Array Ashley - Tale of the Murda Mamas

The doctor reentered the room. “Oh, please sir. You can wait in the hallway while she dresses. Me will help she, and then get chu de medicine she needs. She will be fine,” the doctor said.

Ma’tee reluctantly left the room, but he made sure to watch through the peephole at the top of the door.

The doctor handed Breeze a clipboard. Her hands shook, because something told her that this young girl was in grave danger. She knew who Ma’tee was. Everyone in Haiti knew who he was and what he was capable of. The doctor did not want to get involved out of fear of being hurt herself.

Breeze cried as she took the pen. She wrote her first and last name on the clipboard, and then jotted a quick note.

Please help me! Call this number, 1- 810-625-1816. Tell him I am alive. I’m trapped somewhere in the mountains. Please!

Breeze dressed slowly, and then Ma’tee whisked her away from the doctor’s office and back up to captivity.

“Breeze!” Zyir screamed into the phone as he strained to hear the conversation on the other end of the line. He could barely hear what was going on, but he knew that it was her. He felt it in his gut. She had only said his name, but she was the only person who had the ability to say it so sweetly. “Breeze! Pick up the phone!” he yelled. Tears came to his eyes when the call was disconnected. His heart was beating so rapidly that he had to pull the car over. He hit his steering wheel in frustration. She had called him. He didn’t know where she was or why it had taken her so long to reach out to him, but she was alive, and he had to find her. He picked up his phone and speed-dialed Young Carter.

“Zy, how that money looking out in-” Carter started to speak, but Zyir interrupted him.

“She’s alive, fam! Breeze is alive, man!” Zyir stated, getting choked up. After months of her death haunting him, his faith was restored. Breeze had been the only chick who had been able to steal Zyir’s focus away from his hustle. He had nightmares about her death every night. He felt responsible for what had happened to her, but now he was sure that she was out there somewhere, and out of all the people she could have called, she chose him.

His statement took Carter by surprise. “Zyir, fam, Breeze is…”

“Carter, she called me! She called my fucking phone! She’s alive! I’m on my way to you!” he screamed urgently.

“I’m not at home. I’m leaving my barber now. We don’t need to meet at the house. Feds are crawling all over the place. Meet me at Mecca’s money house. I’ll give him a call,” Carter answered.

Zyir’s stomach was hollow as he raced toward Liberty City where Mecca stashed the drugs and money that he distributed and collected from the Lib City hustlers. He beat both Mecca and Carter there. He scoped the entire block, removed the money he was transporting, and with the duffel bag in one hand and his pistol in the other, he entered the home. He quickly opened the safe and stuffed the money inside. Carter’s rule was to count the cash before putting it away, but Zyir’s head was all over the place. He didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone but Breeze.

He paced the living room floor, trying to play back the pieces of conversation he had heard on the phone. “Where is she?” he mumbled to himself. “Think. What did you hear?” he said over and over.

Zyir was driving himself crazy. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t even hear Carter come in. Mecca walked in directly behind Carter and they watched as Zyir talked to himself. Carter noticed the worried look on Zyir’s face. He had seen Zyir sell crack to his own mother and not bat an eye. He knew his lil’ nigga through and through. The look of concern that Zyir held was the same one that Carter felt inside for Miamor. It was then that he knew Zyir’s love for Breeze ran deeper than anyone knew.

“Zyir,” Carter called out, startling him.

“Fuck is up with you, fam?” Mecca asked.

“Breeze… she’s still alive,” Zyir stated.

A look of anger flickered in Mecca’s eyes, and he pointed his finger sternly toward Zyir. “Don’t speak her name, nigga. You didn’t even know her like that. After eight months, you talking about she’s alive!” Mecca said, becoming emotional over his baby sister.

“Fuck you! Bitch-ass nigga!” Zyir yelled back. He didn’t give a fuck. He knew Mecca was a killer, but Zyir had been taught to only fear a nigga who didn’t bleed. “I just told you your sister is alive! Whether you want to believe it or not, she’s out there, and I’m gon’ find her!”

Mecca’s hands automatically rested on his waistline for easy access to his burner, but he had to remember that Zyir was family now. That fact alone kept Zyir breathing after disrespecting Mecca, but he was skeptical, and his doubt showed on his face. “She’s been gone eight months,” Mecca stated sadly.

“She called me!” Zyir yelled.

“She called you?” Mecca answered. “How the fuck you know it ain’t one of these lurking-ass mu’fuckas trying to throw you off and set you up? Huh? Why the fuck would she call you?”

Carter watched the exchange back and forth as he attempted to figure out where Zyir’s logic was coming from. Zyir had never given him a reason to doubt him before, and he was slowly beginning to recall all the time that Zyir and Breeze had spent together.

“It wasn’t nobody else. I know her voice, mu’fucka. She called me. She was crying and she said my name. I’m her man, and she needs me! I have to find her, and I’ll murk any nigga who tries to stop me!” Zyir said through clenched teeth as he looked Mecca directly in the eyes. Zyir was an emotional wreck. Breeze was still alive, he would put his life on it, and he was willing to go against a thousand armies to get her back. She had been out there alone and vulnerable for eight months, while The Cartel had buried her and moved on.

Seeing Zyir’s conviction brought tears to Mecca’s eyes, which he quickly brushed away as he felt his anger rise. He wanted to shoot Zyir’s ass in the foot for fucking around with his little sister in the first place, but he was glad that she had chose a nigga who was built right, one who was willing to go to the ends of the earth because of a phone call. Breeze had chosen a lil’ nigga who Mecca thought their father would have approved of. Mecca nodded his head and looked at Carter, who sat there calmly, grinding his jaw, a clear indication that he was angry.

“We buried her. We counted her out, and she’s been out there all this time,” Zyir said.

“What did you hear?” Carter asked.

“It was muffled, but it sounded like she was talking to a doctor,” Zyir replied.

“Check the hospitals… every hospital in the state if you have to,” Carter instructed to Zyir. “Mecca, you too, but stay out of Florida. Estes is still on your ass. He’s lying low, but that don’t mean he’s gone. You check hospitals in Georgia and Alabama, and even go as far as Mississippi if nothing shakes. If she’s out there, we won’t stop until we bring her home. If anyone hears anything, let me be the first to know.”

Mecca left in search of his baby sister. It had been a long time since he’d prayed, but for this, he closed his eyes and asked God for help. When he was gone Carter turned to Zyir.

“Why did she call you?” Carter asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to see if Zyir would keep it one hundred with him.

Zyir rubbed the top of his head, his eyebrows raised in distress. “I was fucking with her, fam,” Zyir admitted.

Carter stood sternly. “And the day she was taken?” Carter asked.

“She was with me,” Zyir admitted. Carter nodded his head.