ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT) (20 page)

             “Hey Bug, look here, man. Some shit just went down up here, and I need to know if I can come through and get some of that shit I got from you last time,” said Mike, purposefully avoiding saying anything that might be used against him in a court of law.

             “Yeah, y-y-y-you know what it is, my n-nigga. Whatever you need, I got you. Matter fact I j-j-just got some new shit in.”

             “Say no mo’ then. I’ll be through later on today, ya’ heard?”

             “Th-that’s what it is then.”

   Mike hung up the phone, and went back into the hospital to let Ant D know what the business was.

Chapter 21

              Columbia, better known as “The Metro”, was the state of South Carolina’s capitol. The city had a population of about 450,000 people, and it was located dead in the center of the state. Doing the speed limit, it was about an hour and a half drive from Greenville.

              That afternoon at around 5:30, Mike and Ant D got off on the exit that put them on Broad River Road. That took them directly into the heart of the city. They had rented a U-haul truck for the trip because they didn’t want to attract any extra attention from the police by driving their own cars. The pigs in Columbia were just as racist as the redneck cops back home in the Ville.

              Ant D pulled the truck into a gas station so Mike could call Stutter Bug and let him know that they were in town. They had to find out where to meet him.

   After he made the call, Mike came back to the truck, got in, and told Ant how to get to a hotel in West Columbia called Knights Inn. Twenty minutes later, Ant pulled into the Knights Inn parking lot and stopped in front of room number 34. They both got out, and Mike went over and knocked on the door.

   Mike saw somebody peep from behind the curtains before the door opened. It was Stutter Bug. He stood about 5’8”, was dark skinned, and had a low cut ceaser with waves. He was a little heavy for his size, but he was always quick to point out that it never stopped him from getting no pussy, so he wasn’t too concerned about it.

              Mike walked into the room first. Ant D walked in behind him, and closed the door. “M-m-m-mike, what’s happenin’, my n-n-n-n-nigga?” asked Bug as he gave Mike a pound and hug. “D-d-d-damn it’s been a m-m-m-minute since I seen yo’ ass, n-n-n-nigga! What’s good?”

             “Ain’t shit good right now, Bug. Yo, this is my folk right here, Ant D. This nigga like a fuckin’ brother to me, ya heard?”

             “W-w-w-what’s up, dog,” said Bug.

             “Ain’t shit,” replied Ant D tersely. He was ready to handle business, get what they had come for, and get the fuck back home. His sister was lying up in a hospital bed damn near dead, and he was ready to make somebody bleed. The small talk and chit chatter could wait for another time.

              Picking up on his homey’s demeanor, Mike said, “So what you got for us, Bug? Let’s go ‘head and handle this business.”

              Stutter Bug walked them over to the bed, where he had a large assortment of guns and ammunition laid out on display. There were a couple of AK-47’s, two AR-15’s, three black glock 9mm’s, four nickel plated 45’s, an Uzi, and a sawed off double barrel shotgun. And that’s not even getting into all of the ammo. There were 30, 40, and 75 round drum magazines available for each assault rifle. Bug also had cases of shotgun shells, shell catchers, and some night vision goggles. He had detachable pistol grips, and threaded barrels for the attachment of a flash suppressor for the AR. That crazy ass nigga even had grenades sitting on the bed!

             “Goddamn Bug, where the fuck you think we goin’, to muh’fuckin Afghanistan, or some shit?!” joked Mike.

             “N-n-n-n-n-never know what you might need,” said Bug. He smiled and revealed a chipped tooth.

             “You ain’t got no vests?” asked Ant D

              Bug walked over to the bathroom, and came back with two Kevlar bulletproof vests. Ant and Mike talked amongst each other for a minute, and then finally decided on the two AR’s, two Glocks, which were Mike’s favorite gun, the sawed off, the Uzi, and both vests. Then they racked up on ammunition. They were like two tricks in a house full of pussy!  

              “W-w-w-w-what y’all wanna do ‘bout the grenades though? Y-y’all straight on them?”

              Ant and Mike looked at each other, and then smiled. “Fuck it, let’s get em!” they said in unison.

              Bug packed everything into a large wooden crate with cellophane packaging, while Mike peeled the money for the merchandise from a stack of bills. After paying Bug the agreed upon price, plus a little extra for coming through on such short notice, Mike and Ant D took the crate outside, put it into the back of the truck, and then hopped in the front.

             Before they pulled off, Bug hollered at Mike and told him that once they took care of their business, to come back to the Met and chill for a minute. “M-m-m-me and my folk just opened a night club called Th-th-the G-Spot. Nothin’ but the best f-food, the best drink, and the best p-p-p-pussy, ya’ heard?”

             “That’s what it is, Bug. As soon as this shit right here get handled, we probably gonna need to get away for a lil’ minute anyway. So we’ll be back through,” said Mike, giving Bug a pound. Ant D started the U-Haul up, and pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road. They headed for the interstate that would take them back to the UPS.

$$$

At 11:30 P.M. Ant D pulled into his mama’s driveway back in the District, relieved at having made it back home without being stopped by the police. There was no telling how much time they would have got if they were caught with the type of shit they were riding around with. Those dumb ass crackers might’ve even thought they were fucking terrorists recruited by Bin Laden or the fucking Taliban.

              All of the lights were out, and the house looked completely deserted. And since Glo refused to leave the hospital until Meka woke up out of her coma, it was. She had been there earlier, to pick up a change of clothes and some hygiene products, and then she headed right back to the hospital to be by her daughter’s side. She hadn’t been there for her daughter when she was growing up, but she was damn sure going to be there for her now.

              Mike and Ant D got out and headed towards the rear of the truck to get the crate out so they could take it inside. As they were pulling it out, a candy apple red convertible Benz pulled up to the curb. It was Sylvia Brown, the owner of Sylvia’s Hair and Nail Salon. She waved and said, “Hey y’all, what’s going on?”

             “Ain’t nothin’, Sylvia. Same shit, different toilet, ya’ dig? Just tryna flush this muh’fucka, ya’ know?”

             “Yeah, I hear that. Somebody moving or somethin’?” asked Sylvia, being nosey as usual.

             “Naw, ain’t nobody moving, Sylvia. Why you ask that?”

             “Because when I pulled up I saw y’all pullin’ a big ass crate outta that U-Haul truck. So I figured somebody was moving.”

             “Sylvia, let me ask you a question real quick,” said Ant D. “Why the fuck is you so nosey? You done stopped doin’ hair, and started workin’ for the Sheriff’s office, or some shit?”

             “Damn Ant, calm yo’ ass down! I was just asking, damn! Anyways, tell Meka she need to come get her truck out my parking lot for somebody steal it. That lil’ pink Range Rover been sittin’ there since Saturday, and I ain’t gonna be responsible if anything happens to it. Y’all know how trifling muh’fuckas is. They’ll have that shit stripped, and sitting on bricks befo’ long. Where Meka at anyway?”

              Mike and Ant looked at each other. As meddlesome as Sylvia was, it was highly unlikely that she hadn’t already heard about what had happened to Meka. So more than likely, she was just playing dumb in order to see what additional information she could get. 

After a few seconds, it hit Ant that this would be the perfect opportunity to put his plan in motion. And what better person to get the word out than Sylvia, with her big ass mouth? Ant said, “Mike, go ‘head and tell her what’s poppin’, dog. I’m finna run in the house and grab somethin’ real quick.” Ant D took off for the house, leaving Mike to explain the situation to Sylvia.

             “So what’s going on, Mike,” asked Sylvia, salivating with anticipation at the juicy gossip she was about to receive. “Is Meka okay?” Sylvia lit up a Newport 100 and took a deep pull. She exhaled the smoke into the air, waiting for Mike to talk. He told her as much as he felt she needed to know to put the word out in the street, but without going into a whole bunch of details. Some shit was just better left unsaid, especially when dealing with somebody with a mouth like Sylvia’s.

              Five minutes later, Ant D came out of the house with a plastic Bi-Lo shopping bag filled with money. “Mike told you what time it is, right?”

             “Yeah, but who’d do something like that to Meka? And why?”

             “That’s what we tryna find out,” said Ant. He opened the plastic bag, and revealed the money to a wide eyed Sylvia. “You see that? That’s a hun’ned stacks right there on deck, cash money. We tryna find out who them pussy niggas was that did that shit to my sister. Whoever comes through with some reliable information we can use, the money’s theirs, ya’ heard?”

             “We want you to put the word out for us, Sylvia,” Mike said.

             “Oh, y’all know I’ma do that. This the best gossip I done got all year. Shiiiiiiit, with that much money, if I hear something I’ll tell you myself. I could use that money for real. Especially with the holidays coming up.”

             “That’s what it is then. Get at us if you hear somethin’, Sylvia.”

             “Oh most definitely,” she replied. “Oh yeah! Before I forget, y’all know tomorrow Shawn’s funeral, right?”

              “Naw, we ain’t even know that shit,” said Mike. “But that was our nigga, so you know we gon’ come through and show some love.”

                “Fa’ sho’, man. Shawn wasn’t even supposed to have died like that,” said Ant. “That nigga could’a had made it to the N.B.A or some shit, fa’ real. But you know what’s really crazy? After a while, you lose so many niggas that you kinda’ become numb to that shit. Shit don’t even mean nothin’ no mo’…”

                 There was a moment of silence as the gravity of Ant D’s statement sunk in. He and Mike reflected on all the niggas they’d known that had fell victim to the streets in one way or another. Either dead, strung out, or in jail with a number so big that they might as well have been in the grave. This was the unfortunate reality of life when you lived and survived in an impoverished neighborhood, where the cycle of death, either mental or physical, seemed to never end. But they were given this world, they didn’t make it.

                  After her own brief moment of reflection, Sylvia inhaled on her Newport. As she exhaled, she broke the silence by saying, “Well, I guess I’ll see y’all at the funeral then.”

     She slowly pulled away from the curb. Before she had even reached the end of the street, she had her cell phone out, running her mouth.  “Girlllll, wait ‘til I tell you what done happened now!”

              After getting the crate inside the house, Mike and Ant D inspected and cleaned their newly purchased arsenal before putting everything back into the box, and placing it inside Ant’s closet.

              Looking at the diamond encrusted bezel on his watch. Mike saw that it was past midnight. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have made a call earlier. Ant D was in the kitchen emptying a whole box of Lucky Charms into a large bowl that Gloria used to mix cake batter in. He got the milk from the fridge, poured it into the bowl, got him a spoon, and then took his dinner into the living room to bust that shit down. He put his favorite movie, “Scarface”, into the DVD player, and took a snort of coke off a twenty dollar bill before he began watching it for the thousandth time.