Paper Chasers (13 page)

She told me that it was more than she charged, uh, that it was more than enough to get her home. As she departed she told me to call her during the week. I promised her that I would and then kissed her good-bye.

I knew that once the door closed behind her that I probably would never speak to Whitney again. Yo, to some people, the way I was living would have been deemed straight up foul. But to many others, if they could have lived as I was currently living, they would not have hesitated to jump at the chance.

After Whitney was out of my sight, the only thing that I had on my mind was the fact that it was July 15. July 15 was Sabine's and my anniversary. Even though we weren't together, it still marked the day that we had originally become a couple, so I immediately called her. Her bratty little sister, Dorothy, answered the phone and I had to bribe her in order for her to give Sabine the phone.

“Hello, pookie, this is Mark,” I said when Sabine was finally on the line. “Hi, how you doing, Mark?” Sabine asked, sounding very happy to hear my voice.

“I'm fine. Happy anniversary.” Sabine laughed.

“Happy anniversary to you too, honey.”

“Sabine, can I see you today?”

“Of course you can see me. That's if you really want to see me,” she added.

Then she went on to tell me that she had seen me at the Greekfest.

“Well, why didn't you come speak to me?” I asked.

“Because, Mark, you looked like you had your hands full, if you know what I mean . . . Anyway, I won't even get into that. Mark, what time is it?”

“It's eleven thirty.”

Although Sabine didn't know where I was calling from, she told me that she would get to my house at two in the afternoon.

“Just take a cab and I'll pay for it when you get to my house.”

“OK.”

I immediately called Randy's room and told him why I had to hurry like hell and make it home. He said that he would be fully dressed and ready to bounce in fifteen minutes.

On our way home we each described our sexual experiences with Whitney and Denise. We were both feeling like Big Willies as we repeatedly laughed and slapped each other five.

When I reached home, I showered and went straight to the mall to buy Sabine a card and some perfume, and I immediately raced back home so that I would be back at my crib before she got there. As soon as Sabine reached my front door, I greeted her with a long kiss and then I handed her the gifts that I'd bought for her. Needless to say, she was both surprised and happy. We then went upstairs to my room and watched a movie that I had rented.

“Mark, you know that I still love you right?” she said as we were watching the movie.

“If you say you do, then it must be true. Sabine, I hope you know that I have never stopped loving you, and I'll never stop loving you. Baby, why did we break up anyway?”

“Because, Mark . . .”

“Sabine, I'm going through a lot right now in terms of constantly feeling stressed out, and I need you now more than ever.”

“Mark, we can't totally get back with one another, at least not until you first prove to me that you ain't involved with those drugs.”

Sounding as convincing as possible, I explained to her that I wasn't gonna get hurt, and that I wouldn't let her get caught up in what I was doing.

“That's not good enough for me. Mark, you . . .”

“Shhhh,” I said as I raised my index finger to my mouth in an attempt to interrupt her. “Don't say another word,” I told her.

I pressed play on my stereo and on came my Luther Vandross cassette. As Luther sang, I asked Sabine to slow dance with me for a little while. I knew that slow dancing turned her on. I started to undress her and before I knew it we were fornicating.

I don't know why it was going through my mind, but I began wondering how my life would change if Sabine were to get pregnant by me. Actually, I would have loved that, 'cause then the two of us would have been connected in an inseparable way. Plus, it would have been cool to have a little Holz running around. Maybe a newborn baby would have persuaded me to stop sinning.

Anyway, later that day, Sabine and I went shopping. Sabine, however, refused to let me buy her anything. I tried as hard as I could to be her sugar daddy, but she wouldn't give in. Even on our way back home I tried to give her ten one-hundred-dollar bills. But of course she refused to take them.

So as the cab dropped me in front of my house and prepared to take Sabine to her house, I kissed her good-bye and I quickly stuffed one thousand dollars into her shirt pocket.

Sabine attempted to give me back the money, but I wouldn't take it. She was kinda caught between a rock and a hard place, but she eventually decided to keep the money. I mean, after all, it was one thousand dollars.

“Thank you, Mark . . . I love . . . Please, be careful.”

So far Latiefe had been doing his job very honorably. Everyone was getting their money exactly the way they were supposed to. Latiefe was also doing a good job at making sure money was set aside to re-up. He had managed to set aside close to fifty grand for us to make another big drug purchase, and that was something that we would soon have to do.

Earl and Dwight suggested that we stop dealing with Mob Style. Dwight and Earl had met two Colombian drug dealers who were from the Bronx. Supposedly the two drug dealers had ties to some Colombian cartel. The two Colombians promised Earl and Dwight much more drugs for our money, way more than what Mob Style could give us.

The Colombians even promised Dwight and Earl heroin at a very good price. We were all skeptical about dealing with these Colombians. None of us knew anything about them, nor did we personally know anyone who knew them, and vice versa. Why should we travel all the way to the Bronx to buy drugs and run the risk of getting robbed or busted by the cops? For all we knew the two Colombians could have been feds, so why run all the risks when we had a good drug connection in Harlem? No one in the crew was really big on the idea. But with Dwight and Earl's persistence, and with their constant pleading, badgering, and urging, we gave in and decided to go along with their newfound Colombian connection.

“So are y'all wit' it?” Earl asked.

Reluctantly we all agreed.

“Well, we have to go up to the Bronx today then,” Earl said. “Our inventory is running real low.”

Earl, Dwight, Wiggie, and Latiefe decided to make the drug run to the Bronx. Armed and with close to fifty thousand dollars in hand, the four of them left for the Bronx. As for the rest of us, we just stayed on the block and chilled. All we could do was hope that the drug run would turn out all right.

Later that day a girl that I'd met in Brooklyn called me. I decided to go spend some time with her to see what she was about. She lived in a housing project called Marcy. When I reached her apartment I knew right away that I didn't like the atmosphere that she was living in. Nah, I didn't like it at all, but I was there so what could I do? I couldn't just up and leave as soon as I'd arrived. Her place was wild to say the least. Little kids and babies scurried around her apartment, toys were everywhere, dirty dishes were in the kitchen sink, soggy corn flakes were in a bowl on the table, and the bowl looked as if it had been there for hours. It was typical of a welfare home.

Her name was Toni. The two of us talked for a long time, over three hours as a matter of fact. To my surprise she was a very intelligent girl. Despite the fact that she had two kids, Toni still managed to keep up a 3.0 average at New York University. NYU is a very prestigious school, known all around the world for its high academic standards.

As she was telling me about her future plans of becoming a doctor, my beeper went off.

“Toni, can I use your phone?”

“Sure,” she said as she went to retrieve her cordless phone.

Kwame's number was the number that appeared on my beeper. After reaching him, he told me to come to his crib right away. His parents were in North Carolina visiting relatives so his house was where we were going to cut, cook, and bag up our new supply. He couldn't tell me all of the details, but he told me that Dwight and the rest of them had returned from the Bronx with an enormous amount of dope.

“A'ight, I'll be there in about a half,” I informed Kwame before ending the call.

“Toni, I'm sorry but I gotta bounce. Something came up unexpectedly.”

“Oh, you gotta leave so soon?” Toni asked, sounding disappointed.

“Yeah, like I said, something real unexpected and urgent came up. I gotta get back to Queens.”

“Well, when can I come out to Queens to see you?”

“Just call me whenever you want to come.”

Toni slipped on a pair of slippers and decided that she wanted to walk me downstairs and show me the way out.

“You want to
walk
me downstairs?” I asked. “Are you bugging? Let's take the elevator. I mean, you do live on the fourth floor.”

Actually, the distance of being on the fourth floor was not the problem. The problem was that I was scared as hell to walk down four flights of stairs. I didn't know who was bound to be lurking in the projects' staircase. I could run into the projects' version of Freddy Crougar.

“Holz,” she said in a persuading manner, “just walk with me.”

Reluctantly I entered the stairwell with her. When we arrived at the first landing, she stopped.

“You're not gonna give me a good-bye kiss?” she asked.

“Not in here, I ain't! Well, I mean, I was gonna do that when we got outside.”

She didn't say anything, and before I knew it I was slobbing her down. She stopped kissing me and unzipped my pants. I was gonna stop her 'cause I just didn't know what to think. I was really buggin' out. Like I said I was gonna stop her, but it was too late. She was already showing me her true colors. And besides, it was feeling way to good for me to have her stop.

Toni was a real fine and healthy, brown-skinned, young lady. I couldn't believe what she was doing, but I definitely didn't want her to stop. It was unreal! I was thinking to myself,
Oh, now I see where all of those damn kids came from
.

After we were finished, we scrambled to put our clothes back on, and I lied and told her that I would definitely see her again.

On my way home I came to the conclusion that the money our crew was making, was working wonders for us. Sex for us was now commonplace.

Whenever we wanted it, we got it, from almost any female we chose.

When I reached Kwame's house everybody wanted to know what had taken me so long to get there.

“Oh, I was busy,” I devilishly told them.

“Well, come on, help us get this ready,” Dwight commanded.

As we worked on our drugs, Dwight told me exactly what they had purchased. He also told me how much they'd paid for it and how they were able to get it so dirt cheap. After hearing his report, I was able to soundly say that our new Colombian connection was definitely a smart business move. We definitely weren't gonna deal with Mob Style anymore. The deal we struck with the Colombians was way too enticing.

I'll explain very quickly how the Colombians were able to give us drugs at bargain basement prices. See, it was alleged that the Central Intelligence Agency and the Drug Enforcement Agency were down with Nicaragua. Their alleged involvement basicly stemmed from the U.S. wanting to help Nicaragua's Democratic Force, known as the Contras. They wanted to help them beat Nicaragua's Cuban supported socialists Sandinista government, which had overthrown U.S. backed dictator Anastasio Somoza. It was also alleged that the CIA and the DEA, which were supposed to protect U.S. citizens basically turned their heads and let narcotics funnel into America. It was alleged that they allowed drugs to be smuggled into the U.S. so that they could turn around and sell the same drugs to kingpins across the country at unbelievably cheap prices.

And of course it was alleged that after the agents sold the drugs to the kingpins throughout the United Sates, that they would take their cut of the dough, and then they would send the rest of the money to help finance the Contra's military efforts. Supposedly all this went on and the government, aka certain ex-presidents, looked the other way as if they were stupid. I guess they didn't care because the drugs and guns were only being dumped into the black communities.

Yeah, every now and then people would see on the news a story about how a huge drug bust was made. And see, stories like that were purposely reported just to make it seem as if the drug problem in America was being fought. But in fact there was no drug problem in America—it was a corruption problem.

Now supposedly these Colombians from the Bronx were dealing directly with a DEA agent who was getting drugs that had been placed onto planes that landed in New York's Kennedy airport. Allegedly the agent would bring the drugs to the Bronx and sell them to the Colombians. Since the CIA and DEA agents dealt with such large quantities, it meant that they were able to sell a kilo for as little as three thousand dollars and still make a profit. Hell, they weren't paying anything for it. The coca leaf plant was a natural resource in those foreign countries, so it was nothing but huge profit all the way around.

The Colombians we knew supposedly paid these agents three thousand dollars for a kilo of coke, and then they turned around and sold it to us. So that meant that if they sold it to us for anything over three thousand dollars, they made a profit. Similar to us, the Colombians also wanted to make huge profits, so all they had to do was beat the going street rate for a kilo of coke, which was in the twenty-four-thousand-dollar range. Obviously it wasn't hard for them to beat that twenty-four-thousand-dollar figure. Eventually they would dominate the wholesale cocaine distribution in New York.

That Friday the nineteenth was Xavier's last day of summer classes. He called me and told me that he wanted to get drunk and party later that night. It was to be his way of celebrating the end of all of the studying he had been doing.

Xavier wanted to go back to Harlem to visit Bunny like he'd promised her he would do once school was over.

“A'ight, bet,” I said. “I'll go to Bunny's with you.”

Xavier asked me to call her and make sure that she would be home when we came.

When I called to speak to Bunny, her sister answered the phone. She wanted to know why we had left so quickly the last time we were there.

“Binis,” I nonchalantly told her. “We had moves to make. We're binis men.”

I went on to tell her that we were planning to come see them later that day.

“Will y'all be home?” I asked.

“Yeah, we'll be here. Just as long as y'all don't pull that same hi and good-bye garbage like y'all always do. I'm sayin' I understand that y'all have to take care of business and all, but I'm sayin', y'all could still chill like y'all used to.”

“Nah, I hear you, and we're definitely gonna stay for a while this time,” I promised. “Is Bunny there?” I asked.

“Yeah, she's here.”

“Let me speak to her real quick.”

“OK, hold on a minute . . . Bunny! The phone.”

I heard Bunny in the background hollering that she had it.

“Hello,” Bunny said as she took the phone.

“What's up, Bunny? This is Holz.”

“Hey, Holz, what's up, boo?”

“Nothing much. I'm chillin'. Yo, Xavier and us are gonna shoot out there and come check y'all tonight if that's a'ight with you.”

“Yeah, that's cool with me,” she responded. “Holz, you already know that y'all can come by and kick it whenever y'all get ready. Oh, Holz, good thing that you called, 'cause that kid PI from Mob Style asked me to find out when y'all were coming back to buy some more work.”

“Oh, I ain't tell you? We ain't tryin' to see them niggas no more. We're buying our joints from these Colombians up in the Bronx. But I'll explain that to you later.”

“Oh, OK then,” Bunny said very nonchalantly. “I'll tell him when I see him, 'cause I know he's gonna ask what's up. So I'll see y'all tonight, right?”

“Yeah, tonight,” I said. “Bunny, listen, I'm gonna hit you off with some loot for helping us out, a'ight?”

“Holz, now you know you don't have to do that. I'm good.”

“Yeah, I know, honey, but I'm sayin' it'll be my way of saying thank you. Does twenty-five hundred sound good?”

“Holz, you don't . . .”

“A'ight, Bunny, I'll see you tonight,” I said as I cut off her protests.

Later that night Xavier, Donnie, Earl, and myself decided to leave for uptown. We piled into Xavier's little blue Toyota and made our way to Harlem.

“One more semester and I'm done with school for good!” Xavier emphatically said as we drove in his ride. “Yeah, just one more semester.” He exhaled.

I asked Xavier if he had considered attending graduate school. He said he planned to land a job and work for a few years, then maybe he would consider graduate school.

When we reached Bunny's building on East 110th Street, we saw her already standing outside chilling with some of her friends. We parked the car and walked over to her.

Bunny, in a hurried type of way, quickly pulled me to the side.

“Holz, did you bring money with you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I told you that I got you. Don't worry about it. I'ma lace you.”

“No, it's not that,” she said, sounding kind of annoyed. “PI was bugging me and asking me why y'all aren't dealing with them anymore. I didn't tell him about the Colombians or whoever it was that you said y'all were messing with, but I mean he was really stressing me and I don't wanna have to keep hearing this nigga's mouth every time I'm in the street.”

“Bunny, I got money on me, but not that kind of cake! I only got about four Gs in my pocket.”

“Yeah, OK, that's good,” Bunny said, sounding kind of desperate. “He told me that the next time y'all bought from him, he would hit me off with some weed for myself for free. I guess he's gonna try to spit game to y'all and give y'all a good deal on some more work. You know, he's probably gonna try to gas y'all and lure y'all back as customers, especially if he finds out that y'all are going somewhere else.”

Being as street smart as I was, I thought to myself,
Nah, Holz, something ain't right.
I couldn't figure out what it was, but for some reason I was starting to smell some kind of a rat.
Was Bunny trying to set us up?
I wondered. Nah, why was I bugging? There was no way in hell that she would ever do that, but I was still feeling a bit suspicious. Why all of a sudden did it seem like PI was fiending for us to buy some work from him? I'm sure he had many other dealers and crews that he was supplying throughout the city.