Havoc and Mayhem Page 4

  Havoc bowed his head back never bothering to check if it was all there, because it always was. “So, how’s your son doing Mister Chung?”

  The Asian man’s face dropped and he sighed remorsefully. “Doing much better, thank you. His eyes finally opened. But Doctors say he still has long-long way to go. I am headed over now to see him and give my wife a break.”

  Havoc’s eyes tightened and he reached his hand out the window and gripped Mister Chung’s shoulder. “If he’s half as strong as his father is then he’ll pull through fine.” Mister Chung bowed at Havoc’s kind words. “If you need me for anything else, you know how to reach me.”

  “Thank you again Havoc. Oh, and have a happy New Year. And you too Mayhem.” Mister Chung said waving until Havoc’s car disappeared into the night.

  It was too early to call it a night and Havoc knew the hottest nightclub in Brooklyn, ‘Smitty’s Supper Club,’ would be jumping about this time. Not to mention he was starting to get a serious case of the munchies brought on by the weed. Normally after smoking a fat one only his appetite was affected, but for some reason the weed had him feeling paranoid because he could swear that a black Mercedes Benz with tinted windows had been tailing him for three blocks. When the dark German-made car made a left on Belmont and disappeared he felt silly and assumed his paranoia was fueled by the spliff. Shrugging it off he twisted the radio knob to radio personalities Mister Magic and super producer Marley Marl who fill New York’s hoods with soundtracks to the streets. When a familiar beat came on he pumped up the volume smiling approvingly, as he sang along with Slick Rick and Doug E. Fresh to their hit song, ‘The Show’.

  Sitting at a light, Havoc bopped his head to the music as Mayhem began making low angry growling sounds from the back seat. “What is it girl? Timmy’s fallen down the well?” her master joked then realized something was up and muted the sounds. Mayhem continued growling, locked on what was past the windshield, baring fangs and snarling. Confused by his dog’s erratic behavior, Havoc stared through the windshield to see what had her so spellbound, but only saw dark, barren, windy streets. “Shush! Quiet down Mayhem! Ain’t nobody out there.” he said. “See?” Suddenly a limp body slammed up against the windshield with a loud thud and rolled down onto the hood. Mayhem went into a barking frenzy. “Oh shit!” Havoc jumped startled, then dipped down and popped back up with both Glock’s ready to lick-shots. His heart was tap dancing on his tongue and his fingers stroked the triggers ready to squeeze. He strained at the face mashed against his windshield and paused perplexed when he recognized it. The man stretched out on his car popped open his eyes and he winked with a goofy smile.

  “There he is! The man who I wanna be when I grow up.” the faker declared.

  Havoc shook his head while cursing under his breath and lowered his guns. “Jesus Bug-Out, what the hell’s your problem? You trying to catch a bullet?” he yelled then turned to calm his dog down.

  Bug-Out was too busy laughing to answer. “I gotcha!”

  “No, you almost got it!”

  “Oh man you should’ve seen your face. Havoc and Mayhem my ass! Y’all look more like a ghetto Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.” he said imitating Havoc fumbling for his guns.

  Havoc glared at Bug-Out dividing his attention to Mayhem. “Your ass play too damn much. Easy girl! It’s all right, I’m here. It’s only Bug-Out’s ignorant ass, see.”

  “I know you are but what am I?” Bug-Out teased impersonating Pee Wee Herman then tapped on the window, “Hav, yo Havoc open up man, it’s freezing out here.”

  “Crap!” Havoc sucked his teeth as he stroked Mayhem’s head to calm her down. After a second, he leaned over and unlocked the door.

  Bug-Out opened the door and stuck his head in and Mayhem snarled. “Yo what’s up with Cujo?”

  Havoc glanced back at his dog then smiled sinisterly, “If I bark, she bites.” Bug-Out wasn’t sure how he should perceive that and paused deciding if he should get in or not. “Man, either get in or shut the damn door!”

  “Ok quit illin’,” Bug-Out said and swallowed hard then slid his skinny frame in the front while keeping a watchful eye on Mayhem. Five minutes into the ride he turned to Havoc with his hand outstretched. “So happy New Year my nigga!”

  Havoc turned his nose up at him like he smelled something foul. “I told you before, address your homeboys with that word not me. I don’t play that.”

  “My bad Homey D. Clown.” Bug-Out giggled. Havoc rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Kidding. Geez, where’s your sense of humor?”

  Havoc sighed. He hated to hear black people mentally oppress one another referring to one other as ‘nigger’ or it’s sub variations, nigga and niggaz. It struck a chord with him that Black kids ignorantly used it as a term of endearment or universal greeting, manipulating it’s sound and meaning like it was their own personal word. And it infuriated him that those who said it never once took into consideration the horrific history of that word or that it was the last thing many of their ancestors heard before they died at the end of a rope. Bug-Out, on the other hand, felt Havoc was overreacting and gave the word way too much power when it was only that, a word. Hell, everybody calls each other nigga. From Black people to Puerto Ricans, to the backwards baseball cap wearing white boys that listened to rap and hung out on Kings highway. And if controversial gangsta rappers like N.W.A. said it in their lyrics and respected comedians like Richard Pryor used it in their act how could it possibly be a diss? But since he seldom saw Havoc he did not want to argue.

  “I’m sorry, ok? You’ll never hear me call you that again.” Bug-Out apologize.

  Havoc nodded that he accepted his apology and moved on. “Damn dawg, I can’t believe it’s eighty-eight already. Eighty-seven just flew by.”

  “Tell me about it. Time in general is flying by. Before you know it, it’ll be the year two thousand. I wonder what that’ll be like. You think that we’ll be like the Jetsons, riding around in flying cars and shit? Cause that’d be dope.” Bug-Out said.

  Havoc cut his eyes over at Bug-Out and snickered. “Man you always did read to many damn comic books.”

  “Whatever!” Bug-Out said and took a long sip from his brown paper bag then let out a nasty sounding belch.

  “Damn! What’re you drinking?” Havoc frowned, fanning the air.

  “Peach Cisco. You want some?” Bug-Out offered.

  “I’ll pass.”

  Bug-Out peeped the wine coolers on the floor. “Yeah, wine is fine, but Calvin’s Coolers, huh?”

  “It’s better than that liquid crack you’re sucking on.”

  “This here is all good. ‘Sides, ain’t no other drink on the market’s gonna get you fuuugged up like dis here for the low-low price of tree-fiddy.”

  “I’ll let you tell it. Anyway, what are you doing all the way over here this time of night by yourself?”

  “Who me?”

  “No Mayhem. Of course you, who else would I be talking to?”

  Bug-Out sang along with the radio to Prince’s, Let’s go Crazy, then suddenly laughed out loud, “Yo you think Prince is gay?”

  “Huh-what?” Havoc asked confused.

  “At first I did, cause homeboy be wearing some crazy looking gear. And what’s up with the makeup and high heels? But then I got to thinking, Prince keeps a bad bitch. Apolonia, Shelia E., Vanity. Nah dude ain’t no homo. No way.”

  Havoc cut his eyes at Bug-Out picking up on how he was trying to change the subject but had other things on his mind and let it go. “I’m headed over to Smitty’s you wanna roll?”

  “And walk up in the club with you looking all Marty McFly? Thanks, but no thanks! My ego is fragile enough.”

  “Suit yourself. I can drop you home on the way if you want.”

  “Bet, that’ll work.” Bug-Out smiled rapping his fingers on the dashboard to the beat. “So, since you’re driving this sexy red bitch and you’re dressed accordingly, I guess it’s safe to assume you just fini
shed consulting somebody’s ass. So, who was it this time?”

  “Dude, my name ain’t Keith so stop sweating me.” Havoc said through an exasperated breath.

  “Well excuuuuse me.”

  “You know I never discuss my work. And I hope you aren’t going around blabbing we’re related.”

  “Relax, take a chill-pill. It’s not like I walk up to fools I don’t know and be like, ‘Hey you know that dude Havoc that be serving up piping hot beat-downs like IHOP except no syrup? Well he’s my little cousin.’ Damn near raised him.”

  Havoc looked at him like he was full of shit, “You told somebody didn’t you?”

  “Nobody I swear. Word to Big Bird,” Bug-Out promised. “Although, according to the ladies I have been known to talk in my sleep.” He winked.

  “This isn’t a joke Bug Out. I have enemies. And I make new ones every day. And if they can’t get to me personally then they might try another route. Got it?” Havoc said.

  “Chill out cousin. I was just jiving with you. I didn’t tell anybody.” Bug-Out said with an unconcerned wink. “Look, I know you on some secret squirrel shit but there’s one thing I gotta ask regarding your whole Trouble Consulting thing. And then I’ll stop sweating you.”

  “And that is?” Havoc asked eyeing Bug-Out with a dubious glare.

  “How is it you don’t carry a phone? A beeper? How’s a motherfucker supposed to contact you smoke signals?”

  “I prefer to use pay phones when I’m moving around in the street. Reason being, what if I’m throwing hands and lose my phone? I’m supposed to trust that little plastic belt clip to hold something big as a VCR on my hip?”

  “Maybe one day they’ll make phones small enough to fit in your pocket.” Bug-Out reasoned.

  “Yeah right. Why not have them take pictures and tell you the weather while you’re at it.”

  “Ok but what about beepers?”

  “I don’t want anybody having twenty-four seven access to me. If we made plans, you know I’m coming.”

  “You mean them hoes know right?” his cousin grinned.

  Havoc shook his head and blew steam through his nostrils. “I swear man the older you get, the younger you act.”

  “Hey thirty-nine’s not old.” Bug-Out snapped defensively. He hated being reminded that he was closing in on forty. It was bad enough his knees popped every morning when he got out of bed and his stomach was starting to lap over his belt from too much beer. To make himself appear younger he got his haircut in a Cameo hi-top fade and shaved parts into his right eyebrow. His efforts did very little to subtract years off his appearance.

  Havoc looked over at him disappointedly. He wished that his cousin would get his act together. It really bothered him that the man he grew up watching kung-fu movies on Forty second street, riding huffy bicycles and playing skelly with, could not keep a stable job or take care of his own child. Another thing that concerned him was the floating rumor that Bug-Out had lavish habits.

  Bug-Out suddenly began coughing violently like he was choking to the point his eyes watered, and his lemon-skinned complexion turned beet red.

  “Jesus man, you Okay?” Havoc asked concerned.

  Bug-Out leaned back in his seat looking worn out. “Yeah I’m cool. I just can’t seem to shake this cold. I’ve had it for almost two weeks now. Some days it hits me so hard I can’t even get out of bed.”

  “Well no wonder, it’s freezing outside and all you have on is that thin ass track suit that’s got you looking like you’re straight outta Beat Street,”

  “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.” Bug-Out said then glanced at the blinking dashboard. “I’ll give it to you cousin your car is da bomb but it can’t compete with my old Brougham.” he said.

  “Havoc sucked his teeth and cut his eyes over at Bug-Out like he was crazy. “I know you’re not talking about that Rickety Rocket looking Cadillac my pops gave you when you turned eighteen?”

  “Hey, the Mack mobile was no piece of junk, and it could give any of dem fool ass drag racers behind Starrett City a run for their money.”

  “Now I dunno what car you’re talking about, but the ride I’m talking about was as junky as Sanford and Son’s front yard, it leaked oil and you had to roll down the window to unlock the door.” Havoc laughed.

  “That car was off the hook.” Bug-Out said unconvincingly.

  “More like, it needed to be hauled off by one. So next Friday my moms and I are throwing Tee-Tee a birthday party. Can you make it? Everybody’s going to be there, Nanna and Grandpa Smurf, Sidney, Marie and the twins, Lil Dee, Cameron, Aunt Cookie, Uncle Booze, Aunt Glo-Dee, Faye, Gus, everybody. Aunt Mary didn’t tell you?”

  “Nah, she and I are taking a break. But how come you’re just asking me now?”

  “I tried calling but Ma Bell said your phone was disconnected.”

  “Oh yeah,” Bug-Out chuckled embarrassed. “So you said Uncle Booze is gonna be there?”

  Havoc nodded. “Yup. Oh you know who else is coming? Olivia. She’s driving up from DC with her fiancé some Spanish dude named Hector. I hear Money’s a doctor.” Havoc said.

  “So, homeboy’s a P.R.D.R.?” Bug-Out laughed as he thought about his distant family he had not seen in a while. “Sounds like a blast, count me in.”

  “Cool. Then be at Nicky’s next Friday around three.”

  Bug-Out turned to Havoc looking confused. “Whoa, it’s at Nicky’s? Your ex-wife Nicky?”

  “I was only married to one woman named Nicky.”

  “But how come you’re having it at Nicky’s? I thought it was over with you two.”

  Havoc frowned like he’d been knifed in the arm. “It is over. But our-I mean her place is big enough to house everybody. Besides you know how tight she and my moms still are. And Tee-Tee loves her to death.”

  Bug-Out frowned like he wasn’t buying it. “Aw go-head wit dat Cuzzo. Tee-Tee loves everybody. But I’m saying, why not just rent a spot and have it there?”

  “Good question. Unfortunately, I don’t have a good answer. I figured my moms was just trying to save a few bucks by having it at Nicky’s and-son of a bitch!” Havoc hissed when he violently bounced over a pothole. “This is the shit that pisses me off. Why doesn’t the city do something about these damn holes? If this were Howard Beach, they would’ve been fixed this. But since we’re in the middle of Bed-Stuy do or die, nobody gives a flying fuck about a brotha’s car…What was I saying again?” he asked screw-faced.

  “You figured Aunt Carla was trying to save a few bucks by having Tee-Tee’s party at Nicky’s and-”

  “Oh yeah-yeah. I figured she was trying to save a few bucks so I offered to pay to rent out the Empire Roller Skating Rink.”

  Bug-Out slumped low in his chair smiling. “Damn. I ain’t been there since we was kids. Hey ‘member how we used to go there on Friday nights and compete to see who’d pull the most girl’s phone numbers? Then after it closed, we’d smoke til we was high as muthafuckin Cheech and Chong and go across the street to White Castle’s to get our grub on. Oh yo, how about the time Beverly and Tracy was fighting and Tracy’s big ol’ titties popped out of her tube top? We was hooting and hollering and she was like, ‘Grow up! Y’all act like y’all ain’t never seen no titties before?’”

  Havoc laughed as he reminisced. “And you said, ‘We have but, we ain’t never seen your titties before.’” the two exploded into laughter slapping each other five. “Damn those were the days.”

  “True dat. When safe sex meant your parents weren’t home. I swear I wish we could start off old and grow young.” Bug-Out said laughing.

  “Now that would truly be dope.” Havoc nodded with a slight grin.

  “Word you should do that cousin.” Bug-Out said jumping back on the subject of Tee-Tee’s party. “Skating and reminiscing to Shalamar and Peaches and Herb, Chaka Khan and Rufus. It’d be maaad fun.”

  “True it would be kinda flyy. But my moms said Tee-Tee’s
already got her heart set on having it at Nicky’s.”

  “So let me get this straight. Tee-Tee would rather have her party at Nicky’s instead of at a skating rink?”

  “According to Carla Pinkney she would.”

  Bug-Out twitched his lips skeptically. “If you say so. But won’t that be kinda uncomfortable for you?”

  “Nah, it’s no big deal.” Havoc shrugged.

  “Really? You’re a better man than me cause I’d be like, ‘Oh hell no!’ Especially when I used to live there and now-”

  “Dammit Bug-Out, I said it’s no big deal!” Havoc snapped with flared nostrils. His tone made both Bug-Out and Mayhem jump.

  “Sooooo-um you want Laquita to make some potato salad or fry some chicken.” Bug-Out asked wisely changing the subject.

  “Nah don’t even sweat that Bee. There’ll be plenty of food and liquor there. Just bring Laquita and A.J. around three.” Havoc said with an angry face.

  “Aight.” Bug-Out nodded covering a yawn then leaned back and closed his eyes.

  Twenty minutes later Havoc’s car slowed into park, a block and a half away from the Marcy housing projects where his cousin lived.

  “Bug-Out wake up. Man wake up punk, you’re home. Yo Bug-Out!” Havoc said shoving him. Bug-Out mumbled something incoherent, farted, scratched himself and began to snore once more.

  While his cousin snored like a buzz saw Havoc noticed his slovenly appearance for the first time. Even though he had a hearty appetite Bug-Out always looked undernourished. As a kid he was a wiz on the basketball court, but he was so skinny he had to put wristbands around his calves to keep his tube socks up. But this time in addition to being rail-thin he also looked sickly. His clothes looked bad too. Instead of a coat he had on more layers than a Duncan Hines cake to battle the cold. His hair needed a comb run through it and he smelled like he could use a shower. Havoc was astonished. Growing up Bug-Out was the shade wearing player type who always rocked a toothpick between his teeth and stayed dip in the illest gear. When Laquita became pregnant, Havoc couldn’t remember Bug-Out ever sitting down. He was either returning from one job or headed out to another taking care of his responsibilities. Something was wrong, big time.