Hood (8 page)

I’m doin grown man thangs…

I’m trying to stay outta trouble,

I’m doin grown man thangs…

But it’s a day-to-day struggle…

RATS SQUEAKED AND
gnawed the walls in the back room that Hood and Moo shared in Fat Daddy’s shop, but neither noticed or cared, because for the first time ever they were a part of a real family. Dreko, Sackie, and Lil Jay were the siblings Hood and Moo never had, and whether he liked it or not, Fat Daddy was looked up to in a fatherly way.

But a father to those boys Fat Daddy was not. He purposely steeled his heart away from all that paternal shit because caring for a couple of street kids could be more than dangerous. He gave a damn about them being “just kids” too. Them lil fuckers paid rent and bought their own food, and Fat Daddy made it a habit to show them his cold side as often as possible. Just to let them know he wasn’t fuckin with them on that level. He wasn’t no parent to them and he was no role model either, and he wasn’t trying to be. But he did make Hood and Moo go back to school, though. Not because he gave a fuck about educating them or expanding their young minds, but because he knew it would keep the heat off his neck that way.

“You ain’t gone have nobody from the city coming up in here fuckin with me, baby. Uh-uh. No way. Both of y’all gotta at least show up at the school house door. What you do when you get up in that mug is up to you. But when Egypt leaves outta here in the mornings, both of y’all gone be stepping out right along with her.”

Hood was all for that. He jumped at the chance to be around chocolate Egypt as much as possible. There was a bond between them, something secret and special, and he would have followed her anywhere, even without Fat Daddy telling him to. They’d gone from shy smiles, furtive looks, and holding hands, to sharing their first tongue-kiss weeks earlier. And when Hood held her close in the tiny kitchen behind the shop and told her that she was his only girl, he meant that shit from his heart.

So while Moo started classes in kindergarten, Hood went to junior high school every day and came back home and chilled with Egypt and ruled his sector every afternoon. He hung out at Baller’s Paradise learning from Xan and his crew every night, so at first all he did was spit mental lyrics all day to keep from dozing off in class. He was too exhausted to concentrate on the lessons they gave him until Egypt busted hard on him about not doing his homework.

“What’s up with that, Lamont?” she asked him with her round eyes flashing and her long earrings jiggling. They had just gotten their report cards and even though Hood was still considered a new student, his report card was full of F’s solely from nonparticipation. “You ain’t ashamed of all them damn F’s on your report card? What? You plan on hustling drugs all your life?”

“Hell yeah. Hustling and spittin my song until me and Reem cut us an album. Why not?”

“’Cause that’s some stupid shit, that’s why. Ain’t no future in drug dealing, Lamont. Unless you count Rikers or getting locked up someplace upstate.” They walked along the trashed streets passing gutted-out buildings, salvage yards, and a couple of stray, mangy dogs. “You always talking about how you might lose the words out your head. Don’t that scare you enough to make you have dreams about other stuff? Stuff besides what you got right here. You know, places you wanna see outside of dirty-ass Brooklyn?”

Hood shrugged as he walked beside her. He was oblivious to the grime and didn’t even notice it. All he could see was beauty. Egypt’s beauty, and the beauty of what he felt for her deep in his soul. She was tall and pretty and kept herself looking real neat and fresh at all times. She liked nice shit, and since her father was the neighborhood fence, she had plenty of it. They passed a corner game of cee-low and two winos sleeping in a stripped down car balanced on four milk crates. Egypt grabbed one of Moo’s hands while Hood grabbed the other. They walked with him between them and Moo grinned up at them as they swung his arms back and forth.

Hood spoke again, hoping he was saying something Egypt would want to hear. “I’ma prolly check out Harlem one day. I got a cousin up there I wouldn’t mind getting with.”

“Harlem?” Egypt smirked over Moo’s head. “That’s as far as you wanna go?” She peered at him over her glasses and gave him a crazy look like he needed to reconsider his response. His little dun duns on the corner worked hard to keep his head on swole, but Lamont knew Egypt was always gonna give it to him straight and keep it real.

“Man, Harlem is far. You gotta take the number 3 train to the number 4. That’ll take you over an hour.”

Egypt cut her eyes at him.

Hood felt a rock growing in his pants. He ignored the look of disapproval on her face and eyeballed her long legs and high, bouncy ass.

“Well that’s some stupid-sounding shit too, Lamont. What about Las Vegas? Or California? Or even Africa or the Bahamas? Brooklyn ain’t everything, I want you to know. You need to open your mind up a lot wider and let some real-world shit in.”

He gazed around at the borough sights. “LA is cool for the music industry and all that. But what’s wrong with Brooklyn? Ain’t shit happening in them other spots that ain’t going down even better right here. I’m with Brooklyn, girl. You with it too.”

“Whatever. When I grow up my daddy’s sending me away to medical school. I’ma be a doctor and get with a man who wants something out of life. Somebody who wanna do more than just grind on the corner trading goods with crackheads and hoes. A paid nigga with a real profession, ya know? Somebody with some education about himself.”

Hood let go of Moo and grabbed Egypt’s arm, his voice a deadly whisper.

“Your daddy ain’t sending you nowhere. You ain’t
never
gone have nobody else but
me.
You got that girl? You mine, E. Mine forever. Believe that shit girl.”

Egypt pulled away from him laughing sarcastically, even though she liked it. “You always talking that ‘I’m yours’ shit, Lamont. How you gone tell me who I’ma be with or where I can’t go? Boy, you just don’t even know. My daddy got money and he’s gonna make sure I get the word ‘doctor’ in front of my name. You must gonna graduate from college and marry me if you want me to be yours forever, boy. That must be what you’re gonna do.”

Hood had kissed her full lips and laughed too, but just those few admonishing words were enough to make him start looking for beats and writing down his lyrics in a notebook so he could eventually get up enough tracks for a mixtape. Reem was already working on his and a lot of cats got deals that way. He even considered taking his schoolwork seriously too. He actually started paying attention in class and turning in his assignments. Since he was naturally smart, he caught up fast, making up for all the time he had missed while him and Moo were living on the streets.

Egypt saw the effort he was putting forth and she liked it. She liked him. Truly, on both their parts it was love. Yeah, they were young but already they knew. And like a lot of kids in the hood their lives moved at a faster pace than most. They snuck around and found a way to get what they wanted. And despite their tender age, what they wanted was each other.

Hood made love to Egypt for the first time on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. They had the day off from school for some dead president’s birthday. Fat Daddy had taken a three-day trip to Vegas, and Uncle Chop had been left to watch the shop and the kids. Moo had complained about a sore throat and had sucked a Sucrets before falling asleep on the back room sofa. Hood and Egypt were upstairs in Fat Daddy’s plush living room watching a movie on his wide-screened plasma. Hood brushed the bare skin of her arm as he kissed her and held her close. Egypt shuddered pressing her taut young body against him.

It was chilly in the room and the pittering sound of windswept water hitting the windows was seductive. Egypt kissed him hard, urging him on. For a fleeting moment she thought of her father, knowing he would kill her if he could see her now. But what she was doing felt more than good. It felt right.

She lifted her shirt so Hood could see her young breasts, nipples hard and pointed. Hood gasped and finished undressing her. And when they were naked he covered her cool skin with kisses as their whispers of love filled the air.

They rocked the couch, exploring and experimenting. Hood knew more, so he took the lead. He touched her in places no one had ever been, and in return she held him and stroked him with a love he’d been yearning for. They were tender with each other. Patient and easy. But they were careful too. They used protection, laughing as they tore holes in two condoms before they got it right.

What they shared was intense and deep. Their emotions were as real as any under the sun. When it was over they clung to each other. Weakened physically, but each much stronger emotionally. Hood knew that he had found his salvation. The one solid thing in his life that would never leave him and never change. And Egypt knew the claims Lamont had made were without a doubt true and correct: She was his. He was hers. And that’s all there was to it.

Life was falling into place for Hood and the streets were treating him grand. While Xan still had his doubts about Hood’s right hand man, Dreko was making the best out of his second-string status and was showing up on point for Hood in every possible way. He squashed niggas down at the slightest sign of beef, and wherever Hood rolled Dreko was always strapped and on guard, never far behind him.

The pair became tighter than tight. Their bond was forged through trials and trust as they earned their stripes on the corners. They were known to roll up as one and compliment each other’s fearless style of street management. Their youthful faces belied their inherent brutality when crossed. Even older and more experienced hustlers were awed by their heart and their loyalty, and started calling their brutal roll ups the one-two punch. Their motto became D.W.I.T. or “Do Whatever It Takes,” and they lived by that shit on their hustle every day. Game recognized game, and Hood and Dreko parlayed their individual strengths into the ultimate enforcement team. Hood was typically the planner and Dreko was the pain inflicter, but both would dead a nigga in an instant behind some doe or some yay. Their business creed was simply nonnegotiable, and on count day they never feared Xan’s wrath because their cash was always legit.

Over time Hood and Dreko made a deadly name for themselves on the streets of Central Brooklyn, and from weed to crack to heroin, loyal drug users flocked to their corner to hand over the doe. On the few occasions where some old head tried to muscle in on them and try their metal, Hood and Dreko made heating a nigga look real easy. Xan was never worried about his goods when Hood’s street team re-upped on a run. Some of the cats he’d been running with for years spoke of the two with pride in their voices and a big measure of respect for the lil young niggas too.

There was a big difference between the two young boys, though, and it was obvious to almost everyone. Dreko was reckless and wild. What you saw with him was exactly what was there. Grime. But Hood could get real quiet sometimes and go inside of himself to think and rhyme. On the grind he was a straight shooter who lived by the street code, but he was guided by his own set of principles too.

All in all, shit seemed like it was lining up for Hood, except for one thing.

Monroe.

“Take this,” he told his little brother one Saturday night. The school nurse had called Fat Daddy every single day that week telling him to come and pick up Moo. The boy stayed sick. It seemed like he always had a fever and he was always coughing.

“It’s nasty,” Moo complained swallowing the cherry-flavored cough syrup. “I don’t like it, Lamont.”

Hood pressed his ear to his brother’s chest, listening to wet rattling noises as the boy wheezed. He made him take another teaspoon and then covered him up and wrapped a blanket tightly around his thin shoulders.

By the next morning Moo was even worse. Fat Daddy, Felton, Lil Jay, and a bunch of other old heads had gone to Atlantic City to the casinos, and once again old Uncle Chop was the only one home. Moo was real bad off. He coughed so hard he peed on the sagging green couch and his whole body shook. He had a fever and his blanket was soaked through with sweat. Hood was mad worried but he tried not to show it.

“I’m sick, right, Lamont?” Moo wheezed. Dreko had just swung by to see what was happening and Hood told him to stay in the room and watch Moo while he went to call Fat Daddy on his cell phone. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I know I’m sick,” Moo declared. His eyes were runny and he didn’t even complain when Uncle Chop came in the back room and gave him some liquid Tylenol and some more cough syrup. “I must be sick ’cause even my fingernails is hurting me, Mont,” he said with his eyes wide. “That’s what Moo know.”

Hood lay down on the damp couch with his brother and put his arm around him. He felt Moo struggling to suck air in, then struggle just as hard to push it out again. By later on that day Moo’s skin was half-gray and he was out of his mind as he desperately tried to breathe. Egypt came downstairs and stood in the doorway watching them. When Lamont looked up and nodded her over, she crossed the room and pressed her lips to Moo’s hot, shrunken face.

“Moo,” she said softly. “You okay, little man?”