Kelvin Jackson - It Was All A Dream

“Man, I’m so glad you’re finally home K-day. We were really getting fucked over when we copped while you were gone. This should definitely hold us for a while.”

“Aight Jeff. I’ll probably be back after I make my rounds. If yall aint stuck in the basement, I’ll see you then.”

K headed out the door and to the rental. He opened the door to a carfull of weed smoke and was hit in the face with a cloud of Kush. Blass passed K the blunt when he got in. Pook was in the middle of a freestyle spittin’ a verse over a track from their homey named NATO. Nate Tinsley was undisputedly the hardest working track monster in the hood that never got the recognition he deserved. K’s homey from five years old; he would always show him love.

As if on cue, when Pook came to a break in his freestyle, Blass came in right behind him. K was listening but he kind of zoned out for a second concerning matters of the heart. He was thinking about Mattie. Ever since the last time he’d seen her pull away from the side of Interstate 95 North in Maryland, she had never been totally off his mind. He’d been home for three weeks and still hadn’t seen her or had a clue as to where she was.

“Come on K-Mo, let me hear sumthin. I know you waswritin’ in the county,” said Blass bringing K back from his reverie.

They had been in the studio a few times before. K knew his skills were nowhere near the level of what theirs was metaphorically, but he was definitely a notable MC in his own right. And it was true that K had been writing while in the county, more as an outlet than anything else. So he couldn’t front on his dudes. K banged out 16 bars-o-heat and they went nuts.

“Oh yeah?! That’s how you doing it now? “asked Pook.

“Let me find out you holdin out on us big cuzzin, “said Blass smiling.

“You know I had to step my game up fuckin wit yall… nah mean?

A couple of minutes later they were pulling up at Ms. Vicki’s crib. Ms. Vicki was Pooks moms. Pook went inside and handled business with his cousin who was there waiting. When he came out and got in the car he handed K the money for the sale.

“Where we headed K?” asked Blass.

“I gotta check on Lonnie, Norma, and Cash,” K answered talking about the three crack spots he’d started since he came home.

“Drop me at the crib K. I gotta check in wit Wifey,” said Pook.

K felt a little stab in the heart, again thinking about Mattie.

“Aight Pook. What about you Blass? You wit me?”

“No doubt big cuzzin! Let’s make moves.”

K headed to drop Pook off at his crib, but he still couldn’t shake those thoughts of Mattie.

K-Mo and Blass had gone and checked out two of K’s spots. He picked up the money that had been in the streets from two spots and told Norma and Cash that he would be back to bring them more work in a couple of hours. K didn’t really feel comfortable riding around with over 10g’s on him. Especially knowing that the undercover cops turned the heat up a couple of notches on Fridays.

Wyandanch is a small suburban ghetto, but equivalent in crime to a city housing project. For this reason as well as many others it had earned the title Crimedanch. A niggah getting that money for real had to stay on point and on the lookout for them thirsty broke-ass stick-up kids. K learned to keep the heat (gun) close from the mistake of others. I’d rather be judged by twelve then carried by six , was his motto.

After thinking about the time it would take for him to go and put up the money he had on him and the time it would take for him to drive about five minutes to Lonnie’s spot to check on his dough, K put his faith in the Glock.45 automag and went to check on his paper. The front yard at Lonnie’s was poppin as usual on a Friday night. Lawn chairs were spread out and filled with people from the neighborhood and around town that was down with the set, sipping on something. Music from the 70’s filled the atmosphere from the one house speaker that sat on the front porch.

K and Blass pulled up in the rental and parked across the street from the house along with ten other cars that were parked out front. Lonnie was sitting at the table with a few of his sidekicks playing spades and smoking a joint when they pulled up. K was met with various greetings as he entered the front yard.

“Get you a partner and run a game wit us big boy,” said Black Justice.

“Why you tryna get dis niggah to sit in this hot ass front yard? You know he can’t be seen posted up over here by 5–0!” said Lonnie.

“Nah Lon,it’s cool. Fuck them pigs — I gots to fuck wit my peoples. The boys in blue already know what I do. I just can’t be dirty when I chill. But I got madd shit to do tonight. Sunday we gonna get down though, drinks and trees on me, ”said K.

“That’s what’s up,” said Justice.

K knew Lonnie was only looking out for his best interest as well as his own by screaming on Justice. Lonnie removed himself from the table and directed K to follow him into the house. The interior of the home was furnished with all the latest rent-a- center exclusives. A 60 inch HD flat screen was the first thing that was noticed after entering the front door. His daughter’s Mya and Moesha were enjoying themselves playing X-Box-360 in the small living room as Lonnie’s wife of 12 years lounged on a large green leather loveseat.

“I fried some chicken and made some bangin’ ass mac and cheese if you hungry K,” said Lonnie’s old lady Gwen.

K had the munchies but he was more focused on handling his business and getting up outta dodge. He saw the look on Blass’s face and knew that he was trying to grub. The munchies had that niggah too.

“Why don’t you fix my man Blass a plate and if you got some paper plates and aluminum foil, fix me up something to go while me and Lonnie handle business.”

“Go ahead and hook that up babe. We’ll be out in about ten minutes,” said Lonnie.

As they headed into Lonnie’s bedroom, K said to Blass over his shoulder, “I’ll be right out.”

“Man you got here just in time. I only got eleven of them thangs left and the fiends been runnin all day long,” said Lonnie going into his closet.

K had had a drop floor stash spot installed to hold all the work in Lonnie’s bedroom closet floor the week before. Lonnie removed two large $TAXXX of bills and tossed them on the bed.

“That’s $7000; $3500 in each stack. You know I always make yours first. I’ve had that there for a few hours now.”

K sat down and removed the rubber bands off the money and began counting. That was one rule he had when it came to his paper. Always count money during a transaction. By the time K finished counting his money Lonnie was patiently waiting and counting his own. As K put the rubber bands back on his $TAXXX, there was a knock at the bedroom door. It was Lonnie’s chick.

“Babe I know you handlin business, but you got about six customers out here,” she said through the door.

“Aight-aight. I’ll be right out,” he looked at K. “See what I’m sayin K? This shit is poppin!”

“I’ma go and put this paper up and I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”

As they exited Lonnie’s bedroom K saw the line of customers waiting to be served. The first one to catch his eye was the skinny white dude. He looked out of place and extremely nervous. Lonnie noticed the expression on K’s face.

“Paul. Why don’t you wait in my room? I’ll be in there in a minute,” Lonnie said to the cab driver.

After Paul went into Lonnie’s bedroom, Lonnie turned to K.

“I saw the look on your face and I’ve seen him get high enough times to know he aint no cop. He drives for SUNSET YELLOW cabs. He usually rounds up his friend’s money and comes to holla at me alone. But I keep tellin him about comin round here in that big yellow cab.”