A Hot Mess Page 2

  Wiz was in the military and had just come home and got his new car. He was on Malaina as soon as he saw her. She tried to shoot him down, but he was so silly, they couldn’t stop laughing.

  He parked his car and walked with them for about twenty minutes, trying to convince them to go to a cookout with him and his friends. The girls finally agreed, then walked and joked with him back to his car, where LeMar sat patiently.

  “Can you go get my cousin?” Malaina asked. “We were on our way to see her.”

  “Sure. Where she at?”

  “Turn down there. She live in Wellington Oaks.”

  When Queen came out, LeMar’s eyes lit up like a child’s at a circus. Joy and Malaina were fifteen, but could pass for eighteen, but Queen was taller, darker, with long, thick hair, and her moms allowed her to wear makeup. All that, plus her thirty-six-D’s and big, wide hips, made most older guys ignore her age and slight belly.

  “How old are you?” LeMar asked.

  “Twenty-two,” she said easily, letting it roll off her tongue like it was the truth. “Why? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one, and my man Wiz, twenty.” LeMar turned his head to Joy and Malaina. “What about y’all?”

  “Eighteen, graduating in June,” Joy said.

  “Nineteen. Supposed to have graduated last year.” Malaina smiled. “But you know.”

  They all started laughing.

  When they arrived at the cookout, Wiz had Malaina’s attention, and she was enjoying herself as he joked, laughed, and entertained, keeping her close to him. And Queen had plenty attention coming her way.

  Joy watched as most of the men eased their way to her, realizing that the perfect size eight wasn’t what always got attention, but rather the ability to talk, flow, and flirt with the best of them. So even though Joy’s body was tight and her light brown complexion, long hair, and natural beauty gave her an exotic look, as if she was mixed with something, she let it be known her peoples were as black as they came, but were just blessed with enhancing features. Not to mention, she still had the New York attitude and hadn’t yet met the country nigga who could break it.

  Joy had fucked with three niggas since being in VA. A nigga from Norview who was getting it with coke, a dude from Chesapeake into counterfeiting—she never trusted his money, so that fell short—and then D-Nell from Lake Edward. All these niggas paid like they weighed, straight hustlers, but Joy had started catching feelings over that Beach nigga, D-Nell, until he caught that murder charge and disappeared out her life. Since then, nobody had come close.

  Joy sipped her wine and flipped the page. A feeling came over her body that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was from the sight of Minke with his arms wrapped around her the night of the cookout.

  That day Joy remembered, she sat watching her sister Queen work the crowd. She sat up straight with her drink in her hand in her white tee, snug Levi’s and new white kicks. She was about ready to go, until she heard four dudes coming in the backyard, one yelling, “Brooklyn.”

  She turned her head to watch the people show love. Two of the guys looked kind of grimy, but Minke and his boy Hitler were dressed in new shit, with jewels on from neck to wrist. She checked their style and felt back at home. She scanned the crowd and saw Queen talking to LeMar. Then she caught the dude who was reppin’ Brooklyn coming her way.

  “What up, ma? My name Minke,” he said, with his hand out.

  She looked into his low, slanted eyes, which he tried to hide behind the navy blue NY Yankee fitted that was pulled real low. She caught the white teeth, full lips, shadowed beard, and was instantly feeling this six foot one, skinny-ass nigga.

  “Alecia. Nice to meet you, Minke.” Alecia was her real name, and she used it with a nigga she liked.

  “Damn, girl! You took my fuckin’ line.”

  “Come with another one then. Been down here too long. Losing your edge. Unless”—she turned her head—“unless you one of those fake New York niggas.”

  “What you mean, ma?” Minke asked, admiring her style and sassiness. “Where you from?”

  “Brooklyn. Flatbush,” she said proudly. “And you?”

  “Fort Greene. I am Brooklyn, baby, born and raised.”

  “So what got you in VA? I know this shit slow to you.”

  “Yeah, but I’m in school here. I came down here to go to Norfolk State. I’m a junior.”

  “So, if you go to school, why you looking like you running the city,” she said with a smile.

  “Come on, ma, I just told you I’m a Brooklyn nigga. I’ma get it if I got to rob and steal,” he said with a slight grin. “Just like Uncle Murda.”

  “Who?”

  “Maybe you been down here too long.” Minke laughed.

  “And who rolling with you?”

  “You now. I came here because my man had something to do with it.”

  “Well, me and my cousins was asked, so we rode out here with Wiz and LeMar.

  “Yeah, Wiz my man. So what’s up with you, Alecia?”

  “Tell me, Minke,” she said with a smile.

  “Let’s go walk on the boardwalk, hand in hand, and act like we on Coney Island,” he said with a bright, irresistible smile.

  She looked at him with slight disappointment on her face. “I can’t just bounce with you like that.”

  “Why? Tell me why, and I’ll make it good. I want you to roll with me. I’m feeling you, for real.” Minke looked at Alecia with a serious face, shaking his head and licking his lips.

  “I got my sister and my cousin. We don’t leave each other,” Joy said seriously.

  “We can all go, ma. You straight. Let me introduce your girls to my son. Yo, H, come here.” Minke signaled his man.

  Queen and Malaina had seen Minke talking to Joy, and soon as he called his man, Queen eased away from the other cats and was making her way over to Joy. She had learned a lot about niggas in her young years, and two on one was not about to happen.

  “So what’s up, Joy?” Queen asked, coming up beside her sister, staring at Minke and his boy.

  “This is Minke and Hitler,” Joy said, pointing at the dudes in front of her. “And this is my sister Queen and my cousin Malaina,” she said as Malaina walked up.

  “We all out in a few.” Joy looked at Queen. “We gonna ride down the beach.”

  “Who the fuck these niggas? And we going where?” Queen asked in her hard New York accent, so they would know she wasn’t from down South.

  “Hold your mouth, ma. Watch when you speaking to a gangster.” Hitler smiled, revealing his gold teeth. “Don’t let the smile catch you slipping.” He stared at Queen.

  Queen never blinked as she stared back into Hitler’s eyes. “No, don’t you let the young faces fool ya. We seen your game, we know your game. Don’t take us for one of these country-ass VA bitches,” she said without smiling. “And I ain’t smiling, so you know that it ain’t a game.” She kept staring Hitler down.

  “This ain’t a game. We just wanna chill, create some fun. Niggas ball like that all day,” Minke said, looking at Joy. He was trying to ease the shit-talking between Queen and Hitler before it escalated to an argument. He was feeling Joy and spending some time with her was his mission.

  “We gonna holla at my mans and them then we out. All of us,” he said, hitting Hiltler and walking off.

  They watched as the two stylish niggas walked off.

  An hour later, Minke walked towards the gate to exit. He looked over at Joy and Malaina, and signaled for them to come on, pointing his fingers to the front.

  Queen had started talking to some other guy. When she saw Joy and Malaina going to the front, she looked over to see Minke, Hitler, and the other guy that came in with them standing by the front gate. She signaled to her sister that she was coming, allowing her new friend to talk.

  Hitler looked at Minke with a look of confusion and smiled.

  “Where you from, son?” Minke asked, smiling.

  With that, Hitler walked over
to Queen and whispered in her ear, “We out now.” Then he leaned back and stared in her eyes.

  “I said I—”

  “Your conversation is done,” he said. “This is my girl, duke,” he said turning to the dude she was talking to. He looked back at Queen. “And I’m not smiling, so that you know exactly what it is.”

  “Nice meeting you,” the guy said, extending his hand to Queen.

  Hitler pushed dude’s hand down, looked at him, and placed his hand on Queen’s waist. The guy moved on, and Queen walked towards the front.

  As they walked out to the front, Queen looked at Hitler as they approached Minke. “I ain’t your girl,” she said, staring at Hitler as he approached his burgundy 325 BMW with the slight tint, wearing New York tags. “Don’t you ever do no shit like that again.”

  “You are my girl. Now get the fuck in the car, before you end up in the trunk,” he said, opening up his door and getting in.

  Minke started laughing as he hit the alarm on the pretty canary-colored Milano.

  “Nigga, you done lost your mind,” Queen said, opening the door to the BMW and getting in.

  Malaina and Sizemo jumped in the back of the BMW. “Guess we rolling over here,” Malaina said.

  “Glad of that, the way this man talking,” Queen said seriously. Then she looked at Hitler as he started the car. He stared back at her. “So how many bitches been in your trunk?” She smiled.

  “I don’t know. Got to count the blankets in the back, see how many left.” Hitler smirked, pulling off behind the Milano.

  Joy looked at Minke as he drove the foreign car and leaned back like he was the coolest nigga, in complete control. “So, your boy was just joking, right? My sister hard as they come, because we’ve been through some shit, but she’s been through much more. Take a special type dude to get her attention.”

  “She all right. He like her. They just got to feel each other out,” Minke said. “Now tell me about yourself, Alecia.”

  “What you wanna know?” she answered softly, wondering what he was trying to pull out of her.

  “Just want to know who you are. I’m feeling you. We only talked a little, but I’m looking at you like I’m gonna lock your ass down.” Minke glanced at her.

  Alecia smiled. She was already feeling him. All he could do was enhance the feeling or totally fuck it up—no in-between. She began talking as they hit the interstate, headed to the oceanfront.

  CHAPTER 3

  Joy turned the page of her photo album. She smiled at the pictures of her and Minke leaning against the Milano as they stood in front of Dairy Queen. Then she looked at the pictures of Queen and Hitler. After they got past the arguing, they became inseparable, just like Minke and herself.

  Her eyes moved to the dry picture of Sizemo and Malaina. Malaina didn’t feel him. She still had her mind on Wiz, who had brought them to the cookout. Malaina just didn’t want to kill the opportunity for Queen and Joy to get with some real niggas. That was her style, roll with the flow.

  She looked at the next picture that her and Queen had taken a year later at their seventeenth birthday party, where they had a cookout at Wiz’s house.

  Wiz was from New York also, but he’d been living in Norfolk since he was twelve. His parents had moved from Jamaica, Queens to Norfolk. He always traveled back and forth to New York, and never lost contacts with his roots there. When he got into Norfolk State, he came across some New York cats that were getting it, so he thought he could save a trip, not money. But it wasn’t until he ran into Minke that his hopes came alive. Minke was hustling with a Brooklyn team that had come down from Bed-Stuy and had set up shop and was doing it big.

  Wiz knew Hitler’s man, Sleepy. When Sleepy ran into Wiz, it was over a bitch named Shaqvelle that was going to Norfolk State. Sleepy had fell in love with the pussy, while Wiz was just hitting.

  Sleepy, with the 9mm in his waist, waited outside Shaquelle’s door to confront Wiz. He froze as the familiar face came his way.

  “Wiz?”

  “Sleepy?” Wiz asked surprised.

  They hugged.

  “Yo, you fuckin’ Shaquelle?” Sleepy asked.

  “Fuckin’ the shit out of her,” Wiz said proudly. “Oh! Shit! That’s you, son?”

  “I been fuckin’ with that bitch for about a year,” Sleepy said to Wiz. “I was gonna lay a nigga down tonight. I was feeling this shit.”

  “Well, guess what, son? We go way back, and if she was worth shit, I would step back and say go for it. But grab your heart, my nigga. Bitch suck mad dick. Then I twist her ass every way but loose. And it ain’t only me and you.” Wiz smiled. He could see the hurt in Sleepy’s eyes. He knew Sleepy was one of those wild niggas, quiet, low-key, but treacherous.

  “I was feeling her, Wiz.”

  “So you go home, son. Get your mind together, get your heart together. Then come back and fuck the shit out her thick ass. Come on, man, let’s go.” As they eased away from the building, Wiz asked, “What the hell you doing in VA?”

  They caught up, and Sleepy introduced him to Minke. Wiz knew how to move, and hustling was his thing. Him and Minke became tight, and money was being made. So when Minke found out that Malaina was feeling Wiz, he was all right with that.

  After a year Malaina and Wiz were dating seriously, and he was treating her like a princess. Queen was serious with Hitler, who was controlling her in every way. Joy was still chilling with Minke at his apartment every day, and was six months pregnant. When Minke found out Joy was seventeen, he was totally shocked, but his love for her was unimaginable. He had fallen hard for her, and all he wanted was for her to feel loved and secure.

  Joy frowned at a photo of Hitler and Queen. He loved Queen with a crazy, controlling love, but she was never scared of him. He gave her the world, but beating her ass was a regular. She turned the page to see pictures of herself and Minke on their wedding day. After the birth of their son, he was feeling so much love and closeness, he married her at seventeen, with her mom’s consent. Queen was her maid of honor, and Sizemo stood as Minke’s best man.

  That was when Joy realized who was who. Minke and Sizemo were moneymakers, and Hitler, a Jamaican in the States illegally and with a don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, was their connect. Hitler made Sleepy his enforcer, but because of his love for murder, he ran tight with Sleepy.

  She turned the page, feeling her eyes getting heavy, but the pictures taken two years later gave her a big smile. That was the happiest time of her life. She was eighteen with two kids living in her three-bedroom, two-bathroom home with a gated yard and garage. It was 1991, and the year had just started. Malaina and Wiz were at their new home because they had the kids and no sitter, along with LeMar and his girl Taniesha. All of them would be graduating from Norfolk State in the spring.

  Joy missed Queen, but her and Hitler decided to do the new year in New York. That would be the happiest time of her life and the worst. She remembered the call they received on January 3, 1991 at 4 A.M. Minke’s phone went off, which it never did at that time.

  She stared over at Minke when he got the news that they found Hitler in his new Q45 shot up. He’d been hit seven times from the fifteen shots that ripped through his car as he sat at the light on Utica and East New York. The unknown woman that sat in the passenger side was later identified as Queen. Five of the fifteen shots had hit her at point-blank range. She never had a chance.

  Tears formed in Joy’s eyes and said a pray. Through her ordeals, she had come closer to God, but she knew she wasn’t where she should be, but was trying to get there.

  She said a prayer for her family, and for Scheri, and ended it by saying, “Watch over Minke, God. Watch over Minke.”

  Joy knew down inside that when Hitler and Queen got killed, something inside both of them had died. Queen was her sister, which said it all. But Hitler was more than Minke’s connect. They’d grown up in the streets of Brooklyn from six years old.

  Hitler and his family had moved to BK straight from Jamaica. H
is mother and four boys moved in the building right across from Minke’s family. At six they began to hang, by eight, Minke had taught Hitler more English than he knew. By twelve, Minke had learned to talk and speak patwa, so if he wanted you to think he was Jamaican, you would.

  By sixteen, Hitler had made his name, with killer instincts and the rude boy attitude, but Minke was more laid-back. He moved slow, moved smart, and only told Hitler about niggas fucking up, if necessary. By eighteen, Hitler was making major moves down the East Coast—Baltimore, Norfolk, Carolina, and Atlanta—while Minke was still making moves, and plenty of money right in Brooklyn. He was gonna go to college in the city. He wasn’t trying to leave because his money was flowing right.

  One day when Hitler was home, he told Minke that wherever he went to school, he would make sure he was okay, so go ahead and apply. Minke checked into some schools and had always heard New York niggas talking about VA. So he checked out Virginia Union in Richmond, and Hampton University in Hampton, and Norfolk State in Norfolk. After Minke hollered at Hitler, Hitler told him he didn’t care for Richmond, but he liked Norfolk.

  The following semester, Minke enrolled at Norfolk State University. Two months later, Hitler hit the scene. People had already begun to take notice of the slim, dark-skin nigga always wearing the Yankee fitted pulled low, and driving the bright yellow Milano. So when Hitler hit the scene with the BMW 740 with New York tags, niggas knew the kid with the yellow Milano was well connected.

  Minke ran with Hitler hard for the first semester, making big-boy moves, doing big-boy things. By the end of the semester, they had three of the downtown projects locked: Tidewater Park, Youngs Park, and Grandy Park, all with New York coke and heroin. Hitler had set it up to get rich, but Minke wanted something else. He didn’t trust Norfolk for dealing coke, and always told Hitler it was too small, but Hitler said it was easier to take over, so he did.