Crave All Lose All (24 page)

“So soon, it’s Christmas. I thought you wanted to spend time with Vinny,” Chandra said walking over to me.

“Y’ all are good. I’m gonna let y’all be.”

“Daddy, are you coming back?”

“I am.”

Chandra locked eyes with me and asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? What’s wrong, talk to me, Vincent?”

“I’m good, Chandra. I gotta run.”

She looked at me in disbelief. I kept it moving not wanting to explain myself.

“Before you go, take your gift with you,” she said moving to the tree and getting a wrapped present.

“Merry Christmas, Vincent…”

“You shouldn’t have. I mean, I’m good,” I said, not wanting to take the gift.

“Take it, Vincent. It’s Christmas, it’s from your son and me.”

Reluctantly, I took the gift, looked down at my son and said, “C’mere lil’ man, give daddy a hug bye.”

He jumped up and ran towards me, leaping into my arms. I hugged him close to my heart and felt like crying. I kept my composure, whispered in his ear, “I’ll always protect and love you,” and released him.

“Daddy, you gonna cry?” my son asked.

“I’m good lil’ man…”

Chandra seemed even more beautiful than I remembered. She had her hair in a short medium curled-out bob, her dark skin flawless.

“Give me a hug,” she said.

I hugged her holding her tight against me. I remembered how soft her body was. She was becoming a married woman. I pulled myself away from her and said, “I’ll catch y’all later. Merry Christmas.” I bounced out the apartment like it was on fire.

Eight blocks away, I pulled over to think. Spoon was dead, Chandra was getting married and I haven’t spoken to my mother in three months. I picked up my cell-phone thinking of my mother. I began dialing her number, feeling my heart race because it’s been a while since I talked to her. I hesitated pushing in the last digit. Finally, I did and her phone began to ring.

The phone was pressed to my ear, I listened to it ringing for a moment and thought,
she probably ain’t home
. I was about to hang up, I heard my mother quickly answer, saying, “Hello…merry Christmas.”

There was still air over the phone as I hesitated to speak.

“Hello,” she repeated.

I wanted to hang up, not knowing what to say. But it was like my mother had a sixth sense. I heard her say, “If it’s you, baby please say
something to me.”

My heart pounded like a jack-hammer. I opened my mouth but remained mute.

“Vincent, talk to me,” she said, like she definitely knew it was me.

I began tearing up, because it was good hearing her voice again. I held the phone tightly and stated, “I love you mama.”

“I know you do, baby. I love you too,” she warmly returned.

“How’ve you been?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Why don’t you come home, Vincent? I missed you…”

“I can’t. I did things, ma…not so good things,” I admitted to her.

“Oh Vincent, please come home and we can talk. I’m here for you, baby. Aunt Linda and I want you back home with us. Let’s be a family again.”

Tears came knowing that couldn’t be. “How’s Aunt Linda?”

“She’s good, working and missing her favorite nephew,” moms said.

It made me laugh.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“In New York…”

I heard her let out a dry cough and I became concerned.

“Ma, you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, baby…I just been a little under the weather lately,” she replied.

“You need money for a doctor?”

“No, I need my son home with me. I need my son out of trouble. I need to see my son, that’s what I need,” she stated steadfastly.

It made me feel bad.

“I’m taking care of myself, Ma. I’m doing great,” I lied.

She let out another dry cough and it sounded like she was short of breath.

“Ma, you sure you’re okay?” I repeated.

“Baby, don’t worry about me. If you’re so concern about me, come home and talk to me.”

“I will, ma…I promise.”

“When, Vincent? I want to see you. I want to talk to you. It’s Christmas day.”

“I love you, ma…I gotta go,” I said.

“Vincent, I want to say a prayer for you.”

“Ma, c’mon…I mean, you ain’t got to.”

“No…you’re out there on them streets doing God knows what and I pray for you every single night. I pray for you to come home. I pray for God to touch your heart. I pray for you to change your ways. Now I wanna pray for you with you listening,” she said.

I sighed, knowing that my mother could be relentless. “Okay ma, go ahead, I’m listening.”

“Our Father…our blessed Father in heaven, watch over my son, please. Talk to him, Father. You are his way, our Father. You’re always there guiding us, protecting us, steer my son in the right direction. Let him know that You are the only way on this earth, steer him from these worldly temptations. Let us surrender to You. Give us our all and have him understand You are love and understanding our blessed Father. Despite what he’s done in the streets, You are forgiving towards him. Let him not fall, oh Lord. I’m crying out to you dear Lord. Show him how to do things Your way, please Lord, our Father…lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever…amen.”

“Amen, thanks ma,” I said after the long prayer.

“Believe in God and He will deliver you out of whatever trouble you’re into…just believe in him, Vincent,” she said.

“Ma, I gotta go…merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” she replied in her loving tone.

I hung up and was in full blown tears while sitting in the driver’s seat. I had family that loved me so much and was out here doing me. My mother was praying for me every night. I loved her with all my heart, but was ashamed to go home and look her in the eyes after the sin I committed. I had become addicted to the life.

Early the next morning, Tyriq, Tip and I rode out to the shores of Long Island with Spoon’s body stinking in the trunk. We lined the trunk with heavy plastic, put a garbage bag over his head, taped his legs together and tied him up in the sheets with duct-tape and rope.

It was four in the morning. I was tired as fuck barely able to sleep in the past two days. I was in the backseat, peering out the window feeling fucked up. I was nervous traveling with a body in the trunk, thinking about state troopers pulling over three niggas in a car. But traffic was very light on the Southern State parkway. We didn’t see any cops around on our way to the fishing pier, an hour away from Queens.

I just wanted to get things over with, go home to take a much needed shower and catch some z’s. Tip was driving and Tyriq looked asleep in the front seat.

Around five, we arrived at the pier and surprisingly it was the same fishing pier that my father used to take me fishing on the boats when I was a kid. It had been years since I was out here. Pulling into it brought back fond memories of my father. I got seasick on my first fishing trip.

“Yo, Vince, remember your father took us out here one time when we were like thirteen,” Tyriq said, it was like he read my mind.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you still remember where it was,” I replied.

“I didn’t forget. I got peoples out here that look out for me.”

Tip parked the car in the empty parking lot, and we all stepped out, stretching and yawning. All the fishing boats on the pier seemed to be closed down for the winter. One appeared to be still doing business.

A grey beard, pale and wrinkled old man was on the pier. He was in a heavy brown snorkel, with thick rubbery boots and smoking a cigarette.

“Chester, my dude, what’s good?” Tyriq greeted, shaking the man’s hand.

“You got the money?” Chester asked.

Tyriq handed him a thick white bulky envelope and Chester opened it and went through the hundred dollar bills quickly counting them.

“All there…?” Tyriq asked.

“Yeah, all here… we need to hurry. Low tide should be coming in a few hours. I wanna be docked here by afternoon,” Chester said.

“Let’s get it poppin’ then,” Tyriq said, moving toward the car.

We all followed. Tyriq popped the trunk and we moved the heavy carcass to the boat in the early morning cold. Tip had him by the feet while Tyriq carried him by the shoulders. I followed them onto the boat and they dropped the body onto the deck.

“Damn, this muthafucka got heavier,” Tyriq complained.

“We ready?” I heard another voice say from behind me.

There was another man on the boat with us. He was Chester’s nephew and had a grizzly beard sporting a snorkel that was similar to his uncle’s.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Tyriq said.

It was cold like ice outside and my fingers were frozen even though I was wearing gloves. I took a seat and slowly felt the boat push off the pier as we began coasting.

About an hour from shore they would dump the body. While we sailed, Tip went to work on Spoon’s corpse. He punctured Spoon’s lungs with a long thick ice-pick. The body would sink and not float. He poured acid on identifying tattoos and cut off fingertips. It was sickening to watch this process.

We sailed into the Atlantic Ocean. I peered at the sea and the sunrise. I gripped the railing trying to control motion sickness.

Before the sun was at its peek, the body was ready to be dropped. It was covered in plastic, bonded with chains, weights and rope to make it sink faster, and looked inhuman.

“Y’ all ready?” Tyriq asked.

I nodded.

Chester brought the boat to a complete stop and we were miles away from land. I couldn’t even see the shorelines anymore. The three of us picked up the body and heaved it over the railing. Spoon’s body hit the water with a thud and splash. We peered down as it sank.
What the fuck am I going to tell his kids, and Melissa?
I kept thinking
.
We just made a friend disappear forever. There would be no home going service, just a watery grave for Spoon.

“Fuck him!” Tyriq said.

“So this is what it’s come to?” I said.

“We don’t give a fuck about snitches,” Tyriq said.

Chester turned the boat around and we coasted back to the shorelines of Long Island. I stared quietly at the vast deep blue sea, thinking of Spoon. I wished myself a Happy Birthday and what a fucked up way to begin my twenty-sixth birthday.

New Year’s Eve came and Tyriq had this big shindig at one of his clubs on Merrick Blvd. I attended the New Year’s party with Shae under my arm planning to have a good time. I wasn’t going to worry about Inf, the DA or the murders.

Everybody that was everybody showed up—Tip, John-John, Red, Malik, Killer Ty, Bones, and Omega, unfortunately Soul was still on Riker’s Island facing charges.

It felt awkward seeing the entire crew partying together and knowing Spoon wasn’t around. I tried not to let it fuck with me but it did.

Melissa, his baby mother been stressing me about Spoon’s sudden disappearance. She called everyday, inquiring about his whereabouts.

“He didn’t see his kids on, Christmas. He always sees his kids on Christmas. It’s been a whole week,” she had whined.

I felt awful lying to her.

“Spoon’s good. He probably left town to take care of some business. As soon as he calls I let you know.”

“But Spoon wouldn’t leave town and not tell me. I know we weren’t together but I loved him and he trusted me. The other night he came by and left me three-hundred thousand dollars. Like he knew sump’n bad was about to happen,” she mentioned.

“Melissa, don’t worry. I’m gonna look into it. I know Spoon, he’s good. He probably needed to just get away,” I had lied again.

“Vincent, don’t lie to me. Something happened to Spoon. I can feel it. He wouldn’t leave without seeing his kids. I know…especially not around
Christmas. It’s something to do with Tyriq, right?”

“Melissa, calm down…there ain’t no need for you to get upset.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Where’s Spoon, Vincent? Where’s the father of my kids,” she had shouted.

“I promise…I’ll find out.”

“Just tell me the truth, is he alive?” she asked frantically.

“Melissa….”

“Vincent, you’re his friend, the godfather of our kids. He had much love for you. Please, just tell me the truth. Is he still alive?” she asked, persistent to know the truth.

I couldn’t tell her that Spoon was murdered by my hands and dumped into the sea. She was crying over the phone when she was talking. My heart cried with her. I couldn’t incriminate myself. Spoon used tell me—you kill a man and you never speak on it again. I was doing just that.

“Vincent, if I don’t hear from Spoon within the week, I’m going to the police,” she had threatened.

“Melissa, look, you ain’t gotta involve them.”