Winter In Watts

By Maurice Townsend

Arthur Wallace (better known as Big Cowboy) born and raised in the gritty no non-sense streets of Watts, California. One of the original members of the Holme Town Watts Crip and like the many other reputable and notorious Watts gang bangers, flockers, hustlers and bailers, he followed in deep and well defined footsteps left by those who came before him.

As one of his neighborhood's primary drug pusher, he made the decision years ago to step away from the violent rivalry between the Crips and Bloods of the Watts, Los Angeles and Compton areas. The decision was made in order that he might focus solely on building a legitimate financial foundation and a future empire. In an atmosphere of quiet whispers by some of his homies who believe that he's gotten soft over the years due to his money, two of his closes friends are murdered and makes him reconsider his decision to step away from cripping. Tom between his love for his homies or chasing his dreams, he has to choose and that choice might bring all he's worked for to a crashing end.

Winter In Watts, paints a full and vivid picture of all the complexities, hopes, dangers fears and frustrations experienced inside the hood. It provides a tantalizingly good view into the interrelated characters of a true Watts street gang and its culture while at the same time being entertaining.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maurice Townsend
• Release date: Jul 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370070688

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

JANUARY 1, 2015. 5:59am

Slowly, a black on black 2012 SL500 Mercedes Benz pulled into the amber-colored traffic light that illuminate the parking lot and moved along the lane until it turned into a parking spot marked Reserved. The new and silent engine soon cut off, followed seconds later by the headlights. This maneuver has been done the same way by the same black Mercedes every day, Monday thru Friday, for the last three years.

Just another fucked up example of my bad luck thought the driver of the car. The sound of his own voice inside his head seemed low and almost bitchy, in comparison with the thundering boom of his heart beat and the rhythmic drum of heavy rain drops on the roof. When it rains it pours! the voice in his head said as he tried desperately to control his anger and the staggering fear that gripped his entire being. He took a deep breath and pushed the situation into full focus, opened the door and stepped out into the first El Nino style thunderstorm of the year and was immediately assaulted by a million tiny fist of icy cold water about his face and head.

He reached up and pulled his collar tight around his neck thinking, I’m not dressed for this shit. He scanned the empty parking lot hoping to see someone who could help, but the early morning hours and dark low rain filled menacing clouds overhead, prevented him from seeing much and if someone was there they also wouldn’t have been able to see him. He quickly walked three feet from the car to the sidewalk, turned and gazed wantonly at the main entrance doorway Ten feet away and to the left. For a split second he thought about using it, then just as fast decided against it. Instead, he walked the Five feet down the path in front of him to the polished steel metal door, removed his keys from his pocket, located the correct one and inserted it in the keyhole, took a deep breath then turned the key and opened the door. The same door he used every day, Monday thru Friday for the past Ten years.

He stood in the open door and unconsciously turned back and glimpsed his car. Seeing the buildup of dirt and scum that splattered all along the side of it, he thought That’ll have to be washed! before he realized that was just another stupid thought he’d had over the last night. He walked into the interior of the hallway just inside the door and stopped after taking twenty paces, next to a key pad on the wall and typed in 4-2-8-0-2. Deactivating the security system, then he took another Ten paces and found the light switches, flicked all seven on, the same way he’d done each morning, everyday for the last Ten years, except Sundays.

His wife’s horror stricken face flashed across his mind the moment the lights came on and his body shook involuntarily as fear enveloped him. After a moment’s time and with much effort and concentration he regained control of his emotions. Then used those thoughts of his wife and Fourteen year old daughter to propel him forward, but memories of his life wouldn’t stop crowding in.

They’d met back in high school and married three months after graduation and begin to struggle from the start. They couldn’t afford for the both of them to attend college at the same time, so she sacrificed her own dreams of becoming a lawyer so that he could get his degree. After he graduated, he found a job working at the local pet store in his town. Although, the pay wasn’t much, it allowed them to live in a small one bedroom apartment and save a few dollars a week. Things stayed that way for the following two years until he landed a job as a Loan Officer Agent with The Greater Western Federal Bank. He made sure that when he was paid his very first check, he took his wife out to one of the fanciest restaurants he could find. A few years into the job, with the retirement of his boss, he was promoted to bank manager. That was Ten years ago and now word was being circulated that he was the top candidate at Corporate headquarters for District Manager and a six figure salary.

He felt a touch on his shoulder that pulled his mind back from his memories and into his present reality.

Mr. Limpkin, where’s the video security system kept? A voice calmly asked from very close behind him.

He, Mr. Limpkin, the bank’s manager was hoping that the video system would have been forgotten, but with it’s mentioning he felt totally deflated and regrettably he heard himself reply It’s in the next office on your right, in the cabinet, lower right side. A second later a figure wearing a grey ski mask, cream-colored turtle neck shirt, brown Bugle Boys pants, tan Honcho Boots and black surgical gloves walked from behind him and went to the office he specified. A second after and the hand on the manager’s shoulder was removed with a slight nudge forward. The manager resumed walking down the hallway which ended in the common area of the bank (the place the general public does most of its business in the bank).

This common area has sixteen-foot ceilings, polished brass railings and marble counters and floors. To the left of the hallway opening stood a wall of floor to ceiling windows and the main entrance double glass doors, while to the right lay the marble counters that ran the length of the common area. It has twelve nooks for the tellers and at the far end of the common area another hallway lead off to the right down a row of offices used by loan officers and other bank agents.

Two ski-masked figures ran from behind the manager and the voice, one jumped over the counter while the other headed off to the offices at the far end.

Mr. Limpkin? the voice behind him called.

The bank’s manager turned around to face the promoter of so much of his fear and hatred he felt inside. He recognized the same gray ski mask as the others wore and tried to think of things he could tell the police about these people if he got out of this alive, but could only see that all four wore the same type of turtle neck shirt, casual pants and black surgical gloves. The only difference between the four men was the colors of their clothes, but everything else was exactly the same.

So that we have no misunderstandings... the voice continued speaking and lifted his wrist, looked at his watch ...it’s now 6:10. Please conduct yourself just as you’ve always done. Do not attempt any heroics. Your family don’t want or need a hero! They want a husband and a father to return back home unharmed... The voice paused a second ...Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Limpkin?! The tone in which the voice spoke was akin to a principle counseling a student. The bank’s manager could only manage to nod his numb head in answer to the question.

Well then, please get on with the business at hand, sir, if you don’t mind. The voice cautioned then stepped back into the shadows of the hallway.

From his position, the voice was able to observe the whole common area and watch the manager move off to do his morning preparations. He watched him walk to the huge windows, pull on the draw string which controlled the blinds that covered those windows, the name of the bank appeared in five foot letters across the whole length of blinds. That done, the manager turned to go and start another task which was part of his morning ritual, but two steps in his motion he looked nervously at the figure standing in the hallway and instantly froze in mid-step. His heart leaped into his throat and felt like it was about to explode when he saw the masked figure start dialing in his cell phone. His stomach turned into a tight knot and terror struck his mind as the words begin to replay in his head They don’t need a hero. He spun on his heels as fast as he could and snatched at the blind’s cord pulling it, the blinds flipped over to the opposite side now showing a 20 x 12 foot California Flag. His sickening feelings deepened as his revulsion with his actions that placed his family in danger and he teared up, hung his head very low, turned begin to walk over to the marble counter and laid his forehead down on the cold stone and cried.

The manager soon felt the presents of another person standing very close next to him. He didn’t need to raise his head from the counter to see who it was, because he knew exactly who it was and why he was there. Mr. Limpkin that was your one and only fuck up! Any more attempts at deception and little Miss Prom Queen won’t ever experience what a cock feels like! He heard the Voice say directly into his left ear in a low, calm, but clear tone. ...Now get up, wipe the tears off your face, pull yourself together and do your job! The voice paused then said ...A great deal of people are counting on you. Then the Voice simply walked back to the hallway without another word or a backwards glance.

The person who went into the office ‘looking for the security system entered the common array went behind the marble counter and busied himself cutting phone lines. When he’d finished that he pulled out and laid in a line eight large black duffle bags and one small blue bag, on the floor in front of the vault at the ready and in easy reach.

The bank’s manager stood up fully with a great effort and took a handkerchief from his pocket and begin to wipe his eyes and dry his face. 6:25 gentlemen! The Voice shouted abruptly, loud enough that even the man back in the offices could hear him. The two men behind the counter squatted down - out of sight - and unstrapped identical Mini 14 rifles from their backs and held them at the ready position. The one man back in the hallway of offices also pulled a Mini 14 from his back, but he stepped inside the last office door, and The Voice followed his partner’s lead and now stood staring directly at the bank’s manager.

At exactly 6:27am headlights cut in and flashed across the parking lot as a yellow GMG Yukon found a parking spot. The Voice knew that it would park some place out of his line of sight, so he wasn’t worried when it happen and minutes later a middle aged white woman ran up to the double glass doors. She held a bright pink umbrella and a brown purse in her hand as she shifted from one foot to the other waiting for the manager to open the door. When he finally got there, he unlocked and opened it for her.

Ooh Lord! It’s really coming down out here! The middle-aged white woman said as she shook out the umbrella before closing it. ...I’m sure glad you wasn’t somewhere in the back. I surely believe I would have been soaked to the bone, maybe even drowned out here.

"She took six or seven steps toward the marble-counter and begins removing her over coat when the two men behind the counter stood up and pointed their rifles at her. Fear dried up all the saliva in her mouth and strangled off the scream in her throat when she caught sight of the ski-masked men holding dangerous looking guns in her work area. She turned her head searching to find the manager’s eyes, hoping to see some form of humor or jest in them which would tell her this was all a sort of game. Her questioning eyes were never answered as he stood rooted to the spot with his own fear etched across his face and he looked away from her to the floor.

The man standing in the hallway - The Voice - stepped out of the shadows and into view, holding his gun at his side and pointed at her. She saw that he too wore a full face ski mask and she thought that she could hear him speaking, but it was unintelligible and seemed to her as if it came from a dream. The man came walking at her and she began to understand that this was no game and what he was saying.

Ma’am, could you please follow this gentleman behind you? The Voice said in what she thought of as a friendly way. I will assure you that you will come to no harm.

At that very moment, she was grabbed strongly by her elbow and moved, guided towards the office at the far end of the common area.

Robert!? was the only thing she could think of to say as she stumbled along being pushed and guided, then suddenly stopped at a desk five feet from the hallway.

Ma’am, you’ll have to remove your coat, purse, shoes and cell phone. The Voice called from his spot back across the common area in the shadows.

All of the items he’d mentioned were taken from her, placed on the desk and she was physically transferred to another ski masked person who came out of the hallway of offices. He put plastic hand cuffs around her wrist, behind her back and when she was put into the office another plastic cuff was placed around her ankles and pulled tight.

For the next twenty minutes, a procession of seventeen workers entered the bank and the same process was completed seventeen more times. The surprised, shocked, scared, horrified and terror stricken faces were all the same, but when the armed security guard arrived carrying a big pink box of Yum Yum Donuts, he was immediately surrounded with all three Mini 14s pointed at him, until he was stripped, cuffed with his own cuffs and put securely in the same office that held all the rest of the workers.

It’s 7:12, people! ‘The Voice’ called out as the last worker was put into the office then the manager was escorted over to that office by the one who’d been doing all of the talking. The door of that office was opened and the manager was made to stand outside with The Voice as he spoke. Ladies and gentlemen, this will soon be over, one way or the other. Please, for your own safety, do not get up, do not yell, do not attempt any heroics! We’re here only for the money and there is absolutely no reason for any of you to get hurt over money you don’t own, will never own and will be returned to the bank in the form of insurance. So please forgive me this interruption into your workday. Thank you for giving me your full and undivided attention. Please sit back and just wait this out it shouldn’t be very long.‘He stepped back and the door was closed with the manager still standing next to him.

While the manager and the other three masked men moved to the vault, the ski masked man who’d guarded the offices begin to cut telephone wire, tying the ends to the doorknobs of several office doors, stretching it between each door. He took out a block of gray Playdo he purchased from Toys-R-Us, attaching it to the doors just below the knobs by spitting on them. He inserted the cut ends of the phone wire into each block of Playdo on each door.

The manager and the other masked gunmen stood in front of the vault and watched the timer tic down to the precise moment together. By now they had all reattached their rifles on their backs, not needing them for the manager. 7:20 tic-tic-tic-tic - tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic 7:21, tic-tic-tic-tic-tic 7:22. At 7:25am the manager was pushed forward in front of the combination pad and The Voice said You’re on!

The manager put his key into the keyhole and turned, then typed seven letters into the pad. Over his shoulder The Voice watched him tap in N-I-R-V-A-N-A - then as the last letter was typed in, somewhere deep inside the polished steel, the sound of gears in motion could be heard and at the instant the sound stopped the manager grabbed the spindle and spun it around four times. With a hiss of escaping air, the big door silently swung open automatically.

Get in! The Voice told the manager as he snatched the keys from his hands. ...You’re helping to fill the bags, Mr. Limpkin!"

All five went inside the vault, its walls were made of shelves and every inch of those shelves were stacked with big huge blocks of plastic wrapped U.S. Currency. More money than any of the masked men had ever seen in one room at one time and they moved like they were all parts of the same body as they each had the same reaction on entering the vault and seeing the money. Mouths open and staring speechless. Then the tallest of the masked men broke the spell of the money and moved to the shelf closest to him which held the one hundred dollar bills and pull one of the big blocks down to the floor. Then the rest fell into action and also started snatching blocks of money from the shelves and stuffing them into the huge duffle bags. Each black duffle bag could only hold one block of cash and once all eight were filled and zipped closed, the small blue bag was stuffed full of cash, but it could only hold a third as much as the black bags. Then the manager was escorted to the desk, stripped and put into an office by himself.

The bags were placed near the front double glass doors until all four men were there and ready to leave, then The Voice unlocked the glass doors and they walked out each carrying two very heavy bags over their shoulders and turned towards the back of the bank. All except The Voice who also had the blue bag, he stopped at the back of the Mercedes, set all his bags on the ground, stuck a key in and opened the trunk. He tossed the blue bag in it then closed the trunk, ran back into the bank and put the keys on the table with all of the other worker’s property and exited, picked up his two bags and headed to the back of the bank where the others waited for him. He situated his bags in the open trunk next to and on top of four other bags, closed the trunk then jumped in the driver’s door of a tan 2007 Crown Victoria. He put the already idling car into drive and drove out of the parking lot of the Greater Western Federal Bank.

Six blocks away from the bank they begin to roll up their ski mask off their faces. The driver, who was also The Voice is better known as Big Cowboy. He reached under the seat and pulled out a cell phone, which he handed to the front passenger Ernest Covington, better known as Ern Dog. Although no words passed between them Ern Dog knew who he was expected to call and why. He dialed a number as the Crown Victoria smoothly flowed down the main street in Santa Barbara, headed for the 101 freeway. The phone line was picked up on the other end and Ern Dog spoke only two words We out, then he broke that phone and tossed the pieces on the floor. He looked over his shoulder into the back seat at the face of the smiling Uba, also known as Big Bear, who held one of the big duffle bags on his lap.

Ca-ca-ca-cuz, we da-da-dun fu-fu-fuc-kkkkin came up, ca-cuz! Uba excitedly shouted stammering through the whole sentence.

No one else spoke, maybe it was their nerves, maybe they were thinking of how to spend the money and just maybe the rest didn’t feel they could celebrate yet. Uba said what they all was thinking and feeling, but didn’t want to jinx it ‘til they were home. Also in the back seat sat Stacy Carr, better known as Big Lowdown, who had the same shitty grin plastered across his face as Uba and just like Uba, he had a heavy duffle bag sitting squarely on his lap.

Big Cowboy got on the 101 South and eased the comfortable Crown Victoria over to the simi-flooded far left lane. Arthur Ray better known as Big Cowboy, stepped on the gas pedal a bit and the big engine pushed up to 70 mph, he didn’t want anyone else behind the wheel because he didn’t trust their driving in sticky situations and he liked driving. He also liked the reactions he got whenever he pulled alongside someone and they noticed the car, they would usually try to slow down quickly though-most won’t be speeding anyway. He contemplated that reaction when he considered his choice in cars to get away from the area in. The four magnetized antenna on the trunk only helped the visual effect and screamed ‘POLICE!’

Uba sat back with a server case of perma-grin as he imagined the many positions he would fuck a bitch on top of, under and covered with his share of the money all hundred-dollar bills, fully lost in his own fantasies he held on tightly to his bag. His peace in freak world didn’t last for very long and his like the others thoughts were ripped to pieces when Ern Dog unexpectedly said in a booming voice Cuz, gim’me y’all mask!

Big Cowboy immediately snatched his off his head and begin looking and searching around through the mirrors and out the windows, expecting danger in the form of black and white. He dropped it on the seat between him and Ern Dog and as Ern Dog picked it up he told Big Cowboy Easy my nigga, I just want ‘em all in one spot. Calm yo scary ass down cuz!

Both Uba and Lowdown handed their mask over the seat to him and he stuffed all of ‘em in a paper bag, then tossed the bag on the floor between his feet next to the broken cell phone. Shortly they all fell back into their own thoughts once again as he pushed South on the 101 through Carpentaria, Ventura and Camarillo. In Burbank he transition over to Interstate 5 without much thought, because he knew the state’s highways and byway system like the back of his hand. He was a perfect driver, never having received any type of driving violations in over twenty-five years. It was like he felt a freedom whenever he got behind the wheel and because he got off on it so much, back in 2009 he got up one morning and without telling anybody simply drove to the Organ boarder. Stayed there and sight seen for two hours then drove to the Mexican border, just because.

When he reached Hollywood city limits he exited the Interstate, turned left at Truman Boulevard then drove nine blocks ‘til he located what he was looking for. He made a left into a construction site, a new housing development where work had stalled and turned down an unnamed street then pulled up along the side of a dark blue 2011 Chevy Suburban LX that was idling at the curb.

CHAPTER 2

JANUARY 1, 2015. 8:20am

Three switchin’ bitches, nigga! Acebone exclaimed at the same time he slammed the ivory domino down on the table. I told y’all, my hoe ass momma was fuckin’ the nigga who put the dots on these bitches!

Ah ole mark ass nigga, yo momma got played out her coochie, cause she got some bunk ass info. Pebbles said out the side of her mouth, around the ever present New Port Cigarette. Quartaspoon, bitch! she slammed her bone at the opposite end of the domino line, then did a celebratory dance in her seat to the loud thumping beat and voice of Wiz Khalifa!

Taco’s turn came to play, but with a disappointed expression on his face he said Fuck! Cuz, I knock.

Best time in the world for yo’ mark ass to go! lil’ Lowdown said and slammed his bone home. Dubs, nigga!

For the last few hours these four players have been slamming dominos, talking shit, drinking and smoking. Doing what you do when you play bones. Erk and Jerk flowed freely accompanied with the stickiest buds on the West Coast, no mind that none ‘em had even had breakfast and the sun had only risen into the stormy dark grey sky hours ago. But this was the life lived by true hustlers , bangers and drug dealers. From the kitchen walks out a light brown complextioned female, who wore her hair close cropped like Rihanna, but bleached blond. At five foot-six inches tall and one hundred and thirty pounds, you’d automatically think of Nicky Minaj, titty wise, hip wise, and booty wise. Her name is Shay-Shay.and she walks over to the domino game unconsciously swaying her ample ass from side to side with each step, and stopped next to Acebone, leaned a thick hip clad in nothing more than panties and a pair of tight boxers on his shoulder. She reached down taking the lit blunt from his fingers.

Lem’me hit dat, boy! She said and put the blunt up to her plump lips, hitting it long and hard.

Damn bitch! Acebone shouted and pushed her off him with his shoulder, ...you bout’ta fuck my game up. Get yo’ass off me, cuz. Smelling like some day old mackeral.

She started to cough from the thick smoke as she tried to blow it out of her lungs on her way over to sit on the couch and when her fit subsided enough she responded over her shoulder Fuck you nigga and dat fuckin’ game! Then she sat down on the butter soft leather cushions on the chocolate brown couch and it begin to form around the shape of her beautiful ass and thighs. She hit the blunt two more times, experiencing the same coughing fit as before, but once she gained control she layed her head back and bounced it to the bass subbing from the Wiz Kalifa song. She felt the effects from the weed fast and welcomed it. She started looking around her apartment, admiring the freshly painted cream colored walls, the new 82 inch high def. plasma T.V. that hung on the wall across from her. She twirled her toes in the plush white wall to wall carpet just as her eyes landing on her most cherished and expensive item in the unit. A 20 X 17 Rene Thomas painting. She wasn’t into art, shit, she didn’t even know what the painting was a picture of. She’d always said it was a mish-mash of colors" but she cherished it all the same, because no one had ever given her anything her whole life without wanting something in return, until the homie looked out. She put the blunt up to her mouth and hit it, held the smoke and just like the other times she was soon coughing.

Nigga punk ass pulled bogus, cuz! Shay-Shay heard Pebbles yell at one of the other players over Beyonce’s Drunk Wit’ Love now playing. She zoned out thinking back to a few short years ago to what she called Her Tripping Years’.’ Tripping, because she felt that she’d lost herself in a man who only really ever cared about where his next blast of crack cocaine was coming from. She was sprung on the dick of a man who was sprung on the glass dick of the pipe and after six years of her chasing him around, looking for him and him taking whatever money she got her hands on, eventually she too submitted to the mighty god and begin puffing with him. She’d convinced herself it was only so that they could be together more, that he’d see her and change, but she knew deep down inside that these were lies she told herself. She knew he only had one true love and she couldn’t compete with that love. Her reality came crashing down around her the one day he walked into the house (actually a shack in the back yard of his sister’s house) heated because the police stopped him, found Ten dollars worth of crack on him and made him step on it and crush it into the ground.

That day Shay-Shay was five months pregnant with his baby and she tried to calm him down, saying Don’t trip baby, that ain’t nothing. He didn’t let her finish what she was saying before he hit her hard across the face and started savagely beating her. Before the beating was over, he’d kicked her several times in the stomach as she lay balled on the floor, then just as fast as he lit into her he stopped and left, leaving her bleeding on the floor. She suffered a miscarriage two days later and without him that was rock bottom for her. She caught the crack train heavy and because she didn’t have any money she started sucking, fucking and whatever else the person with the rocks told her to do for a hit. That life lasted for over six years.

One day back in 2011, weighing no more than one hundred and seventeen pounds wearing dirty and torn clothes and smelling bad, she went over to her mother’s house on Bandera Street in Watts - da hood-, hoping she could talk her momma into giving her a few dollars. When she got there her momma wasn’t home so she sat outside on the front porch to wait and about a hour into her wait a money green 2005 Cadillac Coup de’ville drove by bouncing and stopped three houses down, then the reverse lights came on as the caddy begin to back up until it stopped right in front of her momma’s house. She could see the man driving looking out through the passenger’s window at her and throwing his arms up in the universal sign What’s up? At first, she assummed he was a trick looking for a date, but thought better of it because no body driving a car like that would want to fuck her and she hadn’t been on this side of town in over fifteen years, so nobody knew she was a strawberry. She watched the man open the driver’s door, stand up and lean over the roof and throw his arms up again looking directly at her. She heard him say Watts up Shay, cuz?! You actin’ like yo’punk ass don’t know a nigga or sumptin! He had a smile that spread across him entire face.

She knew then that she had to know him, but still couldn’t recognize the face. Slowly the fog of crack haze begin to lift off her mind and that smile on his face screamed in her head and before long she had his name on her lips Cowboy?! She got up and started walking out towards the street and just as she stepped out the gate onto the sidewalk she said Cowboy, is that you my nigga? She attempted to smile, but it wasn’t a good look. That is you! The closer she got to him the more she recognized the look of surprise and shock at her appearance in his face, but, she also saw that his smile never once wavered or left his face. She met him at the back of his car in the middle of the street and they hugged.

My nigga! He started Cuz, I ain’t seen yo ass in like fucking twelve years!

Shay-Shay pulled back away from him and said More like fifteen, man. She looked up into his face as one of her matted and dirty braids caught on his diamond encrusted T that hung heavily from the platnum chain around his neck. Once she got it lose she said Damn, like that? I see you doing good, doe.

He didn’t answer but pulled her back to him for another hug and this time said Cuz, where da hell you been at? Shay, cuz I heard you had got married to some white boy and had a gang’a half breed babies, cuz. When she didn’t say anything he stepped back at arms length and looked her from head to toe, shaking his head. Cuz, Watts up my nigga? You sho’ ain’t lookin’ like my lil’ homegirl, Shay! Man, shit ain’t neva that bad, baby. He saw tears begin to well up in her eyes as his words sunk in and her embarrassment at how she looked, he knew she had been through the grinder and had to hate what she looked like. Cuz, don’t even trip! I got’chu... He hugged her again for a long time before he asked her Cuz, what’chu doin’?

Nothing, waiting on my momma. She mumbled now mortified at the pity he showed her.

Come on, get in! he told her, ...roll wit’ me a minute?! Once she got in the car, he had her with him for the rest of the day. They just rolled around and talked, visited all the people she grew up with but hadn’t seen in all the years she was gone, atleast all the people who weren’t dead or in prison. Later, he took her to dinner, then dropped her back off at her momma’s house that night and right before she opened the door to get out he leaned over and grabbed her wrist Shay, cuz I’m a be by in the morning - bout 9 O’clock - to scoop you up! Cuz be ready! He wasn’t asking her it was stated as a fact and he expected her to be there.

The next morning, just as he’d said, he was there at nine a.m. to pick her up. First he took her to breakfast at Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles on San Pedro and Manchester, then after they ate he took her shopping for clothes and tennis shoes. Then he drove all the way out to Marino Vally and got her hair done at their homegirl Candy’s hair Salon. Candy cuz, do somethin’ wit’ this shit on her head! He told Candy after she and Shay-Shay got caught up on all the missing years. He never once asked her if she wanted these things done, he just took control, because it was obvious to him that she’d lost all control of her life and needed some guidance and that’s just what he did. He also never asked her if she was on dope, it didn’t matter, she was now back in the fold of people who really loved her. He knew that she knew he expected her to get with his program from this point forward and stop whatever she was doing.

That very day on the way back to Watts, Shay-Shay made up her mind to come back to the hood, change her life and not hit another rock. Now three years later as she layed back survaying her plush apartment, she knew it was only because of Cowboy that she was where she was. He’d done alot for her and she loved him for it and felt obligated to him. .

Boom-boom-boom came a banging on the door that drew everyone’s attention to the direction. Acebone got up from the domino game to see who it was. When he opened the door De Man and Biscuit rushed inside, dripping water and tracking wet foot prints on the floor. Before Acebone could close the door, Shay-Shay sprung to her feet quick as wind and shouted Ahw, hell nall! Hell-da-fuck-nall! Y’all betta get y’all wet asses the fuck outta here and off my carpet! She advanced on De Man, pointing her finger in his face Turn da fuck round De Man! Get da fuck outta here and take lil’ big headed ass nigga wit’ you!

Cuz, it’s raining doe, cuz! The eighteen year old Biscuit said to Shay-Shay as if she didn’t know, like it was some deep held secret.

Yea I know lil’ fat ass nigga! That’s why you gots to go... She replied and walked up on Biscuit with her point finger poking him in the middle of his chest.

...Now get da fuck off my carpet!

Bitch, I only came to let y’all know Trina and Pan just got back... De Man said as he turned back to the door. He opened it and looked back at Shay-Shay and said ...that’s where we gon’ be. He headed out the door and right before he stepped all the way out he stompped his foot down on her carpet, then took off running followed by Biscuit.

Shay-Shay swung on Biscuit since she couldn’t get at De Man and hit him in the chest then pushed him out the door. She stuck her head out the door just as De Man reached the bottom of the stairs and yelled I’m gon’ fuck yo’ass up De Man!? She slammed the door shut and as she turned around she saw Pebbles get up from the domino table, pull up the white Baby Phat Catsuit tighter over her hips and ass. The suit was already tight on her but she had to pull it up against her puffy pussy and because the material was damn near see through, you could clearly see the imprint of her shaved pussy.

Tonja Turner, better known to everybody as Pebbles, was a smallish five-foot four-inch tall, one hundred and twenty-nine pounds at thirty-four years old and had one of the sexiest, pettie body you’d ever see. With small palm size titties that were mostly nipple - that you could also see clearly through the catsuit material - and a perfectly round booty that seemed to spread apart when she walked then clapped close at the next step, due to her bowed legs. Her face was pretty-in that hood type of way and sported old scars she received back in her gang banging days. A bonafied hood bitch who looked and acted much younger then she really was and always had a New Port Cigarette between her sexy lips.

After straightening her catsuit she bent down and wiped off a few stray ashes from her knee-high black Cole Haan Air Euphemia boots that made her ass poke out that much more. She picked up her black Burberry Medium Bowling Bag by the strap off the back of her chair. Pebbles, felt the name on her clothes had to be top notch and one of her favorite things to say is To get on this ass it’s gots to cost a grip! That went for men as well as clothes. She walked to the door and picked up her black Yunni Umbrella off the floor, opened the door and struck a sexy pose, What y’all waiting on a special invintation? Come on, shit, we might as get started. She suggested then opened the umbella, stepped out on the landing and as the rain splattered on her she tried to dance between drops saying Oooh, I don’t wanna get my boots all wet!

Taco got up after seeing Pebbles leaving and rushed out after her so he could watch the way her ass dance as it swayed and switched with her walk. Acebone, reluctantly walked over to the domino table to get his Ben Davis coat off the back of his chair. He still wanted to play, at least til this last game was done because he knew he was about to win it. He put the coat on, grabbed the bottle of E and J, twisted the top off and poured himself a full glass, then put the cap back on. He looked over at Shay-Shay with a I-dare-you-to-say-something look and on his way pass her he snatched the blunt from her fingers.

His movement was a surprise to Shay-Shay and she was a little slow in reacting and closed her fingers on empty air. Embarressed that he out-smarted her, she said I don’t know why yo punk ass actin’ like a bitch can’t hit that funky shit. Nigga if I wanted that you know damn well yo mark ass gon’ bring it back to me. You ain’t gon’ tell me no! She winked at him and smiled sexily as she shot a hip out in his direction teasing him, then she broke the spell she had on him when she said Now, get da fuck on, nigga!

Acebone, standing out on the landing was watching her movements and replied Bitch, that tank top and’em tight ass boxers don’t mean shit to a real playa like da Bone, hoe! He turned and walked down the landing to the stairs with Shay-Shay laughing behind him.

I’ll be down there in a minute, I just got’ta put something on. Shay-Shay said to Acebone then closed the door. She turned around and noticed lil’ Lowdown still sitting in his chair at the table eyeing her and smoking on a blunt. She walked pass him on her way to her bedroom to put on some clothes, then stopped just pass him, put her hands on her hips and stared at him Lil nigga, what you waiting on? Sitting there wit’ dribble running down from the corners of yo mouth. Get yo young ass up outta here boy, watching my ass like that. Like you think you could fade this or something.

His smile broke and almost split his head in two. He was grinning so hard and imagining he was about to hit the big homegirl Shit Shay-Shay, I know what to do wit’ it! You ought’a let the lil’ homie get yo groove back, cuz. I mean damn man, you ain’t letting nobody hit that and I can tell it’s bomb bay - lil’ Lowdown said.

Man, get the fuck outta my house, boy. Acting like a grown man... She said cutting him off, then pointed to the door, ...ain’t nobody tripping what yo’ lil’ horny ass talking bout.

Lil Lowdown jumped up hearing the tone in her voice change and he headed for the door You don’t know what you passing up on Shay-Shay. A young nigga like me a stay up in that warm coochie fo’ you, have yo thick ass sprung! He told her at the door.

Yeah that’s real cool and I’m cool too. You just make sure to sprung yo young horny ass out my door, nigga. I’ll have yo boney ass round here wantin’ to kill up everythang moving if I let you get a taste of this hot stuff I’m workin’ wit’ boy. She told him and waited til he was gone before she went on in her room.

***

The Town Square Apartments, located in the middle of the block on Holmes Avenue, between Ninety-Seventh Street and Century Boulevard. They consist of twelve units, six in each parallel block with a court yard of grass in between the blocks, which all apartments faced. From Holmes Avenue all you would be able to see is the sidewalls and the gate you must go through in order to enter. A few flowers and trees decorated the front and a stone path lead the way from the gate to the sidewalk. And for security reasons, the gate is always closed and locked and only opened with a key or the gate keeper, who live in the first unit and employed by the apartment owner.

Shay-Shay occupied unit five on the second floor of the North block, middle apartment. Unit one is the gate keeper, unit two is Trina’s and unit three is Acebone’s. Units four and six are rented to people who’ve lived in the apartments for many many years. Across the courtyard in the South block, De Man stayed in unit seven, Pebbles in unit eight and Taco’s spot was unit nine (although he had his unit upstairs in number twelve). Units four, six, ten and eleven were the only units not involved in some way with the drug trade.

Shay-Shay opened unit nine’s door and the air that rushed out pass her was thick and permeated with the sweet scent of Kush and a lighter smell of heroin. The chatter of many voices talking all at the same time also greeted her as the smells hit her, now that she finally made it down after getting dressed. If dressed is what you’d call it, because the Juicey Shorts she’d put on were just as short and even tighter then the boxers, but the wife beater was still there and still without a bra. She filled out her clothes well now, cause over the pass three years she’d put on over thirty pounds in all of the right places.

The interior of unit nine wasn’t any where as nicely furnished as her unit. A twelve foot table with a lamenated table took up the majority of the room in the living room with four chairs on either side of it. A couple of worn couches sat along the wall across from a fifty-two inch plasma television on the wall. The only other thing in the room was a JVC Stereo system and a large plastic trash container in the corner.

Shay-Shay took a seat on the right side of the table closest to the kitchen and asked What y’all bring? Talking to Trina who was busy setting up the tools of their trade.

Don’t even trip, suga, cause you gon’ be in this bitch fo’ a long ass time today. De man answered her from across the table.

Yelp! Cuz, but you knew da job was gon’ be long and dangerous before you took it! Biscuit said sitting next to De Man with an electronic scale on the table in fron of him.

Nigga dat shit don’t even sound right, yo stupid ass try’na make up shit... Pebbles said to Biscuit, ...you need to have yo big baby huey lookin’ ass in school anyway... Then she took a drag on her New Port and when she blew the smoke out she asked What da hell we starting wit’? Cause I hope that weed ain’t the last thang we get to, that shit is too hard on a bitch’s fingers once I get tired. She hit the cigarette one last long time then stubbed it out and she took out her pack, took another smoke from it, lit it then blew the smoke out in Taco’s direction across the table from her.

Taco ignored her and tipped his chair back onto two legs, rubbed his hardening dick as he stared at Pebbles nipples. To play it off he said If you don’t wanna end wit’ da weed then we could start wit’ that. It’s all kinds a shit in da kitchen Pebbs, ex-pills, bud, a big ass bag of oxycotin. Who da fuck round here mess wit’ oxy? He asked nobody in particular then said Da homie Cowboy probably fuckin’ wit’ some white boys off some place he sneeks off to, you know how dat fool do.

Really doe, I could give a damn what we start wit’ as long as we get crackin’ now. Cause yo boy got this lil’ tight ass pine apple honey in Carson to pick up tonight. So let’s do this. Acebone said as he sat and waited for something to be put in front of him.

Pam carried a big plastic punch bowl and sat it down on the table and right behind her came Trina with a bag that she emptied out into the bowl. Thousands of extasy pills tumbled out filling up the bowl then both took seats and started sacking up fifty pills per bag.

Pam Prescot is a white girl, but a white girl in color only. She didn’t grow up in Watts as the rest ‘em, but she showed over the years that this was where she truly belonged. The hood became part of who she is. She moved on Beach Street back in 2006 as a fifteen year old run away to live with their twenty-seven year old homie Pickle, from South Carolina. She stayed with Pickle for three years before he got tired of fucking her and kicked her and their two kids out, in order to move his new eighteen year old girlfriend in. At eighteen herself, with two kids and no place to go, because her own family refused and stopped fucking with her when they found out she was with a black man and had his kids, but over those three years Pam had made many close friends and hung out so much that she was accepted as one of the homegirls. So she was able to stay with a homegirl named Peaches and her momma, ten houses down from Pickle’s house. Then she had to hustle because Pickle wasn’t about to do nothing for her or his kids. She took to the dope game hard and fast and soon enough she came to the attention of Big Cowboy, who pulled her in and used her skin color to transport his drugs without fear that the police would pull her over as they would anybody black.

De man Cuz, go turn on some music, my nigga. Pebbles asked, then added after seeing the way he looked at her Please? Nigga you sittin’ ova’ there lookin’ stupid, reach yo ass over and turn something on.

Cuz I wouldn’t do shit! This bitch gettin’ at you like you some kinda mark cuz. Acebone told De Man and everybody in the room started laughing.

Nigga yes you will! I bet if I asked you to turn it on you would get yo ass up and walk all the way over to that shit and turn it on. Shay-Shay told him and winked at him. Acebone I got yo nose open so damn wide I could drive a fuckin’ truck through it.

Yeah right! Cuz, I ain’t gon’ keep accepting all this verbal abuse from you hoes, especially you bitch! He told Shay-Shay. Bitch thankin’ cause you got a fuckin’ thick ass I’m some kinda sucker. I’m a start bendin’ yo ass over my knee and tappin’ dat booty the way you know you want it tapped. He got up, went to the stereo and picked out a disc and a moment later Bob Marley’s "No More Trouble" blaired through the speakers.

Shay-Shay waited til he turned around on his way back to his seat before she grabbed both her titties and held them up saying Nigga you ain’t never that slick, I know you just wanna feel on some of this fine thick body. You know and I know you gon’ do whatever a bitch like me tell you to do. She stopped teasing him when he sat down then said See, didn’t nobody even ask you to turn shit on, but you hopped yo ass up anyway cause yo mind was on my thick ass booty, huh?

She loved playing with Acebone cause she knew he wanted her bad, but it was all in fun and she wasn’t bout to start fucking the homies. She had one person in mind and was waiting for her chance to prove herself to him. Nigga sitting in here talking bout a pine apple bitch in Carson. Don’t none’a us give’a fuck ole weak dick nigga!

For the next several hours, they clowned, counted, cut, weighed and bagged. Clowned and bagged, chopped and weighed, til they had finished and Pebbles stood up, lit a New Port and said Ooh damn, I gotta pee bad! She walked off down the hallway towards the bathroom.

De Man, Taco, Biscuit and Acebone stopped what they were doing in order to watch Pebbles’ pretty ass jiggle down the hall.

Y’all be lookin’ at my ass like that, huh? Pam said standing next to the kitchen, succeeding in pulling their attention away from Pebbles bouncing goodies.

Everybody including Trina and Shay-Shay burst out laughing and Taco leaned his chair down before saying Bitch! What ass?! Pam, you know you ain’t got no ass. So stop playing! You always looking back to see who checkin’ them lil’ white girl cheeks out.

Shit fool, I don’t know what you talkin’ bout, I got junk in my trunk... Pam replied then turned away from him, bent over and did her form of the twerk dance while singing My humps, my humps, my lovely little lumps. For some reason her dance looked alot like Miley Cyrus trying to twerk.

Girl, you betta stop all that shit before you leave outta here with anotha kid, the way these wolves all up in yo booty. Trina told her when she’d calmed down from laughing at her, then seeing the way the men acted when she said something about them watching Pam’ass she added, I bet if she spread them legs everyone of y’all nasty limp dick niggas would kill to fuck!

I bet you she open them white legs to me, I’m gon’ knock it down right, just like I would do you, big homegirl! Biscuit spoke truthfully hoping one of them dared him or took the bait. But on the real my nigga, you sound like you mad. You got a taste fo’ her or sumptin, Trina?You like dat fish too, huh?"

Before Trina could respond, De Man’s cell phone started blairing a sound that cut in over the beat of the music and drew everyone’s attention. He answered it saying Watts poppin’? then he listened to the caller. ...Bitch, I wouldn’t giv’a fuck! I don’t know how you ever thought dat! he paused and listened, then said ...Cuz, you need to tell dat nigga you lettin’ fuck you dat! he listened and a smile broke across his face. ...Don’t even worry bout all that baby! You stay try’na throw a nigga some coochie when you in need. But I’m cool doe! My bitch might not like dat... he listened then said ...Bitch! That’s what you got a nigga fo’ right? You should’a thought bout that when you choose to fuck that slob nigga... He paused and listened then the smile turned into a smirk then a frown. ...Fuck you bitch! Punk-ass tramp! Hood rat ass slut! I wouldn’t giv’a rat’s ass... he listened then said Alright, alright, okay. Cuz this what you got’ta do. Put a blind fold over yo’ eyes and climb ova’ da railing on the 105 Freeway. Walk across all eight lanes and back, then if yo tramp ass make it without getting hit, I’ll think bout shootin it yo’ way! Then he quickly clicked his phone off, denying the caller any opportunity to give the slightest reply.

Cuz, I’m startin’! Anybody wanna roll to get sumptin’ to eat? I got’ta go get some food. Biscuit said and looked at De Man, then asked Cuz, who da fuck you trippin’ on? That was some crazy shit you said... He picked up his jacket from the back of his chair - one that was poorly suited for the type of weather - and put it on. ...Come on cuz, you goin’ wit’ me?

Nall, I’m good, but you could bring a nigga back something. De Man told him. Yeah, that was my tramp ass baby momma, try’na dig in my pockets. Bitch got the nerve to get at me every time she wanna go some place or buy some shit. Cuz, the bitch got a nigga, some red rag fool, but stay ridin’ my dick when she want some paper.

Cuz, fuck all that! Anybody else want something? Biscuit asked the room losing interest in De Man and his baby-momma bullshit. He started taking orders from those who did want him to bring them something.

Yeah like that, huh? I feel you doe cuz. Acebone begin. These punk ass bitches be playin’ all these games, thankin’ a nigga stupid. Knowin’ all they want in the end is some paper.

Don’t you know Bone, niggas is stupid! Especially when it comes to a real bitch and that bitch know he diein’ to stick his face between her legs. Shay-Shay chimed in still fucking with Acebone.

Bitch, you ain’t takin’ no pee, hoe! We smell that do-do way da fuck out here! Taco yelled for Pebbles still in the bathroom. ...Cuz cut dat lil’ cute turd off and bring yo’ ass on so we can go get something to eat!

Oooh! Hold on punk, I’m comin’! They heard Pebbles say from behind the closed bathroom door, then they heard the toilet flush, followed by the tap-tap of her high heeled boots over the floor as she walked towards the living room. Nigga, gim’me my coat and umbrella, cause a bitch is hungry as a wolf! She entered the room demanding.

Shit Pebbles, cuz you ain’t got no damn coat, baby. You walkin’ round here in dat tight ass, sexy suit like you hot... Taco explained to her while his eyes drunk in every inch and conture of her pussy print.

Cuz did yo nasty ass wash yo hands my nigga? Biscuit inquired. ...I know you came runnin’ up out’ta there soon as you heard Food. So I’m just checkin’ big homegirl.

Pebbles cut Biscuit a look then said Fuck you! Come on man, who all goin’? then she mumbled something unintelligible about washing hands. "Come on Taco and walk yo’ mannish-ass in front me, I don’t want you all up in my ass. A couple of minutes more and Pebbles, Biscuit and Taco were gone.

After they’d left Pam asked De Man De Man, where Stacey live now?’ I ain’t seen her for a while. That’s yo’ personal prostitute now, huh? She laughed then asked ...how yo’lil boy? Man, you can’t blaime her De man, she probably trippin’ cause you got anotha hoe and ain’t got’ta play her games.

‘Yelp! I knew when she found out about my bitch, cause she really started throwin’ the pussy my way. Like on a daily! De Man told’em. Not that I was hidin’ shit from her, but I just could tell. Anyway, fuck Stacey!

As long as yo’ass take care of yo’son, fuck what a bitch talkin’ bout, Trina said tossing her two cents into the subject. ...Yo’ass betta watch out doe, cause the next thing you know she’ll be trackin’ yo’ new bitch down, tellin’ her all kinds’a shit like y’all just fucked, gettin’ in yo’ bitches head.

Nall I don’t think so, Stacey ain’t like that... De Man said in responce to Trina’s words, ...now she might try to fuck my bitch up or run her over or sumptin’ like that. That’s more Stacey’s style. Bitch you know how Stacey get down, you done had a few run in wit’ her.

And I whooped that bitch ass every time, too. Trina said wit’ confidence.

Yeah right bitch! Shay-Shay begin ...I ain’t gon’ lie you got her, but she got yo’ass too. I remember she was waitin’ fo’ you by yo’locker and when you hit the corner I swear I thought you was bout to start cryin’, She started laughing with De Man, while Trina smirked.

Bitch, I fucked Stacey ass up that day, I don’t know what fight you was watching, Trina started to defend her