Street Pharm Page 8

  “What else does he say about me?” I forked noodles into my mouth.

  “That you too young and inexperienced to handle him, and that you’ll be done by the end of the year, one way or the other.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. Is he planning something?”

  “Don’t know.”

  I chewed my noodles slow. “Tell me about his crew.”

  “He got three guys with him from Miami. Crow, Natty, and Alejandro. The three of ’em live together just a few blocks from him and Leanne in Bed-Stuy. Kevin and Crow is tight—Crow got some say in how shit goes down. The others, you know, just do what Kevin tells them.”

  “What do they do for him?”

  “They find new customers. They sell on the street.”

  “They use?”

  “C’mon now, Ty. We all use.” He grinned like a fool.

  My eyes narrowed. “You keep it under control.”

  “I will.”

  “Do you know who messed up Carlos?”

  “All of ’em, and they had fun doing it. Especially Alejandro. He’s one sick bitch.” His mouth twisted like he tasted something sour.

  “These fellas loyal to their boss?”

  “I guess so. They all been working for the family since they was young.”

  “So they happy with him? No complaints?”

  “Oh, they be complaining. They barely getting paid because Darkman ain’t bringing in much cash.”

  “Work on getting them to trust you. Especially Crow.”

  “I been working on it. The dumber he thinks I am, the more he’ll say around me. Gimme a couple weeks.”

  TURKEY SHOOT

  Over the loudspeaker the next day, the student announcer said, “Get ready, Les Chancellor High! Today is our annual turkey shoot!”

  The class cheered. “Does this mean we get outta class?” I asked the guy behind me.

  “You got it. Everybody does the turkey shoot, ’cause once you out, you get to stay and watch. Nobody goes back to class all day.”

  At 10 a.m. we got out of class. The dividing wall between the boys’ and girls’ gyms was taken down so we could watch the whole competition. Everybody went to their assigned baskets. I lined up with the guys at Hoop 6.

  Scanning the gym for Alyse, I spotted her at Hoop 12, stretching on the floor with a few other girls. I looked around at my competition, thinking it would be cool if I could win this thing. I always was a solid shooter. When I got into the zone, I never missed.

  I grabbed a ball from one of the bins and started dribbling, bouncing it on my knee, then under my leg, testing my concentration.

  My first practice shot was a swish. Nothing but net.

  A whistle got everybody’s attention. The competition was starting.

  Coach Hayes was in charge of Hoop 6. “All right, guys, line up over here. I’ll call your names one by one. You have ten seconds to shoot. Remember, you step over the free-throw line and your shot’s invalid. No re-shots allowed.” He looked down at his clipboard. “First up, Inman, Elijah.”

  Elijah did a little fancy bouncing, then released the ball. I knew right away that its arc was all wrong. It clanked off the rim.

  With his head hanging low, he went to stand with the other eliminated guys on the far wall.

  The next shooter did better, but the one after that wasn’t so lucky.

  It was my turn. Taking position, I bounced the ball once, twice, three times, getting into the zone. I looked up, rose up, swish!

  A beauty.

  Half an hour later, I was the last man standing in my group. Ryan Bailey gave me a run for my money, but in the end, his shot bounced off the rim.

  Before lining up with the other male finalists at Hoop 1, I went to the fountain for a long drink. When I looked up, Alyse was standing there.

  “You’re doing great,” she said. “Everyone’s been saying you got fine form.”

  “Thanks. How’d you do?”

  She laughed. “I didn’t even make the first basket. The ball didn’t get anywhere near it!”

  I couldn’t help laughing too. “I’m glad you can laugh at yourself.”

  “Why not? I know my strengths. Basketball’s not one of them. But at least I can miss a day of classes. Not that I would’ve minded those Knicks tickets.”

  “Knicks tickets?”

  “Well, it isn’t official, but the president of the Student Council told me last week that she was trying to get two pairs of tickets for the guy and girl winners.”

  “That’s banging. If I win, I know who I’ll bring.”

  Her eyes lit up.

  The whistle blew. “I better get back.”

  She kissed my cheek. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

  I walked across the gym and lined up with the finalists. I slapped the hand of the homeboy in front of me, a white guy called Austen Forrester. He was a ball player with mad skills.

  One by one, the guys took their shots. I landed mine with no problems.

  So did the others.

  Each guy had his own technique. Some jumped clear off the floor as they shot, others went on tiptoe. Some dribbled before shooting, others stood, ball-in-hand, staring directly at the net. Some did tricks for the crowd, others paid the crowd no mind, and tried to get into the zone.

  My second shot was clean. Cheers broke out from the stands. I looked over my shoulder to see Alyse jumping up and down. I blew her a kiss, making the crowd wild out.

  I took my place in line again, dribbling to get back my focus. The crowd let out a huge “Awwww” as Drew McDermott’s shot spun around the rim, almost dipped in, but instead spun out. A heartbreaker.

  Soon there was only six of us. We went three rounds that way.

  Then five. Henry’s ball bounced out off the backboard.

  Then four. George’s shot didn’t have enough spin.

  Then three. Dayate let out a howl as the net coughed up his ball.

  The two finalists were me and Austen Forrester. His shots were as perfect as mine.

  So how could I beat him?

  What would Sun Tzu say?

  When you’re up against a force of equal power, the answer isn’t to try to prove you’re better. The answer is to wait for an advantage.

  I didn’t need to sweat about beating Austen Forrester, I realized. I only had to keep up my game. Eventually he would make a mistake.

  Before Austen could take the next shot, a whistle blew. My head shot up. The president of the Student Council, Martina Léon, walked up to us with a microphone. “Before you take your final shots, I want to announce what the winner’s prize will be.”

  The crowd booed the interruption.

  “Shhh . . . Look, believe me, this prize is worth knowing about, and I’m sure it’ll motivate these guys even more. The prize is two Knicks tickets! And not just any Knicks tickets. They’re fifth row!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “Les Chancellor High would like to thank the Knicks’  Tickets for Achievers program for donating the tickets. Let’s give it up for the Knicks and our finalists!”

  I groaned, bouncing the ball over and over, pissed off at the interruption. I looked at Austen, whose eyes were bugging out. He wanted those tickets bad. Would it throw him off?

  “Shhh . . . Quiet, everyone,” Martina said. “Let’s get back to the competition.” She walked to the side, and the whistle blew again.

  Austen stepped up, shot, scored.

  I walked up, shot, scored.

  Austen scored again.

  I scored again.

  He scored again.

  I scored again. Austen cursed and stamped his foot.

  My eyes were glued to the ball as Austen released his next shot. It hit the front of the rim and bounced out.

  The crowd booed and cheered.

  To win, I had to land this shot.

  I walked up to the line, trying to tune out the hoopla in the stands, trying not to picture Alyse and the rest of the school watching me.

/>   In my mind, I was thirteen again. It was after dark, and I was the only kid left on the court. I been trying for ages to land ten in a row, and I was gonna stay as long as it took. Sure, Dad was locked up. But when I got drafted to the NBA, he’d be able to watch me on TV. I’d landed nine shots so far. . . .

  I dribbled several times, tattooing the line at my toes. After I positioned the ball just right with the NBA label showing on top, I took my jump and let it fly.

  Swish!!!

  The net hugged the ball for a second before dropping it to the floor.

  People from the stands rushed onto the courts, surrounding me. Alyse ran up, and I caught her in a big hug.

  “Ty, that was so amazing!”

  “You’re amazing, boo.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Martina. “Congratulations! Here are the tickets!”

  I looked down at Alyse. “So, wanna go to a Knicks game?”

  * * *

  When something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

  Sitting beside Alyse in the bleachers watching the girls’ final, I realized I couldn’t take her to the Knicks game. It wasn’t safe to be out in public with her, especially in fifth-row seats at an NBA game.

  Maybe the chance that Darkman would go after Alyse was small, but any chance was too much. Alyse wouldn’t want to be a part of this game.

  I shouldn’t be with her at all.

  I looked at her, something tightening in my chest. It was too late.

  I tapped her leg with the tickets. “Alyse, I better give you these.”

  “Scared you might lose them?”

  “Yeah, or somebody might jump me for them after school.”

  She laughed and tucked them into her bag. “I’ll keep them safe.” Turning her attention back to the game, she got up and cheered when her friend landed a basket. “Goooo, Kristen!”

  I figured I’d call her at the last minute and cancel. Alyse could call up a friend, or even take her mom. It was all good.

  I reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. She smiled at me. We didn’t need words.

  Yeah, it was all good.

  FAMILY MATTERS

  Family parties were wack. On the Johnson side, you had a bunch of crackheads, like my late uncle Jean. I used to sit next to him on the couch while he talked shit, guzzled cheap wine, and went to the bathroom for hits.

  On the Greaves side, you had a bunch of saps. Mom had four sisters, who all had babies by pricks and players. Family get-togethers had lots of tears, bitching about men, greasy soul food, more tears, wine, and more bitching about men.

  So when, over the phone, Alyse asked me to come to her mom’s Halloween party, I made up an excuse.

  “Wish I could, but I gotta work. I probably won’t get off till late.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. But I understand.”

  I don’t think Alyse was trying to make me feel guilty, but I did. A few minutes later I called her back. “Just talked to my boss. He’s gonna let me go early.”

  “You’re so sweet!”

  But when the night came, I was feeling sour. I spent that whole rainy Saturday making deliveries, and I was wiped. But I couldn’t back out. Alyse was waiting for me, and I didn’t want to let her down.

  At least I didn’t have to wear no Halloween costume. After showering, I put on black pants and a white sweater from Banana Republic, with shiny black shoes. Preppy clothes made my white customers feel comfortable, so I had lots of them. They didn’t want their dealer showing up in Enyce or Sean John. Those brands had ghetto written all over them.

  I walked past Mom, who was on the couch watching TV and eating Cheez Doodles. I threw on my jacket and was reaching for the doorknob when she asked, “Where ya off to, honey?”

  “A friend’s Halloween party.”

  “Which friend?”

  “Janelle.” I never told her the names of people I hung out with.

  “Janelle, hmm?”

  “It ain’t like that, Ma. She and a bunch of homies from school will be there.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice!” She got off the couch and walked up to me, straightening the collar of my jacket. I gritted my teeth, hoping Cheez Doodle dust wasn’t messing it up.

  Guess she was in one of her mama moods. It was annoying when she got this way. But her naggy mama moods were worse.

  “I’m so happy you doing well at school and you made lots of friends. It ain’t easy starting over somewhere else, but you done great. Everyone always took to you, Ty, ever since you was a little boy. Even your teachers!”

  “Can’t blame them.”

  “For a while I was afraid your father was influencing you too much.”

  Five seconds to bitchy mama. Four, three, two . . .

  But she just shook her head. “Anyway, I’m real glad you invited to a party. What are you bringing?”

  “Bringing?” Shit, I didn’t even think of getting a gift.

  “You can’t go to a party without bringing something.” She tapped my lapel. “Now you wait here. I don’t want people thinking my son is cheap.”

  She hurried down the hallway in her fluffy pink slippers, stuck her head in a closet, and came out with a box of chocolates.

  “Don’t it look expensive? I won it in a raffle at work. I was gonna save it for the holidays.”

  “It’s perfect, Mom.” I reached for my wallet.

  “Put that away now. Just take it and get yourself to the party. I bet you already late. Go on.”

  “Mom, thanks.”

  She smiled. “Night, honey. Go on now.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Alyse welcomed me with a hug.

  “I’m so glad you came, Ty!”

  “Me too, shorty.”

  She backed out of my arms, giggling. “Look at you, all clean-cut and preppy.”

  “You like?”

  “Uh-huh. You got class written all over you, son.”

  “So do you, boo.”

  Our eyes locked. No doubt about it, we were feeling each other.

  A bump against my leg broke the moment. It was Gavin, dressed as Batman in a purple suit and cape.

  Alyse picked him up. “He’s supposed to be playing in the bedroom with his cousins. I bet he heard your voice and ran out to see if it was you.”

  “Hey, Gavin. How you doing, Little G?” I tickled the top of his head.

  A lady wearing black clothes and a cat mask came up to us. “Is this Ty, dear?”

  “Mom, the mask . . . ”

  She took off her mask. Alyse’s mom had a strong handshake and a Mariah Carey smile. “So nice to finally meet you, Ty.”

  I gave her the chocolates. “Thanks for having me, Ms.—”

  “Call me Yvonne.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  She grinned and tapped Alyse’s shoulder. “I like this boy. Make yourself at home, Ty. There’s plenty of food. Enjoy yourself.” She went off toward the kitchen.

  Alyse bounced Gavin in her arms. “Let’s take him back to the bedroom. Cousin Sarah’s reading scary stories. Then I’ll introduce you to the rest of my family.”

  “You the boss, honey.”

  She winked at me. “You figured that out quick.”

  Over the next hour, I also figured out that her family wasn’t half bad. Halloween at home was a family tradition since nobody wanted to take the kids trick-or-treating in a neighborhood with a rep for Halloween eggings, muggings, and drive-bys. There must’ve been six or seven little kids running around the place. I tried not to step on any of them.

  The whole apartment was done up with plastic spiderwebs, black and orange streamers, and colored lightbulbs. In the living room, space was cleared for a dance floor. Alyse’s bedroom was Candy Central. I spent some time chilling there with the kids, and even swapped my Mars bar for a Twix with her six-year-old cousin Vicky.

  All and all, her family seemed like good people. But I had to stop myself from laughing when Aunt Grace asked, “What church do
you go to?”

  “I’m Presbyterian,” I answered. “My mom’s a church elder.”

  “Is she? She’s setting a good example for you.”

  “Definitely.”

  Alyse came up beside me. “He’s from a good family,” she said.

  Good thing she don’t know about Orlando.

  Aunt Grace said, “This family’s AME, but we like Presbyterians, too.” She winked and walked away.

  Alyse nudged me. “So you’re a Presbyterian, are you?”

  “You got it.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “When’s the last time you went to church?”

  “Um, let me think . . . ”

  She laughed.

  A few minutes later, on a sugar high from Cousin Riqui’s Halloween punch, I let Alyse drag me onto the dance floor with the kids. Michael Jackson’s Thriller was playing. I taught the kids some of the hot dance moves I had worked on over the years, especially my Moonwalk. Alyse cheered me on.

  We collapsed onto the sofa, out of breath.

  My cell phone rang. Sonny’s number. “Yeah?”

  “You want the bad news, or the motherfucking awful news?”

  “What happened?”

  “K-Ron got busted with a shitload of coke in his trunk.”

  “Whoa.” I closed my eyes. “That ain’t good.”

  “Guess who he fingered as his dealers?”

  “Who?”

  “Us. You and me.”

  “Don’t play me.”

  “I ain’t playing you, Ty.”

  “I’m on my way over.”

  “Wait! Should I pack a bag and get outta here? I mean, do you think the cops are gonna pick me up?”

  “Just stay put. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I hung up.

  “What’s going on?” Alyse looked worried.

  “A friend’s in trouble. Sorry, but I gotta bounce. I better go say good-bye to your family.” I got up. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the Knicks game. I’m thinking we’ll meet around six.”

  “Okay.” She got up and touched my face. “Seriously, Ty, is there something I can do? Can I come with you?”

  “It wouldn’t be a good idea.” I kissed her cheek. “But thanks, Alyse. Tonight’s been great.”