Authors: Tamicka Higgins
“We got something we want you to see,” Juan said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. “Actually, we might be just in time to see it right now. It’s ten-oh-three. We got something that we supposed to show you and your husband.” Juan looked at her husband, remembering how the guy had hit him and Knight over the backs of their heads with the chair. He could still feel the stinging from the bump on the back of his head. And for that reason, he could not feel one ounce of remorse for the older dude, who looked as if he’d gotten beat up and dragged down the street by three or four guys.
Juan stepped over to the television and turned it on, wiping the dust off with the edge of his fingers. He noticed that there was a digital adapter on the side, telling him that this old thing just might work. The screen slowly lit up and Juan pressed buttons until the channels began to go up. He stopped once he got to Fox 32. Every pair of eyes in the room was locked on the television, as the camera zoomed in on newscasters.
“Bank robbery suspects are still at large tonight,” a Rebecca Howell explained. “And the Chicago Police Department, in joint efforts with local law enforcement agencies in nearby Indiana counties, have vowed to not stop until they have the suspects in custody.”
Juan and Knight stood there as a clearly stunned Vivica and her husband stared at the television. Juan watched for their reactions, knowing that Byron would sooner or later ask how they reacted to such news that their baby boy and his friend were wanted criminals and on the run. The news station transferred broadcasting to a live broadcast outside of the police station. In the background, police cars were parked in clusters on the street. In front of the brick building, officers huddled in the background as one local official gave the public a briefing of the progress the authorities were making with tracking down these armed bank robbery suspects. Halfway through the report, Vivica and Frank practically choked on what they’d heard, knowing they were about to see Frank’s son’s face.
The news station showed Tramar and Jackson’s faces, identifying them as the suspects in the robbery of a bank downtown as well as two banks in Indiana. The speaker went over their height, how the police had raided a motel where they were staying, and what kinds of cars they were suspected to be driving. While the description of Jackson’s car was a little vague, especially in a city as large as Chicago, the description of Tramar’s red Charger with rims and special designs on the exterior was a dead giveaway. At that very moment, Frank felt his heart sink.
“Why?” Frank said, struggling to speak with his swollen, busted lips. “Why would he go and do some shit like this, Vivica? Why?”
Everyone in the room could hear the disappointment in Frank’s voice.
“I raised him in a good home and he had a decent life,” Frank said. “Maybe not the very best, but he certainly had it better than I did. He was always after that fast money and girls and stuff.”
Vivica felt the need to interject. “Why?” she asked. “Why are you showing us this? So, what you’re saying is that we’re never getting out of here? I heard what the other nigga said, something about how things would get bad in here if Tramar didn’t come through with the money. That’s why he’s out there robbing banks and stuff. You all are making him do that shit, aren’t you?”
Juan shrugged his shoulders. “Lady,” he said, turning away and walking back toward Knight in the doorway. “Nobody made him do anything. He got involved in some shit that he shouldn’t have gotten involved in. That’s all I can really say. Okay, well, y’all niggas got y’all dinner and stuff. We gon’ be out here, okay?”
Vivica watched, with scolding eyes, as the two men closed the door. They locked it and slammed the keys down onto the small table in the hallway. All Vivica could think about was how she’d do anything to be out of that room.
Out in the dining room, Juan and Knight sat down at the dining room table. They each grabbed their bag of White Castles and started to eat. Halfway through his second sandwich, Juan stopped and looked at Knight. “Nigga,” he said, “did you notice that car riding down the street when we came walking in the house?”
“I don’t know,” Knight said, stuffing his face with French fries. “I mean, it’s Chicago, nigga. How many cars you think we seen today and shit? How the fuck you think I’m supposed to have noticed just one car out of the thousands we prolly done seen today?”
Juan said, “Fuck you.” He then tossed a French fry across the table, watching it hit Knight in the shirt. “Naw, nigga,” he said. “I’m being serious. I mean, did you notice that car that was riding down this block, this street right here, right out front, when we were pulling up and coming into the house?”
“I guess, yeah,” Knight said. “But, I mean, I ain’t think nothin’ of it. Why? Nigga, don’t tell me that your ass is over there getting paranoid and shit.”
“Naw, nigga,” Juan said. “I ain’t over here feelin’ paranoid and shit. I’m just being observant, especially if we don’t want Byron’s ass breathing down our necks for the rest of our lives, nigga. I was just askin’ you a question, nigga, because something seemed a little funny. It was like they slowed down after they got down toward the other end of the block or something.”
“Nigga, it’s dark outside,” Knight said, implying that his buddy should have some reason. “Think about it. It’s night and it’s dark. What are the chances you gon’ be able to look down the street and be able to tell that a car is slowing down from this far up the block? Nigga, I think you trippin’ or something ‘cause I ain’t think nothin’ about it. It was just a car that just so happened to be riding by and shit when we were comin’ up in the house. Just like right now, if we walk outside and stand there for a minute, smoking a blunt or something, a car is gon’ ride by, and they would just so happen to be riding by when our asses is out there, standing and shit. That’s all it was and that’s all it will be. Plus, you heard Byron. He said ain’t nobody been over in this house for quite some time. You saw all the damn dust when we got here.”
“I know,” Juan said, looking around. “This shit is the reason I ain’t invited no pussy to come over. That nigga Byron is up in that big ass, nice house with two fat booty bitches, and here we are stuck in some dusty old house and babysitting and shit. This shit is fucked up if you ask me.”
“I was thinkin’ the same shit, my nigga,” Knight said. “I want some pussy myself.”
Juan laughed. “Nigga, remember the last time we had a chick over and shit?” he said. “You got all shitty and stuff when the chick ain’t wanna fuck with you ‘cause your dick is little.” Juan laughed out loud.
Knight, feeling a little insulted, tossed a fry over at Juan. It hit him in the head and bounced off, falling to the table. In a matter of seconds, a full blown French fry fight had erupted between the two of them. They hurled French fries over the dining room table at one another until they realized they were wasting the very food they went to get to eat.
“Okay, nigga,” Juan said. “Stop, stop.”
The two of them calmed down. Juan looked around, feeling a little devious since he was more than sure that Byron would not be breaking away from his company anytime soon tonight to come check on them. He looked at Knight with an adventurous look on his face. “You know, you feel like doin’ a little cleanin’ up and shit, nigga?” he asked.
Knight looked around and shrugged. “Shit, I mean, we can,” he answered. “Why, what you got in mind?”
“We can get some bitches to come through,” Juan said. “I know some thots that would definitely come through and shit just to have somewhere to get away to. Man, if we clean up that front room and the bathroom. You know, make everything not look so damn dusty, we could get them bitches over here to smash.”
Knight nodded his head and smiled. “All right then, nigga,” he said. “Shit, let’s do it.”
Chapter 4
“Wassup, nigga?” Jackson asked, turning down the radio. “You ain’t said hardly shit since we pulled off that block.”
“Man, I know what that Damon nigga said,” Tramar said. “But something is tellin’ me that whoever them two niggas we saw going in that house are connected to Byron. I mean, I don’t really know, but I swear to God, nigga, I can feel it in my gut. I mean, for real. Remember the picture he posted of my family and shit?”
“Yeah, on Facebook,” Jackson said, in confirmation. “But what about it?”
“Think about it, nigga, damn,” Tramar said, feeling a little annoyed that Jackson wasn’t always the best at connecting the dots. “There was all that old furniture and funny lookin’ carpet in the background, right? Think about it, nigga. I think that was the house because the Damon nigga said that he know that Byron’s grandma used to live there. When he said that, all I could think about was how the background in the picture looked so fuckin’ old, man. I mean, that shit looked like where somebody grandma used to live.”
“Yeah, you right,” Jackson said. “So, you think that he got them up in that house? Right there, in the middle of the city like that?”
“Shit, I wouldn’t have suspected it either,” Tramar said. “How many times you think we done rolled through that neighborhood on the highway in the last week or so, man? Huh?”
“A bunch of times,” Jackson said. “So, what you sayin’ though? Are you really that sure that they could be up in there and shit? So sure that you’d wanna risk runnin’ up in there and finding out that we got the wrong place?”
Tramar bit his bottom lip. He was sure, but he didn’t want to risk running into a family or people who had nothing to do with this situation. He’d already pulled the Damon dude into the mess, but he knew that he had to. Tramar didn’t want to continue doing that, but when he looked at the clock and saw that it was getting closer and closer to Sunday, he knew that he would have to pull all the tricks if he was really serious about getting his father and stepmother back. He could feel the rage running through his veins at just the thought of what might be happening to his father and Vivica.
When they pulled into the back parking space at the hotel, Tramar looked across at Jackson. “Yes,” he said. “I feel like they in there, man. Something is telling me that that being the granny’s house, and the old ass look and furniture in the background on the pictures just ain’t a coincidence. Something is tellin’ me that they prolly locked up in that house because people ain’t thinkin’ that a damn thing is going to be going on there. Swear to God, I really feel it. Like you felt like runnin’ up in Byron’s shit on Monday.”
Jackson took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. “All right,” he said, knowing that he was going to stand with his best friend no matter what. “When you wanna go back? Tomorrow night or something?”
Tramar shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “Tonight.”
Jackson’s face wrinkled up, making it obvious that he was confused. He shook his head as he thought about it. “I don’t know about that, nigga,” he said. “I think we need to think about this shit a little more. You know, plan it and shit. Plus, you know that it’s gon’ be more people out on the streets on a Saturday night and shit then there would be on a Sunday, or even a Sunday morning. Yeah, let’s make a little house visit tomorrow morning instead of tonight so that we know ain’t shit probably happening up and down the street. Everybody is gonna be asleep.”
Tramar shook his head, letting Jackson know that he was sticking to what he’d said. “No,” he said. “No, no, no. I say we run up in that shit tonight, nigga. You heard what they said. We makin’ the news and shit. Every minute we waste is another minute that we could get caught or something…another minute that Byron could decide to just say fuck it and put a bullet in both my stepmama and my daddy’s head. Naw, man. I can’t wait. If you goin’ wit me, coo. If you not, then that’s coo too. But I’m not waitin’. If I gotta risk it all and drive my car back down there, I’ll do the shit myself tonight.”
Tramar hopped out of Jackson’s car, slamming the door behind him. He began walking toward the back entrance of the hotel. He felt around in his pocket to make sure that he’d remembered to grab the second keycard. Jackson quickly caught up with him.
“Okay, nigga,” Jackson said. “Okay. Tonight. But we gotta make sure we play this shit coo. Go up to the door and see how we feel. If little old ladies or something answer the door, I say we don’t run up in there. I ain’t try’na massacre no little old ladies or nothin’.”
Tramar nodded and shook hands with Jackson. “Coo,” he said. “Let’s just go in here and talk to Ayana ‘cause I wanna make sure that she okay with watching Quan for the rest of the night.”
The two of them walked back into the hotel and made their way back up to the room. Before Tramar entered, he tapped on the door lightly. Considering how Ayana’s nerves were at this point, he didn’t want to scare her or to make her think that something bad was about to go down. When he entered the room, he found Ayana climbing out of the bed. Quan lay on the other bed, asleep on top of the sheets.
Ayana rushed over to Tramar and Jackson, wanting to hear the details on what had happened. “He passed out like a hour ago or so,” she explained. “So, what happened?”
Tramar went and pulled the comforter up over Quan, seeing that the kid was out cold. He whispered to Ayana and told her to slide on her shoes so that they could talk out in the back of the hotel. Ayana quickly slipped into some moccasins and grabbed her cell phone and hotel room key. She followed Tramar and Jackson out into the hallway and to the elevator.
“What, Tramar?” Ayana asked. “What is it?” She could see the look of seriousness they hadn’t had before they left. Going to see Sharli’s friend Damon must have changed everything.
“Just wait till we get into the parking lot,” Tramar said softly.
They rolled the elevator down to the ground floor and quickly rushed out into the back parking lot. Out by Tramar and Jackson’s cars, they talked.
“What happened, Tramar?” Ayana asked, tired of feeling as if she was being purposely left out. “What happened?”
“Calm down, Ayana,” Tramar said, rubbing her shoulders. “We went and hooked up with the Damon dude. And, well, we found out what I think we need to know.”
“What, Tramar? What?” Ayana asked. “Y’all ain’t go and cause no problem for Sharli, did y’all? Please tell me that y’all ain’t go and do nothin’ stupid.”
Tramar glanced at Jackson before he explained what had all happened. Once he saw the look on Ayana’s face, he knew he needed to start being a little more forceful. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know who the fuck side you supposed to be on or who the fuck you call yourself worrying about, but you really think that that nigga was just going to give us the information that we needed and shit just like that, huh? Ayana? You really think that? We ain’t have no choice but to go ahead and get what we needed out of him before we got to askin’ questions and the little nigga ran and told or something. That’s how we got led to the house. And, like I said with the photo and stuff, Ayana, I really feel like my daddy and stepmother is in there. Swear to God, something about it when we rolled by told me that they in there. Something about it was like it would be the perfect place to keep somebody and nobody have a fuckin’ idea.”
Ayana could feel a little tear swell up in her left eye. She wiped it away quickly, not wanting to show that she was feeling any sort of weakness. When she looked back at Tramar, she saw in his eyes that he wholeheartedly believed in what he was saying. There was no doubt about it. Ayana gave in, saying, “Okay, so you want me to stay here and watch Quan while y’all go get your daddy and stepmother back?”
Tramar smiled, thanking God and the heavens above for sending him a chick that would really be at his side when he needed one to be there and holding him down. “Could you, Ayana?” he asked. “I mean, I really feel like they up in there. There is just too many coincidences for me to really not believe that this Byron nigga ain’t keepin’ my family in his granny’s old house.”
“Well, you do what you have to, Tramar,” Ayana. “I’m just tired of you leavin’ and thinkin’ that you might not be comin’ back.”
“Baby, listen,” Tramar moved in closer to Ayana. “I know how you feelin’. I do. I’mma come back tonight, I promise. I’ve come back every time, ain’t I?”
Ayana imagined a standoff between Tramar and the Chicago Police Department. Sure, things hadn’t gotten that far yet, but there could always be a first time. Tramar interrupted her thoughts by kissing her big lips and grabbing a handful of her ass. “I promise,” he added.
Ayana finally calmed down and accepted that if Tramar thought it was a safe bet to getting his family back, then she needed to go ahead and go with his gut instincts. They’d never led them wrong before.
Tramar grabbed Jackson’s attention who had been standing off to the side while he and Ayana had their moment together. When Jackson came walking back up, Tramar looked at him. “Okay, nigga,” he said. “She gon’ stay here with my son while we go get my daddy and stepmother back. I know they in there, man. I’m telling you. I can feel it.”
“Okay, but there’s just one thing I thought of while I was lettin’ y’all do the cuddle thing and shit,” Jackson said. “I think we should ride by Byron’s house out north first. If we can see any signs of him being there, then we go back to his old granny’s house. That will at least tell us that he won’t be there. I was thinkin’ more about them dudes that we saw walkin’ in there.”
“Yeah, what about’em?” Tramar asked. “Do you think you know the niggas or somethin’?”
“Naw, I don’t think I know them,” Jackson said. “But I was thinkin’ that maybe them niggas be doin’ Byron’s dirty work for him and shit. I mean, I can almost guarantee you that he ain’t run up in your dad’s house on his own and take your family.”
Tramar shook his head. “You right,” he said. “He had to have help do some shit like that.”
“Exactly,” Jackson said. “And I bet you them two niggas is the help. You saw the way they was walkin’, like they ain’t got shit to do or nothin’ but wait on orders. I bet you that they the niggas that he got doin’ his dirty work for him and shit.”
“Bet,” Tramar said, kissing Ayana one more time. “Go ahead and get back up to the room. We will hit you up when we on our way back, Ayana. I promise. We won’t be gone that long.”
While Ayana was reluctant to do so, she forced herself to turn around and head back into the hotel. She glanced out of the door for a moment before getting onto the elevator. When Tramar saw his woman disappear onto the elevator, he turned and looked at Jackson. “All right, nigga,” he said, feeling pumped. “Let’s go do this shit.”
The two of them then hopped into the car. They pulled out of the parking lot and made their way to the highway. As they drove down the interstate, Jackson pulled out half of a blunt and smiled. “Nigga, we might as well smoke this shit before shit get crazy,” he said.
Tramar pulled out a lighter and agreed, taking the blunt and lighting it. For the next several minutes, they relaxed as they drove up to Byron’s house in the northern suburbs of Chicago. After sitting down the block for several minutes and seeing lights turn on and off with what looked like movement in the upstairs windows, they looked at one another.
“He in there,” Jackson said.
“Fuck, I wanna go kill this nigga right fuckin’ now,” Tramar said.
“No, wait,” Jackson said. “Let’s make sure we get your family and shit back first. Once we do, then we can get this nigga. ‘Cause if your family ain’t in that house and shit where we bout to go, then we still gon have to work our way back to him to find them.” He paused. “Let’s just not burn all of our bridges before we are sure we not gon need them to cross over.”
“Good point,” Tramar said. “Now, let’s head back into the city and do this shit.”
***
While Ayana’s mother, Neeci, knew that she loved her daughter as much as any mother in the world loved their child, she couldn’t deny that she liked having the apartment to herself. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she felt it was owed to her to have the apartment to herself. She’d raised that girl and had done everything in the world she could do to make sure that she had a halfway decent life. If Ayana couldn’t be grateful for that, then she would just have to learn how life was on her own.
Since it was Saturday night, Neeci had made it a point to have one of her friends over. She hadn’t been out of the house much since the fight that went down out in the hallway with one of her neighbors. The funny thing was she hadn’t even seen the chick since all of that happened. With her face still bruised up a little, she knew she wasn’t going to be brave enough to go out to a club and try to bring somebody home. Instead, Neeci poured herself a nice glass of wine. She sat on the couch and scrolled through her phone.