Shut Up & Listen - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Lonnie/Black
Monday , February 10
4:43 pm
"Aye... daddy what's good witchu?"
"I'm taking care of business right now. What's going on witchu Black?"I join my father on the loveseat watching him work.
"I was just saying to myself... I think you should put another man on the job tonight?" I asked rubbing the tip of my nose.
"Whatchu rambling 'bout nah son?" He asks not taking his attention away from counting his money.
"I'm just thinking that you never put me on no job like this? Why start now? You know.. what if I-"
"You got it Black. You gotta get out there eventually. Now I been babying you for too long, cuz you my boy. But I'm putting you out there."
"But last time-" he put his money down on the coffee table and cocked his head over at me.
"Last time my ass. When the fuck have you ever been on the front fucking line?" He chuckles watching my face.
"You know.. the boy.." I spoke clear and kept eye contact. I wasn't given any background about the job I have to do tonight, and no word means I'm killing someone and my pops don't want me to have any information on it just in case I get caught. I know how the shit goes.
"What boy?"
"The Arab boy? The one yal caught doi-"
"Ohh the young man you froze up on. Yeah...yeah... that shit don't really count tho Black. You didn't finish the job." He says to me with his mouth turned upside down shaking his head. "Yeah boy... that don't count."
"But I still saw that whole situation play out daddy... his blood was on my face.... my hands and shit. I might as well been the one who killed him. It stays on my mind constantly pop."
"Aye....you need to get on out my face with that shit now. Whining and shit about something that happened eons ago."
"It still feels like yesterday to me pop! I can't shake it..." I shake my head trying to get through to my father. "This stupid shit got mutha fuckas hating me in all type of cities daddy. And I ain't even do the shit. I got a target on my head."
"Let the shit go Lonnie... it's in the damn past"
Shaking my head I say, "I can't do that. I have a conscience. I have a soul. I got morals pop!"
"You 'on think I got a damn conscience?!" His eyes grew big. He's getting mad. "I got a damn conscience boy. I got a damn soul too..."
"Yeah but I'm not like you! I'm not like all these other niggas! I can't just turn my conscience off and pretend like the shit never happened... you wasn't there pop... I'm not a killer." I always have to reassure myself of this truth. Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me making me believe I'm the one who pulled the trigger. I don't think I did.
"Boy ain't you got no sense? Don't nobody forget that shit? Why you think a nigga don't ever sleep? Them ghosts come to haunt you at night..." he puts his attention back on the money he was counting before I came into the room. "Night terrors ain't shit to play with." He mumbles the last part, shaking his head.
"So why you want me to experience the same shit Daddy? I never wanted to do that shit. I ain't no killer." I'm just speaking my mind, but I know that to my father it seems like I'm pouting.
"Black... but you are a killer." He turns his head to face me while he rests his arms on his thighs.
"I'm not" I rebutted getting defensive.
"You are"
I'm not naïve. I know people die from the shit I sell. It's like one day a nigga is a regular customer then he drops of the face of the earth. I know the nigga didn't just quit smoking, but I never really considered these deaths to be blood on my hands.
I mug him and get ready to get up. I'm done with the conversation. He's basically letting me know that it's too late for me to cry wolf. It's too late for me to back out without hurting anyone. If I didn't have a guilty conscience before, I definitely do now. I have to get out. I stand up from the couch and head to the threshold of the room. But his next words stop me and I turn back around facing him.
"Black!" My father sighed in disappointment. "If you can't even handle the shit you should've never gotten involved in the first damn place!" He has his hand on his hip now, facing me with a look of disbelief.
I can't help but feel my blood boil. But as usual, I stay cool. I put my fist up to my mouth to keep from being any more disrespectful than I already have.
About an hour later, I ended up at Cobe's house, instinctively I guess. It was only meant to be a stroll around the block, but when my my mind goes, my body follows. I don't generally like to walk, but I didn't have my car keys on me when I left the house. I could've gone back in to grab them, but that would mean being in the same room as my father again and I can't fuck with him right now.
Anyway, I remember Cobe told me he was gonna be packing up to move today. I guess I could help him out, keep my mind off of what I have to do tonight.
I walk up the stairs and knock on the door and when it opens, I'm surprised to be face-to-face with guess who. I let out an irritated breath and turn around to walk back down the stairs. Once I reach the bottom, I hear Cobe ask who's at the door. I look back to see Cobe looking down at me from the concrete porch.
"I thought you might need some help moving-"
"He already got help tho nigga. We 'on need you ove' here Black." Fuck! I would've been better off staying at the house listening to my own father call me a damn murderer.. Shit, maybe he was on to something.
"Aint nobody here for ya ghetto ass anyway Mo!" I'm already in a bad mood, now Cobe is just standing there letting this dog ass nigga disrespect me. I look to his direction and he's still just standing there.
If Cobe don't want me around I'm not finna fight for his attention. This stupid ass bitch can have his ass. I turn to walk away then I hear..
"Yeah take you Black ass on! Bitch ass.." He mumbled the last part but he made sure it was loud enough for me to hear it.
"Hell nah.." I say shaking my head. I walk up the stairs cursing and threatening Mo but as I approach the door where Mo and Cobe are standing, more niggas start pouring out the house. Yo Really?!
I furrow my brows and cock my head to Cobe who is finally looking my way. I raise my eyebrows at him.
" Yo, what the fuck?" I walk up towering over him, but the closer I get to Cobe, the closer these niggas get to me. I aint soft, and I aint no bitch, but 9 niggas against one aint a fight, that's a fucking slaughter. I know I didn't tell anyone I was coming over here, but that don't keep me from feeling like I got set up.
Crazy thing about Mo and his niggas is that they're all blood. So if I killed his brother, I killed their brother. I keep my eyes on Cobe, pleading with my eyes for him to call the niggas off, but I can see in his eyes that he's scared. He isn't into the gang shit and he never will be, he was raised different from us. I guess I can't blame him.
Time feels like it's moving slow but I know i've only been here for less than 60 seconds. The shit happened so fast. I move my hand to my front pants pocket to retrieve my Blade but I wasn't fast enough because as soon as my arm left my side, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I stood there frozen in pain, eyes locked onto Cobe's.
I turn my head around swiftly while grinding my back teeth to soothe the pain. I see that Mo's niggas are circled around me. I manage to turn around despite the pain I'm feeling. I see the nigga who stabbed me. I look down and notice he still has the knife gripped tightly in his hand.
I have mine out now and I'm ready for war. But as quick as I raised my knife to his face, a nigga to the left of me punched me in the side even quicker. Contributing to the pain from the knife wound, the blow causes me to double over and Mo, who is behind me now, pushes me to the concrete.
That small incision to the boys' face was all I got in before I found myself curled up at their feet being kicked, punched and spat on. I kept trying to get up but every time I was knocked back down. That is until my last attempt at emerging from the concrete. Mo told them to let me get up, but as I stood, I was faced with the barrel of a gun, behind it, a sneering Mohammed.
"Yeah... I let you get away before nigga, but not this time." He said, his voice suddenly raspier than it was when I first arrived. He cocked his gun, "You thought yo dirty ass was gonna walk around here like a free fuckin' man foreva?" he spat on the concrete and narrowed his eyes at me.
His eyes are full of hate, anger and sadness. I never break eye contact with him because he can't know how scared I am. I'm not scared for myself, I've been shot plenty of times before and survived. And I'm for sure not scared of Mo bitch ass. What I'm scared of is Cobe seeing me get shot. I know he's never seen anything like this before and it's gonna scar him for life. I feel like shit that I let this happen at his front doorstep.
I notice behind him that a truck is pulling up to the house. All Mo's niggas turn to see who it is catching Mo's attention. He turns his head towards the street and I take the opportunity to stab him in the abdomen. His reaction to the sudden intrusion causes his finger to lay heavy on the trigger and he shoots me in the shoulder. The bullet goes all the way through my flesh impaling whoever was standing behind me.