older brother's doing well. “Yeah, he ain't nothing like us, and I'm happy 'cause at least one of our mother's kids turned out well.”

Keyshia told him, “You got a good heart, you just do bad things, like you told me. You real smart and you probably can do anything you want if you want to, Clyde.”

Clyde shook his head. “Naw, I peaked. My greatest gift in life is doing stickups. The shit is in my blood. But you,” he went on, “you are the real gifted one. You got natural instincts and wit. Some shit you can't learn, either you have it or you don't. And Keyshia,” he said seriously, “you got that shit.”

Keyshia listened to every new revelation about herself with disbelief. “But I can hardly read or write and been told by my family and teachers that I's dumb.”

Clyde quickly retorted, “And you believed them.” He turned her around toward him and said, “All that bullshit that happened to you your whole life was occupying your mind for all those years. You never concentrated on things schoolwise, because you could've cared less. But now that you got that shit and you know it wasn't your fault, you can move on and do you for the first time in your life—and when you do, watch what happens.

“That first time we met in Marshall's, the way you got me out the situation, the way you talked to three grown-ass men and convinced them when it was so obvious I was there stealing, but you convinced them anyway that I was innocent, and they believed you, and we walked out the door.” Clyde shook his head. “Hell, you even convinced me to give you half the loot on the robbery, and I'm one of the hardest niggas to ever want to come off with my dough.” He chuckled. “What you should do is concentrate on becoming a lawyer, 'cause you can talk and convince the devil himself that you didn't belong in hell. You mad intelligent, yo!”

Keyshia kissed him softly on his lips, and Clyde complimented her with his tongue, and they kissed until they were in a frenzy. Clyde and Keyshia rose as water dripped from their glistening bodies. He picked her up with his tongue still connected to hers and laid her on top of the plush bed. Keyshia had her legs spread, welcoming him to her sanctuary, but Clyde continued to explore her mouth and neck. His hands caressed her body, sending Keyshia into bliss as she began to beg him to enter her. Clyde didn't hear her pleas as he continued exploring her body with his mouth, tongue, and hands. Keyshia's eyes began to flutter and she began to gasp louder, “Clyde, put it in! Fuck me!” as her body trembled in anticipation. Clyde mounted her, and Keyshia began to moan loudly over and over again. Suddenly she shrieked like a madwoman, “That's right, take this pussy, take this shit! ” The zone was broken as Clyde looked down on Keyshia in astonishment as she continued screaming, “Take this pussy! Fuck me, motherfuckers! Take it!” Keyshia's face was scrunched up and rabid, her eyes closed as if she were in another place and time. She began forcing him by pulling his hips toward her.

“Keyshia!” Clyde yelled, grabbing her wrist. “Keyshia. Snap out of it. It's me, it's me—Clyde!”

She suddenly opened her eyes and began to shake and cry. Clyde told her it was okay and lay down next to her and wrapped his entire body around her as she eventually fell asleep.

Chapter 13
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The next morning, they packed up in silence. Clyde was originally going to take the bus back to the city but ruled it out because of all their baggage. Besides, he felt Keyshia didn't need to be around so many people at that moment. He wanted to protect her from that point on and ensure that she would never be abused again. He had developed a newfound anger and hate, and he knew that it would not be settled until the wrong was made right. A boy named Omar and a preacher from South Carolina had hurt his baby when she was weak and innocent and unable to defend herself. They'd scarred her for life and never suffered the consequences. But for every action there was a reaction, and Clyde would be the reactor. He knew one thing—they might not be dealt with that day, maybe not that week or that year, but they would be dealt with one day! He was sure of it.

The couple pulled up in front of Clyde's building on 118th Street at about six-thirty that evening. Clyde had to make two trips to bring all the packages upstairs and into the apartment. Keyshia was right behind him when he turned on the lights in the apartment, and that's when he saw his brother Sonny sitting in the chair and staring out the window. Clyde was caught even more off guard when he saw Wolf creep out of the kitchen with a .357 Magnum dangling from his hand. Clyde turned toward Sonny and yelled, “Yo, what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”

Sonny said almost casually, “A few nights ago an old-school nigga from uptown named Sugar Bear was murdered inside a motel in the Bronx.” Keyshia nearly lost her breath when she saw the cannon hanging from Wolf's hand.

Clyde clutched her tighter and said, “Don't worry, Keesh, that's my brother and his stupid-ass partner, Wolf.” Wolf smiled and made a howling sound.

Sonny continued slowly, “Before he was murdered, his boys said they last saw him leaving with a girl on a Hundred Twenty-sixth between Lex and Park, in a local spot frequented by young tramps looking to get with a baller for the night.” Sonny stood up and walked toward his brother.

“They described the girl as young, dark-skinned, and real, real skinny.” Sonny looked Keyshia over carefully. “As it turned out,” he continued, “Sugar Bear got caught with his pants down so to speak and caught a bad one.” Sonny frowned. “They say that somebody or some two”—being sarcastic—“smashed that boy's head in like a watermelon. Smashed it so bad the cops even found some of his brains on the ceiling.

“Police said whoever done it was an expert, 'cause they didn't even have no witnesses, no fingerprints, no suspects, no nothing, other than a three-hundred-and-fifty-pound naked-ass body with his asshole ripped out.” Sonny walked directly up to Clyde. “My guess it was with a shotgun.” He took a deep breath as he scratched his head and started walking back and forth. “Well, it seemed that Sugar got some people who was interested in his well-being. And it also seems that he owed these cats a whole lot of money, not including the money he had on the street, but the money and drugs the police got from his apartment after they searched it after his death because it appeared to be a drug-related killing. Now these people could care less about a grimy undercover homo like Sugar, but they are, however, concerned about the lost drugs and money.”

Sonny stopped pacing and asked, “You probably asking yourself, What does this have to do with you, Sonny? And that a good question that I'm about to answer. Well, not only did Sonny's name come up, but also his little brother, Clyde. My first reaction was to laugh, and my second was to blow this nigga's brains out for throwing my brother's name in the mix like that, 'cause I know my li'l brother don't get down like that and I know that not his MO and I know he don't be fucking with no stink bitches on a setup tip. He work alone when he does his dirt.” Sonny chuckled. “But on the strength of keeping peace, I said that I would check with my brother and find out the deal even though I knew it was impossible.”

Sonny began to laugh even louder and said, “So, I wait for my li'l brother, and what the fuck do I see pulling up in a fucking black car?” He started to get heated. “My brother and a bitch stepping out with shopping bags full of shit like they fuckin' hit the lottery!”

Clyde tried to interrupt, “Yo, don't be callin' my girl a—”

Sonny cut him off quickly. “Shut the fuck up, Clyde, you ain't in no fuckin' position to be talking that bullshit right now, nigga!”

Clyde had never seen his brother this serious.

“Nigga, I don't know if you know it, but you and this bitch is about ta come up missing.”

“Yo, Sonny, I told you that she is my girl, don't be calling her no bitch!”

Sonny threw up his hands and said, “Oh, my bad, let me rephrase that, but you and this slut is about to come up missing.” Clyde hauled off and clocked Sonny in the jaw, catching him totally off guard. Wolf stepped up, but Sonny just shook him off and checked his lip for blood. He shook his head and said, “All right, I was out of line on that one. I didn't think you like her like that.” He spat and shook his jaw. “But, check this out, and this is the bottom line. You got two choices now. You, me, and Wolf, we got to kill all them niggas before they kill you and your . . .” He looked at Keyshia scornfully and said, “Girl.”

Keyshia could not bear to look Sonny in the eye.

Sonny continued, “ 'Cause if I figured this shit out already, they did also. And I ain't having them niggas come after you! Naa mean?”

Clyde spoke in a near whisper and asked while he eyed the floor, “What was the other choice, Sonny?”

Sonny looked at his brother and said, “What?”

“You heard me, you said we got two choices. What's the other choice?”

Sonny and Wolf looked at each other and laughed. “This nigga want to know the other choice, Wolf.” Wolf stared at Clyde like he was a cute five-year-old who had asked to drive his car.“You heard me, what's the other fuckin' choice?”

Sonny looked at Wolf again and said, “Oh shit, this nigga is serious. All right, nigga. The other choice is to come up with these niggas' money. Can you handle that?”

Sonny and Wolf laughed their asses off until Clyde shocked them by saying, “Then I'll come up with the money!” Their laughter stopped, and they looked at him as if he were losing his mind.

“Fuck do you mean you'll come up with the money?” Sonny asked.

“Just like I said, I'll come up with the money.”

Sonny got serious. “How the fuck are you gonna come up with that type of money?”

Clyde snapped, “Don't worry how I come up with the money, Sonny. Just tell them they'll get it.”

“Man, that's the stupidest shit I ever heard. All we got to do is slam all them niggas and that's that. Them niggas ain't that serious. Smash 'em and take they whole stash in the process. Rest of them niggas will be heading for the border, they don't want it!”

“I ain't killin' nobody, Sonny, I told you.”

“Nigga, fuck is you talking 'bout? That shit you did to Sugar wasn't no Cub Scout shit.”

Clyde remained silent.

“Listen, we hit them niggas quick, one shot and that be that. You or your peeps here ain't got to worry about none of the niggas coming after you no more.” Sonny smiled and said, “Or we could do a straight bank job, and the three of us, shit, we'd come off like the motherfuckin' mob. Nigga, what's up?”

Clyde looked Sonny in the eye again and said through gritted teeth, “I ain't doing no bank job and I ain't doing no killin', Sonny!”

Angry, Sonny simply shook his head. “All right, I'm gonna speak to them niggas and tell them that you gonna pay. But remember this, nigga, this my last time bailing your ass out! You hear me? My last time!” Clyde shook his head. Sonny stared menacingly at Keyshia and Clyde and said, “Pack y'all shit. You can't stay here no more 'cause they might come after you before I talk to his peoples. I got a lay-low spot for y'all to stay at on Two Hundred Fifth Street in the Bronx.” He looked around Clyde's place and added, “It might be a step up from this place.”

•                  •                  •

The place where Sonny took them was a modest two-family house on a nice tree-lined block. Clyde and Keyshia occupied the basement apartment and lay low, waiting for Sonny to get back with them. The apartment was better than they expected, clean and spacious. Clyde was worried about the situation, but he didn't want Keyshia to know that he hadn't figured out how he was going to come up with that type of money.

Clyde took small comfort in that at least it wasn't about no revenge shit, only business. That's how cats in Harlem got down; they looked at the bigger picture for the most part and tried not to take shit personal. Sugar Bear's bosses, Clyde thought, were probably just a bunch of niggas that came up on the same block together from back in the day. When niggas start getting money they form their own little crew, consisting of niggas who been on the block forever. Out of that crew, they ran the entire block, depending on how strong or greedy they were. If they had both those attributes, they ruled the block exclusively with their product; nobody else could sell on that block. You could have several crews pumping crack in and out of that block, yellow tops, green tops, red tops, or black tops. But it would be the same people, pumping the same products, supplying the entire area.

Sugar Bear had his own crew and made the most money out of them all; he had better quality and more potent crack because he didn't cut it up with all the bullshit like the rest of the crews. The other crews hated him on the low-low, because he flaunted his riches and talked down to them 'cause he was getting more money. There were a lot of people happy to see his demise. On the block, Sugar tried to fuck everybody's girl, sister, or mother and was more than happy to tell everyone that he did the next day. Even the police were happy to see that he finally fucked with the wrong person. Sugar would not be missed.

After a couple of days, both Keyshia and Clyde were starting to feel a little more at ease. They even began going shopping for household goods. Since the apartment was cable ready, they bought a twenty-seven-inch television and DVD player. They even went to the supermarket, and Keyshia, who was already an excellent cook, began fixing Clyde home-cooked country-style meals that he enjoyed. Despite the circumstances that surrounded them, they tried to make the best of it and even grew closer in the process.

“Clyde,” Keyshia asked one night while they lay in bed together, “did you ever wonder what you was good at? You know, what you was really meant to do with ya life?”

Clyde thought about it for a second and answered, “Yeah, I want to work for a bank one day, work real hard, and maybe become a manager, maybe even one day make it up to regional manager.” Keyshia smiled and turned on her side, pleased to hear Clyde talk about his future. “And then,” Clyde said enthusiastically, “after I make it to the top . . .” He paused and looked at Keyshia. “I'm gonna stick they fuckin' ass up!” He laughed and laughed.

Keyshia gave him a love tap on his arm for stringing her along with his joke. “You are stupid.”

“Naw, for real yo, I won't even need a gun. I'll just walk in the vault and carry that shit out like they did in
Scarface.
” He looked at Keyshia and asked her, “What about you? What was you meant to do in life?”

She thought for a moment and said, “To take care of you.”

Clyde was flattered, but he asked, “For real, what would you do?”

“I am for real, boy, what do you think I should be?”

Clyde lay back on his pillow and said, “I'll get back to you on that.”

•                  •                  •

They did this every single night. Talked and learned about each other and fell asleep snugly in each other's arms, waking up in the same position every morning. They hadn't made love the entire time they were there, until one night . . .

The moonlight coming through the window was the only light in the room as they lay facing each other, preoccupied with their own thoughts. Keyshia shook Clyde softly and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

He stared at her and smiled. “Nothing, just thinking.”

“That's what I want to know, what you thinking,” she joked.

He turned and lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. “It's just all this shit that's going down. I feel bad about putting you in the middle of it.” He shook his head. “If only I would have minded my business, took his shit and be out, and—”

Keyshia stopped him. “And we would have never met.”

He stared at her and said, “It just that, I'd die if something happened to you.”

Keyshia was stunned. She still wasn't used to having someone care about her well-being, and each time he said something like this, the same indescribable feeling overwhelmed her.

She got on top of Clyde and said, “I love you, boy, I love you to death. I love you because I know you fuckin' love me, and I'm willing to ride and die with you and do whatever it take to see us through this.” She sat him up and squared her face with his and spoke with dead seriousness. “I ain't talkin' no punk smooth shit, just to hear myself talk, I'm for real. Whatever you tell me to do, I'm gonna do it. If you told me to sell this body to get this money up, I'll do it. Anything for you, Clyde, you hear me? Anything. And if by chance, baby, we don't come up with the money, fuck it! If you have to die, we gon' die together, 'cause I ain't gon' let no motherfucka put they hands on you, 'cause I love you, boy.”

A single tear rolled down the side of Clyde's face as he stared into hers. It suddenly occurred to him that he no longer had to think alone or act alone, because he had Keyshia. He felt stronger. In his heart he was now ready to conquer the world because somebody had his back and wasn't gonna let him fall.