The Weight Watchers

Chapter 7: pork

       Six weeks after Mar was killed, I still couldn't find this nigga Juice. Half of Mar money, the $85,000, I gave to his mom for her to keep. The other half was used to pay for his funeral. It ain't cheap to die. Even the cheapest burial is a few thousand. Ro ain't been around. I saw him after the funeral but, that was it. N.R. been in the gym heavy, his stress reliever. My stress reliever was on fire being inhaled.
       Lately I been catching these youngbuls trying to sell they shit out here without permission. One of these days the gonna push it and get they ass bussed. Especially after I finally got my phone back poppin' after catching up with all my old players.
        At the moment I was sitting in my car with the a/c on high listening to Pusha T, waiting for N.R. to show up. I don't sell coke or dope but, this nigga rapping, you gotta love'em. N.R. arrived with Ro. They hopped out his Audi, jumping in the car with me.
      "Long time no see Mastermind." I said to Ro sitting behind me.
      "Pork, wassup bro. The Mar situation had me messed up for a while. Everything back in order though. I been spending all my time hunting niggas to keep busy. I got some shit lined up. I know we still gotta get Juice. I just needed things to die down first. You know I try to stay away from the drama. You can't run forever though."
      "Ro, I never started running."
      "I called my lil homie Savage." N.R. added. "He on his way down here since I heard Juice little bro out the hospital. In fact that's him right there."
       We all got out the car as Savage parked.
      "Wassup wit' y'all, y'all good?" Savage asked shaking everyone hand.
      "Naw we need to find this nigga Juice." I replied.
      "Snatch his little brother. Or his mom. He'll pop out then. I can take y'all up there now."
      "Ard, let me put this bag in your trunk." I had a duffle bag in my trunk I ran to go get that held a few guns. "Pop the trunk." I yelled.
      "Hold up! I got a nigga in there. I almost forgot."
      "A body?" N.R. asked Savage.
      "Naw, he alive. Some dumb ass youngbul around my age that slapped my cousin Bianca. I made him strip and get in the trunk."
      I can tell they didn't believe it just as I didn't by the expression on their faces. Savage hit the trunk button on his alarm pad. He wasn't lying.
      "Get your bitch ass out my car."
      "Come on Savage I ain't got no clothes on. That's why I ain't pull the trunk release handle." The youngbul said.
      "You thought I was gonna drop you off at a place of your destination? If I put you back in there you ain't coming out again. You ain't getting another chance like this."
      "Can I get a newspaper or something, please?"
      "You want a bullet? That'll cover all that shit in blood. You better not touch my cousin again. You got lucky because these three."
      The youngbul dropped his head after thanking us and began to walk away in shame. 5'4 Savage kicked the 6ft youngbul in the ass, thigh actually. I like this little nigga. It was about 80 degrees outside meaning everyone in the projects were out and all saw him.
      "Aye, mister! Yo! I'll sell you my pants for $10."
      "He ain't got no money stupid. He ain't got no pockets." Two kids on pedal bikes said riding by laughing. I was even laughing as we piled in Savages car. Ro hopped in his Audi.
      "I'm going to catch up with y'all. I gotta go meet somebody about some important shit." He said pulling off. What could be more important than this. I shrugged it off. Reem was number one priority in my mind.

                                                                                         ________________________________________
                                                                                                                       Ro

       I went to meet Arty at One Stove, the restaurant that's an extension of Club Minaj while they went to find Juice little brother Reem. Arty was alone when I got there which was odd.
      "Sit down youngin'." He said as I stood shaking his hand beside the table. "I heard about your homie. Sorry for your loss. It comes with the game though. I lost a homie back in '86 that I'll never forget. Did a bid for me and all. Came home doing too much and got smoked. I still wish he would of came to me before robbing that number house. Anyway..."
      "What's this about Arty? Where Josh?"
      "Upstairs drinking. I never got to show my gratitude for what you did for Katrina, saving her and all. I appreciate you coming to get me."
      "No problem. It was myfault she was in it."
      "It's the game we play. You gotta be more careful. I got caught slippin' before. A few times niggas tried they hand but, it is what it is. Listen, I got an opportunity for you."
      "What kind?" I asked.
      "The kind you into. A sting for you and your team. I know what you little niggas do. Half a million dollars. 50 bricks. I want the work. Y'all keep the money. That's if you wit' it. All you gotta do is hit them at the meeting point out by the airport. How you do it is up to you."
      "When?"
      "They meet once a month. Actually twice but the other swap is never accessible. This is easiest route for y'all to get away clean. I handled the hand work so you wouldn't have to. The other meet is for a heroine swap. I don't want none of that risk. Y'all are taking the coke. I'm getting the date and exact location of the meet?"
      "How?"
      "Don't matter. Do you want it?
      "Yeah."
      "Ard. We hitting next months drop so you got time to plan."
      "Who are they?"
      "Some young chick and her two homies. Three people. Two cars."
      "I'm in."
      "Call you soon."