Hezekiah 'Baby' Williams - renamed Hernandez - was kidnapped from his rightful mother and traded for lesser items when he was only an infant child. Santana 'Smoke' Hernandez, the owner of an illegal pharmaceutical business, with the exception of oth...
"Im not sure. Ryder said a junkie traded him in for three condoms and a small glassine bag of dope. Left the kid with him. We wanted to know if you knew about any adoption agencies."
"Adoption agencies? What's wrong witchuu? Huh? You know how I feel about that shit." Smoke scolded the woman. He sighed and ran his hand down his angular face. Smoke was a handsome man. Actually, handsome was an understatement. He had smooth, caramel skin, a full beard that connected from his side burns down to his chin and around the perimeter of his mouth. He had brown eyes that hid behind almond shaped slanted lids, heart shaped lips and hair that always remained in braids that went straight to the back and crept down the somewhat long length of his neck, the braids curling up at the ends.
He knew and understood what the new wave of hairstyles for men were. The twin man-braids and the tapered box cut. Those were just two of the most popular but he considered himself to be an OG and he liked to keep things simple and original.
"Bring the lil nigga to me." He ordered her. She obliged immediately and placed the still baby into his lap, a thin blanket wrapped around him. Smoke placed his two first fingers onto the babys' pulse and froze to see if the baby was breathing.
He nodded to himself and tightened the blanket around him.
"Santana, are you going to keep him?" The woman asked.
"No." he answered quickly. He stood and went into his home with the baby, the woman following behind him like his shadow.
"What am I gonna do with a baby? The life that I live is entirely too risky for one. Can't be putting nobody in danger but myself. Get Ryder on the phone and tell him to call that Junkie up. We need to talk."
• • •
Smoke had only waited fifteen minutes before there was obnoxious knocking on his door followed by unintelligible rambling.
"Aye, smoke, the kid ain't mine. I just wanted my crack rock. That's all." He heard someone yelling behind the front door of his home. He took his time walking over to it and opening it.
Ryder, Santana's right hand man, had Ditsy shackled up in his embrace. He'd tried to fight out of his grip but it was of no use. Ryder was a built man as opposed to Ditsy who was scrawny and looked as though a home cooked meal or two would do him wonders.
"Nile, grab this man a glass of lukewarm milk and a few cookies. We're going to be here for a while," Santana gestured toward both Ryder and Ditsy.
"Have a seat." "I gots shit to do, man." Ditsy objected. "Nothing important, I bet. Sit him." Ryder had almost been successful with getting the filthy man to have a seat onto his suede plush sofa until he realized how unkempt he was.
"Know what, never mind. Let em stand." "What beef you got with me, man? Santana, I just wanted to get my rock and go. What's so bad about that?"
"The problem is that you traded a fuckin kid for some crack. And I honestly don't care but don't be doing shit like that with my peoples. I don't want no parts of that shit, do you hear me? I don't want no affiliation. I run a clean business here."
"Man, I got you." He scratched his neck and tried to shrug out of Ryders' grip. He was unsuccessful.
"What you want me to do with the kid, anyway?"
"That's your son. You figure it out. I just don't want no parts of the shit, Ditsy. I can't fly with this shit."
"That ain't my son. I don't know who he belongs to. I just seen him in the hospital and got an idea." Ditsy shrugged as though what he'd just said was the most natural thing in the world.
"I can't believe this shit right now, slim. Do you know how serious this is?"
"If I say yes will you get this meaty ass nigga to let me go?"
"Let em go, Ryder, but I promise if you try to run off that's the end of you."
"I don't take threats too kindly, Smoke." Ditsy shrugged his shirt back into place on his body, scowling a bit.
"And I don't make idle threats, Ditsy. You know that shit. I come through on any promise I make." Ditsy knew he wasn't lying. Ryder, Smoke and Ditsy actually grew up together in the same hood: Breezy Heights.
They attended the same high school and used to be somewhat close. Of course Ryder and Smoke were best friend's first and remained that way until graduation but in the midst of it all, Ditsy let the hype he was apart of get him caught up and there he was; walking the streets of New Orleans every night looking to get his next fix.
He had a whole career ahead of him. Nobody in the school could touch him when it came to basketball. They used to call him Ditsy the Don cause he was just that smooth during the game. He could shake your ass up so bad, you might break an ankle trying to keep up with him. Towards the end of his senior year, his mother discovered that his father was having an affair with the greeter at their local church for 2 years. His mother succumbed to the madness and literally lost her mind. It broke her. She got strung out on that shit and eventually, Ditsy followed. Not intentionally of course.
His mother foolishly left her shit lying around, the debris got on his fingers, he ended up ingesting the shit somewhere down the line and that was the end of Ditsy the Don.
"Do you have any fuckin idea what kind of hole you just dug yourself into?"
"Like I said, he's not my baby." "Okay but you kidnapped someones' child. What part aren't you understanding? Do you know anything about this kid?"
"I seen his name tag." Ditsy mumbled, shame washing over him.
"What you waiting for? Christmas?" "Hezekiah Williams." "Hezekiah Williams." Smoke repeated to himself.
"Ion know what the fuck Ima do. I can't give it back to this fool. I can't turn him myself because that'll cause authorities to set up an investigation which'll eventually lead them back to me either way and everything I've worked hard for will be destroyed."
"I can search for adoption agencies and attempt to turn him in." Nile suggested.
"It looks like that what we'll have to do." Smoke finalized.
"Where will he go until then?" Nile asked. Santana thought for a small moment and then looked around.
"I purchased a get away home right outside of Breezy Heights." Santana sighed as if he was about to make the worse decision of his life.
"We can station him there until we get some more information on him and where we can send him off." Nile nodded.
"This is a Godly thing you're doing, Santana." She told him.
Santana scoffed and chuckled a little. The irony, right? A non righteous man who didn't really know if he knew God or anything about him was being complimented for doing a Godly thing. Funny.
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