I cracked open another forty and plugged it into my mouth trying to silence the sobs before they began. I nearly drowned myself as my sorrow took hold of me full force and shook me like a broken toy. Beer sprayed everywhere as I choked on my own grief. I hurled the bottle at the swings a few yards away and felt a little better somehow to hear it shatter.
“Hey, bro? Are you alright?”
“What tha fuck is we doin’, Tank? What tha fuck is we doin’?” The tears were flowing freely and my chest heaved with sobs. I wanted to destroy whatever it was that was making me hurt so bad. My hands balled into tight fists and my forearms bulged. I wanted to find the pain and beat it down the way Huey had beaten down that White kid. But it was deep inside of me where I couldn’t get to it.
“How tha fuck did we turn into monsters, Tank? We were kids! Just a bunch of fucking kids! How did we get this way? We’re murderers, man! We’re fucking monsters!”
Tank looked at me and for once that cynical look of amused disinterest had left his face. There was none of the boredom and apathy that had seemed to be carved into his features, a congenital characteristic as much a part of him as his blue-black skin. Now, incredibly, his face showed compassion and understanding. It was obvious that he would have rather not ever have had this conversation and was conceding to it only because he sensed I needed it. He sighed deeply and looked up at the darkening sky. Then he took another swig of malt liquor and one more hit off the blunt. When he spoke his voice was slow and measured, heavy with emotion.
“Remember how poor we were when we first started doing this? Remember how things changed for us after we met Scratch? Like, things got better from day one. I mean, right after we did Meech, remember how proud you were to go to school in all those new clothes and not be laughed at for once? We finally felt like we were regular kids and not just some dirty little poor kid from the ghetto? Remember that feeling, Snap? I felt like somebody for the first time when we walked into school and all the kids were jockin’ our new gear. It was like my first shot of pussy it felt so good. Even the females were given me a little respect for once. Even our teachers looked at us differently. Don’t even front like you don’t remember how they used to look at us with disgust and pity. Most of the time they just ignored us completely like they just figured that stupidity and poverty went hand and hand. I wouldn’t have dared raise my hand back then because I never wanted to call attention to myself. But I didn’t even sweat walkin’ up to the blackboard to solve a problem when I was sportin’ Jive and Cross Colors. I’d have never done that in a pair of raggedy ass hand-me-downs because if anyone had laughed at me I’d have had to kill them. Those clothes, that money, it changed our lives man. I would have killed anyone, even you, to keep that feeling. But now man, sometimes I’d give anything to be that poor dirty little fat kid again. You think you the only nigga with a conscience? Shit, I still think about what we did to Meech. You blew his ass away right at my feet.”
I was in shock. It may sound stupid now…I mean human beings are human beings…but I would have never imagined that Tank worried about this kind of shit. He always seemed to be so unaffected by everything. Tank was human. My whole perception of reality changed with that one realization.
But if he was human how could he kill so casually?
The thought kept coming back to me as I sat there guzzling the last of my forty and wiping tears from my eyes. How could Tank spray a guy with that big ugly AK and then go get a cheesesteak hoagie and laugh and joke with the hoes up on the Ave.? How could he be so nonchalant about it? Then again, how often did I really sit and think about the fools I smoked? Tank said he still thought about Meech and I hadn’t thought about him in years. He had been a stepping stone and I had stepped over his corpse and forgotten him.
What was wrong with me?
“Man, I know. I felt the same way. You think I wouldn’t have sprayed this whole damn neighborhood for a new pair of Adidas? Shit, you ain’t got to think because that’s just what the fuck we’ve done. I got cops following me all the time, raiding my house, harassing my Mom and Grandmom. I got to watch my back all the time, scared some nigga’s relative that I smoked might creep up on me and try to get revenge. Did you ever stop and think about how many bodies we got between us? We out there droppin’ fools like flies and half of them don’t even deserve to get bodied. I’m sayin’, it’s like Scratch be havin’ us kill somebody every damn month like he’s got a fuckin’ quota to fill. I think he does it just to keep muthafuckas scared so they don’t fuck with him. We’re endin’ muthafucka’s lives just to build that White boy’s rep.”
Tank nodded in agreement.
“I know what you sayin’, dog. Shit, half the time I think he just be havin’ us body muthafuckas to keep us busy so we don’t turn on him. He’s one paranoid muthafucka and that shit worries me too. He might start thinkin’ we out to get him too and get us done one day. But man, we don’t need to be thinkin’ about all this shit. We in this now ’til the end. We can talk this shit, but ain’t neither of us goin’ back. You tryin’ to go back to bein’ nuthin’? I don’t think so. So why even sweat this shit? I be thinkin’ about quittin’ all the time, but we both done got too used to bein’ paid. Ain’t neither of us givin’ this up. So let’s stop trippin’ on all this depressin’ shit. It’s blowin’ my high.”
“That’s the problem, Tank. I can’t forget. This shit is eatin’ me up. I be thinkin’ I see ghosts and shit at night like followin’ me around and shit. And I ain’t talkin’ about when I’m asleep and dreamin’ neither. I mean I’ll be drivin’ around in my car and I think I see people that we smoked up and walkin’ around like they stalkin’ my ass.”
“Dog, you trippin’. That weed is fuckin’ with your head, Snap. Maybe this shit is too strong for you. What you trippin’ on all this shit for anyway? Was it what Huey said earlier? Forget that nigga! He so damned conscious, but he a killer his damned self. He was out there bodyin’ fools before any of us. Let somebody call him White boy or a half-breed and see if they don’t get smoked. Shit, he killed your fuckin’ Dad! I ain’t sayin that muthafucka didn’t deserve it. I’m just sayin’ that Huey ain’t got no room to be comin’ down on us about shit.”
“Yeah, it’s Huey, but it’s something else too.”
“What is it, man?”
“I know what our next job is.”
“What?”
“You know. I know you knew it was comin’ too. The whole neighborhood knows it’s comin’.”
“You mean Warlock?” Tank asked.
“Yeah man, everybody knows that he’s the one that cut up those dealers up on Duval Street. He gave them fools ear to ear grins. Fuckin’ stupid too. He might as well have autographed his work. Everybody knows he’s the only fool still runnin’ around with a blade instead of a gun. Everybody else got gats except for crackheads and hoes. And as clean as that cut was it wasn’t just some crazy crackheads or nothin’. That shit was professional.”