Get Some (13 page)

“Who? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Tony knows. Ask him. He been bragging to anybody who'll listen, talkin' 'bout he got big bank tonight.”

Jimmy pushed past Pearl and peeked from the door. Tony was laughing, sloshing drinks into rows of shot glasses. Both fists clutched two expensive bottles.

Jimmy looked confused. He clicked back his gun and shoved it into his waist. He reached down and pulled Trudy up. “Look, I don't know what's up, but don't try to leave.” Jimmy put his gun in the back of his waist. “You better stay put. I'm not done with you yet.”

Trudy wanted to spit in his face.

Jimmy left the bathroom and went back inside the club. He told Percy to watch the bathroom door.

Trudy ducked inside the men's stall and pulled across the latch. She was so scared she almost peed in her panties. She watched Pearl from the stall's tiny crack.

Pearl hissed a sharp whisper when Trudy came out. “Girl, didn't I tell you not to tangle with him? That crazy fool don't need a reason to murder. That mean shit just runs in his blood.”

Pearl narrowed her eyes as she peeked out the door. Jimmy and Tony were starting to yell. “Look, girl. I found it upstairs.” Pearl handed her a wrinkled piece of paper. “I knew I'd find something if I kept snooping around.”

“What is this?” Trudy said, scanning the sheet. “Looks like a receipt to a rest home in Barstow.”

“Look at the name at the bottom,” Pearl triumphantly said.

In tiny print at the bottom of the receipt was the small name “Miss Geraldine Dee.”

“You mean Miss Dee's up there? She's been alive all this time!” Trudy could hardly believe it.

“That's just what it means, according to this. That no-good dog lied to us all.” Pearl looked out the bathroom door once again. Jimmy was talking even louder this time. Another man knocked down an older man's drink. Some women were screaming for shots. “You best get the hell outta here, chile. I smell a riot up in this spot tonight. Better use the side door in the back.”

Trudy nervously walked toward the dressing room door when Percy left the bathroom door to pat some man down. Charles raced up to her elbow. He handed Trudy her purse.

“What happened in there? I was scared to come in.” Charles meekly dug both his hands in his pockets.

“Um,” Trudy said, rummaging around the junky room. Finally she found what she wanted. She took a hairy mass from out of a bag and shook the brown curly wig out. “Where's the money?” she asked Charles, watching him in the mirror. She shoved all her braids up under the wooly-haired cap and slipped on some dark tinted glasses.

“I got some of it on me,” Charles said, opening his jacket, revealing the blue vinyl pouch.

Trudy quickly yanked Charles's jacket shut. “Are you crazy? Keep that thing closed. That fool almost killed me a minute ago! And what do you mean ‘some of it'? You don't have it all? Charles, where the hell is the rest?” Trudy stopped peeking out from the dressing room hole, staring Charles in the face.

“I couldn't let Ray Ray see I had all that cash. I hid the rest.”

“Hid what?” Shirley said, bursting through the small room. She surprised Trudy and Charles. They stood totally stiff, like kids caught making out in the closet. Shirley grinned wide, popping her gum. “Ummmmm! Whatchu all doing hiding in here, huh?”

Trudy impulsively grabbed Charles's hand.

“You something else, girl. Ain't no shame in yo' game. Don't matter to you if he's taken or not. You want some, you get some, you treacherous skank.” Shirley rolled her eyes up and down Trudy's body. She popped her gum loud in her face. “I ought to tell your ol' lady myself,” she told Charles. Shirley grinned at the wig sitting on Trudy's head. “Oh, hello! Are we role-playing tonight? You trying to be Cleopatra Jones in this bee-yatch?”

Shirley reached over and tried to snatch the wig off. But Trudy caught her hand and slapped it away. She was shaken and angry about what happened with Jimmy. She reached in her purse and pulled out the gun.

“Touch me again and I'll blast your jacked-up face,” Trudy said.

Shirley was stunned. Her mouth dropped completely open. She backed to the corner of the room.

Charles was stunned too. He didn't know Trudy had a gun. When she said “come on” this time, he did what she said.

Trudy and Charles pushed through the tight crowd of people in the club. Shirley watched them out of the dressing room hole. “I'ma get you for that, bitch. Don't think I won't.” She blew a giant pink bubble with her gum.

“Walk slow but keep moving. Try and stay cool. We gotta get out of here fast!” Trudy's brown eyes slid across the dense, smoky club. It was packed with folks watching the loud, angry fight. “You go out front. I'll meet you in back.” Trudy didn't see Jimmy. But Percy was there. He was obviously searching the room for her now. But Percy was looking for Trudy's long braided head; he didn't recognize her in dark lenses and brown curls. Trudy snuck out the back. Charles drifted out front. He trotted quickly toward his car.

Charles saw Trudy ease out the back door of Dee's. But she didn't rush over to Charles's car first. Instead, she raced over to a huge glossy black SUV and carefully sliced all four tires. Charles took another big swig from his flask, letting the warm liquor enter his skin.

Trudy raced toward Charles and jumped in his car. She gushed out a sigh of relief. Charles stroked her hair, touching the curls on the wig, which glistened in Dee's warm neon glow. Charles eased his brandy-stained mouth over hers but Trudy pushed Charles's face back.

“Uh-uh! Let's go! We gotta leave quick.” Trudy breathed deep and exhaled out of the window. Homeboy was tripping, she thought to herself. She looked at Charles hard out of the corner of her eye. He was too scared to come in the bathroom to help her and she'd almost been shot in the face. Trudy cracked the window. She needed to breathe some cool air. Charles was testing her nerves.

“Where's the rest of the money?” Trudy urgently asked.

Charles's eyes shifted down the street. “It's at home. It'll be safe there.”

“You left it at home? Where did you put it? How do you know it won't get stolen?”

“It won't. It's hid real good.” Charles took out the blue vinyl pouch of money. “You want to have part of it now?” He could lie about what was left in the envelope now by saying the rest was at home.

“No, Charles, let's go. We can't do this here. We'll divvy it up at Vernita's.” Trudy strapped on her seat belt.

Charles strapped his too. He decided not to say he'd given some of the money away. He was feeling euphoric. He'd paid Tony back. He was holding an envelope with some serious money and there was plenty more waiting at home. For the first time in a long time he felt like a man. He wasn't about to spoil his good mood by being honest. He tried to peck Trudy's cheek but she pushed him away.

“Let's go,” Trudy said hastily.

That's okay,
Charles thought. He drained the rest from his flask. He could definitely wait. He turned the ignition. He clicked the radio on and switched the headlights. He thought about the paint can with the money and smiled. He put his hand on the gearshift and adjusted his mirror. Trudy had the sweetest little worried look on her face. Like a child trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. But suddenly her face changed to horror.

Trudy screamed but before she could finish Charles heard the gunshots. Three loud, angry blasts. Trudy slowly sank into Charles's lap. Blood leaked all over her dress.

Flo stood at the car window. Her face was enraged. Her chest heaved up and back down again. The warm gun dangled limply from her wrist.

W
hen people heard those shots they started running outside.

Trudy thought she'd been shot when she finally eased back up. She thought she'd see Jimmy standing next to the car. But Jimmy wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere around. She lifted her head slowly to look.

Pearl was out first. “Somebody call the police. Hurry!”

People began to get in their cars and pull away.

Ray Ray looked around wildly. “What happened?” he asked.

“Get out the club, man. Police'll be here any minute.” Sonny was about to go. Even Big Percy hurried away.

Ray Ray wasn't leaving. He scanned the club's room. Chairs were turned over, bottles lay dripping. A large crowd of people tried to squeeze through Dee's door, like booze coming down through a funnel. But Ray Ray had business. He walked quickly upstairs. He wasn't about to leave the club without getting his money. He eased the door open to Tony's small closet office. Tony was stuffing something in a brown leather bag.

“Hey, Ray Ray, whatchu doing up here, man? Ain't you heard? A man down there's been shot. We got to clear out before the police gets here, boy!”

Ray Ray didn't move.

“Didn't you hear? Whatchu waitin' on, son?” Tony didn't even bother looking up. He hastily shoved some papers in a briefcase.

“Naw, man, I didn't hear nothin'. I got business up here. I ain't leaving without you giving me my money.” Ray Ray's eyes locked on Tony. Tony's locked back on his.

“I done tol' you already, the man's got it. I passed it on to him. He got it now, got mines too. You saw him in here collecting all them bets. You give it to me and I give it to him, remember? I know you saw him. He came right over to where you and Charles was.” Tony was talking real fast. He wanted to get his cash and get out.

“I didn't see shit,” Ray Ray said flatly.

“Listen, man, Jimmy came in and took the bet money. We got to leave before the law turns the place out!” Tony stood up and tried to walk around Ray Ray's frame. But Ray Ray was blocking his path.

“I ain't leaving without my ends, man.” Ray Ray took out the gun in his underarm holster.

“Come on, man,” Tony said, laughing nervously now. “Don't do nothing rash. I'ma get you your money. You know I'm good. Don't I always come through? Didn't I treat you like a son? Wasn't I the one who hired your black ass when all of them other folks wouldn't have ya? Now put that gun down. Think about what you're doing. You don't want to go back to the pen.”

Ray Ray walked closer. Tony felt his breath on him now. Ray Ray pressed the gun into his stomach. A ripple shook his gut like a rock tossed in a pond.

Under the small hanging light, Tony's worried face creased. His eyes darted around the room like a brown, scurrying rodent, hoping for some kind of opening.

“I'ma go in my pocket. Look, man, don't shoot.” Tony slowly pulled a handful of hundreds from his pocket. “All right. See. Looka here. I got five hundred dollars. Take it. It's yours. You can have it all, son. Now come on, man, put the gun down!”

Ray Ray looked down at the sad wad of cash.

“You must be sick. Where's the rest of my ends, nigga? I played Jones to win. I ain't leaving without my eight grand.” Ray Ray shoved the gun farther into Tony's fat stomach. Tony's whole face was dripping sweat now.

“Now, hold up, man, hold up! I done tol' you already!” Tony's eyes looked crazed. Sirens were blaring. He had to get out. “I ain't got it, I said! The man came and took all the cash. I know you musta saw him. I put it on Jones. Just like you said.”

Ray Ray didn't say a thing. He raised the gun higher. Putting it right next to Tony's bald head, he pulled the safety way back until it snapped.

“All right, man! Okay!” Tony pulled a small briefcase from below the desk but didn't open it. He saw Jimmy coming up behind Ray Ray real quiet. “Let me get you your shit, before you act a stone fool.” Tony unsnapped the case. It was stuffed full with money. “This is what I get hiring a damn convict.” Tony slowly stepped back. “Here's yo' shit, man.” Tony stepped farther back. “Go ahead, take it.”

But when Ray Ray leaned forward to reach for the case, Jimmy grabbed Ray Ray's throat and snatched back the gun, pointing it back at Ray Ray's face.

“Be cool, man. Don't move,” Jimmy whispered. “All I want to know is where is my stash. They said brothers jacked my man this morning at the bank. Said one was a tall, thin, pretty-boy type.” Jimmy grinned in Ray Ray's scarred, scowling face. “Now that sho' ain't you.” Jimmy continued to smile. “Naw, cuz you as butter-black ugly as they come.”

Jimmy rolled the gun over Ray Ray's large, gravelly scar. He stood in Ray Ray's face and continued to whisper. “But my man said the other one had a nasty burn mark peeking out under his scarf.” Jimmy took out a knife and ripped open Ray Ray's skin. Ray Ray winced. Jerking back, he clenched his back teeth. Dark blood rolled from his keloid. Ray Ray stood there in pain as the sticky blood seeped over his neck.

Tony walked up to Ray Ray and spit in his face. “Yeah, it was him. Dumb stupid convict. Came in today with a whole gang of money. I bet he and Lil Steve been plotting this shit all week. Lil Steve probably snatched your cut, man.”

Jimmy socked Ray Ray's gut and he doubled over. “Where's my shit, huh? Where the fuck is it at?”

Tony closed the brown briefcase and put it under his coat. This wasn't his fight. He wasn't in it. He scurried down the stairs while the sirens grew fierce.

“Put both hands around your neck,” Jimmy barked loud to Ray Ray. “Now, don't turn around or I'll blow your damn head.”

“Open up,” they heard the cops yell from downstairs. They were banging the wrought-iron door with batons, but they couldn't get the door to bust open.

Jimmy backed out of the room, aiming his pistol at Ray Ray. Jimmy didn't want to be caught at the club with the cops. He backed all the way out of the room and ran out the back door.

Tony didn't want the cops to see he had a gambling room upstairs, so he locked the gated door tight.

But the officers were prepared. Two of them held a battering ram. They hooked the ram onto the large steel door. With both of them holding the thick metal pole, they knocked the iron door off the hinge.

The police charged up the stairs with all their guns drawn. Ray Ray's eyes darted around the small closet he was in. He could hear their feet on the stairs. He couldn't go back to jail. He couldn't get caught.

“Please, Lord,” Ray Ray said, rubbing the cross at his neck, “don't put me in that black hole again.” Even though he was two floors up, Ray Ray broke a small window over a water heater with his gun. He said one last prayer and then jumped. His body was almost completely halfway out when someone grabbed his leg and dragged him all the way back.

“I got one,” a police officer proudly announced.

Ray Ray was caught in a black uniformed knot.

The cops cuffed him quickly. His hands dangled in front. His silver cross glittered against his gray pinstripe suit. His dark suit was splattered with blood.

“That's him!” Tony said, walking back inside the room. He wasn't carrying the old briefcase anymore. He looked straight at Ray Ray. “Yeah that's the one who done it. I hired him to work. Didn't know he was a felon. He shot one of my best paying customers too.”

“You a lie! You know I didn't shoot nobody!” Ray Ray said. He struggled to get free, but the officers held him firm. They dragged him downstairs and out the front door toward the blinking squad cars at the curb.

Ray Ray tried to resist, twisting and contorting his body. But once they got him on the sidewalk they beat Ray Ray down. Their batons smacked his arms, his rib cage and his legs. They beat him so hard on the back of his head, blood flowed from out of his nose. Jamming Ray Ray's dazed and doubled-over body into the backseat, they slammed the door hard and took off.

Ray Ray lay unconscious on the black vinyl seat while the car screeched down the dark street. His silver cross medallion dangled next to his face. It was a thick chain with a fat cross of Jesus. The officers didn't bother to take it. He was cuffed and inside the backseat metal cage. Ray Ray wasn't going nowhere but jail.

Ray Ray gradually regained consciousness. He opened his eyes. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. The car was racing downtown. Ray Ray had trouble breathing. His ears were ringing loud and his nose was all caked with blood and he had to pry his face from the seat where Jimmy had opened his wound.

He looked up and saw the two officers' heads. They were cracking jokes and laughing and running red lights. They never once looked back at him.

Now, officers aren't supposed to handcuff in the front, but sometimes they get lazy. They let their guard down. Ray Ray knew one thing. He had two strikes already. He wasn't about to go back to the pen.

Ray Ray raised his cuffed fists and used the tips of his fingers to work the medallion he was wearing. The flat silver cross had four slender tips. He put one of the tips inside the narrow keyhole. He started fiddling the cross around and around with his fingers until he heard the gentle snap of the lock.

Ray Ray kept his head down. His eyes searched for an escape. But the backseat was as tight as a cage. He didn't want the officers to know he was awake or notice his free, uncuffed hands. He felt around the seat but came up with nothing. He checked the side windows but they didn't roll down. He looked under the floor mats and that's when he saw it. There was a dim light coming from the front seat.

There was an opening! A space wide enough for a shoe. Ray Ray dropped his whole head all the way down and saw the officer's boot on the ground. He stretched, reaching his hand as far as it would go. He grabbed hold of the foot and wouldn't let go.

The driver slammed the brakes hard but the car skidded toward the sidewalk. It jumped the curb and kept flying down the street, slamming into a dense concrete bus bench. The car dangled halfway on the curb and the road. The driver was knocked out and slumped over the wheel. The horn tortured the normally silent street. A Mitsubishi swerved and braked hard but couldn't stop. It smashed the police car with such a strong force it knocked the driver's door open. Ray Ray kicked his door window until he shattered the glass. He leaped out and grabbed the slumped officer's gun. He started running down the block. The other officer was conscious but dazed. He grabbed his gun and shot at Ray Ray but Ray Ray shot back. He clipped the officer in the shoulder.

Ray Ray raced down the street like a wild, rabid dog, hopping a fence and scaling two walls and then ducking into a beat-up apartment. He crept down into the apartment's garage and saw an old blue Ford pickup parked against the garage wall. Ray Ray popped the hood and examined the engine. He looked around the garage for a tool and spotted a mangled coat hanger on the floor. He wrapped his bandana around the end of the hanger. He touched the solenoid and the battery cable. The Ford engine roared to life. Ray Ray busted the window and leaped inside the truck. He sped down side streets until he reached the 110. Keeping his eyes on his rearviews, he opened the ashtray. He found half a butt and popped in the lighter, but Ray Ray didn't light up until he was all the way past Gage. Ray Ray knew one thing; he had two strikes against him and had just shot a cop. He'd best get out of the state. But as he drove, something gnawed him. It clawed at his gut until he couldn't shake that sick feeling away anymore. It was against his best judgment. He knew it was wrong. But Ray Ray made a U-turn and went all the way back.