Karma's a Bitch (10 page)

“What the fuck are ya’ll looking at!!” she screamed and then ran full speed out of the break room to make her call in private. The giggles ensued soon thereafter.

Jenny made her way to the X-ray room, which was fortunately unoccupied at the time. She sat down on a chair next to the door and dialed Tony’s number again. Again, she got the voicemail. Instead of leaving a message as she usually did, she closed her phone and put her head in her hands. Her body shook as she started to cry softly.

A few minutes later she lifted her head and wiped her eyes clean. Her demeanor changed, and then almost immediately Jenny began to laugh hysterically. When she stopped laughing she was still smiling.

“What am I crying about? Anthony Jackson, you think we’re through, but you just don’t know. Our love has just begun.”

Tony continued stepping around the grocery store, his scully low over his eyes, picking up a few things here and there. He went to the back of the store and ordered a large sub with ham, cheese, tomato, mayonnaise and ranch dressing – his favorite. When it was finished Tony grabbed the sandwich, not so much as thanking the man who had prepared it. The arab deli clerk, who seemed as if he were looking forward to a tip for his tip jar, cursed Tony under his breath and snatched his pack of Marlboros off the counter so that he could go to the back and take a smoke. Tony headed straight for the front door, all of his other items in hand.

“Ay, budd-y,” the arab looking man behind the counter looked over and said in a heavy accent as he saw Tony within 10 steps of leaving the store completely without having paid for anything. “Where you going? You paid?” Tony kept stepping, not paying him any mind.

“Ay, budd-y. You didn’t pay for that!” the arab man yelled loudly grabbing his bat from behind the counter and quickly making his way around the counter and towards Tony with it. In what seemed like a millisecond, Tony pulled his ski mask down completely over his face, and adjusted his eyes to look through the two peep holes as he pulled Quanisha’s half-loaded gun out of his waist and pointed it at the clerk.

“See, if you would have just shut the fuck up! Now I want all your money,” Tony demanded. He took the door wedge out from underneath the open door and allowed the glass door to slam shut.

“Hey, hey look budd-y, no problems okay? Go ahead and take it, the stuff you got. I don’t want any problems,” the store clerk began pleading.

“Too late. Go over there and empty out your drawer,” Tony instructed as he nudged the clerk back towards the counter. He leaned his head over to look at the lotto sign. The Powerball jackpot was $92 million. “And give me like 50 lotto tickets. Do it random, quick pick. And hurry the fuck up you greedy sand nigga! Damn, couldn’t even let me go for a damn sandwich.”

The arab clerk dropped the bat and reached into his pocket for his wallet, never fully going behind the counter. “There is not much in the drawer. I give you what I have here, 10, 20, 40…” the clerk said counting off his bills.

Tony took three swift and long steps towards the clerk and smacked him hard across the face with Quanisha’s gun. “I said open the fucking drawer! What do you think I’m stupid?”

The Arab clerk listened this time, hustling back over to the register and pressing a button to release the drawer. Before he grabbed the money, he tried once more to reason with Tony. “Mister, please I don’t have any insurance! My wife is getting the insurance tomorrow morning! Please don’t—”

“Man I ain’t trynna hear all that,” Tony said stepping forward slightly towards the man he now knew as the store owner. He held the lightweight Glock directly against the Arab man’s sweating temple with his right hand, and grabbed the money out of the drawer with his left. He stuffed the money in his jacket pocket, one stack at a time. It looked as if there was more than $500 in the drawer.
What a dumb ass
, he thought of the store owner for keeping so much cash in a store that was located in one of the worst hoods in the city. Tony watched the door as the arab man pressed the lotto machine over and over again.

“Aiight, that’s enough,” Tony told him, getting nervous about the lotto tickets taking too much time.

When the store owner handed him the tickets, Tony told him to turn around and snatched his still-open wallet from him. He then hit the store owner on the area between his shoulder blade and neck with the gun, instantly causing the man to fall to the ground. Tony jogged a little towards the entrance, pulled his mask up and eased his way out of the store. As he left he could hear the store owner weakly trying to call for the deli clerk to come and help him, but the deli guy was still in the back alley taking his smoke break. Tony made a sharp left after leaving, choosing to take a detour to his car so that no one would see him coming from the direction of the store.

* * *

“Damn man, where you get this haze from?” Scoop asked Tony as they sat in his car smoking the last of a perfectly rolled blunt.

“This bul down Southwest off Kingsessing. He always got the good shit, long as I been knowin’ ‘im,” Tony replied, leaning his head back into the head rest.

“This that fire dawg, I need to get some of this shit tonight for me and Quita. How much for that bag?”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty?? For that little bag of shit? You kiddin’ me right?” Scoop laughed.

“Nawl man, that’s his best stuff. I asked for it in particular,” Tony replied, taking the roach from Scoop and straining to take a few more puffs before putting it out in the ash tray.

“Where in the hell did you get $20 to spend on one bag of weed man?” Scoop eyed Tony curiously. “From that little nut broad you messin’ with?”

“Don’t worry about it. All you need to know is I got it, yah mean?”

Scoop was quiet for a few moments. He knew his best friend had been up to something that day from his demeanor, he just didn’t know what. “So that chick was trippin’ on you huh?”

“Hell yea, I’m starting to think she really crazy man. She left 15 fucking messages on my voicemail today. Talking about how she will see me soon. That I do need her and she’ll show me why soon enough. I’m like, get the fuck outta here. She better chill with all that fatal attraction shit.”

“Yea and you better be careful. Don’t take that shit lightly. I know you remember that crazy bitch Sheila I used to fuck with. Her ass started trippin’ the fuck out, and I was only seeing her for like four days! Showing up at my girl house and shit.”

“Yea, well I ain’t worrying about that little bitch Jenny like that, she know better,” Tony said reaching forward to change the CD on the new three disc changer Jenny had bought for his raggedy car. A Jadakiss track,
Knock Yourself Out
, started blasting through the car.

“Yo, take me down Kingsessing, I wanna see the bul and get a couple bags of that shit,” Scoop said over the music.

“You wanna go down there, this time of night?” Tony asked skeptically. “Yea I guess. Yea let’s go, but I gotta be home by 2am so Nish don’t be trippin’.”

Tony put the car in gear and started out towards Kingsessing, which wasn’t very far. When he turned up on the narrow block where he always met his connect, Lou, he turned off his lights and eased up, looking. Lou spotted him, recognizing the car and made his way over to the driver’s side. Tony rolled down the window half way.

“What you need?” Lou asked. Scoop had already told Tony he wanted three bags.

“Give me three, that good stuff again,” Tony said. His eyes were nearly slitted closed, indicating that he was still high off what he smoked earlier.

“You need three more dawg? Damn you ballin’. Hol’ up a second, I gotta get it.”

Lou disappeared into a house for what seemed like ages. More time went on and he still hadn’t emerged.

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Tony complained, looking at his watch, which now read 2:11am, more than 15 minutes after they had arrived. He was started to become suspicious. A car came up behind them on the one-way block, so Tony had to manuever out of the main street and to the right side, one wheel on the curb. The driver of the car behind him slowly passed, looking into their car, and then pulled up into a space a little farther up the block.

“What the fuck they lookin’ at?” Scoop asked, annoyed, but had a tugging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Lou came to the passenger’s side door and put his hand up to get Tony’s attention. He put one finger up as if to tell him “one more minute” then disappeared back into the house before Tony had a chance to fully roll his window back down. Tony leaned over Scoop and looked curiously back in the direction where Lou had just vanished. He figured maybe he didn’t have enough to cover their order.

“Damn, he still ain’t got that shit? What the—” Tony and Scoop heard the click of a gun cocking.

“Empty your pockets,” a harsh voice commanded from behind Tony’s head. Tony slowly leaned back in his seat and turned his head, his line of vision greeting the barrel of a gun. “You heard me nigga.”

“Fuck!” Tony clenched his teeth and yelled, banging his fist on the steering wheel. Scoop just looked over at the window with his mouth wide open. He was about to shit in his pants because he had about $680 cash on him that he was supposed to give his girlfriend for shopping that weekend. He finally sat back in his seat and sighed. 

“Did ya’ll motherfuckers hear? Know what, get the fuck out the car,” the short, ugly, stocky light skinned brother said, lifting the door handle on the car just as his taller, leaner boy came around to Scoop’s side of the car on the sidewalk holding a pistol close by his side which was aimed down at the ground and commanded Scoop to get out also, which he did without much protest. ‘Short and Stocky’ opened Tony’s door and snatched him out of the driver’s seat. Holding the gun into Tony’s neck, he searched all of Tony’s pockets with his other hand. He produced a stack of bills from Tony’s right pocket and stuffed it in his jacket pocket without even flinching, as if he already knew what he was going to find. He found the lotto tickets in Tony’s back pocket.

Tony instantly began protesting. “Man what the fuck? This is some bullshit. Come on now, how you gonna just take all my—” 

“Fuck youuu. Stop whining you lil bitch,” ‘Short and Stocky’ said and bitch-smacked Tony with his free hand, causing Tony’s face to flush red with anger. ‘Short and Stocky’ just laughed and started backing away towards his car with his gun still pointed towards Tony’s head. His partner in crime finished taking every last red cent from Scoop on the sidewalk, and then pushed Scoop down onto the car. He chuckled as he started to back away with his friend. It all happened so fast, in a matter of a few seconds Tony and Scoop had been robbed blind. 

“Ay ya’ll have a good night aiight?” ‘Shorty and Stocky’ taunted, chuckling as he reached his car and put the gun in his waist. 

“Yea whatever, shut your motherfucking midget ass up. You wouldn’t be doing shit without that gun in ya hand.”

As a child, Tony just could never learn to hold his tongue. It had cost him many an ass whooping courtesy his grandmother. But what was about to happen due to this latest infraction was going to be far worse than a little bruise on his leg from a leather belt. 

Scoop slowly looked over at Tony as if he was seeing a ghost. He twisted his face at Tony as if to say, “Are you crazy??” 

‘Short and Stocky’ was halfway sitting down in his driver’s seat when he heard the last of Tony’s comment and froze. He slowly stood back up and turned around. “What did you say?” 

Tony hesitated, but then recovered. He was still refusing to back down. “You heard me,” he said in a slightly lower voice. 

“Oh you wanna get gully now huh. Okay, okay.” ‘Short and Stocky’ muscle-walked back towards Tony and pulled the gun back out mid stroll. His boy came back out of the car and followed. Tony looked over at Scoop who was still looking stunned and stuck in place as if he were about to witness a murder right before his eyes. Again Tony hesitated, quickly wondering in his mind if he should make a run for it, but figuring it wouldn’t matter at that point. He finally made a quick decision in his mind to run and take his chances, but ‘Short and Stocky’ had already descended on him. He struck Tony’s right temple with the gun so hard that Tony fell back-first against the car and slid down in excruciating pain, holding onto his head.