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Authors: K'wan

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Gangsta
Road Dawgz
Street Dreams
Hoodlum
Eve
Hood Rat
ANTHOLOGIES
The Game
Blow
(with 50 Cent)
Flexin & Sexin
IT SEEMED LIKE THERE WAS A DARK CLOUD
hovering over Harlem that Sunday morning. The temperature had dropped almost twelve degrees lower from what it had been the whole week. Bitter winds whipped through the streets, pulling trash behind it like a game of Follow the Leader. The celebrity basketball game was still played in the park on 115th Street, the King Dome, for those not familiar, but it was a grim event.
The Big Dawg squad all wore black strips on their jerseys in honor of True and Jah. The celebration of the Don B and Stacks collabo turned into a celebration of True's life. His album would go on to sell more than five hundred thousand copies in its first week, partially due to the media coverage of his gruesome murder. Don B took little joy in the success. Though he had been hard on True, he only wanted to see him do well. When you're young, Black, and on top of your game, they'll always be people in the wings who want you to fall.
When the two squads took the floor, Don B had a sinking feeling about what the results of the game would be. Stacks's big secret was that he not only had the best all-around players from Texas on his team, but two of his
starters played for the Houston Rockets. The ballers from Big Dawg put up a good fight, but in the end they were routed by twenty-five.
Lazy played horribly that afternoon. Cooter abused him on the court, going for a hot twenty to Lazy's six. He had been out all night stressing over the impending baby, and what he had done to his relationship. So, when game time rolled around he had neither the stamina nor willpower to put up any kind of real effort. To make matters worse, he ended up tearing the ligaments in his knee in the third quarter, ruining any dreams he had of being recruited to a top-ten school. Though college was still an option, his game would never be the same. Michelle was heartbroken by the prospect of her being an NBA wife flying out the window, but she would still have her man, even if Lazy did refuse to quit cheating on her.
When the Big Dawg took the floor it wasn't Billy at the helm. For as much as she looked forward to coaching in the highly publicized game, she was needed elsewhere. Yoshi was so broken up by Jah's murder that she was inconsolable. The doctors had given her something to make her sleep, but it did nothing for grief. Everybody feared that she was going to do something to herself, so Billy and Reese took turns sitting with her. Billy understood just what Yoshi was going through because she and the same kind of grief had walked hand in hand when Sol was killed.
From the moment Jah felt the rush of his first lick, life had dictated that the streets would claim him. Yoshi had believed that she could change what fate had written. And truth be told, she almost did. Though it was only for a short time, she had found happiness for herself and was able to pass it on to someone else. Jah was gone from this world, but never from her heart. At the end of their chapter he had died how he lived, with a gun in his hand.
Black Ice was beyond upset to lose his twenty-five thousand dollars. Over the course of the weekend he had lost three whores and a good chunk of his change. The morning after the locked-door, Wendy had stolen fifteen thousand dollars from his safe and disappeared with only the clothes on her back. Ice was mad as hell, but figured, with the eighteen-year-old beauty he had copped from an
all-night diner, he would make three times that once he broke her in. Unfortunately he would never have a chance to see if she was built like that.
In the middle of the celebrity barbecue, a short kid who was built like a mailbox and who rocked his hair in messy cornrows, walked over to the grill where the pimp and his henchman were talking to a group of young ladies. There was something familiar about the young man, but Ice couldn't quite place him. Before he had a chance to ponder it further the park erupted in gunfire.
Shorty reached for his pistol, but the alcohol dulled his movements by a fraction of an inch which was all Shannon needed to gun him down. Shorty's head exploded like a melon when the bullet hit it. Ice tried to take cover but two bullets to the back immobilized him. Don B. and his people scattered leaving Ice at the mercy of the gunman.
“Turn yo bitch ass over!” Shannon kicked him in the ass, leaving a Timberland print on the rear of Ice's white linen shorts.
Ice was in a world of pain, but managed to roll over onto his side to face the man. “Dawg, I don't even know you. What the fuck is this about?” Ice asked, not bothering to hide the panic in his voice.
Shannon glared down at Black Ice. “This is about dreams, nigga. Dreams of a little girl that may never come true because of a slick-talking nigga.”
Ice tried to plead. “Man, wait a second. I got ten grand in my truck. Let me live and you can have it!”
“Money?” Shannon chuckled. “Bitch nigga, I don't want ya money, I want ya fucking life. My little sister Dena wanted you to have this.” Shannon leveled his gun. Ice opened his mouth to beg but a bullet ripping through the back of his throat silenced him. Shannon continued to squeeze the trigger until his gun was empty. While Ice lay motionless on the ground Shannon spat on him before walking calmly from the park. The debt had been settled. They say that even after Shannon was gone you could still hear Shorty's brains sizzling on the grill where they'd been deposited.
FOR A LONG TIME PEOPLE
talked about the shootout at the Big Dawg game, but as with most things in the hood that news became old in light of more drama. Though Charlie Rock had managed to escape the scene of the triple murder, he couldn't escape his karma. He was last seen on the corner of Decatur and Ralph, being stuffed into the back of a car by Spider's older brother, Killer-Bo.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
STILL HOOD. Copyright © 2007 by K'wan Foye. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
eISBN 9781429921084
First eBook Edition : February 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
K'wan.
Still hood / K'wan.—1st ed. p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-0-312-36010-8
ISBN-10: 0-312-36010-X
1. African American beauty operators—Fiction. 2. African American musicians—Fiction. 3. Brooklyn (New York, N.Y.)—Fiction. 4. Street life—Fiction. 5. Hip-hop—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3606.O96S73 2007
813'.6—dc22
2007021197
First Edition: October 2007
BOOK: Still Hood
6.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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