a fifty-dollar bill and said, “I don’t want no funny business.”
“You gonna get the same stuff you been getting. Just pull over in the alley right there.” He raced over to the mailbox and poured five rocks into the palm of his hand. He tossed the bag back inside the box and rushed around to the back of the shop.
“Here you go,” he said, handing the man his order.
“Looks the same. A’ight, see you later,” the man said, pulling away.
Wink was so geeked that he had to take another look at the fifty-dollar bill. His first sale in the game, and it was for fifty dollars. He thought about having it framed ’cause he knew there’d be plenty more where that came from.
Two more cars turned the corner. Wink let the first car pass and flagged the blue Fiesta down.
“Pull in the alley,” Wink said, waving his hand.
“In the alley? You bet’ not be try’na rob me, ’cause I’ma fight ’bout mine’s,” the no-teeth, nappy-neck woman said before she buzzed into the alleyway.
“What you got, baby girl?” Wink asked, leaning into the driver-side window.
“Twenty. Make sure they’re two nice ones,” she said, handing Wink a sweaty twenty.
He looked at the faded bill on his way to the mailbox and wondered how many hands that same bill went through already. He tucked the money in his pimp pocket on his Guess jeans and then raised the lid on the box. He hadn’t seen J-Bo approaching the block, coming from Gallagher Street. Wink closed the mailbox and walked around back to the alley.
“Thank you, baby,” said the woman. She didn’t waste no time packing her pipe and taking a hit right there in the alley.
Wink watched the woman’s reactions like a first grader at the zoo. Her eyes bucked the size of silver dollars, as she held the smoke in for as long as she could before blowing out a stank cloud of crack smog. The smell made Wink’s stomach turn over. He backed away from the car with his hand over his face.
“Damn,” he said, fanning the stench.
The woman finally buzzed off down the alley. When Wink turned around, there sat J-Bo in his yellow 924 Porsche, just sitting there, staring dead at him. Wink got to the end of the alley and tried not making direct eye contact with J-Bo, but he hit his horn.
“Com’ere, young dawg,” Ordered J-Bo with a wave.
The moment Wink had been waiting on had arrived sooner than he thought. He played it cool and walked over to the driver’s side.
“What you doin’ out here?” asked J-Bo.
“The same thing everybody else is out here doing, Try’na eat,” answered Wink.
J-Bo sorta liked the young nigga’s answer because he didn’t lie, but he didn’t like the fact that the young nigga didn’t show any signs of fear.
“You know who I am?” asked J-Bo.
“I’ve heard of you here and there. Why? What’s up?” asked Wink.
“Then you know this my block. This whole hood is mine’s, and everything in it.”
Again, Wink showed no sign of fear. This made J-Bo angry because he had put so much work in to keep every nigga in line, and now some youngin’ wasn’t recognizing his authority. The last thing he needed was for a renegade to sprout up. Next thing you know, everybody would be on renegade time, bucking J-Bo’s system to getting money.
J-Bo pulled over and got out. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he started, extending his hand for Wink’s. “What’s ya name?”
“Wink.”
“I’m J-Bo, as you may know. Don’t you stay down the street?”
“Yeah, across from Ms. Bowers.”
“I thought you looked familiar. Anyway, check this out, young dawg. I saw what you were doin’, and that shit can’t happen again.”
“What, me try’na get some money, or me sellin’ in the alley?”
“Both. Come on. Let’s walk down to the corner,” said J-Bo. They started walking, and he continued speaking. “You can’t be out here, especially not in the alley. That’s a sure way to bring the cops around here. There’s a reason why I got things centered in the middle of the block. What I just saw you doing is called short-stoppin’, and it can get you killed out here.”
“By who?”
J-Bo laughed, then stopped to face Wink. “Young dawg, when somebody kills you, the last thing you’re going to be worried about is who. Hopefully we understand each other that I won’t see you back out here on my block again.”
“J-Bo, with all due respect, I grew up on this block. Born and raised. How can you or any other nigga tell me I can’t get money out here?”
“I’m not tellin’ you. I’m warning you. Young dawg, I don’t know what you think this shit is out here, but it ain’t a game. What, you woke up this morning and just decided that you were going to sell drugs? It don’t work like that.”
“Then how does it work? Why don’t you teach me, because I’m gon’ get some of this money.”
J-Bo had to laugh. He held a smile while he looked Wink over. He reminded him so much of himself, thirsty and eager to learn the game. But just as fast as the smile appeared, it vanished. “You have to first learn the game before anything. Then once you do that, you have to stack yo’ own money. Then find you a spot you can call your own and get your own clientele. You see,” J-Bo said, raising his hands and spinning around in a circle. “You see, this is mine’s, and I will do what’s necessary to protect it. If you ever make it this far in the game, you’ll feel the same way, and only then will you understand.”
Wink soaked up every word. He’d never listened to any of his teachers at school as intently as he was listening to J-Bo. He couldn’t believe that he was actually standing there, having a face-to-face talk about the game with his idol.
“Let me see what you’re out here workin’,” said J-Bo.
Wink raced to the mailbox and came back with the last three rocks. He poured them into J-Bo’s palm for him to inspect.
“Where’d you get these from? They look like some of mine’s.”
“That’s like tellin’, ain’t it?” asked Wink.
“Sho’ is. I was just testin’ to see if you’d tell something. That’s the first rule of the game, No snitchin’.”
Wink nodded at this. He waited for further instructions, anything. As long as it was coming from his idol, it was good as gold.
“Come on and take a ride with me. I’ma take you up under my wing,” said J-Bo.
Wink damn near shouted; he was so excited. To be in J-Bo’s presence was enough, but to ride shotgun in his Porsche was some other
