“You be mindful that you don't have her out here like that. When your enemy knows what you love, that'll be the first thing they try to use against you,” Monk said passionately.
One look at the moisture dancing in the corners of his father's eyes and Li'l Monk knew where his thoughts were. Rumor had it that the men who had killed his mother had actually come looking for Monk's stash. Though it was never confirmed, Monk went at them anyway. For what they had done to his wife, Monk killed them in the most gruesome ways he could think of, dragging each death out as long as he could. The last one he saved for Li'l Monk. At the time, Li'l Monk was just a young angry kid, trying to figure out how to cope with the death of his mother, but by forcing him to pull the trigger that night, Monk had turned his son into something else. In stealing his innocence, Monk had uncovered the monster that had been hiding inside his son.
“You got it, Dad. We're probably gonna go upstairs and smoke a blunt then I'll put Sophie in a cab,” Li'l Monk promised.
Monk smiled. “Good man, way better man than I was at your age. I'm about to go do me, but let me hold a few dollars.”
“Didn't I just have Droopy give you some gas for your tank?”
Monk gave him a look. “And what's that got to do with anything? Li'l nigga, I took care of you all of your life so I know you ain't fronting on me over a few funkyass dollars. As a matter of fact, run that before I go up in your pockets like I do the rest of these sissies.” He patted Li'l Monk's pockets playfully.
“A'ight, man. You got it.” Li'l Monk laughed, digging in his pocket. He peeled a hundred dollar bill and handed it to his father.
Monk held the bill up to the light, checking its authenticity. “A bill, huh?” He shoved the money into his pocket. “Ramses must be out here feeding y'all niggas real good.”
Li'l Monk shrugged. “I'm earning my keep, nothing more and nothing less.”
“I'll bet.” Monk sucked his teeth as if he had something stuck between them. It's something he always did when he was plotting. “Maybe one of these days me and you will pay a visit to Pharaoh's pad and see what he's hiding in that castle I hear he lives in. What do ya say, son? Me and you like two desperados riding on these pussies and taking everything they lay claim to.”
Li'l Monk raised his hands in surrender. “I'm cool on all that mutiny shit, Dad. Pharaoh and Ramses play fair with me so it's only right I play fair with them.”
Monk shook his head sadly. “Loyal as a damn dog. That's definitely not a quality you got from my side of the family. Have it your way, but if you should ever change your mind I'm sure you know where to find me.” He saluted his boy and left.
CHAPTER 8
Dealing with his father always took a lot out of Li'l Monk. Li'l Monk's heart struggled to understand how a man who had once been of such high standing could've fallen so far from grace, but his brain understood his father's plight. When Monk had everyone he cared about taken from him, he succumbed to hopelessness. There was nothing left for him to fight for. Looking at his father was like looking into a mirror and seeing how Li'l Monk's life could end up if he didn't play his cards right. One bad decision could derail your whole game plan.
Pushing thoughts of his father from his mind, Li'l Monk turned his attention back to Droopy. He was leaning against the traffic light, smoking a cigarette. For as insane as it was to see a child standing on a street corner smoking a cancer stick, nobody gave Droopy a second look.
“Come here.” Li'l Monk waved Droopy over.
Droopy took his time, diddy bopping over to Li'l Monk, taking slow drags of his cigarette. Droopy moved like an adult trapped in a child's body. “Yeah?”
Li'l Monk plucked the cigarette from Droopy's mouth and tossed it on the ground. “That's a disgusting habit.”
“Shit, Li'l Monk.” Droopy tried to pick the cigarette up to salvage it, but Li'l Monk crushed it under his sneaker. “Man, do you know how much loosies cost?”
“Instead of complaining, you should be thanking me for saving your life. Fuck that cigarette, I got more pressing shit to holla at you about. Walk with me and let's talk,” Li'l Monk told him, starting back toward the building where Sophie and Tasha were standing. Li'l Monk gathered his thoughts, thinking of how he wanted to open the conversation. “What you doing out here, Droopy?”
“What you mean?” Droopy played dumb like he didn't know what Li'l Monk was talking about.
Li'l Monk stopped and stood directly in front of Droopy, clasping his hands in front of him. There were no signs of mirth in his eyes. “Droopy, you really wanna play this game with me?”
Droopy looked down at Li'l Monk's scarred and blackened knuckles. The scrapes and bruises told the story of what those hands had been through. “Nah,” he conceded. Li'l Monk gave him one last hard look before continuing his walk.
“Droopy, I know you heard me loud and clear the last time I told you that I didn't want your young ass out here pitching stones, so I'm trying to figure out why you back out here like my word ain't no good?” Li'l Monk asked as they approached the building.
“Li'l Monk, you know your word is golden with me, but feel my pain. I'm just out here trying to get a hot meal like everyone else. I don't see what the problem is.”
“The problem is that you're thirteen years old trying to play adult games,” Li'l Monk shot back. “God forbid if something were to happen to you, we'd all be done off for letting you rock. At your age you should be in school trying to lean some shit instead of being on the block fucking around with us.”
“I dig where you're coming from, but let me ask you a question, have you ever tried focusing on school work when you can't hear the teacher over the sound of your own stomach growling? I don't know my daddy and my mama died of the monster. My auntie get a check every month to take care of me, but I don't ever see a dime of that money because she tricks it all off on liquor and niggas. Li'l Monk, I know where you're coming from and I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but to keep it real, I'm tired of not having. If I can't get money out here with y'all, I'm just gonna go find somebody else who'll let me work. Whether I wanna be or not, I'm out here because I ain't got no choice.”
Li'l Monk regarded Droopy. Normally he was popping slick and trying to play tough, but at that moment he dropped the façade Li'l Monk saw him for exactly what he was: a scared kid who was trying to not get swallowed up by the world. Droopy's story hit close to home with Li'l Monk, because he knew exactly how it felt to be hungry and desperate.
“A'ight, Droopy.” Li'l Monk sighed. “I'm gonna allow you to get a few dollars out here so you can feed yourself, but I don't want you touching no drugs. You can play lookout or run errands, but keep your little ass away from the work, you understand?”
Droopy smiled. “I got you, man. And thanks.”
“Oh, there's one catch.”
Droopy looked suspicious. “What?”
“You can only hustle after school. Between the hours of eight a.m. and three p.m., I need you in somebody's classroom at least acting like you're trying to learn something,” Li'l Monk told him.
Droopy sucked his teeth. “Come on, Li'l Monk. I ain'tâ”
“I don't wanna hear it,” Li'l Monk cut him off. “You wanna get money, it's my way or no way. You don't like it? Go fuck with them niggas from St. Nick projects and let them work you like a dog for pennies.”
“A'ight, you got that,” Droopy reluctantly conceded.
“Glad we see eye to eye. Now take whatever drugs you got left on you and pass them off to one of the youngsters,” Li'l Monk ordered.
Droopy patted his balls, where he had the drugs stashed. “I'm all out. The two I gave that base head were all I had left.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Li'l Monk snapped.
“Damn, my fault. What is it with you and that old dude? Where you know him from?” Droopy asked. He couldn't understand why Li'l Monk was so defensive over the drug addict.
“I know him from his nut sack. He's my father,” Li'l Monk revealed.
The revelation shocked Droopy. “That was Monk? As in Big Monk?” His mouth suddenly became very dry.
“Let that be a lesson to you, Droopy. Watch your mouth when speaking to your elders because you never know who it is you're disrespecting and what the repercussions could be.”
“You right, Li'l Monk.” He didn't know Monk personally, but had heard enough stories about the old head to know that the confrontation between them could've gone very, very bad.
When Li'l Monk and Droopy got back to the front of the building, Sophie was clearly irritated. “Damn, I thought you were gonna leave me standing over here forever while you were playing with your little friends,” Sophie said with an attitude.
“I wasn't playing. I was preventing a homicide.” Li'l Monk cut his eyes at Droopy.
“Droopy, you stay in some shit,” Tasha said. She had known Droopy since he was a baby and for as long as she could remember he was always involved in some type of mischief.
“So, what y'all about to do?” Li'l Monk changed the subject.
“I don't know. Why, are you trying to get rid of me?” Sophie asked.
“Nah, baby. It ain't like that. I just don't want you on the block like that. It's hot out here,” Li'l Monk told her.
“Well, me and Tasha was gonna get some weed from up the block and then probably go back to my house.”
“You ain't gotta go in that death trap to get no smoke, ma. I got some weed upstairs. You and Tasha go to the store and get some White Owls and we can blaze upstairs,” Li'l Monk suggested.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Tasha replied for Sophie. “Come on, Soph.” She pulled her friend down the block toward the corner bodega.
“Damn,” Droopy said watching Sophie and Tasha walk away. “You one lucky-ass nigga, Li'l Monk.”
“I be knowing.” Li'l Monk cracked a half smile. His attention was drawn from his girlfriend's figure when a livery cab pulled to a stop at the curb a few feet away. Instinctively Li'l Monk positioned himself so that he could spin off and retrieve his pistol, which was inside the mailbox, if necessary. When he saw a familiar face getting out of the back, he relaxed a bit. The tension still lingered, but not because he felt threatened; because he didn't know how to feel about the passenger.
Li'l Monk quietly observed Charlie as he pushed the back door open and looked up and down the block cautiously before daring to step out. He fished in his pocket and came up with some crumbled bills, which he smoothed as best he could and handed them to the taxi driver. There was a brief exchange about the fare versus what the driver was given, which resulted in Charlie flipping him the middle finger and walking off.
Same old Charlie,
Li'l Monk thought, shaking his head.
Charlie was a frail, light-skinned kid with big lips and a slick mouth. He and Li'l Monk had been best friends since they were little, and Li'l Monk was smashing kids in the sandbox on behalf of Charlie. Charlie was what you would call a trouble tree, which meant trouble seemed to follow him.
Over the last few months, Li'l Monk and Charlie's relationship had begun deteriorating over the same thing many friendships crumble over: money. Li'l Monk was on the come up and Charlie was still trying to find his way from ground zero and it bothered him. Li'l Monk had tried to spread love as best he could, but Charlie always found a reason to be bitter, or something to complain about.
His biggest issue seemed to be Li'l Monk's relationship with Omega. For reasons that Li'l Monk still didn't understand, Charlie and Omega were like oil and water. Charlie hated Omega because he felt like he had stolen his spot as Li'l Monk's best friend and Omega claimed he didn't rock with Charlie because he was a leech. When Li'l Monk got to the point where there was nothing else he could do to defuse the tension between the two of them he just stepped back and let the chips fall where they would.
“What's good, family?” Charlie greeted Li'l Monk with dap and a hug.
“Slow motion,” Li'l Monk told him.
Charlie looked at Droopy. “What it do, shorty?”
“Whatever Li'l Monk needs it to do,” Droopy capped back. He never cared for Charlie. Many thought that it was just because Charlie had been among the older kids in the neighborhood who always gave Droopy a hard time, but it went deeper than that. Several years prior, when Droopy was a child still living with his mother he'd had the misfortune of wandering into her bedroom in the middle of the night while she was turning a trick in exchange for drugs. That trick just happened to be Charlie. It had happened so long ago that Droopy doubted Charlie even remembered the incident or that he was the kid who had come into the room, but it was still fresh in Droopy's mind. No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to bury the vision of Charlie's yellow ass thrusting in and out of his mother.
“Was that Sophie and Tasha I saw going into the store?” Charlie asked, ignoring the piercing glare Droopy was giving him.
“Yeah, they went to get some cigars so we can burn it down right quick,” Li'l Monk told him.
“Looks like I came right on time.” Charlie rubbed his hands together greedily. “Yo, what's up with Tasha? You think she'll let me fuck?”
Li'l Monk shrugged. “Best I can tell you is to try your hand and see what happens, but you know that girl's nose is wide open for Omega.”
Charlie's face darkened. “Damn, it's not bad enough a nonlocal nigga is getting all the local money, but he getting all the local pussy, too?”
“C'mon with that shit, Charlie. You know Omega is fam, so don't start that dirty talk because I ain't really trying to hear it,” Li'l Monk told him. He remained neutral in Charlie and Omega's feud, but he never let one talk greasy about the other.
“I feel you.” Charlie nodded. “Did you have a chance to give any thought to what I was building with you about?”
When Li'l Monk and Omega started doing their thing heavy in the hood, Charlie ventured out on his own. Li'l Monk never really got into who he was hustling with or where they were doing it, because it wasn't his business, so long as his friend wasn't in the streets destitute, he was cool. They didn't see much of each other on their respective climbs up the criminal ladder, outside of the occasional passing in the hood because Charlie lived on the strip where Li'l Monk and Omega sold drugs. Recently, Charlie had started coming back around and trying to get next to Li'l Monk. Whatever money well he had been tapping was drying up and he was acting like he suddenly remembered where his bread was buttered. Regardless of what Li'l Monk and Charlie had gone through, they still had eighteen years of history and Li'l Monk couldn't turn him away. Li'l Monk wasn't yet comfortable to give him a seat at the table, for he had considered feeding Charlie with a long-handled spoon.
Li'l Monk looked from Droopy to Charlie and gave him a look that said “you should know better.” “We'll talk,” he said dryly.
Charlie took the hint and wisely changed the subject. “Say, did you see the Yankee game the other day?”
While the three men sat around talking sports, a cat everybody knew as Neighborhood came ambling down the block. Despite the fair weather he was wearing his signature army jacket and a heavy Coogi sweater that had seen better days. It was so tattered that you could see through the gaps of patchwork colorful fabric, straight to the white tank top beneath it. Neighborhood broke his stride briefly to tip his lint-riddled wool skully to an old woman and her child who were passing him, before continuing on his merry way. In his day, Neighborhood had been about his paper. The old timer was responsible for giving some of the most celebrated criminals in Harlem their very first packages, including Face and Big Monk. Neighborhood could've been great, but his love for good times and better drugs poisoned his destiny. When it was all said and done Neighborhood was left with nothing but fond memories and a serious drug habit.
When Neighborhood saw Li'l Monk, he parted his thick, crusty lips into a wide slave grin showing off what was left of his rotting teeth. “If it ain't my main man.” He walked up on Li'l Monk and extended a hand that looked like it hadn't been washed in a few days.