Cartier Cartel (4 page)

"In the hood either you fight and earn respect or you run and lose
respect," Trina's words resonated in her head. "You better go back out there
and earn your respect!"

Shorty Dip exited the car first in her toughest gangster imitation.

"Oh, bitch, you think you tough?" Dip asked in a gruff voice, trying to
antagonize the girl who was half her age.

"Ain't no shook hands in Brook-land," Cartier spat and prepared herself
for battle.

"Bitch, I will beat the Brooklyn out of you if you don't give me back my
shit," Dip threatened.

Cartier, still not bowing down, stood firm. "I'm not giving you shit and
I'm not gonna be too many more bitches-"

"Yo, Dip, punch that little smart bitch in her fucking face!" Angie said
from inside the SUV.

Cartier cut her eyes toward the SUV and said, "Why don't you come
do it?"

The remaining three women inside the Navigator got out and surrounded
Cartier. Each woman looked as if they'd been in a war. They had battle scars
etched into their hard, leathery skin. Their beer bellies protruded from their
jeans and not one of them tried to hide their muffin tops with the tight
tank tops they wore. The variety of colorful weaves-orange, blond, and
burgundy-accentuated their ugliness.

Yet Cartier refused to be intimidated. She hated Dip and really wanted
to spit in her face for the way she treated her crew who had been loyal to her.
All Cartier wanted was a measly dress and that was too fucking hard for Dip
to comprehend. And what killed Cartier was that the dress was f-r-e-e. Dip
acted as if Cartier wanted her to toss it on her credit card.

"This between me and Dip-one on one," Cartier declared. "But if y'all
wanna get in it, then we can all toss it up. Whatever, however, is how I get
down!"

Dip knew Cartier was tough and could bring the heat. She looked into
Cartier's eyes and knew she was prepared to give her a fight. Several things
raced through Dip's head in a matter of seconds. She wondered if she still
had it in her to stomp out a girl half her age. Although an avid fighter all her
life, Dip hadn't had to beat on a bitch in years. Her reputation preceded her
and usually kept people at bay. Dip also knew if she backed down now, with
Jacki, Karen, and Angie watching, she'd never live that down. Dip fingered
the screwdriver she had stuck in her back pocket and decided to ask Cartier
one last time to give up her shit, or else she was prepared to go all out.

The loud banging on her front door almost gave Trina a heart attack.
Instinctively, she knew something had happened to her only child. She ran
and flung open the door, only to see Monya, Bam, Lil Momma, and Shanine
standing there.

"Where's my child?" Her words were laced with panic.

"They're gonna jump her!" Monya cried.

"What? Who? Where the fuck is she and why the fuck are y'all not with
her?"

"It's Shorty Dip and her crew," Monya replied.

"Shorty Dip from Cypress projects?"

"Yeah, her," Lil Momma answered.

"Why the fuck is that grown-ass bitch fucking with my child?" Trina was
asking questions as she dressed feverously. "Where's Cartier!"

"She's in front of my building. We all took off running and we thought
she was behind us, but she stayed," Monya explained.

"You damn right she stayed 'cause a Timmons don't run from no damn
bitch! They bleed like we bleed."

Trina couldn't wait to get her hands on Dip. She and Dip were a year apart
and had beef back in the days when they were in high school. Of course, they
argued over what women of all ages fight over: a nigga. But they never came
to blows. Each woman knew the other could handle her own.

As they ran down the block, Trina called Monya's mother, Janet, who
happened to be her best friend, to meet her in front of the building. Trina
didn't hesitate to threaten the Cartel that if something happened to her
daughter, she was going to personally whip each and every one of their asses
and then make Cartier whip their asses, too.

As the crew came running down the block, Trina saw a crowd of women
surrounding her daughter. She called out, "Dip!"

Hearing her name stopped Dip in her tracks.

"Who that?" Dip asked. Shewas confusedwhenshe sawan unrecognizable
face racing toward the ruckus. As the crowd drew closer, the face came into
focus. It was a face she didn't want to see.

Trina looked up and saw Janet only a few steps behind them.

"What the fuck is up with you in my daughter's face?" Trina demanded.

Dip was more than stressed at the newfound news that Cartier was
Trina's daughter, yet she had to keep it gangster.

"Yo, tell your daughter to return the shit that doesn't belong to her."

Trina looked to Cartier. "You all right?"

Cartier nodded.

"Cartier ain't returning a motherfucking thing! Possession is nine-tenths
of the game. Whatever my daughter got that's yours is now hers! Let's set it
off in this bitch! Cartier, I got this one!"

As Dip went to reach inside her back pocket for the screwdriver, Trina
smashed her in her face with a strong right hook. Dip stumbled backward
and the crowd began thumping. Janet jumped on Jacki and then Cartier
Cartel took care of Karen and Angie. Punches began flying, hair got pulled,
and even a few bites caught flesh. These women were fighting for respect, wasn't
given
freely
or
easily
in
the
streets.
Trina was
trying to
damn
near kill Dip for fucking with her daughter and settling a score from back in
the day. Trina had a lot of pent up anger and knew if she didn't end it today,
then this would be an unsettled beef.

The two-block radius was a tight-knit community, and once word got
out that they were fighting outsiders, it was a wrap. On that day, not only did
Dip and her crew get the shit beat out of them, but the neighborhood made
sure they totally destroyed her Navigator. They smashed all the windows out,
kicked dents into her exterior, and slashed all tires. When they were through,
the car looked totaled.

Dip and her crew were literally chased out of the neighborhood. When it
was all said and done, Trina and Janet had a chat with Cartier's crew.

"I'm so disappointed that you girls would leave my baby out here alone,"
Trina began. "Anything could have happened. She could have been jumped
or stabbed. Janet and I never got down like that-"

"You know that's right," Janet interjected. "If I had a beef with somebody,
then Trina had a beef with that same person. And Monya, I'm really surprised
at you of all people. You lucky I don't whip your ass right here and now!"

"Nah, don't do that, Ms. Janet," Cartier defended her friend. "It's all good. I
know Monya has my back. She just got spooked. Ain't that right, Monya?"

"Yeah, you right," Monya answered weakly. She was afraid of her mother,
and although Janet stood strong, Monya knew she was embarrassed her
daughter had run away.

Cartier took up for her best friend, because Ms. Janet gave Monya the
worst beatings. And Cartier knew Monya wasn't really a fighter. Monya was
interested in boys, money, and clothes. If she never had a fight in her life,
Monya would be happy.

Trina concluded, "Well, from now on remember this, y'all crew. Don't let
nothing-fear, an ass-kicking, a nigga, money, or bitches-come between
the crew!"

That night when Cartier and Trina were alone, her mother told her how
proud she was of her for standing up for herself when nobody else was there
to have her back.

"Ma, I only did what you taught me to do"

"That don't minimize how I feel. You could have run like the rest of your
crew and I wouldn't have known shit. So I know this wasn't about me. I know
you did what you felt was right in your heart, and for that I'm really proud of
you.

Trina walked over to Cartier and they both embraced.

Cartier couldn't explain how fighting on the streets of Brooklyn could
bring her and her mother closer, but strangely that was exactly what it did.

couple weeks after the brawl, Trina took Cartier down to Atlanta for
the wedding of one of their relatives. While there, Cartier picked up
on a scheme and couldn't wait to put it to use in New York. Cartier knew
this could make her and the crew some money. Just thinking about it made
Cartier antsy with anticipation. She figured with this newfound knowledge,
they could take over Brooklyn first and then the entire city, one borough at
a time.

In the confines of her bedroom, Cartier worked diligently making
boobie bags. The scheme Cartier scoped in the ATL consisted ofboobie bags
dismantling the sensormatic alarm box, rendering the alarm system useless.
Sensormatics were the alarm items placed on clothes in department stores
that had to be removed by the cashier before customers left the store. If they
were not removed, the alarm would go off soundly and immediately. With
the sensormatic disarmed, they could fill the bag to capacity within seconds,
and casually walk out of the store.

The boobie bag contraption was almost like magic. Cartier took two
large shopping paper bags. The first one, she lined it with aluminum foil,
taping the foil in place. Once the bag was wrapped, she then slid the wrapped
bag into a perfectly crisp large shopping paper bag! It took her three days to
manufacture twenty bags before she called her crew up to her bedroom to explain how the bags worked.

Monya was the first to ask a question. "So you saying that we can drop
anything we want inside this here bag without taking off the alarms and when
we walk out the front door of the store, the alarm box won't go off?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying"

"But how do you know this works?" Lil Momma, who wasn't down with
boosting, asked. "This could be an urban legend or some shit."

"I know it works, because when I was in Atlanta, I saw it for myself, with
my own eyes."

"Jeez, do you know how much money we gonna make?" Monya asked.
"If this works out the way I think it will, in a couple years we'll be able to get
our own apartments and won't have to live with our mothers."

"We should all save up our money to buy a five bedroom apartment in
the city and go to all the hottest clubs each night and hopefully, meet all the
rappers." Lil Momma was fully enthralled in the conversation.

"What do you mean we? You ain't down," Bam was quick to point out to
Lil Momma.

"If I wanna get down, I can!" Lil Momma challenged. "Right, Cartier? If
I wanted to get down, I could?"

"Listen, we got better things to discuss right now than talk about whether
Lil Momma is going to move with us from now on. We gotta make a pact that
these bags will be our secret. No one must know how to make them or use
them. Understood?" Cartier looked in each one of their faces to get a feel for
each girl's thoughts.

"Understood," they all said in unison.

t only took a couple of days before the weekend came and the girls went
out to test the bags. Lil Momma was a willing participant, but now roles
had switched. Cartier and Monya were the ones who went into the stores
and gathered the clothing and packed each bag, while Bam, Lil Momma, and Shanine took turns walking out of the stores. Each bag always had five of each
item. If there was only four pieces of an item in the store, then that item, no
matter how fly it was, had to be left. Every member of the crew got treated
equally; that way no rifts or animosity would arise. Within a couple of weeks,
each girl had more clothing than they could wear in a month's time. They
had a steady stream of customers, and even had the local neighborhood and
surrounding neighborhood boys interested in them.