Game On (17 page)

25

XAVIER

 

T
he butterflies in Xavier's stomach felt like they were trying to fly up through his throat and right out of his mouth. His nerves tightened inside his chest. Every car door that opened and closed brought palpitations to his heart. Xavier was in front of a bedroom window of a shabby colonial on the grimiest side of town. Dude couldn't believe he had the stones to pull something like this off. It would be either the kindest thing he'd ever done or the dumbest. But Flip was family, and aside from that, the boy had saved Xavier's hide once. Xavier had to do this. Xavier had stayed up half the night trying to convince himself that this was, in fact, the right thing to do.

Linus Flip had just stepped out of the room after giving Xavier specific intel on what to look out for. The spot only sold designer drugs, nothing you would consider hard-core, but still highly illegal and could get a fool—if caught—sentenced to a healthy double-digit basketball score. Xavier's job was simple: identify and yell out anything suspicious. That went for five-o and stickup kids alike.

Of course this was going against everything he stood for, but he conveniently twisted the logic to make him comfortable in the house. While saving his boy, Xavier hoped to get the kind of info from the workers that would make a compelling essay that would win him the prize money. He would be able to use it at Michigan State. He could pool this whole experience into some slammin' street-lit novels with hard-hitting messages of morality. But he had to win the contest in order to make this dream come true.

Can I win this contest, though?
he asked himself, as he sat on a stool looking out at a decaying street in a dying neighborhood. If he did win, would he have the chops to produce the kind of stories that could make him a phat living? Or was his big, long teacher Mr. Chase pulling his chain about him having that kind of talent?

Xavier wasn't able to give it another thought because some dude named Dark walked up in the piece.

He said to Xavier, “What up doe, pimpin'?”

Dark was actually light skinned. Not too tall. The boy must've weighed all of a hundred sixty pounds soaking wet, but his most distinguishing characteristic was his ears. Those things looked like smaller versions of coffee saucers.

Xavier had known the boy from the old neighborhood. He'd moved from there about the same time Xavier and his family did. Dark was a quiet guy. Mostly kept to himself. Never caused trouble. Just a straight-up good dude, which puzzled Xavier. What was a boy like him doing in this house selling poison? It was worth getting to the bottom of. Xavier decided that Dark would be his first subject.

Xavier said, “You got it, homeboy. What's good?”

“Another day another dollar for me.” He showed off an ivory smile. “Xavier, if you don't mind me saying, dude, you got too much street cred to be in the cut serving as lookout. What's up with you?”

So much thought had gone into the “why” aspect of him taking the gig that he'd plumb forgotten about the red flags that somebody like him, with his impeccable street pedigree, taking such a lowly position would raise.

He simply told the truth. “Just a favor for a friend.”

Dark eased up and smiled. “I can dig it.” He looked out a window as darkness settled over the city. “I know I'm only seventeen and I haven't been around for a long time, but I remember when this neighborhood looked better than this. Joint used to have green grass and trees. Now all you see is burned-out fools and run-down, vacant houses.”

“Yeah. It definitely ain't gonna be winning any awards on beauty no time soon.”

Xavier peeked at a car slowly rolling down the street. Even though the headlights were on, the vehicle was shrouded in darkness. Both boys breathed a sigh of relief as they watched the ride until it rolled out of sight.

Xavier looked at Dark. “Homeboy, what's your story? I mean, back then you didn't seem like the type that would take this route.”

Dark hunched his shoulders. “Not much to tell. It's the same old cliché: cracked-out mother. Dad jetted. Little brother and sister I have to look out for. Fast food jobs ain't gonna get it. Gotta be at home in the morning to get the two crumb snatchers ready for school.”

“Sounds like you have to put yourself on the back burner, homeboy.”

A sad look fell across his face. “This was supposed to be my last year of high school, but I doubt if I finish. The shorties need me, so I have to play big brother-daddy.”

Xavier's heart went out to him. Ne Ne's behind might've been selfish, but at least she didn't have a crack addiction. Other than that, their stories were so similar. If there was one person who could feel homeboy's pain, it was Xavier.

Xavier wanted to know, “Dark, when will you turn eighteen?”

Dark eyed Xavier suspiciously. “A couple weeks. Why?”

“What if I can promise you a job with thirteen bucks an hour starting pay?”

“I'd say, have you been getting high off Linus Flip's supply?”

“Serious, dude. I can get you hooked up.”

Dark looked cynical. “No disrespect, Xavier, but why are you trying to give me a job that it looks like you need?”

“Don't worry about me, homie. My game is tight. Plus I ain't tryin' to work in a car plant, you feel me?” Xavier peered out of the window. Nothing. The coast was clear.

“If you ain't full of it, I don't know how to repay you.”

Xavier smiled and looked around. “You can repay me by taking good care of your family and staying the hell out of places like this.”

For the next two hours Xavier and Dark kicked around. Unbeknownst to Dark, he'd supplied Xavier with a ton of valuable information. So far, this thing had all the makings of an explosive essay.

Xavier's first day in the spot was officially in the books and had been pretty pleasant. Dark seemed to be a down-to-earth brotha that life was trying hard to turn into a statistic. And Xavier wasn't about to let that happen.

It was one down, but there were two more days left in the house. Linus hadn't slipped up and shown his hand. He was giving himself two more days to find the answer, after that Flip would be on his own.

26

XAVIER

 

X
avier was able to get away from the crib with relative ease today. Noah hadn't been there to ask his usual million questions. He, Roxanne, and Alfonso had gone to church early this morning and planned to stay there until the end of the afternoon service. Before they left, Roxanne had been on some old crazy stuff, all up in Xavier's business, asking Noah why his oldest wasn't going to church and making super-slick comments about Xavier wouldn't have a hole in the shoulder if he had Jesus in his life. And just to be slick, Xavier ignored his father's pleading eyes and said to Roxanne, “Jesus was in Jesus's life and He still came up with holes in His body, so what's your point?”

You would've thought that the roof had caved in. Roxanne's ol' hypocritical behind did everything except bear a cross and douse the boy with holy oil. Xavier thought that his old man would lose his mind, though. He was almost late for church explaining to Xavier about his blasphemous statement. But it was all in fun. He didn't hate anyone, but exceptions were made for Roxanne Hudson.

He'd worry about her later. He had the strangest feeling that he was being tailed by a car on his way over to the spot. It looked like the same yellow cab he'd seen when he was chilling with Dakota at the bus stop not too long ago. And again the cabbie had made sure to keep a safe distance so as not to be identified. Xavier quickly filed it away as paranoia. Getting blasted in the shoulder would tend to have your mind spinning all different directions. But he needed to be focused.

Xavier had plans to be in the spot for a few hours today. Linus Flip had just stepped away to run an errand, leaving two other people in the house with Xavier: a cat that went by the street name Hustle, and an Xbox-playing fiend who rocked the handle Gameboy. The dude Dark had the day off.

Gameboy was a trip. He'd waited until Linus had left, then plugged in the system. He and the guy Hustle were down in the living room getting it in on a cheesy-looking flat screen, playing NBA 2K15. Judging by the sound being turned up so high, the two idiots were acting like they weren't sitting in a hotspot.

Xavier was sitting at his post in front of the bedroom window when he heard somebody pound on the door. It was funny because he hadn't remembered seeing anybody approach from the sidewalk. The streetlights could've been a factor. Every other one had been knocked out, giving darkness a slight edge over light. There weren't any alleys, so the visitor couldn't have come up from behind. Something wasn't feeling right to Xavier.

He got up and went downstairs where the bumping continued to grow louder. Xavier stood in front of the television until the two got the point and turned it down. That's when they heard somebody knocking.

He said to the pair, “I guess you boys can't hear the door.”

Hustle was a pretty big dude. He was nineteen, with a solid build and a dark complexion. He had attitude and definitely walked around like he was Mr. Tough Guy.

“I got this,” he said in a gruff tone, getting up and strolling over to the door like he was the head rooster in charge.

Xavier was amazed at the stones on this guy when Hustle yanked the door open and snatched in by the collar some weasel-looking dude wearing a crummy ski coat.

“Why you bumpin' on the door so damn hard fo'?” he screamed at the guy.

Ski Coat was shaking and badly trembling. “Y'all couldn't hear the door.”

Hustle ordered Gameboy to take care of Ski Coat.

Xavier just shook his head. He had seen far too many hard dudes before to know how to spot a poser. You know the ones. Overcompensation for the lack of guts.

“I'm up in this piece to make some money, stacked my paper to the ceiling,” Hustle said to no one in particular.

Xavier was about to walk back upstairs.

“Hey, new dude,” he said to Xavier. He brought his left hand up so Xavier could have a close study of the tiny diamonds of his pinky ring. “Stick around long enough, everybody'll get one.”

Another tough guy,
Xavier thought. Homeboy was gonna make for an interesting case study. Xavier offered a bogus smile and continued on his way. Before he could get back upstairs to sit down good, the dude Gameboy stumbled in behind him.

“It's Xavier, right?” said Gameboy. Homeboy was probably eighteen, average height, and wore some baggy clothes that were sagging off his body.

Xavier looked at him. “Yeah. Yours is Gameboy, right?”

“That's me,” he said like he was proud of the handle. “When I heard that Linus was putting this little team together, I'ma keep it real with you, I wasn't feeling a new guy. Me and that ninja Hustle been working together for some time now.”

“I can dig that. I mean, this might be one of the most important jobs here. So I can feel your anxiety, fam. Gotta have somebody you can trust watchin' yo' back, you feel me?”

“What side of town you from, my ninja?”

“Westside.”

Gameboy shook his head like he was already up on it. “Yeah, I can tell you one of those Westside ninjas.”

“How so?”

“You ninjas got a different attitude.”

Xavier figured this was the perfect time to see what made homeboy tick, since they were getting all chummy-chummy. He cut right into him. “How long have you been on the grind?”

He grabbed his chin between thumb and index. “Maybe about two years, give or take.”

The answer messed Xavier up. He thought Gameboy would at least say all his teenage life. Xavier watched a dark-colored SUV ride by. “Why?”

Gameboy smiled. “Nobody ever asked me that before.”

“So what you're tryna say is that you don't have any idea.”

“I grew up around it. Never saw anything else. Never saw my dad going to work and setting a good example. I thought perfect families like that existed only on TV sitcoms. This is the way it's supposed to be, ain't it?”

Xavier couldn't do anything but shake his head. This dude really didn't have a clue as to why he was putting his life on the line. Xavier could only sum this dude up as being a product of his environment. Unlike Dark, who because of a cracked-out mother was slangin' the stuff to afford the basic necessities for his family.

“Ay, you two geniuses,” Hustle said from the door. “Y'all can hold each other's hands and sing Kumbaya later. Gameboy, we got work to finish before Linus Flip comes back talkin' junk.”

Xavier had gotten all he needed from Gameboy. The dude Hustle wouldn't be too hard to figure out. The boy was a walking cliché who only saw life one way, and that was getting paid the quick way. The spot would soon be history. Tomorrow would be Xavier's last day of having to come to this death-dealing fleabag. Xavier had done some snooping around, but his findings yielded absolutely nothing. Tomorrow was his last day. Linus was up to something and tomorrow would be the last day to figure it out.

 

The next day Xavier was back at it, but this time, he was armed with a plan. Since he couldn't figure it out, he'd just make it go away. Xavier was prepared to drop another dime, but this time, on his boy. It would be for Flip's own good. Whatever was causing homeboy's money trouble would have to wait, because this death-dealing drug pit wasn't the answer. Xavier had collected all the data he needed for his essay from the workers. Now was the time to put the brakes on Linus's moneymaking drug spot. He moved over to the window with good intention and used his cell to call the police. Xavier told them everything he knew about the drugs in the crib. Told them about the number of people there and supplied the address and hung up. But he had to be cunning. Xavier knew he couldn't just leave. It would be too obvious—him walking out only to have the cops run in. Hustle wasn't stupid. He would be wise and know that there was some dirt in the game. The whole thing would scream set up. Xavier couldn't have that. All it would take was for this fool to try and piece things together and run with his conspiracy theories back to Flip. Xavier didn't need any beef with his boy. So this thing would have to go down perfect.

It was dark out—seven o'clock in the evening. Fifteen minutes had passed since he'd made the call. The foot traffic was the heaviest he'd ever seen it. Despite this, the two idiots downstairs managed to squeeze in time for NBA 2K15. The sound was up so loud that it seemed like the two boys were right in the same room with him. They sure couldn't hear him if he had to ring the alarm.

Xavier had started to question his actions when the police pulled up out front. The next thing he knew, the entire street came to life. Red and blue lights from police cruisers lit up the area, washing over tattered and torn houses. They seemed to come out of nowhere.

Even though he knew what was up, it felt like the bottom dropped out of Xavier's stomach as he watched bodies in uniform converge on the house. He had to jet out of there. But before he got ghost, for the affect, he screamed downstairs, but the two idiots had the volume high on the television. Xavier was headed to the escape route when he heard the battering ram hit the door. Downstairs, he couldn't hear anything else accept Hustle and Gameboy screaming like girls while the cops barked orders.

He was playing it too close. There was a window in the back room; an abandoned car sat underneath. Xavier had raised the window and carefully placed his butt on the ledge, his feet dangling in the night air. Xavier hadn't seriously taken into account how dangerous this thing could get. As he sat, it dawned on him how stupid he was for putting himself in this perilous predicament.

“Don't do it!” said an officer from somewhere inside the room.

Without hesitation Xavier pushed off and was airborne. Wind was the only sound he heard on the way down. The hood of a crumbling '91 Ford Thunderbird took the brunt of the impact as Xavier buckled and rolled off the car onto the cement. Even though he got up gimpy and grabbing his right knee, Xavier bolted. Dude barely had enough time to get over a few fences and stagger off into the darkness.