Jazz: Vol 3 of the Still Waters Series

Chapter 15

I watched Wally B as he walked up and sat down on the crate next to me. He didn't even look at me. Just pulled out a joint and lit it, then sat back against the wall puffing thoughtfully.

He stared silently up at the sky.

Then he handed the joint to me and turned his body toward me. He was about to talk serious, so I turned to face him, too.

"Hey, sis..." Wally B leaned in closer to me and put his hand on my knee. Then he turned back away from me and started staring up into the sky again.

I did the same.

"What's on your mind, kid?" I tried to say it in a playful tone, like he always said it to me, but I knew Wally B had something serious to say so it came out sounding more impatient than anything. The suspense was killing me.

Wally B turned to me again and handed the joint back to me. He put his hand on my knee one more time and I leaned into him like we were plotting. I thought he was about to finally include me in on a plan.

"Remmey had to make a run. He gone be gone for a while."

I just stared at him.

That was the last thing I expected him to say.

"This serious, yeah." He looked deep into my eyes. He knew I was hurt. And he knew I thought Remmey and I were more than we actually were. "He didn't tell you." It wasn't a question. Wally B knew he didn't tell me. That's why he was back there looking for me.

I shook my head no and turned away from him. Then I sat back against the wall and stared up at the sky.

I wanted to leave, too.

"I'm sick of this place," I whispered quietly to myself. Wally B nodded in agreement and patted my knee sympathetically. Then he leaned in closer to me.

"Jazz...he a killer." My eyes shifted silently over to him. "I told you that." I nodded and looked back up into the sky. He did tell me that. I couldn't be mad. "Bid'ness always come first wit' him. Always. It have to."

I looked back over at Wally B and nodded again. I understood. He had already laid the whole game out for me.

Several times.

I hadn't forgotten what he said. I just...I don't know what I thought, but I thought Remmey could be...mine.

I shook my head at myself for thinking that anybody could be only mine and looked back out into the endless sea of clouds. This reefer wasn't strong enough.

I needed something else.

"Jazz..." Wally B just let me have that whole joint and lit up another one for himself. He read me and knew what I needed. "Remmey bring in money for the Organization. A lot of money. That's how we stay strong."

I nodded. I never knew that for sure, but kind of figured that's why he had started coming around more.

"He run that side, I run this side. But we both...in that." I sat back forward and turned in toward Wally B. He had never talked business with me before. "We both in it." I nodded. I was following. "I don't like it, he do." I nodded again. "I wish it could all just be the Organization. I'm for the People. Not...this other shit." He shook his head and looked away, puffing and blowing smoke up into the air. "But it gotta be this way, Jazz. Ain't no other way." He leaned forward on his elbows, like how I was sitting, and looked back over at me.

"I'm sick of this place, too, little sister." My eyes widened in surprise. No one would ever known that. Wally B moved like a machine. You never saw him tired...or sad...or mad. He just...kept moving.

And never stopped.

It was easy to forget that he was just a kid, too.

"I'm real tired, Jazz. Real tired." He leaned in toward me and rubbed his hand up and down my back. "I know you are, too. But we're gonna make it, little sister." I looked over at him and couldn't stop my heart from sinking even further. Wally B could usually make anyone believe that the world was theirs, but not this time. "We are. And we're bringin' the People up with us." He looked at me a little while longer and then took his hand away from my back.

We both looked out into the day and didn't say anything after that. I think this was the first time Wally B realized his two worlds didn't jive. They collided with each other over and over again. You couldn't feed the People poison and good food and then say you were taking care of them. It just didn't make sense.

He was being pulled in two totally opposite directions. And it was wearing on him. I could see it all over his face. He was going to have to pick one side or the other. He couldn't straddle the fence too much longer.

It was killing him.

The fact that there was no money without blood, and no Organization for the People without money was killing him.

I watched the setting sun reflect off his face and knew that I was looking at greatness. He didn't belong there with the rest of us. He was too big for the Organization and even for Baton Rouge. He needed to get out of there, just like I did, before the fire that made him dream so big for the People turned into a hatred for what made us, us. He had to get out of there before he gave up on his dream of a better world for all of us and went straight to only caring about the money.

Like Remmey.

Because it was in him to do that, too.

Truthfully, Wally B and Remmey weren't that much different. Wally B was a street nigga through and through, just like Papa always said and thought he was. But he wanted to be something different and do something different, and he was always trying to get all of us to ride that train with him.

That was the difference between Wally B and everyone else. That was the only difference that kept Wally B in the spotlight and Remmey in the shadows. Wally B wasn't just out for self. If he made it, he wanted our entire race to make it, too.

That one difference was what made people like Wally B a bigger problem to the status quo than people like Remmey were. People like Wally B were always...eliminated. Immediately. As soon as other people started listening to them and saying their names.

Like Fred Hampton.

Wally B talked just like Fred Hampton.

With power.

And conviction.

Wally B was very convincing when it came to moving large groups of people all at the same time.

Like Lil Bobby Hutton.

Like Jesus, according to the Bible.

People who talked like that, and who people followed, were always removed from every situation.

Quickly.

By any means.

And people like Remmey were always given more and more to work with. More money, more weapons...more poison.

That's just how the Establishment worked.

And that's why Wally B knew that he could never get completely out of that side of things. Even if the momentum of the Organization, and maybe even of the entire Black Power Movement died out completely, Remmey's side of the machine would just keep on rolling forever.

Poor Wally B.

His dream never had a chance.