William Vollmann - The Royal Family

Justin swallowed, scanning the streets for vigs and rival beaver-traders. — I’ve heard it said, he finally told her, that you—

That I what?

That you’re in this thing with the cops.

And what have you heard it said that I do with cops, Justin? Flatback ’em?

This bread you take from us…

So I pay protection money. Of course I do. You want me not to do that?

I heard a lot about that, said Beatrice. But you’re doing a favor for us, you know. If that money exists, who pay you for that? Nobody does. I doan care for the money. Nobody paid our Mama the Queen to do a favor for us.

The tall man smiled slightly, embarrassed.

Who says all this, Justin?

He would not answer.

So it’s Domino as usual, said the Queen. She needs a man to give her guidance. She needs to get off the streets. That Domino’s always in trouble. She’s so blonde and beautiful the men always be hittin’ on her, tryin’ to bridle her down with some pimp. And she won’t do it, ’cause she has me and we have each other, so she don’t need no pimp. An’ you believe her?

Timidly Beatrice took hold of the tall man’s sleeve and even though his eyes were as angry and orange-red as the neon glare of the Queen’s Bar down on Harrison Street he did not dare to throw her off because the Queen was watching and she said to him: Please, Justin, you know in Tijuana there used to be a policewoman who used to hurt us by the hair, used to pinch us. If we want to get out of the jail, we have to pay twenny, twenny-five dollars. And if they get you out, if you come back to her street to do your business, if you doan have no more money, you go back to the jail. And even in this America it is not always all right, But we must say thanks to God for our Queen, for helping us with the police and with those others, those bad street men who used to rape us and hurt us. Now even the main street is correct now. The police they doan hurt us any more.

Take my cigarette, darling, said the Queen. And go give some money to your sisters. Maybe you can buy Sapphire some shoes. Bea, you’re my special angel now.

When they were alone again the Queen took the tall man’s hand and said to him: You’re not greedy. You got heart. I know that. Now what’s this thing really about? Is it about what I did to Domino?

Hell, no, you got the right to do more to that bitch than make her come—

Then what is it?

Shit. What am I doin’ this for?

It’s up to you, said the Queen flatly. You don’t have to do nothin’.

Maj, I want us, together, to keep on comin’ up. An’ you keep sayin’ we gonna go down. When they gonna get us? Why they gonna get us? I wanna drag ’em under Henry’s car, take that gun of his an’ blow they heads right off they necks. And you—

An’ I what?

Oh, it’s hopeless, Maj. Just hopeless.

Hey now. You believe in me or not?

I been down for you so long. An’ you not even gonna fight. It’s like you just punked out.

So you feel like I been givin’ you no respect, so you don’t wanna respect me no more. Oh, Justin, that made me so sad.

Maj—

Stay or go, but promise me this: No payback when they get us. You gonna make it. You gonna move on. Don’t pay ’em back. Just let it go.

If that’s how you want it, I’m gonna quit.

He took off his sunglasses then, and his gaze resembled the white cold glare of the sun in a Tenderloin window at evening, red cars, red barfronts, green barfronts, pale tea-colored buildings, and above all this a cold and skittish glance of light refracted by flat dark awareness behind which perhaps somebody was minutely watching the street but no one on the street could see into that darkness. But the Queen, could she see? A dark face, a soul, lurked behind a curtain’s membrane.

C’mere, she said.

But the tall man shook his head and told her: I been close to death at times, Maj. And you know what? Up close I can’t see nothin’. Not a damned thing. ’Cause they ain’t nothin’.

The tall man had the number of the O.G.’s main bitch, a hot young thing named Tashay who’d never turned a trick in her life, so she said. He dropped a quarter into the pay phone on Turk and Powell and dialled her up. The O.G. answered.

Justin here, said the tall man. You remember me? I tole you I’d be callin’…

Okay, nigga, said the O.G. You ready to keep your mind on you life? You ready to use you head?

Yeah, said the tall man, submissive like a child.

Okay. I know you ain’t no coward. I did some checkin’ around. I heard you got a rep. Not a real decent gangbangin’ rep, but at least you got you name known out on the street. You was in Quentin, right?

Yeah.

For auto theft. Well, that ain’t even chickenshit. An’ pimpin’, I know you still be pimpin’. That ain’t nothin’. You got any exes, any one eighty-sevens?*

Yeah.

How many?

One.

I guess you did tell me that. Well, so you got your rep. An’ it wasn’t no True Blue. ’Cause we all be True Blues over here.

No.

An’ they made you on that one-eighty-seven, right? You was in Soledad?

Yeah.

How many bullets †they give you?

Five years. They tried to get me on conspiracy, but they—

An’ you be makin’ good money now, sellin’?

Yeah.

Where is it?

I don’t keep it, the tall man said. I spread it around.

Righteous. But that Big Bitch sittin’ on you face (and these words the O.G. uttered in tones of the utmost bitterness, like a man’s mistress using the phrase your wife ) she don’t take all that scratch out of you hand, huh? ’Cause any man let some bitch rule his finances, well, Justin, my man, he ain’t got no rep. He be the laughingstock. See what I’m sayin’?

It ain’t like that, the tall man said.

Don’t bullshit me, the O.G. said. Now, what you gotta do, you gotta bring her down. Mark her face with acid or a razor or a screwdriver, so can’t nobody say she still be keepin’ you balls between her teeth. You do that, an’ then I can tell my homeys you got heart, okay? An’ at that time, Justin, I can promise you a good place in my organization. You’ll be taken care of. I’ll feed you, dig what I’m sayin’? In one goddamned week you’ll be drivin’ a car, I mean a real car. You can even keep the white bitch, if that’s the way you wanna go. An’ if not, cut her loose. Tashay she got a real sweet li’l sister, I mean real sweet, see what I’m sayin’?

Yeah.

In fact, if you really wanna make a splash, kidnap the Big Bitch. Plan it out, bring her to the homeboys. Then we gonna rape her like two three four five days runnin’ till she good an’ cold. Then you can keep runnin’ her hos down in their area, an’ collect yo scratch. Ain’t no more Queen, man. You be the King, awright?

Yeah.

You better do it, brother. You hear me?

Yeah.

You gonna do it or you just wastin’ my time like some li’l wannabe buster?

I’ll do it.

’Cause she the enemy, man. You wanna get you heart back, you gotta retaliate. Call me when you’ve done it. Then we’ll talk.

The O.G. hung up.

The tall man stood there for a moment. Then he smashed his fist against the phone and he screamed.

Then there came the day when Chocolate, unable to trick because she had an excruciating running sore on her mons veneris, and being unable to trick was unable to cop, approached the Queen with a whine and an opened mouth like a little baby bird. For a long time the Queen regarded her sadly. She seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something. At last she spat into the other woman’s mouth as usual. But this time there came no instant rush, and Chocolate’s withdrawal pangs did not go away. The whore sat for five immense minutes, fidgeting. Then suddenly she leaped up and screamed: Bitch, you lost your power, bitch!