For the Strength of You (4 page)

Taking one last look at himself, he was ready to go to the pool hall and get his party on. The pool hall was more than just a place to shoot some 8-balls. It doubled as a small club, located right outside of Selma, and played Crunk music and catered to big ballers. So of course, Anshon had to be in the place.

Silently approving his appearance, he reached for his car keys. As he placed them in his pocket, his cell phone rang.

“Yeah,” he said, holding the phone to his ear and walking out the door.

“Yo, Shon, what up, dawg?” It was Teck.

“Nothin'. 'Bout to roll through the pool hall. Yo, I'm sorry about earlier, with my sister. The memory of her getting shot still fucks with her.”

“It's all good. I can understand,” Teck said. “Why don't you come by and pick us up? Or will the twins be cock-blockin'?”

“Nah, where y'all at?” Anshon asked.

“Doughnut's,” Teck replied.

“Y'all still fuckin' with his nasty and crazy ass.” Anshon laughed, getting into his car and starting the engine. “I hear his baby mama is a straight freak. He started runnin' trains on her, and this bitch is turned the fuck out. My sister told me that she be hanging out in the pool hall, sucking niggas' dicks and shit.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Teck laughed.

“Word.” Anshon cracked up. “A'ight, yo, I'm 'bout to come through. Be outside.”

Before Anshon pulled out of his yard, he called his sister.

“Hey, big sis, just calling to check on you.”

“I'm good.” Tammy smiled. “Just typing.”

“On what?”

“Why?”

“Just tell me,” Anshon pressed.

“Well, since you wanna beg.” She giggled. “I'm writing a book.”

Anshon fell out laughing.

“See, that's why I ain't wanna tell yo' dumb ass!” Tammy's feelings were hurt. “Y'all some hatin' asses.”

“Whooooa, slow down, big sis.”

“No, you slow the fuck down.” Tammy had a serious attitude. “This ain't a joke to me.”

“I'm sorry,” Anshon said. “I'm stupid sometimes. You know that. What's your book called?”

“Forget it. Don't try and get on my good side now.”

“Look.” Anshon sighed. “For real–for real, I'm really sorry. I wanna know the name of it.”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I swear I won't.”

“
Hood Legend
. That's the title.”

“Oh, word? That's tight as hell. For real. Keep it up, big sis. You know it's all good.”

“Thanks, Anshon.”

“Love ya, girl.” He hung up. Before he pulled off, he slid in Lil Jon's CD and turned the volume all the way up.

Anshon didn't live as far as everybody thought. No one but Tammy knew the exact spot of his crib, and he wanted to keep it that way. It only took him five minutes to get to Doughnut's.

Teck was outside on Doughnut's porch, smoking a cigarette. “Come on!” he yelled as Anshon pulled up. A second later, Wallo and Doughnut stepped out of the house.

Oh, hell no
, Anshon thought,
I never said that Doughnut's nasty ass could ride with me. Fuck that. Plus, I know this nigga pockets ain't clean. He always got some shit on him.

“Teck,” Anshon yelled and motioned for him to come around to the driver's window. Teck walked around.

“What the fuck? You said you and Wallo, not Doughnut. I don't want him in my ride. His ass is crazy, and he always got weed and shit on him. And you know ever since the pool hall started poppin', Selma's finest be stoppin' niggas all the time.”

“Your point?” Teck frowned.

“My point is that his fat ass ain't riding in here.”

“Come on, Shon. It's all good. He been going through some hard times. He and his baby moms broke up. She got another dude that she be flauntin' right in Doughnut's face. He need to hang out with the boys for a li'l while. I'll make sure he's clean.”

Anshon stared at Teck and then he gave him a pound to let him know it was all good. “Speak to his ass first.” Anshon said, shaking his head in disbelief that he was even in agreement.

Teck walked back onto Doughnut's porch, where Wallo and Doughnut were standing.

“Yo,” Teck said, low enough so Anshon couldn't hear him. “This nigga actin' a little retarded. Ignore his ass. Y'all ready to roll?”

“Hell yeah.”

They all piled in Anshon's car and took off.

“Yo, turn that shit up, Shon!” Teck said, reaching for the sound system.

“Nigga, is ya crazy?” Anshon laughed. “You don't never touch the radio in a black man's ride.” The entire car cracked up.

As Anshon turned into the pool hall's parking lot, Lexie, Doughnut's baby's mother, watched him ride past her with Doughnut, Wallo, and Teck in the car. She loved to torture Doughnut, and being that she was his daughter's mom, that always made him accessible. Doughnut loved Lexie, but he made the mistake of bringing the freak out of her, causing her to become a gold-diggin' nymphomaniac.

Lexie stepped out of a tinted midnight black Acura 3.5 RL, with red Daisy Duke leather shorts on, a tailor-fitted red leather jacket that fell mid-calf, red leather go-go boots, a red leather corset underneath the jacket, and box braids, braided with red hair that hung down her back. On her arm was Von, a ballin' nigga from Raleigh who claimed to have half of ATL locked down.

Anshon circled the parking lot and ended up parking next to Von's Acura, where Lexie stood with Von, arm in arm, preparing to make an entrance into the club.

Doughnut felt a lump rising in his throat. As he passed by Lexie, he didn't say anything, but he made sure to bump Von as he passed him. Then he turned around, stared Von up and down, and gave him a look that dared him to say something.

The pool hall was packed, and everybody who was somebody from Raleigh, Smithfield, and Selma were in the house. Anshon bought a Colt 45 at the bar as the twins headed for the pool tables. The music was thumpin' with Biggie's “Kick in the Door.”

Lexie was parading around on Von's arm, and Doughnut was watching them as they continued to pass by him. He sipped his beer and leaned against the bar.

Anshon sat with his back to the bar, nodded his head to the beat, and was rapping along with the song as Von came up to the bar with Lexie. Anshon glanced at Lexie, and she winked her eye at him as she and Von ordered two bottles of beer. Anshon twisted his lips, but he had to admit that underneath all that red, she had it going on.

Von looked at Anshon. “Word is,” he said, sipping on his drink, “that you the man I need to be speaking to.”

“Is that so?” Anshon smirked.

“That's what the streets is saying,” Von assured him. “Maybe one of these days I can come through and see about you?”

“Maybe,” Anshon said, noticing a li'l shawtie walking past him. She was petite, with a smooth caramel complexion and full, soft-looking lips that were coated with clear MAC lip-gloss. Her waist was small, with hips that flared out over her thick thighs.

Instantly, Anshon's dick was hard and he totally tuned Von out. It couldn't be denied that shawtie was boom-bangin'. She had on tight jeans with Baby Phat in block letters, written in pink, going straight across her ass. Not since Anshon was fuckin' with Constance had he seen such a perfect ass. Without thinking, Anshon grabbed his dick.

Destiny Child's “Souljah” started playing, and everybody in the place started moving to the beat. Anshon licked his lips as shawtie started throwing her ass and dancing in the spot where she was standing. Anshon picked up his beer and started walking toward the dance floor, leaving Doughnut standing next to Lexie and Von.

“You know, if I was your man,” Anshon said, pressing his dick into shawtie's ass, “I wouldn't let you out of the house looking like this.”

She threw her ass deeper into his crotch. Anshon felt like his hard-on was a ticking time bomb.

“Looking like what?” she asked, still pressing her ass into his shaft.

“Like a dime.”

“Oh, no you didn't insult me.” She turned around toward him, her mouth twisted.

“Goddamn,” he said. “Untwist your mouth.” Anshon took both of his hands and pushed the microbraids that fell over her shoulders behind her ears, revealing her name-plated, gold-hoop earrings. “Damn, you look good.”

“For your information . . .” She smirked, looking him up and down. “I'm not a dime. I'm a twenty spot, so get yo' shit untwisted. And furthermore, you don't know me well enough to be puttin' yo' dick against my ass.”

“Not yet. I'm Anshon. Tell me your name, shawtie.”

“Well, it ain't shawtie.”

Anshon laughed, “Yo, why you trippin'?”

“A'ight. I'ma stop buggin'. My name is Monica.”

“How you doin', Monica? Fine, I'm sure.”

“Boy, please.”

Anshon laughed. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yeah. I want a Red Bull.”

When she said that, it reminded him of Doughnut being left at the bar with Lexie and her new man.

Where did that nigga go?
Anshon thought while he ordered Monica's drink.

As soon as Monica took her drink into her hand, gunshots started to pop. Anshon grabbed Monica and took cover. Everybody in the club hit the floor.

“Everybody put they ma'fuckin' hands up!” When Anshon looked up, he saw three men, dressed in all black with ski masks on and tommy guns in their hands.

Oh, shit,
Anshon thought.
These niggas ain't playin'. They really holdin' us up!

Just then, he heard a hissing sound. When he turned in the direction of the sound, he saw Wallo crouched down in the corner.

“Everybody stand up and shut up!” the men yelled, pointing their guns.

Everyone stood up.

“Run them fuckin' pockets!” one of the other masked men yelled toward Anshon. From the sound of his voice, Anshon knew it was Tom-Tom.

Damn, I shoulda killed this nigga
, he thought.

Tom-Tom looked Anshon in the face and leaned forward while running his pockets. “You should've killed me, nigga.”

“Don't worry,” Anshon said, tight-lipped. “I will.”

“What the fuck is going on?” one of the masked men yelled. “Get that nigga cash and be out!”

Tom-Tom grabbed Anshon's cash, which was only eight hundred dollars, and moved on. Everybody in the club had to empty their pockets. The men collected money, jewelry, and even some guns.

As one of them walked by, Anshon got a good look at his shape, and he knew it was Doughnut.
What the fuck?

He looked toward Wallo. “That's Doughnut,” he mouthed.

Wallo didn't answer him; instead, he nodded toward the masked men, who were walking backwards out the door. Doughnut was the last man to walk out.

As Doughnut walked past Lexie, he grabbed her around the neck and pulled her with him. She started screaming. Von stood there paralyzed.

As if things had been moving in slow motion, suddenly all hell broke loose and the people started stampeding out of the club.

Anshon held Monica close, picked her up, and ran with her. When he got outside, he noticed Teck and Wallo running in front of him.

“Doughnut!” Anshon yelled in a panic. “That was that fat motherfucker.”

Anshon unlocked and snatched the door open to the car, throwing Monica inside. Teck and Wallo jumped in the back seat. As they went to take off out of the parking lot, they saw Doughnut standing in front of them, holding Lexie by the neck with the gun pointed toward her head, the ski mask no longer covering his face.

“I can't believe that you did this to me,” Doughnut cried to Lexie. “As much as I loved you. We got a baby together. What did I do? Tell me!” Doughnut positioned his finger on the trigger.

“Oh, shit!” Wallo yelled out the window, “Doughnut, don't do it!”

Anshon was trying his best to get away, but everybody was trying to come out of the parking lot at one time, creating massive chaos. Anshon could hear and smell his back tires burning rubber. Then suddenly his car shot forward, causing him to slam on the brakes. Everybody fell forward, and the car behind him almost ran into the back of him.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Anshon could still see Doughnut holding the gun to Lexie's head. He seemed to be in a blind rage. Police sirens were blaring as they surrounded the crowd.

One of them spotted Doughnut and yelled through the bullhorn, “Take cover!”

Doughnut pressed the barrel deeper into the side of Lexie's head. “Say good night.” He slowly eased the trigger back. As he did that, shots rang out from everywhere.

Anshon, Monica, and the twins ducked down in the car. It was at least fifteen minutes before they looked back up again, and when they did, Doughnut and Lexie were both dead.

No one said a word on the ride back home; not even Monica, who'd just realized that she was riding home with a stranger.

After dropping Monica off at home, Anshon stopped by Constance's, but she wouldn't let him in.

“You not gonna let me in?” he asked her in disbelief.

“No, I'm not. How long has it been since I've seen you? And what time is it? Eight o'clock in the morning,” she said, answering her own question. “Go back to that bitch you dropped off this morning and fuck her.”

“How the fuck do you know who I dropped off?” Anshon reached his hand through the door and collared Constance. “Bitch, are you trying to set me up? You know just a little too much for a bitch who don't never leave from around here.”

“Get the fuck off me!” she yelled, pushing his hand down.

“Don't get killed fuckin' wit' the wrong nigga,” Anshon said, letting go of her. “Dumb bitch.”

She slammed the door in his face, and he hopped back into his ride and took off.

Anshon was pissed. Who the hell did Constance think she was? He started to go back and kick in her door, but he changed his mind and instead made a few phone calls and put a hit on Tom-Tom's life.

Anshon called Tammy at least five or six times, but she didn't answer. In his heart, he felt like something was wrong. He drove down Lizzie Street and pulled up in front of Teck and Wallo's house. He saw Fe-Fe leaving with Teck and a suitcase in her hand.

“Where y'all goin'?” Anshon yelled out the window.

“This nigga done begged me to go to a program. I really ain't the one, but shit, we'll see.” Fe-Fe smiled at Anshon. “You know what I'm sayin'.”

“It's all good, Fe-Fe.” Anshon smiled, giving her a thumbs up. “Just see what happens.”

“I'm taking care of that,” Teck said, winking at Anshon.

Anshon didn't know what to say. For a minute, he wondered if Teck was doing Fe-Fe.

Anshon redialed Tammy on his cell phone, and still there was no answer. He revved his engine to race over there, and then he thought about the last time Tammy pulled a stunt and scared him half to death. He had to laugh. He picked up the phone and called Monica.

“Wassup, shawtie?”

“You.” She yawned.

“Let me come scoop you.”

“You just dropped me off.” She laughed.

“I know. Grab some gear. You can shower at my spot. I wanna spend some time with you.”

“Come on, boy,” she said in disbelief.

Anshon was there in less than five minutes. He beeped the horn, and Monica came outside. She was already showered and changed.

“Look at you, cutie.” Anshon kissed her on the cheek as she entered his car. Catching a quick peek of her ass, he shook his head. Just then, his phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Anshon.” It was Tammy. “I heard about what happened at the club last night. I can't believe that shit.”

“Me either.” Anshon shook his head, thinking of Doughnut. “I feel sorry for Doughnut and Lexie's little girl.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tammy said. “That's why I'ma drive to Atlanta. I need to see my kids. Thank God for Aunt Rosa helping me out with them. Anshon . . .”

“What's up, big sis?”

“I'm moving.” Tammy took a deep breath. “I need to be with my kids. These months without them have been hell. Aunt Rosa said I could stay with her. Plus, there's a hospital there with one of the best physical therapy clinics in the country. I could take physical therapy to get the strength back into my legs and be able to raise my kids again.”

Anshon felt like he wanted to cry. His sister was all he had.

“I told you I was done with the game, Anshon,” Tammy continued. “Now it's time for me to get my life back.”

“You couldn't tell me this in person?” he asked.

“No, because I didn't want to cry . . . like I am now,” she whimpered.

“Big sis, don't cry.” Anshon couldn't look at Monica because he thought that he might break out in tears.

Although Monica had only known Anshon for a night, she felt close to him. She took his free hand and placed it in her lap. He squeezed her thigh and smiled. The tears that he wasn't able to catch fell from his eyes.

“When are you leaving?” Anshon asked.

“Right now.”

“What!” Anshon screeched.

“I have to, Anshon. Please. I didn't wanna see you because I knew I would never be able to leave you.”

Anshon's heart felt like it wanted to break, but he knew that as bad as he needed Tammy, he knew that her kids needed her more. And given the shit that went down with Tom-Tom at the pool hall, Anshon really didn't want Tammy anywhere around.

“I'ma miss you, Tammy.”

“I'ma miss you too, Anshon. I need you to send my things. All I can carry are a few pieces.”

“You got that. I love you, big sis.”

* * *

Constance paced back and forth in the living room of her apartment, with her arms crossed and a mean look on her face. When she heard a motorcycle pull up, she went to the door and unlocked it. Wallo came in and didn't pull off his helmet until he closed and locked the door behind him.

“What the fuck? Anshon came here a minute ago and grabbed me by the collar. I think he knows,” Constance said in a panic.

“He don't know shit. Where's the cash and shit?”

“All over my damn living room. Don't you see it?”

He looked around and smiled. He moved toward Constance and began to rub her shoulders.

She pushed him away. “Where have you been?”

“Somethin' came up.” He gently grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“I'm so mad at you right now!” she snapped. “You be lettin' Teck talk to me any kinda way.”

“Don't worry. I've been getting on him about his mouth. I'm sorry, baby.” He unfolded her arms and placed them around his neck as he moved his arms around her waist. “I'ma make it up to you.”

“I've heard that one before.”

“You like your new car, right?”

“Yeah, and I'm worried about folks asking about my new car. I just made sergeant last week.” She smiled.

“So?” He kissed her on the neck.

“So, people are wondering how I got a Benz so soon.”

“Don't worry about that.” He ran his hands through her auburn hair. “I love you, girl.”

She kissed him. “I'm ready to leave Selma.”

“I know that, baby.” He continued to play in her hair. “Soon enough. Soon enough.”

* * *

No sooner than Fe-Fe stepped foot in the drug rehab program did she turn around and come back out. “I'ma try to do this on my own,” she said to Teck as she got back in the car. “Them niggas in there”—She shook her head—“is some real goddamn crackheads. And if that's how I look, I know I gotta kick this shit.”

Teck burst out laughing. “Come on, Fe-Fe. Let's go home. I tell you what: If I catch you gettin' high, I'ma kick yo' ass.”

“I can do it, Teck,” Fe-Fe assured him. “I just need somebody to believe in me.”

“Well, I believe in you.”

The first thing Teck made Fe-Fe do when they got back to her house was clean up. The house was just plain nasty, and it didn't make any sense.

Once she finished cleaning, he sat her down and said, “I like you a li'l bit. You seem like you could be cool. But I ain't fuckin' you until you have an AIDS test. I don't give a damn how good you look. AIDS don't have a face.”

Fe-Fe sucked her teeth but reluctantly agreed. “You gonna go on the block?” she asked, not knowing, exactly what to say to him.

“Why?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Because if you want to . . . you can sell from here. I can get the word out through the grapevine that you holding . . . and then you won't have to be all out in the open. It's just an idea, but I guess you gotta go see your girl or something.”

“The first rule of the street,” Teck said, pulling Fe-Fe on the couch next to him, “is you can never get high off your own supply.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

“It means”—He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead—“that if you fuck with my shit, we're done. And then I'ma kill you.”

“Shut up. Why you talking dumb?” Fe-Fe said. “I already told you that I ain't gonna get high no more.”

“A'ight, li'l bit, we'll see . . . and another thing: I don't have a girl.”

Fe-Fe's face lit up. She smiled and hugged him tight.

* * *

Two weeks passed, and Tom-Tom was still nowhere to be found, Tammy was in Atlanta with her aunt and her kids, Monica and Anshon were kickin' it hard, and Teck and Fe-Fe had locked down the block. Anshon was the connect, Teck cut up and distributed the weight, while Fe-Fe held the dough. Fe-Fe never asked Teck for anything extra. She took her AIDS test as promised, and most of the money that she and Teck made, she took her cut and sent it to the cousin who took care of her twin boys.

Teck and Fe-Fe's sales were coming in like clockwork. Every fiend in Selma seemed to be knocking on Fe-Fe's door, and nobody ever thought anything of it. At most, they thought that Teck was getting high with Fe-Fe, which was why he was there all the time. A few people noticed that Fe-Fe was starting to gain weight and was looking much cleaner, but her being sober was the last thing on anyone's mind.

One evening, around six o'clock, Teck told Fe-Fe he was down to his last and needed to re-up again.

“You need to chill for a minute,” she said to him. “Jealous niggas might become suspicious.”

Teck looked at Fe-Fe and thought about how good her advice had been up to now. “A'ight.” He reached under her bed, pulled out his money box, and started counting the dough they made that day. He was sitting on a crate in her bedroom when he caught Fe-Fe staring at him.

“What you looking at, girl?” He smiled.

“Nothing,” she said, leaving to go to the bathroom.

As Fe-Fe walked out of the room, Teck noticed a hole in the side of her jeans. Although he'd been enjoying her company, seeing her clothes with holes in them made him feel sorry for her.

She came back in the bedroom and sat on the mattress Indian style. Teck started staring at her. Her jet black, wavy hair was wildly hanging loose all over her shoulders. She shook it out, and his dick instantly became hard. She smiled, knowing that he wanted to fuck her, but being a man of his word, he wouldn't dare touch her until her AIDS results came back.

She smiled at him, the gleam from her front gold tooth reflecting out of her mouth. “What?”

“I ain't say nothing,” he said.

“Well, why you lookin' at me like that?”

“'Cause I'm grown.”

“Well, this my crib,” she shot back.

“Oh.” Teck laughed. “This here ain't our juke joint?”

“Nigga, you crazy!” Fe-Fe fell out laughing.

Teck enjoyed her beauty even more as she smiled. “Come on and take a ride with me,” he said.

“Where we goin'?” She frowned.

“Damn, just come on. You'll see.”

As they started driving, Fe-Fe asked him again, “Where we going?”

“Goldsboro,” he said, turning onto the highway.

“Who you know in Goldsboro? Going to re-up, huh? I see now that you don't know how to juice the game slow. To me it's like sex. Niggas wanna fuck fast and hustle fast, and neither feels good. But if you hustle slow, you get a feel of it . . . just like pussy,” Fe-Fe preached.

I betchu I'm waiting this long to fuck this hard-headed nigga and his dick is fuckin' short and skinny
, she thought to herself.

“Fe-Fe, I ain't goin' to re-up. We gonna get something to eat and get you some clothes.”

“Say what!” Fe-Fe was stunned. She turned in the seat to face him. “Don't be playing no games with me, Teck. Why you trying to make me feel good, knowing damn well you gonna meet a square and ride past me in the street this time next week? Just because I get high—well, used to get high—don't mean I don't have any feelings!”

She felt like she wanted to cry. She folded her arms under her breasts, smacked her lips, and settled back in her seat. “I don't even know why I'm trippin' wit' your young ass. You gonna be like the rest. Fuck you.”

Teck glanced over at her as she looked out the tinted window. “If you would think sometimes before you run your mouth, you might make some sense.”

She snapped her neck around. “Boy, please. I'm thirty-one years old. You only twenty-two. I know you don't like me, so you can kill this buying me clothes shit. All you want me to give you is some head anyway.”

“Let me tell yo' ass one thing!” Teck said, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the highway. “I don't want you to suck my dick!”

Cars were passing by and blowing their horns. Fe-Fe was scared as hell. “Teck, please pull over to the shoulder. We're in the middle of the highway. Somebody could run into the back of us.”

“Fuck all that!” he screamed. “You remind me so much of my mother that every time I look at you, I think of her. I want you to get clean. If I wanted you to suck my dick, then I would've stuck it down your throat the night Wallo and Doughnut were treating you like a ho and running a train on you. I want you to get clean and do what my mother was never able to do!”

“What's that?” Fe-Fe said, crying tears of joy and fright at the same time.

“Stay alive.”

Fe-Fe was crying so bad that she couldn't talk. All she could do was hug him. Nobody ever cared this much about her.