Medusa E-Book

Robert Jenkins

• Herausgeber: Spines
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In the gritty streets of Hartford, the intertwined lives of Tracey Lee, his kin, and their community navigate the perilous pursuit of power, loyalty, and redemption. Here, personal dreams and the harsh realities of the urban drug trade collide, shaping destinies and testing the bonds of brotherhood, love, and survival in a quest for a sliver of light in the darkness of their concrete jungle. Amidst the chaos of this Connecticut underworld, each soul grapples with the heavy cost of ambition and the fine line between glory and ruin.

Leseprobe

Medusa

ROBERT & JUDITH JENKINS

Medusa

Robert Jenkins and Judith Jenkins

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2024 by Robert Jenkins and Judith Jenkins

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or localities is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Published by Spines Publishing Platform

ISBN: 979-8-89569-321-6

Contents

1. The Rise of Tracey Lee

2. The Struggles of Street Life

3. The Shootout

4. Betrayal and Loss

5. The Funeral

6. The Party and Its Aftermath

7. The Investigation

8. The Power Struggle

Afterword

About the Author

Chapter1

The Rise of Tracey Lee

Tracey Lee never thought in a million years, while growing up, that he would one day become the notorious, murdering drug dealer that the people of Connecticut would fear yet respect, but mainly the Hartford residence. His street fame grew quickly as he made his way to the top, becoming known in the game as the Medusa, with a squad of young killers just as wild as he was behind him called the Boulevard Crew. He would always walk the long way to Weaver High School from his family's small apartment on Garden Street. It was only so he could see what the streets looked like money-wise.

Tracey Lee hated that he and his two younger sisters were their kind of poor. It only caused them to have dreams and desires that didn’t look reachable, but fuck that. Come hell or high water, it wouldn’t be long before he knew what the good life looked and tasted like. He dressed his youngest sister Keke quickly to keep her from hearing the sexcapades going on in their mother's bedroom.

“Can’t stand that fuckin bitch,” he mumbled under his breath. He was really tired of all the bullshit of having a mother that was hooked on drugs. All the rumors, whispers, and gossip put fire in his eyes every time he thought about it. One time he overheard some guys talking about how good she was in bed and other explicit shit that made the young teen's blood boil with rage, and he knew then that when he got his shot, there was not gonna be any looking back. Big Shirley was just like the rest of the check-chasing drug addict mothers that plagued the hood. They tried their best to hold on to their looks as they swung narrow hips to the corner store. Hoping to catch the eyes of someone with a few dollars while they’d cop their loosey cigarettes while the child that was with them would eat chips for its breakfast.

Tracey Lee looked back to the refrigerator, but there was no hope there, empty as always. Well, except for the ice water, a huge block of state cheese, and baking soda. Government cheese that no one ate from, and you couldn’t even catch a mouse with that bullshit. He would joke to himself, then slam it shut. “Com’ere Keke,” he whispered, putting his finger to his lips to make sure that she didn’t say a word, as he pulled a small bag from a genuinely piss-stained mattress. “Which one of these do you want?” he asked.

Holding up two candy bars, Keke snatched the Pay Day from Tracey Lee’s fingers quickly as if she fucked around and held it too long; someone else might get the prize. More signs of a hungry, deprived 9 year old. “C’mon, Genna,” he yelled. Opening her bedroom door, to see a whole display of welts on her back and thigh. It was from last night, her punishment for not wanting to be nice to the man that Big Shirley brought home. He promised her all the money in the world if she could get the young girl to sleep with him. Big Shirley knew that her daughter’s fast-developing body was gonna soon replace hers and was trying her best to profit off of it.

Genna looked at her mother like she was crazy when she asked. “I’m not bout to,” was all she got out her mouth before Big Shirley jumped on her with the belt. “Hurry up, girl, so we can leave,” he said, tossing the other candy bar on her bed. Genna smiled, flashing her beautiful green eyes, while her light skin blushed. “Thanks, bruh, you always find a way, huh” Tracey Lee smiled back. He almost felt sorry for her. Genna was a target; he knew this only because she was growing up fast. The wolves of this concrete jungle would eat her alive. Genna was already fine but naive to the dangers of the streets. Tracey Lee knew he would have to protect her as much as he could. That’s one of the reasons why he would talk to her about the dudes in the street. “I’m tellin you, Gee, these niggahs out here gonna say whatever sounds good just to get up in ya pants, so you gotta know what’s real and what’s bullshit” Genna knew she wasn’t as sharp as her brother, but she knew he was right, he was always right. It was a rough life trying to stay alive, not knowing what your downfall might be, so the only thing you could do when you were starting off on the bottom was to start making your way up to the top. It was almost comical to her because she didn’t see any of the shit she read in any of the romance novels that Genna went through.

That shit was white people's stuff, she finally realized and stopped reading them because the girls growing up in her hood weren’t riding off with knights in shining armor, that’s for sure. The three of them hustled through a few of the shortcuts in the neighborhood that got them to Fox Middle School quickly, where Genna was doing her last year, and soon she’d be at Weaver with Tracey Lee.

“Ayo Genna, be out here when I come thru, cause we gon’ go downtown and eat today aight, ima try to trim the shit outta these cats at school for a few dollars, that’s my word.” Genna shook her head, yeah, then hugged him and Keke tight and watched them walk away. “Keke, that goes for you too, aight,” he said as they took a few more shortcuts. “Stay in front of the school like you always do and wait for me, even if I’m late; stay there, baby girl, okay? I’ll see you later, Keek.” Tracey Lee checked the broken watch in his pocket, then started to jog so that he could put his six dollars to the test with the rest of the morning gamblers. When he reached the high school, Tracey Lee didn’t waste any time with small talk. He went straight to the crap game in the back. He looked around to see if Marcus or Melvin were around; they always had money. They sold joints and stayed kind of sharp; he was better to gamble on their level than to fuck with the quarter and fifty-cent crowd. Tracey Lee’s eyes searched for Benny and Lil Troy, but he didn’t see them. He did spot Melvin on his knees in the middle of the crowd, controlling the dice. Tracey Lee smiled, making his way through the shit-talking and a nice pile of money on the ground that looked so sweet to him and even sweeter if they were in his pocket because he needed it more than anybody who was out there. “Bet a duce you wrong, Mel,” Tracey Lee said loudly. Melvin looked over his shoulder to see who said that. He looked up and saw Tracey Lee and the little bit of money that he was holding so tight and wanted that, too. “Niggah, you ain’t said shit; let's go. I’m takin’ all this money,” Melvin told everybody.

Tracey Lee dropped his money on the ground next to Melvin’s, then let his foot rest on it as he watched the dice leave the shooter's hand almost in slow motion. They tapped the ground for a few seconds, then landed on craps. “Yeah, yeah baby, that's what I’m talking bout; let’s get to it, baby, aight Mel run that shit back,” Tracey Lee told him but got ignored instead. Melvin was being smart right now. He knew niggas were hungry, so the best thing to do was wait and hit a number first before going offside betting. Melvin rolled the dice and made a six to defend.

“Bet I six-eight,” he yelled to anybody who wanted it. “I bet you won’t,” Tracey Lee bluffed, with a few others putting their money down. Melvin rattled the dice and released them. The two green dice skipped and bounced and landed, “Shit, that ain’t no six, my niggah, that's a fo, you betta add two more points to that one,” some random dude shouted, and Tracey Lee knew he was a greedy gambler and was gonna make him pay. Tracey Lee watched the dice as they left Melvin’s fist and got his prayers answered. Melvin crapped out big time. “My shot,” Tracey Lee shouted, grabbing the dice, and he wasn’t planning on getting off of them either. It’s one thing he knew if he didn’t know anything else, and that was cheating on the dice with his fake outs. He let it be known that he was shooting $5.00.

This was literally gonna separate the suckers from the hustlers, and when it was done and over with, he walked away with $65.00. Now, for the rest of his day, he can concentrate on the bigger picture. He got a fat joint from Melvin and ate lunch with his girlfriend Jackie; she was cool and didn’t care that Tracey Lee wasn’t the sharpest in the school. Jackie really liked him point blank, though she didn’t like the fact that they had no phone. She heard the rumors like everybody else about his mother. It was only because those kinds of secrets were hard to keep in the hood, fuck it, it was the price to pay living in the ghetto. Shit got that real sometimes.

Jackie backed Tracey Lee up into one of the blind spots and rubbed his dick until she could feel the pre-cum on her fingers; she pulled it out so quick and ran her thick lips and tongue across it without anyone seeing. “Damn, you need to chill out, girl. What the fuck we at school,” he told her. Jackie just smiled, “Can I see you later?” she asked. Tracey Lee nodded yeah and watched her swing her 'I already had a baby' hips down the hall. Tracey Lee lagged behind. He still had shit on his mind that needed to be sorted out correctly. Tracey Lee snapped out of his daze and saw it, just like he had many times before. It was the lunch lady carrying that metal box. It was a routine that he’d been watching for at least a month now.

“Man, fuck this. I’m getting this bitch,” he promised himself, then followed slowly behind her ending up in the same spot as always, but this time he really needed to know what this bitch did with that money at the end of her route. She hooked a hard right into the Home-ec classroom. He thought it was odd, or maybe he slipped up and missed it from before. “Got’cha ass this time,” he told her mentally, then walked to his last class for the day. The whole time that he sat at his desk, Tracey Lee’s focus was on that money box; he was so deep that he never heard the teacher's voice. He and his sisters needed every bit of that shit, “It’s goin' down, or I’m going down for trying,” he shook when he heard the bell ring. It was time to go; Tracey Lee moved quickly, avoiding any and everybody; the blinders were on, and he was focused all the way to the Home-ec room.

Tracey Lee searched the small room and came up with nothing, but when he checked the refrigerator and saw the padlock, he knew it was in there. He broke the lock off with a metal meat tenderizer, and a smile grew on his face as his heartbeat got heavier. Tracey Lee literally stuffed cold-hard cash in his pockets and left just as swiftly as he came. The coins were cold, but the $1,800 that he counted made him feel like the stars had lined up just right. Keke saw him before he saw her and started running towards him. “Look, Tracey Lee, look what I drew,” she practically yelled with a big smile that made her hazel eyes shine like expensive marbles.

“Yeah, let me see that, Keek.” he looked down at the paper, not really getting it, but who could understand a nine-year-olds scribblings other than a nine-year-old. “So, whuts this s’pose to mean” he joked with her while they walked. Keke looked up at him and smiled again, then explained that it was a picture of him fighting the monster that was trying to eat her and Genna. Tracey Lee twisted his face thinking that this was their mother, Big Shirley eating them alive with all her bullshit. He folded the paper and promised that he was gonna hang it on his wall when they got home.

Genna stood in front of the Jamaican Bakery, waving high in the air when she saw Tracey Lee and Keke coming her way. It put a real sour taste in Tracey Lee’s mouth. “Fuck is you doin', Gee? I said be in front of the school, not over here at the Bakery.” Genna tried to outsmart him quickly with a sad face and said that she was bored over there. Tracey Lee looked down at Genna’s hand and saw a soda and the older guy's wolfish grin as if he was gonna say something. “This mu’fucka got’chu that shit, and don’t fuckin lie to me either 'cause I’ll punch you in ya fuckin face out here,” Genna dropped her head, embarrassed. She couldn’t lie to her brother because he told her about the games dudes gonna play just because of her looks, and now here she was falling for it. Tracey Lee grabbed her by the throat quickly, “Yo, you better start listening to me. I’m not gonna have a trick for a sister, believe that”, he said, pushing her back on her heels.

“Give that shit back to that pervert, as mu’fucka matter of fact, pour that shit on the ground, and let's go. You don’t need shit from no niggah young or old” Genna poured the soda out; it made the guy want to kill this young mother fucker for fucking up his move on the mini Vanessa Williams looking girl. The old guy charged it to the game and walked away. Tracey Lee understood that he was really dealing with limited funds, so he had to really come up with something to achieve the financial strength that he and his family needed to survive. He picked Keke up onto the bus, making her laugh. He loved seeing her this way and would do whatever it took to keep his sisters happy.

Things were so bad for them around that apartment that happiness only came in short spurts. The ride to Salvin’s shoe store was a quick one, “Aight, c’mon y’all, we getting off here,” he told them. Genna started to ask questions about why they were getting off there and why they were even downtown in the first place. “Whut we bout to do, Tracey Lee?” Genna asked because she knew he’d steal something quick, and she wasn’t about to be a part of any of that. He looked at her with a stupid frown, “It’s a shoe store, dumb ass. Why else would we be here.”

“Oh, Big Shirley gave you money to take us shopping?” Genna asked. Which she shouldn’t have because the look he had given earlier couldn’t match this one. “She can’t be this fucking stupid,” he thought. “When that bitch ever gave us anything, huh, other than hard times and empty stomachs, whut the fuck is wrong wit’chu yo,” he laughed to take some of the sting out of his words. “Yeah, that's true, but so where?” was all she got out of her mouth before he shut her up. He didn’t wanna hear no more of her shit but assured Genna that he was taking care of things and not to worry and please stop asking him dumb shit.

“You gotta realize this, Gee, if that woman gave any fucks you think that she would try to offer you up to mu’fuckers that she brings home with her, huh, just think about that aight, fuck that bitch you hear me now let me do what I need to,” Genna shrugged, there was nothing else that she could say, he was in control, and Genna knew she just had to trust him. “What kind of sneakers do y’all want,” he asked them while they looked at what was on display.

“Y’all can get two pair of anything that y’all want,” Genna felt good; she was finally gonna get some shit that was in style. “Damn, if I ever have a man, he better be a thoroughbred just like my brother,” she told herself. It wasn’t odd to have black kids in the store by themselves to buy sneakers and shoes or even to try to steal a pair if they could. In fact, Sam got 90% of his business from the blacks and Spanish, especially on the first of the month. But it seemed out of place, Sam thought, because, to his knowledge, it wasn’t a check day. “So, how can I help you, young people, today?” Sam said with a stained teeth smile and beet red face, “Tell’em what y’all want,” Tracey Lee told them.

Keke and Genna brought him back to the window, pointing to what they liked, while Tracey Lee peeled off $500 real quick. He had to get a deal. When Genna and Keke took their sneakers off to get their feet measured, the socks they had on were full of holes and smelled bad for two girls. The old man wanted to say something, but then again, he wasn’t really that shocked to have these two pretty girls in his face with funky feet. Tracey Lee saw the old man twinge and his face get redder.

Tracey Lee’s heart broke, and he swore that he’d never let no shit like that ever happen to them again. He told Genna to get her and Keke two packs apiece of any kind of socks that they wanted. Sam watched this young man as he controlled everything with a calmness about himself and knew he was a sharp kid. Sam could tell that the three of them were related; they were all light-skinned with bright colored eyes. “Okay, so what about you, young fella? We got the ladies out the way now; what would you like?”

Tracey Lee never turned to look at the display window. He knew what was supposed to be on his feet; he asked for a size ten in black and white shell Toe Adidas and a pair of blue suede Pumas, then asked the lady behind the counter who moved extra slow for two packs of tube socks. Tracey Lee took full advantage of her disability and grabbed a pair of size three kids' sneakers, putting them in the small of his back, thanking the huge shirt he wore to conceal them, “Okay, here you go, young man,” Sam said coming back with his order.

Tracey Lee looked over the sneakers carefully, then found a spot of glue on one of the Pumas. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was big enough that he would make something of it in order to get over on the white dude. Tracey Lee kept looking and groaning, and then he started picking at the spot while Sam was ringing it all up. “Is there a problem?” he asked. “Yeah, how much is all this gonna cost me?” Tracey Lee moaned the words out. It was all a game and just got started. Sam rubbed his chin, then looked over the top of his glasses and said that with the socks it would be $300 dollars. Genna gasped loudly at the number. It sounded like a lifetime of money to her young, poor ears. “Aight, so what kind of deal I’ma get, especially after seeing all these irregularities with them.” Tracey Lee told him with a straight face.

The old man's face turned two shades of red hearing such an insult about his merchandise. “Irr what, irregularities what?” he studdered, snatching the shoe from Tracey Lee’s hand and looking for the flaw. “Nah, I’ll give you two seventy for all of this because I would really hate to have either one of my sisters goofing off, playing in these new shoes that they love so much, and end up getting hurt.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not your fault, sir. It can happen to any good business out here. It’s just sad that it happened here cause our momma always brought us here to shop as long as I can remember, and she always spoke very highly of this store’s quality to everyone in our neighborhood, but this c’mon man,” he said holding the sneaker up again to show that it wasn’t acceptable. Sam was now redder than he was when he smelled those funky feet from the girls. Tracey Lee knew he had him now. Sam rubbed his stubbled chin and managed a smile to get that money, “Yeah, this lil nigger sharp,” he told himself and then snatched the money from Tracey Lee’s hand and told them to get the hell out of his store.

Tracey Lee smiled on his way out of the store, then mumbled sucker under his breath, “Where you get all that from, boy?” Genna asked and got the same answer that she got before, and that was to mind her business. As they walked further down the street, he took the sneakers he stole for Keke from the small of his back. “Here, take these and put them on with a pair of those new socks, aight baby girl, help her wit that Genna and leave them o’l ones on the sidewalk cause that ain’t nothing but tomorrow’s trash,” Genna helped Keke quickly leaving the smelly old sneakers exactly where he said and they continued walking. Tracey Lee hurried them out of one store and just as quick into another, stealing and buying as they went. He watched them as they ate their McDonald’s without saying a word.

It had definitely been a long time since the three of them had eaten there. Genna couldn’t stop looking in her bags, finally, brand-name jeans. Tracey Lee even made sure that she had new panties and bras to match. Genna loved her brother. No one had ever done anything this nice for her. Keke’s thankfulness was all over her face; she even made Genna promise to do her hair so she’d be the cutest in school tomorrow. Tracey Lee even felt proud about what he had done for them, but when he counted the thousand dollars that he had left, that's when he knew the fun could be over really soon if he didn’t make something long-lasting happen. On top of that, he gave Genna a twenty just in case she and Keke got hungry again.

Genna took the bill, folded it, and tucked it away for safekeeping in the littlest pocket of her jeans. She knew how Big Shirley was; that bitch could smell money on a niggah easily as if it was her job. The black cloud that had escaped for a few hours had come back. When they got off the bus with plenty of bags from all the stores that the other broke kids wanted to shop at, they stood at the top of their street for a few seconds, then slowly walked to their building. Keke felt the eyes on her and clutched her bags with all her might. Even at this young age, she knew the neighborhood was cut-throat. Genna looked to her brother for some support because she knew when they got in the house, he wasn’t gonna stay inside long. They reached the top of the stairs and found the front door unlocked as usual. Tracey Lee turned the knob in what felt like slow-motion, and there was their mother on the couch, giving a guy a blow-job. The three of them stood in the doorway, frozen. Genna covered her face, blushing with embarrassment, while Keke cried loud enough to pull Big Shirley’s mouth away from the flesh. But all Tracey Lee saw was red; he was tired of this shit on so many levels.

Big Shirley held the man's penis tight in her hand and yelled, “If y’all don’t take ya fuckin asses back there to them rooms, ima get that god damn broomstick and whoop me some ass, just hold on daddy ima let’chu bust that nut as soon as these fuckin kids get out my damn face,” she yelled. The guy felt bad for the kids and tried to tuck his dick back in his pants, but she wouldn’t let him. “This bitch, got some fuckin nerve to keep jacking this niggahs dick off right in front of us oh hell nah, c’mon y’all,” Tracey Lee said, walking them to his bedroom. He searched in his closet hard until he found his aluminium baseball bat, “Shit bout to change today. I’m tired of this shit. That bitch gonna give us some fuckin respect round here,” he cursed as the blood in his body ran hot through his veins. Bringing all the hatred he held in for so many years, of being deprived of their fair share of what was for them and how they had been laughed at for being dirty. Fuck that; he and his sister had been treated like shit for too long, she didn’t show them any love, and they hated her in so many ways.

Big Shirley showed them that she only cared about her selfish needs. She went back to pleasuring the guy just as she promised him she would. She wanted that twenty he flashed her earlier, and god damn it, she wasn’t gonna let nothing fuck this money up. Tracey Lee came around the corner with his bat held high and ready to swing while Big Shirley sucked away, the guy looked up just as he climaxed and wanted to yell something, but she mistook his jerk as a compliment and continued to finish him off. He was trapped and couldn’t escape what was coming his way. “Get tha fuck outta my house, mu’fucka” he yelled. Big Shirley heard his voice along with a bone-crushing wack from her son's aluminium bat. The connection was so precise that it split the man’s head and mouth all together. “I said get tha fuck up outta here, didn’t I niggah” he yelled with more courage and authority, followed by another gorgeous swing that landed on his legs and stomach. “Sheit, god damn niggah, let me get my pants. I’m gone. You got me all fucked up like this, man”, he cried with blood dripping from his mouth. He stumbled around trying to gather his things, but Tracey Lee was so annoyed that he grabbed the guy by the neck and flung him out the door naked.

Fire shot from Big Shirley’s eyes; she couldn’t believe this mother fucker just did this shit to her trick, “Ima kick yo fuckin ass until that mu’fucker turns purple,” she growled and got up on her feet. “Nah bitch, not today,” Tracey Lee promised and sent a combination of jabs her way that connected to her face that stumbled her back on her heels. Big Shirley was stunned not just by the punches but by the fact that her son had actually hit her. Tracey Lee wasn’t even done yet; he swung hard to her stomach and dropped her naked body to the floor. This was the same woman who gave birth to him and loved him as a child, but somewhere along the line, something went wrong, and now she was paying for it in the worst way. “Oh, you ain’t that bad now, huh bitch, is you, is you!” he yelled, slapping her as hard as he could with each word that came out his mouth. Big Shirley tried her best to get him off her, but she couldn’t. He was strong with rage. “How you in here sucking on niggahs dicks in front of us like that like we ain’t shit, bitch you buggin' what kind of mother is you, you ain’t nothin' but a bitch so ima treat you just like one.” Tracey Lee let years of his hurt come out.

He told Big Shirley how selfish and neglectful she was and what she was doing to Genna and Keke wasn’t right at all how they were gonna look up to her as a woman. Big Shirley cried; he was really beating her ass with his words and his hands. Genna couldn’t take it anymore. She had to jump in and stop him because he was gonna kill her if she didn’t. “Okay, she got it, Tracey Lee, she got it cause at the end of the day, she still our mother,” Genna pleaded. He snapped his neck back to look at Genna, and all she saw was death in his eyes.

The gleam that was there earlier was gone. He was in another place, and that was somewhere really dark. “Bitch, remember this day, she saved ya ass,” he shouted with another slap, then turned his back on her and walked out. Big Shirley cried for him to come back and said that she was sorry as Genna helped get her battered body up from the floor. She looked at the damage that her brother caused; she secretly laughed under her breath but at the same time felt bad because he really beat her ass, and it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it either. Big Shirley sobbed as Genna helped her into the tub so she could wash her up, and all she kept repeating was that her babies didn’t love her anymore and that they were all trying to kill her.

Big Shirley just went on and on, “I can’t blame my son; he just showed me where I been wrong for too many years. Now I ain’t got no choice but to snap this yellow ass of mines in gear. I’ve been fuckin myself over and yall at the same goddamn time.”

“It’s funny, but he reminds me of yall daddy. I got caught up with all these sorry ass niggahs and that white man's poison and lost it for a while and really forgot what was more important, and that's my damn kids, so all this gotta change in order for me to keep my family.” Big Shirley sadly realized Genna wiped her bruised face thinking how she looked just like the lady down the street whose boyfriend beat the breaks off her ass in front of the whole block, everybody said she looked like she went three rounds with Ali, but maybe that's what it took for some women to get their shit together, Genna wondered but just as quick knew it was the gift and the curse that Tracey Lee kept telling her about.

It was hard being a beautiful black woman in a time when shit was really bad, but twice as bad for the light-skinned ones with those eyes. She was the one to be desired with her good hair, which was straight washed down from the slave masters who owned her ancestors. All kinds of situations that could’ve brought this strong woman and so many others just like her to stoop so low. Genna brushed Big Shirley’s long, thick black hair and smiled. They looked like sisters instead of mother and daughter. “Big Shirley, what them initials on ya chest stand for?” Genna asked. Big Shirley traced with her finger the three letters (T. L. C) and almost blushed at the thought. “These, they ya daddies initials (Tracey Lee Cummings), he was my heart. But tell you the truth. He fuck’d it all up for both of us when he gave me that fuckin’ white man's junk. He turned me out, so I worked the streets for both our habits until one day when I went for myself. I only tried that junk to please him. I could’ve had any man that I wanted and still can, but ya father made me believe that I could walk on water without drowning,” she said, laughing, then went back to her story.

It was a story about a time when it was so much simpler, when love was all you needed, and the rest would follow. She told Genna that their father was a smooth talker and one of the sharpest dressers in Connecticut and that handsome wouldn’t do him justice when you described him. A nostalgic smile rose up on her swollen face as Big Shirley walked down memory lane with Genna at her side. “But let me tell ya ass somethin’ now girl, don’t you let these loosey niggahs out trick you up on no bullshit, you a very pretty girl and if you ain’t strong, they gonna play you, and you bet not let nan give you them crackas poison either you hear me girl, cause a niggah ain’t got no fuckin’ love for you if he give ya ass that shit trust me.”

“You a strong young girl, and soon you will be a woman. You gotta understand these sorry niggahs out here, and when you do that, you’ll know how to be with them, cause they gotta lot of bullshit wit’em, I mean shit that will break you apart if you not smart either, and that’s street smart and them damn books that way you’ll always have ya own shit.” Wow, Genna thought. These were the first words of real wisdom that Big Shirley had ever given me in my whole life.

“Now that’s all right, and i’ma never forget this either. Shoot, I guess I was right that fist upside the head do be doing justice sometimes.” she reasoned, but it was really good finally having the opportunity to have a conversation with her mother that was a positive one. “So what y’all had all up in them bags I seen,” Big Shirley asked. Genna started by saying oh, Big Shirley then took it back and called her ma. She told her that Tracey Lee had taken them downtown after school and bought them clothes and shoes. “Oh, is that right? Well, he loves his sisters,” she said. Then she heard a noise outside the bathroom door and told Keke to come from around the corner.

Keke slowly walked into the bathroom with her thumb in her mouth and her hair half-done. “Don’t she look cute, ma. Wait till I finish them; you’ll see,” Genna said proudly as Big Shirley sat up in the tub to see that her youngest was fully dressed in a pink and white outfit and matching sneakers. “Hey, did Tracey Lee get that for you? You so pretty,”

“Uh huh, and I got more stuff in my room,” Keke answered. Big Shirley held her arms open wide to embrace Keke, who went right into them and gave her mother a tight hug and kiss on the cheek. It broke Big Shirley’s heart, but what really brought on the tears was when Keke whispered, “Please don’t fight with Tracey Lee no more. Please don’t cause I don’t like that.” The words stung, and Big Shirley soaked Keke’s small shoulders with her tears because she didn’t like it either.

Tracey Lee figured that Big Shirley had all that shit coming to her, and in his eyes, the shit was way overdue. “Shit, she did us fuck’d up, so I did fuck’d up, and to be honest, I really don’t give a fuck one way or the other,” that was how he saw it and left it like that. Some serious grinding had to be done to get his money right so this wouldn’t be the end of the shopping sprees. He looked in all the hot spots for Angel or his brother Lyfe but couldn’t find either one of them or anybody who worked for them and had some weight on them.

Tracey Lee stood in front of the pool hall, hoping that he would break luck and catch something to put him ahead of the fucking game to keep his ship from sinking. Tracey Lee heard a voice behind him. Some dude was calling him; he turned to face him. “Ayo, my man, you wanna toolie?” the dude said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He was an addict. Tracey Lee noticed when he gave him a real good look over, he could tell that he was sick and needed it bad. As he continued to look back over his shoulder, “Yeah, this niggah Feinin bad,” Tracey Lee told himself, thinking it could be a jack move, so he played the dude close. “Why what’chu want my man, let me see if it’s somethin’ I can fuck wit or not.” Tracey Lee was still thinking that this was a jooks and kept that guard up, cause addict or not, even this niggah was looking for a come up.

Tracey Lee used the desperation of the man against him and hurried him up so he could fuck up because if it was a jooks, they would wanna control the flow of things. “Com’mon niggah, I ain’t no fuckin Joe-Donut you bluffin where the toolie at,” Tracey Lee almost demanded and stepped close to him. The addict's eyes jotted left and right quickly as if he was caught and was looking for the door out. “Chill niggah, and back up, you all aggressive and shit,” he said, trying not to sound as soft as he really was. He pulled up his sweatshirt after another quick look around then back and pulled up a chrome 380 automatic and put it in Tracey Lee’s hand, making him smile. “Yeah, this tough,” Tracey Lee said under his breath, liking what he had in his hand. Now, it was time to get it.

Tracey Lee asked him two questions: how much he wanted and if there were bullets in the clip. He said yes to the bullets and one hundred and fifty for the gun. “Yeah, I heard you,” Tracey Lee said cocking it back. This was his gun now, and he wasn’t about to give this drug head shit for it other than a bullet. “Ayo, you a dumb ass niggah, you don’t never give a niggah a loaded tool for sale; this my shit now, and I guess you just gotta charge it to the game, so let this be a lesson learned,” he laughed and pointed the gun in the guys face. “Chill the fuck out, yo, and give me back my shit niggah”, is what he said, but when he heard the shot and the bullet whizzed past his head, he knew he played a suckers move and got taxed for it. “Damn, I fucked that up. I wish I had a heart like this lil niggah. Here I am try’na sell the toolie he out try’na make moves with it.”

He thought to himself and let it be as he turned and walked away. “Ayo, good look, my niggah.” Tracey Lee laughed out for the fear he put in the dude and knew that he had the power in his hand to control any situation that came his way or to give a niggah a situation that was in his fucking way. “Shit, I gotta find me some drugs to sell. It’s too many Feins out this bitch for me not to have something to serve’em,” As he watched them walking up and down Albany Avenue, he thought about how all this could be his money. His thoughts switched to the shiny red Mercedes that pulled up to the pool hall slowly, almost as if it had missed its turn from the exit ramp. But the jeweled dripping hustler that got out seemed to fit in with the scenery so beautifully, as if this was his hood, even though the Benz sported New Jersey plates. “Ayo young blood, um, let me holla at’chu for a minute, aight,” The dark-skinned diamond-wearing brother said with his finger pointed in Tracey Lee’s direction. But Tracey Lee didn’t respond fast enough. He was still lost in the luxury of the ride that he never heard the dude say shit until he had to repeat himself. “Say lil Niggah, what the fuck you booted or somethin blood,” it was a different kind of slang to him, so his response was wack to the hustler, who did indeed laugh to his adolescence and called him an offey, the shit only made Tracey Lee mad and squeeze harder on the gun that was in his pocket. He refused to be put down by anybody, big or small, and the ass-kicking that he just gave Big Shirley only opened the door, bringing him all the way out of his shell as a young niggah that was not to be fucked with. “Yeah, what’s up? You talkin' to me big time; what’chu need?” Tracey Lee asked, still a little dizzy from the Benz.

The hustler looked down on him; he wanted to call him a dirty lil niggah, but figured that his presence would do that anyway. “Check it, lil niggah, they call me Stack’em up bottom line, aight,” He said like the money man that he was, as he constantly flashed Tracey Lee with Clustered fingers as he talked with smooth words that only years in the game could create. “Listen, my man, I want you to peep game, aight? By chance, do you know this brother named Angel? He roll a big Benz too, but not as fly as that shit right there; ya digs me.” He bragged, adjusting his pinky rings and brushing shit off his clothes that wasn’t there. Tracey Lee watched him as he performed and thought he was an offey, “Nah, I don’t know that cat, he ain’t been out here, but if he pops up, I’ma be sure to let’em know how you out here screaming his name around tho,” he told him but couldn’t take his eyes off this cat, the smell of money was all over him, this dude was sharp from head to toe, wasn’t shit out of place on him, his name was definitely who he was and what the fuck he was about then it snapped, Tracey Lee out of being on this dudes dick.

He was looking for Angel, so most likely, he was buying something big or selling it big. If this was what it was to be plugged in, then fuck it, Tracey Lee was in. His palms started to sweat as he held the gun in his pocket while his mind raced in every direction. He knew this was the one that he had been dreaming about, so it wasn’t no way that he could just let this rich ass niggah get away, fuck that. Especially now that he had that firepower, he could knock this clown down quickly with a headshot. “Ayo, you must be my man connect, right? Yeah, I work for that dude. He been waiting for you,” Tracey Lee said, making it up as fast as his mind could put it together. Stack’em up, stopped in his tracks, and spun around on his heels quick. “What’chu say, lil niggah” Tracey Lee’s skin crawled at that lil niggah shit, and this dude had already said his fair share of that bullshit, and Tracey Lee wasn’t a lil niggah to nobody.

Now his mind frame was to get’em no matter what he had; it wasn’t gonna be any longer, “Ayo big man, I am fuckin buggin' yo we got this new weed man, and this shit is vicious, my bad yo you the reason that I’m out here, but I swear I heard him say, Black.”

“Yo, I swear fo Jesus, but’chu said ya name Stack’em up, and that shit could easily be mistook if somebody ain’t paying attention like they should be, again my bad,” he told him, praying that he’d fall for it and that he hadn’t played his hand too hard. Stack’em up, locked eyes with Tracey Lee, and tried to burn a new hole in his head to show his dislike for bullshit. “Lil niggah you out here playing wit my fucking money yo, that's some shit niggahs get killed for, or either for less and you,” He said, stepping in Tracey Lee’s face to make it personal, “And ya ass shit I eat lil niggahs like you for snacks,” Stack’em up pushed one of his diamond filled fingers in his chest to make sure that he got his point.

“Now you out here for me, then take me to my man so I can take care of my business and put’em on to ya dumb ass, cause I ain’t got no time to be fucking wit nobodies kids I ain’t no fucking baby sitter, and ima make sure that he dock ya pay for the whole fucking week too for this bullshit,” he yelled at Tracey Lee who really wasn’t listening. He was too amazed by the interior and how the soft Gucci leather hugged him so gently that it felt like he melted in it. Tracey Lee fell in love with this car even more now.

“Yeah, I gotta get me one of these mu’fuckers,” he promised himself. He had him now, and there was no turning back. Stack’em up fell for that bullshit too easy, Tracey Lee thought. Now it was time to shit or get off the pot. “Ayo big man, pull up in this parking lot right here,” he told Stack’em up as he led him to his demise, and if he wasn’t so mad at the young cat, he would’ve seen the jook move being put together before his own eyes. “This our stash house right here, plus we got another apartment in here where we bag up, but I don’t know how safe it’s gonna be now witchu pulling up in this bright ass mu’fucker, damn I should’ve brung you up here in my bucket I hope these cats don’t flip out on me because of that,” Stack’em up shook his head understandingly parking where he was told to and got out with the young wolf.

Tracey Lee felt jittery; the adrenalin was rushing through his body quickly; it was all or nothing, and no matter what this dude had on him, Tracey Lee was leaving with it, and it was gonna be life-changing. Life changes were exactly what he needed, and money was the only solution to all his problems. “Shit, I hope ain’t none of these fiends up around here, and peep this move being made,” he thought while they walked to the abandoned building.

This was a place where Tracey Lee hung out to get away from all Big Shirley’s crazy ass shit, so for him, this was the perfect spot to bring him to and do what needed to be done and leave with ease. “God damn lil niggah, fuck is you taking me?” he asked, but Tracey Lee turned around quick to shush him. “Ayo, you gotta chill the fuck out, bruh, I told you what this was. You ain’t see all those rental cars parked out front; we good right here, baby. This is where the magic is made; big shit go down right here, baby.” Tracey Lee assured him.

Stack’em up nodded in agreement, thinking that this was something that his boy Angel would do. “Dumb ass niggah,” Tracey Lee wanted to laugh and figured that he had walked him far enough into the basement, then spun on his heels quickly, pulling the gun out. “Where the shit at niggah huh, and you better tell me cause I ain’t got no problems popping ya ass either and believe that shit big time.” Stack’em up saw that gun pointed in his face, and thought that young blood just might pop off and do the damn thing. But if he could just reach his shoulder holster quick enough, he’d kill this lil mother-fucka with speed for even thinking that he could do what he was doing and then charge extra for the 10 kilos he brung for going through this shit.

But he had no idea that this little dude was just as hungry and deadly, and he wasn’t backing down or playing any fucking games either, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Tracey Lee was dead set on not leaving broke. “Where the fuck the shit at niggah? I ain’t gonna ask you again cause it’s about to get real ugly for ya ass, so either you gonna make my search an easy one or a hard one that’s up to you,” Stack’em up smiled. He actually admired the balls on the dude but wasn’t about to give him shit. “Niggah, I ain’t telling ya ass shit, so get it how you live mu’fucker,” He barked but kept his hands up high. Tracey Lee shrugged his shoulders and told him that was the wrong fucking answer.

Tracey Lee took aim and let one go, hitting Stack’em up high in the shoulder, causing him to spin and fall face first on the dusty floor, exposing the M9 Beretta hanging under his armpit. Tracey Lee was on him, quickly taking the gun before Stack’em up could think to yank it for himself. Now he had two guns pointing in his face, “Damn, playboy, you almost had me, but now I’m twice as nice,” he bragged. “Now, this is definitely the last time I’m asking, so where it at yo?” he knew as he lay on the ground that it was over for him, but maybe the niggah might be a bad shot, and he could make it out this. Then, he thought otherwise and dug deep in his pocket and tossed the keys at Tracey Lee’s feet. “In the trunk niggah, either it’ll be ya claim to fame, or ya fall from the game,” He moaned from the pain that had gotten worse, but not as bad as the sting of being a well-known drug dealer with goons that would kill for him at the drop of a hat, to be getting knocked off by a lil niggah that was on the come up with balls just as big as his.

“Okay, my niggah, good look, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you all slumped up like this,” he mocked. Then, he told him later gator and shot him in the face with his own gun, killing the old-school hustler. He stripped his body of all the gems, grabbed him by the legs, dragged him over to the huge drain on the floor, and let his body drop down the dark hole. Tracey Lee never looked in the gym bag; he tossed it over his shoulder, siphoned some gas out of the tank to set the Benz on fire, and walked away.

“Damn, this fucking bag got a lil weight to it,” he told himself while he walked down Homestead Avenue, stopped, and bought a padlock from the corner store for his room until he found a safer place than Big Shirley’s to sleep at. He could see the thick black smoke filling the air, then a loud explosion followed. Tracey Lee smiled, knowing that all the evidence of the niggah called Stack’em Up’s being was long gone. Genna and Keke played a few more hands of cards with Big Shirley, and now laughter had finally filled the walls in this once dark-clouded apartment. But when Tracey Lee opened the door, Big Shirley feared the worst.

Keke ran to meet him with hugs for her brother. “Tracey Lee, mommy got us a pizza. You want me to get’chu some 'cause it’s more, and we got soda too.” She asked. He told her that she could have his if she wanted it. “I gotta do something real quick, Keke, so go back in there with Genna and let me take care of this thing, aight Keek?”

“Okay,” she answered with a lot of disappointment in her voice. She really wanted him to sit down with them and eat as a family and to tell their mother that he was sorry for hitting her in the face like that. For her to be only seven years old, she knew too much about what was going on in their home, especially with the men that came and went, and more about the streets than she should’ve known for her age.

She even had little prayers that she’d say at night, asking the almighty to send them a better mother than the one they had. One who bought toys and food regularly, but when she would wake, Big Shirley was still there with the bullshit and drama. Keke never felt safe around any of the men who came in and out of the apartment; they always tried to be too nice with fists full of change or some funky wrinkled-up dollar. It’s another reason that Genna would stay close to her when they would come around and rock the hungry child to sleep. Tracey Lee still couldn’t believe his come-up was this serious. It was one hundred thousand dollars and ten kilos of raw ass cocaine inside the bag. Tracey Lee wanted to count the money again; he could not stop smiling. He was so hyped, but he knew he was out of his league and needed to learn quickly about the maintenance of cocaine, all the do’s and don’ts, not to make lots of money but to be able to handle something like this without fucking it all up.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and Tracey Lee’s mind was running nonstop in about a billion different directions because he didn’t want to fuck this up; no, he couldn’t fuck this up. He had to turn it into something bigger than what it was now; Tracey Lee looked over the gray taped blocks and bundles of money while they piled on his dresser. All of a sudden, his face got real serious, serious enough that it sat him on his bed to not just stare at the clutter on the dresser, but to look at it. Then, in it, to where he finally looked through and past it all and the true destiny, he even blushed at his own idea. Tracey Lee counted $5,000 quickly and went back to the Avenue to see if he could find Angel or his brother Lyfe. He wasn’t worried about his small treasure because everything fit neatly inside his mattress. Big Shirley didn’t say anything about the entrance or his departure. She already could tell that he ain’t have shit to talk to her about.

Nothing, not the clothes he got for his sisters or about the beating he gave her, but she was genuinely concerned about him and wanted to make sure that he was alright because she had done the math to everything that he got them and knew it was close to four hundred dollars or more worth of stuff that he got for them. This also made Big Shirley realize that all her bullshit selfish ways had pushed her firstborn into the streets to make some very serious decisions that could not be taken back so easily without his or somebody else’s blood being spilled for the cause. “I know my son stole and even gambled to survive, just to have what I didn’t give him and his sisters. He was a young man who was being ignored, and so were Keke and Genna. Lord, please forgive me for all this pain that I caused; please forgive me.” Big Shirley whispered while her head hung low. The more she seemed to reason with herself, the clearer the picture became.

It was so true that she had to change her life in order to save her family from going too far over the edge and restore her dignity as a woman. “He had every right to come in here and kick my ass from left to right, I can’t even blame him. Look how I been treating them.” but what she didn’t realize while she thought all this out was that this wasn’t gonna be the last ass-kicking that Big Shirley was gonna take from him. Tracey Lee had opened the door to his life that was making him dangerous in his command, “Say word niggah, you caught a money bag downtown for five G’s?” Lyfe asked again proudly. It was known that Tracey Lee and his little crew were good for pickpocketing and all the schemes that juveniles like him would do for pocket money, but a come-up like this was large for someone of his caliber. Lyfe smiled about the jooks; it was a beautiful thing showing off a mouth full of gold and diamonds while he rested his arm around the young buck’s shoulders.

They both stood equal in height, but Lyfe was huskier in size due to eating well all the time. He was just a few years older than Tracey Lee and had stopped going to high school a long time ago. Now Lyfe only went there either for some young pussy or to show off one of his tricked-out cars; Tracey Lee and other young up-and-coming thugs looked up to Lyfe as the model of what their lives should be. But Lyfe’s respect and hustle came off the back of his older brother Angel, who was a different type of niggah. Angel was a born hustler to the core; he lived just for the thrill of the flip; he was laid back and ice-cold but nonviolent.

His kind of money would get you seriously dealt with. Angel’s respect had deep roots throughout the state of Connecticut; it didn’t matter what it was, Angel could sell it, even if you knew it was garbage. But Lyfe, on the other hand, was the total opposite; he could be wild and hard to deal with at times. He was doing his best to get out from under his brother's umbrella of drug dealing; it was because of the rumors that with Angel as a brother, Lyfe wasn’t shit but another dude. He was, in their eyes, the man next to the man, something he hated and had to earn his respect the hard way. Even on the much lower end of the food chain, Tracey Lee knew this as he ran his game on him, but soon he’ll take the leverage he had to become so powerful that he could easily push the brothers right out of the game. In Tracey Lee’s mind, this game was for the sharks only, and these two niggahs were definitely not that.