Eastside (29 page)

Car Wash
East Houston Street

“I'ma go get some quarters from inside the store,” Peaches told them. “Hold on, girl, I'm a go with you,” Poison said. She turned to Travon. “Baby, you want something outta here?”

Travon shook his head. “Naw, I'm cool.”

The girls turned and walked into the store, which was adjoined to the self-serve car wash. It was a large car wash, with ten carports. Travon and Lil Fade stood outside of the small car, neither one speaking to the other.

Travon dug inside his pocket, pulled out some change, and inserted two quarters; instantly, the high pressure hose came alive. He turned the knob that controlled the hose's functions, to the setting marked soap. He lifted the hose from its rack, and began spraying the car. After several moments of awkward silence, he turned to Lil Fade.

“Lil Fade, what happened last night?” Travon asked.

“You know what happened last night, Blood,” Lil Fade answered. “We handled our muthafuckin' business.”

“What happened to Tangela?”

A sinister grin spread across Lil Fade's face. “It's a bloody story; you might get queasy and throw up if I tell you.”

Travon's nostrils flared. “Don't fuck with me, I'm not in the mood for any of your bullshit-ass psychopathic games! Just tell me what the fuck happened!” Travon stopped spraying the car and stared at him.

Lil Fade pressed his hand against his chest. “My psychopathic games?” He shook his finger at Travon. “You're the one who killed those people, one by one.”

Travon shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention back to the car, where he started spraying again. “Bullshit! I was too drunk, I couldn't have.”

“You did. You was so determined to get Dejuan, you took out anybody who got in you way.” Lil Fade began following Travon around the small red car. “You're a pure killa now, Baby-Low.”

Travon shook his head. “I knew I wouldn't be able to get a straight answer from you. You're all caught up in your twisted little games.”

Lil Fade placed his hand upon his chest again. “I'm twisted? You killed them, not me.”

Travon stopped and stared at him coldly. “And Dejuan, who killed him?”

“We did, together.” Lil Fade's smile returned. “For the first time last night, we acted like true homies. Afterward, we celebrated by going on a little joyride. We took our little trip. The one I promised you when you were in jail. We rode by people in the streets last night, and each time we were about to pass one up, you decided whether or not they should live or die.” Lil Fade's smile widened. “You killed mercilessly.”

“Bullshit!” Travon walked away. “I'm through talking to you.”

Lil Fade quickened his own pace, remaining just behind Travon. “I'm not bullshittin'; we took a hell of a ride last night.”

A red Mustang GT convertible passed by the car wash, and Lil Fade hurried out of the stall so that he could be seen.

“What's up, Blood?” He waved his hands through the air, beckoning for the vehicle to return.

The Mustang's brake lights flashed, and the car quickly turned down a nearby street.

“Who was that?” Travon asked.

“Just the homies from the Rigsby,” Lil Fade answered.

Travon shook his head. “Damn, what's taking them so long?”

“Shit, they probably in there shopping, you know them,” Lil Fade answered.

The red Mustang pulled into the parking lot.

“Aw shit, there go the homies right there,” Lil Fade told Travon.

Monsta was first out of the Mustang, followed by Tate. When Travon saw Tate, he began walking toward him. Peaches and Poison exited the store.

The Mustang was parked between the girls and the wash stalls where Travon and Lil Fade were standing, and as a result, the girls were able to see what Tate was hiding. Peaches' eyes flew wide.

“Lil Fade, look out!”

“Yeah, niggaz, what's up?” Monsta shouted, as he pulled a nine-millimeter handgun from his waist and began firing.

Lil Fade grabbed Travon, slung him back, and bore the brunt of Monsta's flurry of bullets. Travon fell and quickly began to crawl away.

“This is for Suga!” Tate shouted. He lifted a small sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun and fired.

The blast swept Lil Fade off of his feet. Travon, who had crawled out of the wash stall, now stood up to run. Monsta fired at him, but missed. Chips from the concrete wall struck Travon in his face, as the bullets from the nine-millimeter ricocheted off of it.

Tate ran up to a badly wounded Lil Fade, who was lying next to the Metro. He stood over him, and gave Lil Fade the second barrel of the shotgun from point-blank range. When Tate turned to run back to the Mustang, Poison was standing there. She fired once, and his blood and brain fragments sprayed the wet concrete walls of the wash stall. Peaches stood next to the Mustang, where inside Leonard Wright lay dead against the rear panel. Monsta fled on foot.

Poison began scanning the area. “Tre. Where's Tre?”

Peaches ran to where Lil Fade was lying in the stall. “I don't know, girl. I don't know.” She dropped her weapon and knelt down beside her man.

“Tre! Tre!” Poison screamed. She quickly began moving from wash stall to wash stall, searching each one. She walked to the last stall and peered inside, where she found Travon seated on the ground, rocking back and forth nervously. His hands were cupped over his face, and his entire body was shaking.

Poison knelt and wrapped her arms around him. “It's okay, baby,” she whispered softly. “It's all right.”

“I got caught slipping,” Travon told her. His voice broke with each of his words. “I didn't bring my strap, and I got caught slippin'.”

Travon stood, walked to the far wall, and began kicking it. “God damn it! I know better than that!”

Poison rose. “Tre, it's okay.” She walked to where he was standing.

Travon turned and stared at her coldly. “Is it? Listen.”

They stood in silence, and both could hear Peaches crying loudly.

“Oooooh, girl, I'm coming!” Poison ran out of the stall with Travon and into the one where her friend was crying. When she arrived, Peaches was seated in a pool of blood with Lil Fade's head in her lap. Her pants and shirt, as well as her hands and face, were covered with blood.

Travon walked to the stall where the girls were kneeling and trying to care for Lil Fade. He watched for a moment, and then placed his arm against the wet concrete wall, where he leaned his head against it. “He pulled me out of the way,” he told them softly. “It should have been me.”

Travon shook his head. “Again, it should have been me.” Tears began to flow, and his body began to shake violently. “Why? Why do I keep getting chances?”

He turned, slowly walked out of the stall, and peered up at the beautiful clear blue South Texas sky.

“What is it that You want from me?” Travon shouted. “What is it that You want me to do? I'll kill! I'll kill! I'll do whatever You want! Just stop killing everybody around me!”

Slowly he fell to his knees, and laid his head down upon the concrete. Tears poured from his shaking body. “Please! Please.”

Aunt Vera's House
Days Later

T
ravon pulled up to the house, climbed out of his vehicle, and walked inside. The house seemed empty. No one was sitting on the porch, no one was watching television inside of the living room, and there was a general absence of noise.

Travon climbed the stairs to his room, where he pulled some clothing from his closet and tossed it onto his bed. He then walked to his dresser, removed some underclothes, which he placed on top of the others. He folded his clothing into a large bundle, struggled back down the stairs, and headed out the front door. This time, Darius was seated on the porch.

“You still hiding?” Darius asked him.

“I didn't come for any shit, I just came to get some clothes,” Travon replied.

“So I guess that means yes.”

Travon halted. “I don't need the lecture, and no, I'm not hiding. I'm taking it to them niggaz, and if you would come down off of the fence, we could get this shit over with. It looks to me like you're the one hiding.”

“I've heard about some of your little escapades,” Darius sneered. “You're out there shooting at everybody and building quite a little name for yourself. You shootin' at C-Low, Slow Poke, and Jermaine in the East Terrace. You're shooting at Snuff Dog, Lil Bullet, Lil Anthony, and Short Texas in the Courts. You're even into killing Bloods now, huh? I heard you shot up Pork Chop, Monsta, Daryl, and Filou yesterday. You're a real bad-ass now. I guess Too-Low would be real proud of you. Everybody is running from, or trying to kill Baby-Low. Congratulations.”

“Jealous?” Travon asked.

“Jealous?” Darius rose from the porch banister. He pounded the air with his fist and his voice trembled with fury as he spoke. “Hell no, and fuck you! I don't want it, Tre, I never did. And the little shit I did do, I can't even do that anymore. I can't do it anymore, I can't.”

“So you let Taariq talk you into that Muslim shit, huh?”

“It's not shit, and yeah, I've been going by the mosque to hear the imam speak. You should come with me one day.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Travon began to walk away.

“Lil Fade is awake now,” Darius told him.

Travon stopped, paused for several seconds, and then turned back toward his cousin. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“You could go see him,” Darius told him.

“What for?”

“Well, for stepping in front of that pistol for one,” Darius told him sarcastically.

Travon shook his head. “I didn't ask him to. I didn't ask for any of this shit!”

Darius jabbed his finger at him. “But you got it, so now deal with it!”

Travon sat his bundle of clothing down on the porch, and then lifted his arms high into the air. “What do you want from me, Darius? What?”

“I want you to come back across the line. We do what we have to do, to protect each other and survive. We don't go out and just blow people away! We never did that!”

Darius jabbed his finger through the air toward his cousin. “You crossed the line, Tre. Just like Too-Low crossed the line, and Lil Fade crossed the line, and a whole lot of other muthafuckas just like y'all, crossed the line!”

Travon jabbed his finger back at his cousin. “You never said shit to Lil Fade about it! So why are you giving me a bunch of shit?”

“Because you're my cousin and I love you,” Darius told him through clenched teeth. “There's a difference between how I feel about you and how I feel about Lil Fade!”

Travon sat down on the porch steps. He lowered his head into the palms of his hands. “I don't know how to come back, Darius. I'm afraid.” He lifted his head and peered over his shoulder at his cousin. “How do I come back?” he asked softly.

Darius took a step toward his cousin and opened his hand. “Come with me tonight, Blood. But first, go and see Lil Fade.”

Travon frowned. “Why?”

“Because, regardless of what he's done, he's still the homie. Besides, you owe him at least that.”

Travon swallowed hard. “Have y'all already been up there yet?”

Darius shook his head. “No, I just found out a little while ago. His sister called; she was trying to get in touch with Capone.”

Travon lowered his head and stared at the ground. “I can't face him,” he whispered.

“I don't see why not,” Darius told him. “You've become just like him.” With that last biting remark, he went inside, leaving Travon sitting on the steps.

Brooke Army Medical Center

Fort Sam Houston Army Post

Travon paused at the door. “I've got to face him. I've got to face him,” he whispered.

He pushed open the door to the room and stepped inside. Lil Fade was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by a forest of electronic monitors and intravenous drip machines. There were tubes and electronic patches all over his heavily illustrated, pale body.

Lil Fade writhed in pain.

Travon walked to the bed. “Lil Fade,” he called to him in a low, soft tone.

Lil Fade opened his eyes. They were bloodshot. He turned his head toward Travon and smiled.

“What's up, Blood?” he said, greeting him, in a hoarse, low tone. “I knew you would come.”

“How did you figure I would come?” Travon asked.

“Because you let me get into your head, you let me get into your soul.”

“Tell me why I shouldn't kill you?” Travon asked. “Because of you, Tamika's dead. I tried to run from you, and Dejuan killed her.”

“Blood in, Blood out,” Lil Fade told him. “I never said whose blood it would take for you to get out.”

Travon stepped forward. “You made me kill those people. Because of you, a lot of people are dead who shouldn't be.”

Lil Fade swallowed hard, and shifted his gaze toward the white ceiling. “Tre, if you killed me, I would consider you to be an angel of mercy. I would also die happy, knowing that BSV has you know, Baby-Low.”

Travon shook his head and began to pace near Lil Fade's hospital bed. “I'm not no fuckin' Baby-Low. I don't want this shit. Mika's dead, Too-Low's dead, and the people who killed them are dead. I'm through.”

Lil Fade smiled. “I see you've gotten good at killing. Aaargh.” He writhed in pain. His hand grabbed a small rectangle-shaped box lying next to him. He pressed a little white button in the middle of the box, and this button sent a signal to the computer controlling one of his IVs, telling it to release more morphine. After a moment, he was able to speak again. He opened his eyes, and turned his attention to Travon.

“Baby-Low, you killed those people, no one made you. And you felt satisfied when you did it. You are who you want to be.”

Travon took another step toward the bed. “You stepped in front of the gun for me. Why?”

“BSV for life,” Lil Fade said softly.

Travon shook his head in disgust. “What happened to you?” he said through clenched teeth. “Why are you like this? What made you become like this?”

“Like what?” Lil Fade asked.

“A monster! A cold-hearted fuckin' monster!”

Lil Fade laughed, and pain shot through his body. His breathing became labored. “Look at me!” he commanded. His voice was raspy, clogged, muddled. “I'm an albino. I was born a monster. I'm a nigga with blue eyes and white skin. Do you know the hell I went through growing up? You'd be surprised at the names kids can come up with. I've been hating for a long time, Tre. I've been immune to feelings for a long time.”

Travon frowned and tilted his head to the side. “You confuse the hell outta me. You're smart, but sometimes you talk like you're not. You use your intelligence to fuck with other people's heads. Since you like that shit so much, why don't you go back to school and become a shrink?”

Lil Fade smiled. He waved his hand at the blankets that covered his body. “Pull the covers down,” he told Travon. “Pull this sheet all the way off of me.”

Travon stepped forward and pulled the covers down. There was a large pink spot on the bandages covering Lil Fade's stomach, where the shotgun blast hit. Travon's gaze walked down Lil Fade's body, and saw that his right leg was missing below the knee. Travon's eyes flew wide and he jumped back. Once he became conscious of his actions, he stepped forward again.

“It's okay.” Lil Fade nodded and turned away from Travon. “I feel like running away too. It's over for me, I'm finished.” Tears streamed down his face.

Travon closed his eyes for a few moments, searching for the right words. There were none. He waved his hand over Lil Fade's body. “It's not over. All this means is that you have to slow down.”

“And live like some fuckin' cripple?” Lil Fade shouted. He pounded the covers with his fist. “This ain't the way it's supposed to happen. I'm supposed to die in the streets like a soldier!”

Travon shook his head. “You mean like a fool!”

Lil Fade shook his head and pounded the covers again. “No, like a soldier! Believing in something. Believing in the hood, in the homies, in you! I'm not supposed to live to be some crippled old man; I'm not supposed to live past eighteen!”

Travon shook his head and turned away. “You're crazy.”

Lil Fade shook his head. “No, I'm finished. It's all on you now, it's all on you.” He lifted his bandaged hand and pointed at Travon. “You're Baby-Low, and no one will let you forget it. From now on, everybody will be gunning for Baby-Low. Everyone will want the honor of being able to say that they killed Baby-Low. You will go on killing, BSV will keep on growing, and the set will live forever, and so I'll live forever.”

Travon shook his head and his eyes widened. “No.”

“Yes.” Lil Fade bit down upon his lip. “I was it, and I passed it on to you. You will die, and someone else will have it.”

“Fuck you, and your psycho killa bullshit.”

Lil Fade rapidly shifted his gaze toward Travon. “Is it? Think about it. When someone thinks of Wheatley Courts, they think Dejuan and Too-Low. East Terrace, they think Slow Poke and C-Low. BSV, they think Capone and Lil Fade. Now they think Capone and Baby-Low.”

Travon extended his arms toward the ceiling. “Is that what this is all about? Nobody will fear you, because you have only one leg?”

Lil Fade turned away from Travon and again stared at the ceiling. “I didn't ask you to come here!”

“I know. I had to come.”

“I know, because I saved you. Because you had to come and decide on the spot whether or not to kill me.” Lil Fade stared into Travon's eyes, with his own tear-filled ones. “Please…”

Travon turned away from him. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked nervously.

Lil Fade pounded the metal bed railing. “I can't bail outta the car any longer, I can't go anywhere or do anything anymore! My life is over. Everything I know how to do is over! Tre, I can feel again. I'm not a monsta.”

Lil Fade began crying heavily. Tears streamed down Travon's face as he leaned over and embraced the one person in life who had touched upon his every emotion. The person who he feared the most, the person who had killed for him, the person who made him take lives, and the person who gave him life.

After all of the blood and all the killing, Lil Fade was human again. For several moments the two boys embraced, as Lil Fade let out years of pain. Tears flowed continuously from his bandaged body and broken soul. When finally they no longer embraced, Travon stared into Lil Fade's eyes. They were no longer the cold, lifeless, penetrating eyes that brought fear to many. Now they were the tired eyes of a scared boy.

“Tre, you can make it,” Lil Fade whispered.

Travon recoiled. “What?”

“Everything I told you was wrong, and everything Taariq said was right. Go to him.”

Travon frowned. “What?”

“Go to him,” Lil Fade repeated. “Don't try to fight it by yourself, it's addictive. Once you've started, you can't stop. It'll always be your first resort, and your defense mechanism. You'll always use it to fall back on.”

Travon lifted his shoulders and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Violence, murder. You've tasted blood, you've tasted power. It consumes you.” Lil Fade turned and stared into Travon's eyes. “Tre, you have to kill Baby-Low.”

“Is that the medicine talking, or you?”

Lil Fade lifted his finger. “One last death. You have to kill Baby-Low, in order to save Travon.”

Travon nodded and looked down. He understood.

“Tre, I need you to do me a favor. Capone is coming up here, and I don't want him to see me like this.”

Travon turned, grabbed Lil Fade's bed sheets, and spread them back over his body.