Sensitive boy.
What he’s got to be sensitive about could be debated. Me, I was in that hole. I saw. I got through it without blinding my remaining eye, and you don’t hear me complaining. But Digga’s his own man with his own concerns.
– What color?
– Not sure I follow.
He puts a finger in my face.
– Don’t pull that ignorant white bullshit with me, muthafucka. You know what I’m askin’. What color them kids down there in that damn hole?
I pick a flake of loose tobacco from my lip.
– I only saw a few.
– Give a shit how many, give a shit what color.
I flick the tobacco flake from between my fingers.
– Color of naked rats raised underground. That color.
He takes his finger from my face, looks me over, leans back into his seat.
– Muthafucka. An you ran away.
I know what I did, so I don’t contradict him.
He looks out his window, up the slope of the park.
– Uh-huh. Joe muthafuckin’ Pitt. Uh-huh.
I smoke.
He fiddles his cuffs.
– People lookin’ for your ass. Be happy to find you in the open. Where they can get a clean shot off. Wrap your ass up, sell it to the highest bidder. Rake some much needed coin for up here.
I nod.
– Maybe swap me for some of that Coalition blood.
He makes fists again, but doesn’t use them.
– Muthafucka always got to be pushin’ shit. Can’t let it alone. Try to tell a muthafucka a thing and he’s got to open his mouth and let out whatever stupid smart-ass shit in his head. Make a man want to pummel. Paste your ass right on the sidewalk. Smear you all over for the dogs to lick up. Damn!
I nod again.
– Yeah, sounds like me.
He opens his fists.
– Shit. Predo and the Coalition. Terry and Society. Every other muthafucka wants to get they hands on your ass. Fuck ‘em.
He looks at me.
– Did alright by me. Alright by the Hood. Last time you were up, did what you said you would. Played your part in complicated business. I don’t like you, that’s beside the point of this shit. You did alright by me. And I don’t pawn the asses of people do alright by me. Mamma didn’t raise me like that.
He squints.
– Just tell me what your ass is doing up here and get that shit over with.
I adjust the strap of my eyepatch.
– I’m looking for a girl.
His eyebrows go up.
– Shee-at. A girl. Joe fucking Pitt looking for a girl. What a girl got to have to get your ass interested?
I hold a hand in front of my stomach.
– This one has a baby.
His lips go thin. He shakes his head.
– Shit. That chick. Should have known.
His head shake shifts to a nod.
– Cuz don’t trouble just like to run around with trouble.
– Could use you in this.
– Negotiation isn’t my strength.
– Like I want you openin’ your ass to talk. Could use you to fill in for muthafucka with his throat tore out.
I turn my head to look at the small group of young men and women on the sidewalk. Pacing, bouncing on toes, chain-smoking Kools. Black Ecco down jackets. Timberland boots. Baggy jeans. Informal uniform of the Hood rhinos.
I look back at Digga.
– Seems like you have an escort already.
He looks at his people.
– Escort. Gonna be me escorting their asses is what it’s gonna be. Soldiers got to feed an I keep em fed. But not all what they need. An they all cherry anyway. Hardly a one done the deed. Frontline rhinos almost all takin’ dirt naps already. We staked our position, said straight up we were standing with the Society, and Coalition dropped hammers on us. Went all tense on the border down at Fourteen, but they didn’t cross the line, not in any fuckin’ force. But us? Like they was ready. Jumped One Ten and muthafuckas was all up in our shit before we turned around. Had our shit scouted deep. Safe houses. Doors busted in, enforcers came through. We were flat fuckin’ pants down for almost a week. The smoke cleared, all we had time for was to get the bodies in the river before they could start to stink. Keep from attracting too much attention. Some gun killin’ uptown, the law doesn’t pay too much mind. Lets that shit settle itself out. Think it’s all drugs anyhow. But some of the shit enforcers were layin’ down, that would have drawn some long looks those corpses had turned up. Had to go whole hog after that shit. They had addresses, we had some of our own. Sent some heavies down. See how they like gunplay on the Upper East. See how Predo bags that shit an keeps it out of the paper an off the police blotter. How long his payola keeps a lid when some muthafuckin’ co-op boards and neighborhood commissions start they bitchin’.
I rub my bad knee.
– How’d that go?
He smiles.
– Not too bad. Lost some boys I couldn’t spare, but sometimes you need to sacrifice a knight to knock off some pawns an shit. Get the other player’s attention. Let his ass know good an well you ain’t above doin’ some foolish shit if it means you can draw a little of his blood. Predo got busy hisself, dealing with some community relations, ditchin’ some stiffs. Eased off on those incursions. Mean, we still light the shit up, but ain’t no nightly event like it was for a while.
The knee is stiffening up, too much time sitting.
– And downtown?
He doesn’t smile at that.
– Downtown. Fuckin’ Terry Bird. Sends that Miles chick up here, gets me all riled an shit. Then what? Sits on his ass and says, Actions need to be coordinated and timed for maximum effect. Shit like that. We’re getting our asses starved, an he’s fuckin’ coordinatin’ an shit. Muthafucka. If I didn’t have issues with the man before this shit, I got them now.
I flex the knee and it feels like gravel.
– Lydia has a tendency to rile shit up more than Bird wants.
He bats the air with the back of his hand.
– Lydia muthafucka and her systemic misogynism of the African American male bullshit. Give me that, no judgments, but the fact of alternative lifestyle intolerance in your community is indisputable. Make a man want to shoot. An bullshit anyway. We got the gay up here, no doubt.
The knee doesn’t feel any better. I need to walk it around.
I put my hand on the door.
– Not that I don’t enjoy catching up and all, but I was asking about the pregnant girl.
He’s looking out at his people.
– Yeah, yeah. Got your own griefs, huh? Pregnant girl. Pregnant with what is the issue. Shit we don’t know an don’t understand about ourselves, any wonder we’re still fightin’ each other? Vampyre on Vampyre violence, whatever the color, it just makes shit sense.
He tugs at his lower lip.
– Somethin’ like this comes out of the woodwork, bound to stir up feeling. Uninfected girl with an infected baby daddy. I’d already heard the nonsense being talked downtown about them. Nothing like a baby to make people see visions of the future. See salvation or new Armageddon. Me, I don’t read it that way. See just plain trouble. Horny kids got themselves a baby they didn’t plan on. Everyday trouble up here. Least the boy seem like he wants to stick it out. They always do till the first diaper. But those two, living in a fantasy land. Feedin’ the noise. Bird may think he can use ‘em as a symbol, but they got their own damn ideas. Come up here talkin ‘bout how that baby is a bridge to the future. Saw them, the look in their eyes, like they just got out of church, full of the Lord, said, Aw no, fuck this shit.
He lifts his hand, drops it.
– I told Percy to keep ‘ em wrapped. Too hot to have that shit at my elbow. People all worked up about that shit. People lookin’ for signs and portents, all they need is to hear that girl talk about her baby being The Uniter. No chance. Told Percy they could stay, but keep ‘em down low.