RIPPED & READY (PART 18)

RIPPED & READY (PART XVIII)

Collin's retro-jammy-jam was just what the doctor ordered.  I suppose you just can't ever underestimate people because when he hit D'Andre over the head with the truth, backing up what I had told D about that damned harlot, Denise, it most likely saved our friendship.  It's a stone trip how some folks can't handle the the truth, even when it's riding on the next dick in front of them. 

The party went off without one incident.  The “PO PO” never even paid us a visit -- which, in the hood, is pretty unheard of but, like I said, nobody got out of pocket.  Oh, don't get me wrong, two well known idiots, stupid is and stupid does,  got chest to chest for a minute, but buffed up and his side kick kah-razy, squashed it before the exchange could go beyond a few heated words.  

Instead of heading to his own house next door, D'Andre invited himself over to mine.  I was pretty lit up so I wasn't as rigid as I was earlier that evening.  As we were walking across the street towards my parent's house, the head lights from a car turning into the court pierced the darkness.  We picked up the pace to get out of its way.  

It pulled over in front of Collin's place.  Instead of going in the house, D and I stopped in the drive way to see who was going to get out of the lime-green Lexus (now you just know the owner of that car had it painted that atrocious color). I don't even want to try and understand why anybody would purchase a car for all that money, re-paint it in electric green and then.... and then... put four gigantic tires on it.  It's a damn luxury car, damn!    

D and I were propping each other up, because we were both shit-faced. When all four doors opened at the same time, my heart sank, I recognized one of the henchmen and added it all up, they were members of a notorious local gang called the "Ant Hill Mob" (yea, like the cartoon, go ahead on and laugh). 

Oh, snap, Collin might be in trouble, but before I had a chance to complete that thought, the lead rain fall had begun.  D and I sobered the fuck up quickly and dove beside my mom's Volvo.  It sounded like fucking Iraq in the court.  Gun fire started coming out from the inside of the house letting both D and I know, that we needed to relocate. 

Crawling on our bellies like we were in combat, we managed to make it to the front door, and I rose up into a squatting position, and began fumbling with my keys, trying to get the right one into the lock. 

"Hurry up, nigga, before we catch one of these bullets in one or more parts of our body!" D said, again, hitting me on the back, which caused me to lose my balance and fall over.  I lost my grip on the key ring, and it vanished in the shrubbery.

Motherfuck!

"Bitch ass nigga, now look what you made me do," I told him, pushing him out of the way.  Luckily, the key ring had gotten stuck on a branch on the way down, so I retrieved without needing a flash light. 

It may not have been the hole I wanted to be in, but it was the right hole for that moment.  I turned the lock, opened the door, and we both fell on top of each other onto the carpeted floor of living room.  We closed the door, and crawled further inside of the house. 

"Baby, what is all that noise outside?" moms asked, emerging from the hall way in a pink and blue housecoat. 

"Moms, get down on the floor!" I said to her.

"Oh, lawd, sweet jesus, what is going on?" She asked, in a panic. 

She crawled over to where D and I were huddled.  "Is that coming from Albertine's house?" She asked, searching our faces waiting for a response. 

My heart was beating so fast until I thought it was going to leap out of my chest.  "Yes, mama, it is!" I said, pulling her into me. 

All of a sudden, the front door burst open, and dilly-dally-daddy entered the house, moving so fast you would have swore he was a jack rabbit. He joined us in the huddle. 

"What the hell is going on over there at Albertine's house?" he asked, slurring, and reeking of sex and booze. 

That's all I needed was to be trapped here in baby Iraq with the scent of dick-ass-and-pussy filling up my nose along with the smell of gun powder.  He was leaning all over me, scared shitless.  I pushed him off of me, "Pops, calm the hell down, damn!" I said. 

Fifteen minutes later the gun fire stopped and it got quiet.  "Go check outside and see what it looks like," Pops nudged me. 

Now if that ain't a bitch.  I was sissy boy before he left; now I'm supposed to be the dove that goes out searching for a damn olive branch.  This motherfucker was truly showing his cowardice.  I leered at him disgusted at the site of him, and started crawling away from the huddle towards the front door, D'Andre in tow. 

When we saw the red and blue lights flashing, we assumed it was most likely safe to go outside.  There must have been seven or eight police cars out in the court, surrounding Collin's house.  I counted three lifeless bodies strewn in various locations.  One out on the sidewalk in front of Collin's crib, another on the lawn area, and the last was resting vertically down on the stairs of the front porch. 

That's when the biggest pit grew inside of my stomach.  D asked me, "Marco, please tell me that's not our boy over there man?" he said, starting to cry. 

I grabbed him around the neck and pulled him into me and started crying along with him. "I don't know D...I don't know baby,".

I said baby without remembering that Pops had joined us in the drive way.  He looked at D'Andre and me in disbelief, but at that time I didn't give a damn what he thought.  D and I walked away, attempting to get closer to the scene of the crime to see if we could make out whose body it was on the porch. 

Even though there were barricades surrounding the area, D and I got close enough to identify who it was.  The inside of my body went numb.  I just couldn't believe it. 

It just couldn't be....