The colors were coordinated along with the packages of the meat she had in there. I closed the fridge when I saw she had salami.
“Told her about that shit,” I muttered.
Bando’s nails tapped on the wooden floors as he walked toward the door. He was doing this little scuff noise like he was trying to get my attention or explain something to me.
It clicked when I realized that he was a dog, not a cat. He probably had to take a shit or piss, and his owner was sleeping peacefully down the hall. I scanned the closets she had until I found his leash, and that’s when he got excited and his nub started to move faster.
Boobie had some harness shit that took me way too long to figure out. I know Bando was calling me a stupid bitch with how many times I sucked my teeth and became frustrated with putting it on him. Once we got it right, I headed downstairs to walk him.
Waking up in Manhattan was fucking different. There was traffic all over New York City, but it was something about the quietness of the hood in the morning. When I ran the hood, I nodded at my favorite dust head as I breezed through the blocks. On my way back to the crib, I would stop in the corner store to grab water. You could always count on seeing your usual moms barking on their kids because they woke up late, and now shehad to order him a butter roll before watching their kids run down the block toward the crossing guard.
Shit always made me feel nostalgic because my moms did the same thing. Face all greased up while waiting to slap that dollar down onto the counter for my butter roll, chips, and a bummy.
The morning air even smelled different. It was like the world was waking up slowly, the hustle of the city was getting ready for another day, but it was still slower in Brooklyn. With Manhattan, everything was in full swing and already started for the day.
Women rushed down the blocks in heels, phone to their ear, and purse swinging on their arm, leaving a cloud of perfume behind. Children were holding onto what I would consider a leash, as the school teacher walked them across the street in single file. Cars were honking their horns, cabs looking for fares.
That slowness that I loved could only be found in the hood. Not here on Park Avenue where a nigga like me didn’t even belong. Bando knew where he was going, so I allowed him to pull me into the park.
He sniffed every damn tree and still hadn’t lifted his leg to take a piss. Little white ladies smiled at me as I walked him and offered their good mornings.
“You gonna pee or what?” I huffed, as we neared a bigger tree than the last.
Bando stopped, looked at me, and then continued sniffing around. “She got you out here walking her dog too… you gone, nigga.”
Don came walking over with his hands in his pockets while his dog ran beside him. “You don’t put her ass on a leash?”
“Minks doesn’t need one. Plus, it’s off leash hours at the park right now.”
I held onto Bando’s leash ’cause I wasn’t about to take his ass off of it. “What time you got in last night?”
“Couple hours ago… shit was crazy last night.” He sat on the bench while Bando pulled to be free with Minks.
I released him and they took off running and fighting with each other.
“Yeah.”
“Wanna tell me what it was about? You was about to take his life right there on that corner.”
Aside from the Gods, I didn’t speak on my family shit with anybody. I was a firm believer of keeping my shit close to me and only telling those that I held close. Landon wasn’t asking on no nosey shit, he was asking because he seemed more concerned than anything.
“My little cousin was killed. He was seventeen years old, and niggas chased him down and killed him in front the corner store near my mom’s crib.”
Don leaned forward and whistled. “Shit.”
“Those same niggas are associated… Khaos killed three of the niggas that was involved, but Sigel got locked up.”
“And those the same niggas that run with Sigel.” Don said, not in a question, but like he was trying to make sense of it.
“Yeah.”
He pulled a black and mild from his pocket and lit it, while taking in the dogs playing. Bando had a big ass stick and was running around happy as shit. “Shit was personal.”
“Real personal.”
When Sigel ended up in the same prison as me, I tried to take that nigga’s head off behind those walls. I almost succeeded until the correction officers maced me and tossed me in the hole. I gladly did six months in there after that shit.
A lot of niggas would never admit how the hole fucked with them. Even as a free man, some shit still haunted me. Being locked down for twenty-four hours a day with no contact with humans, was some shit that would make you crazy.
