Authors: Miasha
A
day out of the hospital I was preparing to go Brock’s funeral. I was putting on my clothes slowly, partly because it was hard trying to dress myself with one arm in a sling, but partly because I wasn’t in a hurry to go bury my friend.
“The trucks are here,” my mom yelled up to me.
I was at my mom’s house. I came straight here from the hospital yesterday and spent the night. While I was in the hospital my mom had gone to my apartment and grabbed some clothes and personal items for me. I planned on staying with her and my dad until I healed some.
I looked out the window of my old bedroom. It was like a parade outside. Two limousines led a line of about two dozen tow trucks, the first truck being a flatbed with my old truck on top of it. Spray painted
on the windows was
R.I.P. BROCK
1983–2008
. And on the hood was an airbrushed picture of Brock.
“You all right?” my mom asked, as I walked down the steps.
“I’m cool,” I said, the depressed tone in my voice not matching my response.
My dad and my two younger brothers, who I wasn’t too close with due to our ten-and twelve-year age differences, came walking downstairs minutes after me.
“Yo, is that real?” my thirteen-year-old brother asked me, grabbing my wrist and examining my all-diamond Cartier.
“Yeah, dummy. Tell ’im, Nas. He don’t know nothin’ about ice,” my fifteen-year-old brother answered for me.
I chuckled at the two of them. They reminded me of myself when I was younger.
“Y’all go get in the limo,” my mom instructed.
They did what they were told, and then my dad and I followed suit. We pulled up to Brock’s mom’s house, and damn near the whole block was outside waiting to follow us to the funeral. Brock’s mom, grandmom, and sister got in the limo with us while some of Brock’s other relatives got in the second limo. Friends, neighbors, and distant relatives got in their cars and lined up behind the trucks. We all made our way to Calvary Baptist Church on Haverford Avenue, where Brock’s mom was a member.
The church was already packed before we got there. So when all of us got inside, it was overcrowded. A lot of Brock’s friends from his neighborhood were there. They all had on T-shirts with the same picture of Brock that was on the hood of the tow truck. I even noticed a lot of police officers present.
The family lined up in pairs to view the body before taking our seats. The hardest part for me was hearing Brock’s mom grieve. The cries that came from that lady expressed a pain no mother should have to bare. I thought about my own mom and prayed silently that she
would never have to lay any one of her sons to rest. I wished I could guarantee it, too, but the reality was we lived in a city during a time where death by gun violence was at an all-time high. And it didn’t even matter if you were doin’ dirt or not. You could get hit with a stray or be killed during a robbery or home invasion. It was that crazy in Philly. Niggas was shootin’ any and everything, in broad daylight, at playgrounds, outside of schools. It didn’t matter.
After the hour-long funeral service, we all gathered to go to the cemetery. My dad was one of the six pallbearers who had taken the coffin from the church to the hearse. Because of my injury, I couldn’t help, even though I wanted to.
At the cemetery the preacher said a few words, prayed, and then allowed for family members and friends to lay a rose on top of the coffin before it was lowered into the ground. It was then that I noticed Kenny. He walked up to the front, laid his rose, and glanced up at me. He had a smirk on his face. I watched him like a hawk while he parted back through the crowd to take his standing position on the outside of the huddle.
I was furious. I wanted to fuck Kenny up. How dare he come to Brock’s funeral? I didn’t want to make a scene at the burial, but I needed to get some shit off my chest. I needed to confront Kenny. I took a few steps headed in the direction of where Kenny was standing. But my dad came behind me, grabbing my arm.
“Don’t do it,” he whispered to me. “Not here, not now. Next thing you know, the cops’ll think you were a coconspirator.”
“What cops?” I asked, mad enough not to care.
My dad nodded his head as a gesture for me to look in Kenny’s direction. And walking up on Kenny were two plainclothes cops. They flashed their badges to Kenny and then escorted him to a silver Ford Taurus.
The distraction caused Brock’s mom, to stand up and start yelling, “IS THAT THE BASTARD WHO KILLED MY SON? I KNOW
HE DIDN’T HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SHOW UP HERE! IS THAT THE SON OF A BITCH WHO TOOK MY ONLY SON FROM ME? FOR CHRIST SAKE, THAT BETTER NOT BE!”
The preacher and others tried calming Brock’s mom, who couldn’t stop yelling and sobbing.
Meanwhile, Kenny shot me a nasty look through the rear window as the unmarked police car was being driven away from the burial.
I guessed it was obvious how pissed off I was, because my dad volunteered, “Don’t worry. We goin’ see that nigga. We goin’ get at ’im when he least expect it. Him and his rotten bitch. I knew she was trouble from the beginning. I should’ve followed my instincts and never hired her ass. ’Cause now I’ma have to kill ’er.”
I
stayed two nights in the hotel and then was able to go home. And not because Kenny was being detained, either, because the detectives had to wound up letting him go. When they arrested him, he surprisingly didn’t have a weapon on him. When they got a warrant to search our house, they found nothing. They tried for sixteen hours to get him or his brother Tim to talk, and neither of them did. Eventually, the cops had to let them go. They didn’t have any evidence to charge them with anything, and they explained to me that they couldn’t keep them without bringing charges up against them.
I was getting frustrated with the system and the cops’ inability to use the information I had been giving them. I was beginning to feel like I made a mistake by ever agreeing to be an informant in the first
place. It seemed like it wasn’t worth the trouble or the risks. I wanted to call it quits, but the detectives convinced me that I had come too far to stop now. They told me that they were extremely close to making an arrest, especially while Kenny was scared. They said criminals usually slipped up when they were under pressure.
So the last tactic they wanted to employ was something I was very worried about. I mean, it was already frightening enough to be a snitch, but Detective Daily wanted me to wear a wire and try to get a confession out of Kenny. I refused at first, because the danger in being wired was too grave. But after the detectives explained to me that Kenny was a flight risk and that if I didn’t help them get him within the net couple days, he would most likely flee and take me with him. I cringed at the thought of being on the run with Kenny and gave in to the detectives. I’d rather risk my life trying to turn Kenny in than be on the run with him.
The detectives spent a great deal of time coaching me through what I was to say, do, and how I was to act when I got home. They had me wear a covert body wire that would be almost impossible to detect. And considering the fact that Kenny would be busy trying to plan an escape, they felt I would be safe wearing it.
When I walked in my house, it looked like a tornado had hit it. The police ransacked it. Shit was broken, tossed around, and turned upside down.
“What the hell happened in here?” I asked, as if I didn’t know the minute I walked in the door.
I crept through the living room, kitchen, family room, and dining room, and when I didn’t see Kenny, I went upstairs. I got to our bedroom, and the door was closed. I opened it slowly and was greeted by the barrel of gun.
I was so scared I couldn’t scream. I just froze up.
“Shit, Leah!” Kenny gasped. “You almost got ya ass shot! Why you ain’t announce yaself?”
I exhaled and put my hand to my heart. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
Kenny put his gun back in its holster in the front of his pants. Then he got back to what he obviously was doing before I got there—packing clothes.
“The mafuckas came and snatched me up from the funeral yesterday afternoon. They had me at the police station for damn near twenty-four hours tryin’ to break me. And while I was in there, they got a warrant and tore the house up. Good thing I ain’t have shit in here,” Kenny explained, rushing his words to match the speed of his actions.
I was still startled from having a gun in my face, so I couldn’t focus on everything I was told to say and do by the detectives. I found myself just acting off my emotions.
“So what are you goin’ to do now?”
“I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here. My brother on his way here with a rental.”
“Why are you runnin’?”
Kenny stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. “What you mean, why am I runnin’? The cops is on my ass, that’s why!”
“But they don’t have shit on you!”
“As long as Nasir got breath in his body, the cops got somethin’ on me. And I can’t get at the nigga just yet.”
“Okay, so they got a witness. But it’s ya word against his. They can’t prove you did anything if you didn’t.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, Leah. I did do somethin’. That’s why the fuck I’m gettin’ outta here.”
I sat down on the bed next to the suitcase that Kenny was throwin’ clothes into. Being close to him was mandatory in order to get his
words clear on tape, the detectives had told me. But it was also a death trap, if you asked me. I was sweating profusely, and I hoped Kenny took it as my being scared for him as opposed to my being up to something.
“Yeah, well, they would have to prove it, and they obviously can’t if they let you go after interrogatin’ you for sixteen hours. But if you run, that’s half the proof right there.”
“And if I don’t run and they find my gun and run it through ballistics and see that the bullets match the one that killed that sucker-ass cop, and then they dust it and my fingerprints come up and they get a statement from Nas, then they got their proof and they got me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Why won’t you just get rid of the gun?”
“If I could I would, Leah. After I shot that fuckin’ cop, shit got chaotic. I was movin’ too fast. I thought I threw the gun in the trunk of the Impala, but when we dumped the car I didn’t see it in there. I don’t know if I dropped it or what. But I ain’t waitin’ around to see.”
I felt butterflies in my stomach. Kenny had just given me the confession the detectives needed. I tried to remain collected, though. It wasn’t over yet.
“Leah, look at me,” Kenny said. “The cops ain’t say nothin’ to you about me, did they? Are they askin’ questions about me or my brother?”
I bent my eyebrows and shook my head. I felt so much tension between us.
“You know I would fuckin’ kill you if you ever snitched on me? You know that, right?”
Ignoring the unimaginable fear I felt in my heart, I tried hard to display loyalty. “Kenny, I would kill myself.”
Kenny looked me in my eyes for some seconds before reacting to my comment. Then he smirked and proceeded to tell me his plan.
“I’m goin’ lay low in a hotel until Monday. I need you to meet up
with Sammy and get my bread. He goin’ have it all ready for you. Then you goin’ meet up with Dahwoo and he goin’ bring it to me. After you finish the shit you doin’ with the cops, you can call me and come to where I’m at. But I ain’t goin’ be able to bring you with me while you got ties to the law. I’ll get caught.”
“Okay,” I complied. Anything to get Kenny to leave so that the cops could arrest him the minute he turned the corner.
Kenny’s phone rang as he zipped up his suitcase.
“You outside?”
“I’m comin’ now.”
Kenny leaned down and kissed me on my lips. “I appreciate you ridin’ for me, Leah.” Then he left the bedroom.
When the alarm system alerted me that the back door had been opened, confirming Kenny’s departure, I didn’t hesitate callin’ Detective Daily.
“Did y’all get that?”
“We did. We’re tailin’ the car now. It’s almost over, kiddo.”
At that, I hung up with the detective and started packing a bag for myself. Freedom felt near, and I was itchin’ to get at it. I didn’t even care to leave the bulk of my things behind. I just needed a few necessities and some clothes to last me a couple of weeks.
I sent a text to Nasir just to clear things up with him once and for all. Then I called my mom to let her know that I was on my way over there.
I grabbed my overnight bag and headed out of my bedroom. When I got to the stairs, Kenny appeared out of nowhere.
“How did you know I was in interrogation for sixteen hours?” he asked.
I had a boatload of questions at that point: What was Kenny still doin’ there? Who were the detectives tailin’ if it wasn’t Kenny? Had he heard my call to Detective Daily? But even though I felt like I was caught, I couldn’t unmask the truth prematurely. When I first agreed
to be an informant against Kenny, I decided I was goin’ to ride it all the way out to the end. And that’s what I had to do.
“You told me,” I responded.
“I said I was in there for damn near twenty-four hours,” Kenny refreshed my memory. “How did you know it was exactly sixteen?”
I didn’t say anything, and my silence prompted Kenny to grip me by my neck. He pushed me against the wall, held his gun to my temple with one hand, and searched me with the other. When he came across the wire, he snatched it off me. My mind went blank as I tried to think up an excuse. And before any words could slip off my tongue, Kenny’s balled fist struck my face with so much force, it felt like I was hit with a brick. I instantly blacked out.
I
t was the day after Brock’s funeral. I had went home to get some more of my clothes. When I got back to my mom and dad’s house, I noticed several unfamiliar cars in the driveway. I parked my car and walked up to the door. I let myself in with the key I’d had ever since I’d lived there. I walked straight back to the kitchen. My mom was sitting in the breakfast nook drinking a glass of wine. My grandmom was sitting opposite her.
“Nasir,” my mom said at the sight of me. She stood up to hug me. Then my grandmom did the same.
“What’s up, Mom? What’s up, Grandmom? Where’s dad at?”
“All the men are out back,” my grandmom said.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, noticin’ tears in my mom’s puffy eyes.
My mom broke down. “Nasir, what is goin’ on? What are y’all get
tin’ y’allselves into? Ya dad won’t tell me anything. But he called ya uncles over here and some other guys, and whenever they’re around, trouble is right behind them. I don’t know what y’all are plannin’ to do, but I hope it’s nothin’ crazy. I came this close to losin’ you.” My mom held up her pointer finger over her thumb to indicate a pinch. “And I don’t wanna ever have to walk down that road again,” she cried.
“And God willing, you won’t ever have to walk down that road again.” I tried to comfort her. “You just trippin’, that’s all, Mom. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ happen to nobody.”
“I don’t know about that, Nasir. Your dad is steamin’. Whatever that guy Ken or Kenny did got him furious.”
My phone alerted me that I had a text message as I was trying to soothe my mom’s worries. It was from Leah. And the only reason I gave it my time was because I figured I could possibly use her to get to Kenny. Despite my mom’s concerns, I had already made up my mind that Kenny needed to get what was comin’ to him. That stunt he pulled in the hospital and then him admittin’ to killin’ Brock definitely put him on the hit list. And that wasn’t even my thing, but certain niggas left you no other choice.
Nasir, in case I never see you again, I need you to know two things: 1) I never had an agreement with the cops to give info on you, your dad, or anybody you’re affiliated with besides Kenny. I only told Kenny that so he wouldn’t wonder how I got out of jail without posting bail. He’s actually the one I’ve been informing against. When I left you at the hospital, I went straight to the police station and I told the cops about his involvement in Brock’s and the cop’s death, which explains why he was locked up at Brock’s funeral. 2) I really love you and hope you can forgive me for the things that I did do wrong. And when it comes out that I’m tellin’ the truth about this, I hope we can be friends again, if not for us, for the sake of our child. I’m pregnant, and in my heart I believe it’s yours.
I rubbed my mom’s shoulder and excused myself. I went into the
half bath on the first floor. I was agitated by the text message because I didn’t know if I could believe it or not. I didn’t know if Leah was playin’ me.
Kenny did get locked up at the funeral, and I hadn’t said anything about him when the cops questioned me, so how else would they have known his involvement? But then again, who was to say that the cops locked him up on that? Kenny was in the streets heavy, so he could have gotten locked up on a number of charges.
But on another note, Leah did say that she couldn’t leave Kenny because she was tied to him for reasons beyond her control. I was caught in the matrix. I didn’t know what to believe, who to trust, what to do.
And the more I thought about things and tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, the more confused I became. On the one hand, I didn’t think Leah was ever trying to set me up. I mean, she never pried for information. Plus, my pop and me wasn’t doin’ nothin’ like that. On the other hand, I couldn’t put shit past her.
Then this whole thing about her being pregnant threw me off. Why would she tell me that in a text? Why wouldn’t she have told me when I saw her in person at the hospital? I had a lot of questions for Leah, too many to text. I called her. Fuck it. If Kenny was near her, she wouldn’t have texted me.
The phone rang three times before somebody picked up. I waited to hear Leah’s voice, and when I didn’t I spoke, “Hello?”
I waited a few seconds for a response then I said hello again. No one responded still, but in the background I could hear screaming.
“KENNY, STOP, PLEEEEASE! KENNNNYYY!”
“Please, Kenny, don’t kill me…Please.”
My heart sank as I realized what I was hearing. I ran out the bathroom and toward the front door.
“Nasir, where you goin’?” my mom shouted out to me.
“To Leah’s house! That nigga is goin’ to kill her!”
My mom was yelling something to me, but I couldn’t hear her. I jumped in my car and punched the gas. It was a challenge trying to drive with one good arm, especially while holding my phone to my ear. I managed to turn my blue tooth on so that I could free up my hand. As I was straining to hear what was bein’ done to Leah, my other line started ringing. It was my mom. I ignored the call because I didn’t want to disconnect with Leah. I didn’t even want to hang up to call the police. And anyway, I didn’t have Leah’s address to give to the police if I did call. I just knew how to get to her house.
“This’ll teach you to wear a wire on me, bitch!” I heard Kenny’s voice in the distance.
Then I heard Leah’s voice, and she was much clearer.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. he maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”
I took a hard swallow. It became clear to me that what Leah had texted me was real and that it may indeed be the last time I got to hear from her. Tears actually formed in my eyes as I listened to her recite a Bible verse.
Having just laid my best friend to rest the day before and now hearing the one girl I can say I was in love with speak what sounded like her last words, my heart felt like it had literally broken. I’d never known such pain.
“LEAH!” I screamed with all my might. “LEAH, DON’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!”