Street Pharm Page 11

  The picture: A Chinese woman hysterical in front of the shattered windows of the Laundromat.

  The caption: Chun Wah Soo in despair as her newly opened Laundromat is damaged by gunfire.

  I started to read.

  What began as a quiet Brooklyn evening was shattered when assailants in a black Toyota shot local teen Tyrone Johnson in what appeared to be a premeditated drive-by shooting.

  “As soon as he came out of the restaurant, the car came around the corner, real slow like,” said one witness, who requested not to be identified. “The shooting started, and the guy, he jumped behind them garbage cans. Then he ran into the Laundromat and that’s when they shot up the place.”

  The people in the Soo Laundromat watched in horror as the bloody Johnson fell to the floor.

  “It was terrifying,” said Marg Walker, who had been doing laundry with her eight-year-old son. “We all thought the shooters might follow him in here to finish the job. And maybe finish us, too.”

  Tyrone Johnson sustained gunshot wounds to the arm and abdomen and is in stable condition after several hours of surgery. Five other victims had to be hospitalized for cuts and trauma inflicted by the shattering glass.

  Police have not established a motive for the shooting, but neighbors speculate the shooting was drug related.

  Johnson is the son of former Brooklyn drug kingpin Orlando Johnson.

  Brooklyn City Councillor Jeffrey Benn says this shooting is only the latest act of violence in a string of drug- and gang-related incidents this year. . . .

  I tossed the paper onto the bedstand. Nobody got killed, thank God. But my name was out.

  Weird, but I was kind of relieved. No more lying, no more hiding.

  No more Alyse.

  I told myself it was for the best. If she was out of my life, I wouldn’t have to worry that Darkman would find out about her and Gavin. Now that Darkman had tried to kill me, I had no choice but to stay away from them.

  The article in the paper meant I didn’t have to tell her myself.

  I was a coward. A punk.

  The nurse came in with a fruit basket. She put it on the bedstand and gave me the card.

  “Strange time of night to be sending stuff, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  I waited until she left before reading it.

  Don’t forget Daddy’s advice.

  Get well soon.

  VISITING HOURS

  The next morning I pissed in what looked like a metal vase and choked down some breakfast slop—all of this before Mom showed up.

  “Hi, sweetie.” She kissed the top of my head. I caught a whiff of that familiar mama-smell. “Is the pain real bad?”

  “Nah.”

  “My poor son. Would you like some water?”

  “Sure.”

  She lifted the cup and gave me the straw. “Before you know it, you’ll be comfy at home. I’m’a take good care of you.”

  Uh-oh. No way I was going home when I got out of here. I had a business to run and Darkman to deal with. I couldn’t do those things with Mom around.

  She sat by the bed and started boring me with work and neighborhood stuff, like she would any other day. No questions about the shooting, about my dealing. Her strategy: Help me get well, then dog me out.

  That was the thing about mamas. No matter how bad you fucked up, no matter how much they hated what you did, they were still going to be there for you.

  I was glad. A little of Mom’s TLC would do me good.

  I managed to stay awake for an hour, but whatever drugs they gave me kept pulling me under.

  “You need to sleep, sweetie,” Mom said. “Would you like me to stay while you nap?”

  “It’s okay, Ma.”

  “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. If you need me in the meantime, call.” She kissed my cheek and left.

  * * *

  Later on, my favorite nurse came in, looking mighty salty. “There’s a real persistent young man out there who claims to be your brother, Jackson. He don’t look anything like you, and he says he don’t have ID.” Her hands went to her hips. “He’s gotten on my last nerve. I thought I’d let you choose if you want to see him. If not, we’ll have Security take him out of here.”

  I smiled. Who else but Sonny? He wouldn’t let a family-only rule get in his way. “Yeah, Jackson’s my brother. I been missing him.”

  “If you’re sure. That guy, he’s crazy.” She walked out.

  Seconds later, “Yo, my dog! How you feeling?”

  “A’ight.”

  “I was thinking I’d have to jump one of them orderlies for their uniform.”

  “Don’t make me laugh, Sonny. It hurts too much.”

  “You ain’t looking too bad. They say you lost a lot of blood, but after a few transfusions you were good to go.”

  “What?”

  “Doctor said you got four pints.”

  “Four pints!”

  “Don’t sweat it—they always test the blood to make sure it’s clean.”

  “Yeah, but . . . that’s so weird to have someone else’s blood in me. That’s fucked up.”

  “What happened to you is what’s fucked up. Everybody was scared shitless. And your mama, when she saw me, she came at me with her long-ass nails. Talk about O.D.in’, man.”

  “She scratch you up?”

  “Almost. I had to run like a mutherfucka. Anyway, 5-0’s been hanging around. What you tell them?”

  “Squat.”

  “So they don’t—” Sonny broke off, and closed the curtains around the bed, as if the old man and the daughter who was feeding him gave a rat’s ass. The guy next to me, luckily, was out walking the halls. “They don’t know about Darkman?”

  I lowered my voice too. “Nah, it’s us they wanna take down. You should’ve seen them try to guilt me into spilling my guts, making me think other people got shot. Anyway, be careful what you say around here.”

  “I hear you. By the way, that chick you introduced me to, she been here a few times.”

  “Alyse?”

  “Yeah. She mad quiet. She was asking doctors and nurses how you doing. She came earlier today, wanting to see you, but they wouldn’t let her ’cause she wasn’t family.”

  “If you see her again, tell her to go home. Tell her I’ll call her.”

  “Sho ’nuff. So, what are we gonna do about this?” He leaned over the bed and whispered, “I know a few niggas who’d get rid of Darkman for a fee.”

  “I got it covered.”

  “No offense, but you said that before, and look where you at.”

  “I know who I’m gonna hire. I’ll call him as soon as I get outta here.”

  “Gimme his number. I’ll call him today.”

  I thought about it, but my instincts told me to hold off. “Not now. It’s too soon. 5-0 will see it as revenge.”

  “Sure, but like you said, they got no proof. If you trust this nigga to do a clean job, why wait?”

  “Because . . . because I wanna be there,” I lied.

  “Then I wanna be there too. Anyone who goes after my brotha’s gotta go down hard.”

  THE BREAK

  The next day, anybody could visit, and anybody did. Like Cheddar and Bear, who said they cut school just to see me—I knew they’d be cutting, anyway. I wondered if Alyse would show up, but I knew that if she did, it would be after school.

  Around seven o’clock, in walked Mr. Guzman. “Ty, how are you doing?”

  I straightened in bed. “I’m good.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He pulled up a chair. “Everyone’s hoping you’ll be back at school soon.”

  “So I ain’t getting kicked out?”

  “Why would you be?”

  Was he playing or what? “You read the papers, Mr. Guzman. You know what they saying about me.”

  Mr. Guzman wasn’t fazed. “I don’t know how much, if any, of what the papers have written is true. Frankly, it doesn’t concern me.” He took a thick folder out of h
is bag and put it on the bedstand. “All of your teachers have provided me with materials so you can keep up in their classes. Depending on how long your recovery takes, we may be able to arrange a tutor.”

  “I don’t need a tutor, Mr. Guzman. Thanks, but I got other things on my mind.”

  “I’ll leave the folder here. Have a look at it when you’re feeling better. My phone number is in there if you have questions.”

  “Okay.”

  He got up. “We all want to see you succeed, Ty.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Guzman.”

  He left, and I stared at the ceiling. As if I’d be thinking about school at a time like this. I had other things to worry about—like making sure Sonny was on top of things, and figuring out what Darkman was gonna do next.

  “Ty.”

  My throat went dry as Alyse approached the bed, sad eyes sliding over me. “How are you?”

  “A’ight.”

  “You really scared me.” She touched my arm. Her hand was so warm. “I prayed you’d be okay.”

  “Thanks. Looks like your prayers worked.”

  “I can see that.” She smiled softly. “I saw Mr. Guzman outside. It was nice of him to come, don’t you think? He really doesn’t want you to fall behind.”

  “Yeah.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Could you close the curtain?” I asked. The guy in the next bed was talking on the phone to his wife, but I didn’t like how he kept looking over.

  “Sure.” Then she cleared her throat and said quietly, “People are saying that you got shot because you were involved in drug dealing, that it’s the family business.”

  I swallowed.

  “I don’t blame you for not telling me about your dad.”

  “I ain’t ashamed of my dad.”

  “I’m not asking you to be. I don’t think it’s fair that people are judging you based on what your dad did. You got shot, they don’t know who did it, so they’re making you look like a criminal.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Even with all the rumors, Alyse thought I was innocent. Was my act that good?

  She squeezed my hand. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  I was tempted, real tempted, to keep her believing in me. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. But I had no choice. For her safety and Gavin’s, she needed to stay away from me. And I was tired of playing her this way.

  “Alyse, you gonna hate me.”

  “What? Why would I hate you?”

  I listened. The guy next to me was still on the phone. I lowered my voice. “I took over my dad’s business. I’m a hustler, and it ain’t small scale. That’s why I got shot. I got shot because somebody’s after my territory.”

  I wanted to look away, but I didn’t. My punishment was seeing the look on her face as I told her the truth. “I know I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I was selfish. I knew you wouldn’t be down with it, and I didn’t wanna lose you.”

  She yanked her hand away. “You’re fucking insane. You put me and my son in danger!”

  “Listen, after I found out that somebody was making a play for my business, I never took you out in public. You gotta know I never put you in danger.”

  “And I thought we didn’t go out because you didn’t want me to spend money on a babysitter!”

  “I know I shouldn’t have started up with you in the first place. But I wanted to be with you so bad. I’m sorry, Alyse. I’m mad sorry.”

  “I stood up for you. Now the whole school is laughing at me!”

  “Alyse . . . ” I reached for her hand, but she kept it away from me. “We both know that our relationship’s gotta stop here. Even if you were willing to give me another chance, the situation’s too dangerous for me to have a girlfriend. But we can still keep in touch. I’ll call you.”

  “Are you serious?” She looked at me like I was a monster. “You played me. That ain’t a basis for a friendship. That ain’t a basis for anything!”

  She walked out.

  ON THE HUNT

  A week later, I left the hospital on my own two feet.

  I called Mom when I knew she was at work and left a message. “Hey, Mom. I’m out of the hospital and I’m going back to my friend’s place. I need some time to myself to think about things, so I don’t wanna come home just yet. Hope you understand. I’ll call you soon. Love ya.”

  I cringed at the thought of how she’d react to the message, but it had to be this way.

  I moved to another hotel, where I checked in under a fake name. Monfrey was hanging on to my stuff from the first hotel. The new hotel, in Bay Ridge, was a perfect place to lie low while I got my strength back.

  My first visitor was Monfrey.

  He came in, plunking down my duffel bag and looking like he wanted to hug me. “Ty, man, you look good.”

  I knew he was lying. I lost a few pounds in the hospital—muscle I’d worked hard to put on.

  “I wanted to visit you in the hospital, but I didn’t wanna risk blowing my cover.”

  “You did the right thing. Sit down, Monfrey. Help yourself to some eats.” I had chips and chocolate from the vending machine. Monfrey was always hungry, maybe because he was always stoned. From the way he was walking, I could tell it had been a heavy few days for him.

  He didn’t go right for the chips. Talking mattered more. “When I heard what went down, I almost put a cap in Kevin’s bitch-ass myself. But when I found out you didn’t die, I figured you’d want to take care of that yourself.”

  “You’re right. I want you doing just what you doing. I need you on top of your game.”

  “I had no idea it was gonna happen, Ty. Kevin didn’t tell the guys, or if he did, he told them one-by-one, and made them keep it on the down-low. That day Kevin came in, all cocky and shit. But when he found out that you wasn’t necessarily gonna die, he wilded out.”

  “I won’t make the same mistake, Monfrey. I’m hiring a professional—somebody who don’t make mistakes.”

  “I hear that. It’s the only way. Kevin will come after you again. He got even more to prove now, since he fucked up the first time.”

  “Did you get any closer to Crow?”

  “Close enough to know it’s only a matter of time before he gets on a plane to Miami and leaves Kevin in the dust.”

  “What about the other guys?”

  “Kevin’s still got them under control—for now.”

  “I’ll pass on your digits to the guy I’m hiring. He’ll be calling you to get the goods on Kevin’s routine.” I cracked my knuckles. “Kevin King ain’t gonna live to see the new year.”

  * * *

  When Monfrey left, I called Ronnie. He told me to come over ASAP.

  2513 Nostrand Avenue was a redbrick townhouse. When the cab stopped at the curb I saw a curtain pull back in the front room. A little girl stood there and waved.

  A hitman with kids.

  I walked up to the door and rang the bell. The girl opened the inner door, looking up at me with big eyes. Behind her I heard heavy footsteps.

  “Stephanie, I told you never to answer the door by yourself!” The man who walked up behind her was big-boned, maybe forty, with a beard that was going gray. He opened the screen door and shook my hand. “Come on in.”

  The hallway had family pictures all over the walls. It would’ve been less strange to meet Ronnie in a back alley or deserted parking lot.

  “Nice place you got.”

  Ronnie smiled, flashing gold teeth. “Thank you. No mortgage or nothing. Meet my daughter, Stephanie.”

  “Hi, Stephanie. I’m Ty.” I shook the small hand that reached up to me.

  Ronnie patted her head. “We going to my office, honey. Keep on watching The Lion King.”

  She ran off.

  Ronnie motioned for me to follow him downstairs. “My wife’s at Ronnie Jr.’s basketball game. They won’t be back no time soon.”

  The basement had been converted into an office. By the looks of the stuffed bookshelves an
d half-open filing cabinets, Ronnie had another job—or did a good job of faking it.

  “Sit down. Boy, you the image of yo’ daddy.”

  “I been told that a time or two.” I sat down in the leather chair in front of the desk.

  “Tell me about the job.”

  I explained the Darkman situation as best I could.

  Ronnie said, “I do a clean job, Ty. I got a wife and kids, a good job with ConEd, and I ain’t going to jail. So I take a shot only if I can do it right, and if I can’t, I find another chance.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten Gs. Five now, five when the job’s done.”

  “A’ight. I guess you gonna tail him a few times before you make the hit?”

  “That’s the way I do it. I need a solid week to watch him.”

  “I got a guy on the inside who can help with all the details.” I passed him a piece of paper with Monfrey’s name and phone number.

  His eyes lit up like he got an early Christmas present. “That’ll be very helpful.”

  In my pocket, I had an envelope of cash. I counted out five thousand on the desk. “Call me before you make the hit, so I can have a good alibi.”

  “Of course. I’ll give you plenty of warning. I guess you worried he’ll come after you again?”

  “I ain’t worried. I got my own back.”

  Ronnie smiled. “Damn, boy, you just like yo’ daddy.”

  * * *

  Back in the hotel, I got a call on my cell. I recognized the number.

  “Alyse?”

  “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just that all of our teachers have been bugging me about where you are. They say you can’t be reached at your mom’s. The school doesn’t have your cell number, and I didn’t think you’d want me to give it to them.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Anyway, I said I’d call to ask if and when you’re coming back to Les Chancellor and if you need work to be assigned. So . . . are you coming back?”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Alyse. I got other things to worry about. Life-and-death things.”

  I heard her take a breath. “Ty . . . ” She was trying not to cry, I could hear it in her voice. “Can’t you get out of all this?”

  “It ain’t simple like that.” I wished I could find the words to explain everything to her, to show her that I wasn’t the bad guy she thought I was. “I’m doing what I gotta do to survive.”