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LOVE, LOYALTY & DANGEROUS GAMES
BY KAWAND S. CRAWFORD
BOOK EXCERPT
CHAPTER 1
BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… was the first sound I heard while drifting out of an unconscious state. Initially, it felt like trying to wake from a deep sleep. A sleep that I somehow knew I’d been in for far too long. My vision was blurred; therefore people milling around, within view, appeared as shadows. Even after my vision cleared, I lie there staring at the ceiling. That’s because the first thing I noticed was my inability to move. – An observation my mind was having a hard time accepting as fact.
Within my peripheral vision I saw two women standing near my bedside. One was tall and slender, while the other was shorter and younger. They were standing beside several machines. One of the machines emitted the sound I’d awakened to. The tall slender lady was my mother, and the first one to speak.
“Spanky… Spanky, do you remember what happened?”
She held my hand as she spoke and smiled, not only with her face, but also with her eyes. If the smile was a mask to conceal her worry and concern, it failed miserably at the job. I could see straight through it and therefore tried to answer. An indescribable feeling overwhelmed me when I felt my lips moving but heard no sound. It must have shown in my face because she went on to tell me that I was in the hospital and assured me that everything would be just fine.
As she was talking, an average size white man approached wearing a long white coat. He introduced himself as my doctor and began to instruct me to blink once for yes or twice for no.
“Is your name Mr. Gray?”
I blinked once for yes.
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“Would you prefer to be called Spanky?”
I blinked once to confirm that I preferred being called Spanky.
“Do you remember what happened to you?”
I blinked twice and felt a tear run down the left side of my cheek.
“Do you know what day it is?” I blinked twice again because I knew I’d been asleep for a while. I was sure that it wasn’t June 20, the date I remembered, but had no idea just what the date was.
The doctor said, “Today is the fourth of July.”
I was shocked to realize that I’d been asleep for so long.
“Is it 1990?”
I blinked once.
“Do you know the two women on the other side of your bed?”
I moved my eyes to the left then back to the right and blinked once.
I felt confused and afraid. Confused about the incident that had landed me here and afraid because I’d been awake at least ten minutes and was still unable to move anything but my eyes.
“You’re in the intensive care unit at Brooklyn Hospital”, the doctor was explaining. You’ve been in and out of consciousness because we’ve had to medicate you in order to keep you comfortable. You’ve sustained a serious injury to your spinal cord and there’s still swelling around it. We also don’t know how much movement you will regain but you will be paralyzed.”
I closed my eyes for about two minutes hoping this was a bad dream. This was not my idea of starting a new day. Not my idea of how any morning of my life should begin.
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Within those two minutes I focused on the shorter, younger lady who accompanied my mother. – Ginger. She’d worn a yellow blouse that day which demanded my attention when I glanced in her direction.
Ginger and I were in love during my early teenage years. We’d met when I was running the streets doing local stickups. She was about 5 feet 2 inches tall; had dark brown skin and shiny black hair that graced her shoulders. She also had a gold cap on one of her top left teeth that enhanced her smile, an incredible smile to go with her small petite frame. She always dressed well with clothes that were uniquely coordinated.
We’d dated for a little over four years; and she was the love of my life. I still had feelings for her. – Deep feelings. If I’d had my way that morning I would have awakened with visions of the previous night’s love making still fresh in my mind, and Ginger’s body molded into the perfect curve of my own. Now that would have been a good morning.
“Spanky you are under good care. We will do everything we can to help you”, said the doctor, calling me by my nickname and bringing me back into the moment.
He continued talking but I didn’t hear a word he said. It was my mother’s voice that again brought me into focus.
“Can you feel me holding your hand?” She was asking.
I blinked twice for no.
“Everything is going to be all right, she cooed.
“I’m going to talk to the doctor for a minute,” she told me as she released my hand and walked away.
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Before leaving she turned to Ginger and said, “Stay with him until I come back.”
Ginger was smiling down at me with these big brown eyes. I looked at her and saw that she was fighting back tears. She wasn’t the one who started crying first, though. Before she could speak tears ran down both sides of my face. I couldn’t stop crying or wipe the tears from my face, which made me cry even harder.
Ginger pulled tissues from her bag. I could only imagine that that’s where she got them from because her hands were too low for me to see. She wiped the tears from my face and out of my eyes.
“Spanky stop crying; everything is going to be all right.
I’m going to be with you until you recover.
Please stop crying.” She pleaded as she brought her face close to mine trying to extend comfort. It didn’t help; I continued crying hysterically.
“I’m only 20 years old with my whole life ahead of me.” Was one of the thoughts that played over and over in my mind.
It was hard to accept that the doctor had just told me that I’d be paralyzed for the rest of my life. Therefore, the more I tried to move the more I cried. It was bad enough that I couldn’t move; but I also couldn’t speak. I was scared out of my mind. I’d been shot, stabbed and pushed on a train track, but those things were nothing compared to what I was experiencing at that moment.
I’d grown up in a rough project in Brooklyn and thought I’d been through it all. I was considered a roughneck without fear. I’d never been afraid a day in my life. There was nothing in my past that had prepared me for the overwhelming fear I was feeling now. I’d been in some tight spots before, but this situation was taking me way past the limits.
Ginger's presence brought me some comfort; but I was also confused. We weren't together as a couple; and hadn't been for a while. Then I remembered that I spent the last night with her. No, it wasn't last night, but the night befrore my life changed forever.
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The tears subsided and I stared into Ginger's big brown eyes. Thoughts of that night inundated my head.
I'd called her from a pay phone that night, about one in the morning. The phone was located in Sunset Houses, my old hood. I'd moved from there, about 16 months prior to that night to a nicer neighborhood in Brooklyn. Normally I would have driven, but my car was in the shop. In fact, before my car broke down I'd drive to my ex- girlfriend Sasha's place, but she'd really screwed up our relationship.
Sasha had some ways about her that I'd gone along with long enough. What she did this time left me wondering if we would ever get
back together. I hadn't spoken to Sasha over the last two days so I decided to call Ginger.
Ginger's house was on the way to my own aprtment, so if she didn't answer or was unavailable, at least I wouldn't be far from home. Calling her was also a long shot because the last time I'd spoken to her had been about six weeks prior. Even so, I knew that if she were home she wouldn't refuse my invitation.
The phone only rang twice before she before she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello this is Spanky, can I speak to Ginger?" I asked.
"Speaking."
I could tell that I'd wakened her.
Then, "what time is it?" She wanted to know.
"Its one in the morning."
"You got company?" I asked in a firm voice.
"No, why wuz up?"
"Get dressed! I'll be there in 15 minutes with a cab to get you," I said with confidence.
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“Did you hear me? Are you going to be ready?”
“Yeah, have the cab driver beep the horn when you reach the front of my house.”
Her words were music to my ears.
The cab pulled in front of her house approximately 20 minutes later. Ginger lived in a one family house with a porch. It was surrounded by a black gate that served as both a deterrent for burglars and a corral for their black Chinese Chow. She lived with her father and two younger sisters in a relatively decent neighborhood for Brooklyn. I must admit that was one of the things that impressed me about her.
Calling her in the middle of the night once a month or so was normal. She wasn’t my girl but it was established that I could call her whenever I wanted to party. As tight as we once were, I never thought our relationship would be reduced to just sexual partners.
Neither of us spoke to one another during the time it took for the cab to get from her home to my apartment. There was no need to speak; we both knew what was expected. I told the driver to take us to my apartment.
The cab pulled up in front of my large, brightly lit apartment building about 15 minutes after picking up Ginger. I paid him and sent him on his way.
My building had two marble steps and two doors at the entrance. The first door, which led to an intercom system, was always open. One had to either have a key or be buzzed in to enter the building. Behind the locked door was a security guard. He sat behind a desk just inside the very large, brightly lit, mirrored, lobby. The lobby floor was covered with a dark pinkish patterned rug with additional light provided by a designer chandelier.
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Once inside my apartment we headed straight to my bedroom. She started to undress. I grabbed her by the waist and began kissing the back of her neck. Once naked she climbed onto my bed. I undressed slowly, still feeling a slight buzz from my earlier activities. It was late so I knew that only slow jams would be playing, on the radio, this time of night. That was nice. Once the mood was set I reached under my mattress for a rough rider.
I climbed into bed between black satin sheets and allowed my imagination to take me to places I desired to be. Ginger must have taken a shower before I arrived because she had a sweet scent that was oh so tantalizing and inviting. I didn’t kiss her lips or caress her the way I did when we were a couple. It was all about the party now and we both knew it. Admittedly I used her. And afterwards, as usual, I fell asleep.
I knew that I was being completely selfish. Perhaps out of anger or resentment towards this girl that I once adored. The one I thought I’d spend my life with until she decided that the life I lived was not one she wanted to share. At any rate, though my desires had been satisfied the sex was not the same.
I woke up early the next morning feeling good as usual. The morning was similar to the night. We had sex again without even greeting one another. Afterwards I jumped up and went to take a shower.
After wrapping myself with a white terry cloth robe and slipping on my Gucci slippers, I entered the bedroom. Ginger had already made up the bed and was waiting on me to emerge so that she could take a shower herself.
I dressed in a Fila sweat suit and Fila sneakers ready to roll. She didn’t keep me waiting long.
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“Are you ready?” I asked letting her know it was time to go.
“Yeah!”
That was the first word she’d spoken to me since I picked her up the night before.
We went to the nearest corner to catch a cab. Unlike my old hood, where I had to call a cab from, there were always cabs passing my new apartment building.
A taxi stopped and I told the driver to drop Ginger off at her house. Once there, Ginger exited the cab without saying a word. The moment was awkward because neither one of us said good-bye. I remember thinking that the time spent with her had been the most awkward night and morning that I’d spent with Ginger in four years.
Those memories faded as reality brought me back to my hospital bed. Well, at least I knew why Ginger was at the hospital when I woke up.
Ginger was wiping the tears from my eyes and face. I looked into Ginger eyes and could tell that she was still in love with me. Even though we did not speak we still enjoyed each other’s company. As much as we both pretended that our last night together had been purely physical it was obvious that it meant something more to her. I still cared for her too and could admit that our relationship deteriorating was mostly my fault. I really didn’t deserve her being by my side. To put it bluntly I was a typical no good nigga.
What felt like hours, had only been minutes before my mother returned. She was not alone. As the person with her came closer I could see that it was my nigga Red.
Red was my right hand man on the streets. He was also my partner in the hustle game. Red had been in on every move I made on the streets. He was 5 feet 6 inches tall, dark skinned with waves in his hair. One of the smoothest and
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smartest cats I’d ever met. We had a lot in common as well as some of the same ideas about hustling.
From our first conversation I knew we were destined to make big things happen. Red and I had gone to high school together. During that time we had never really spoken. We were both short and extremely bowlegged. Red and I both wore lots of jewelry and always sported top of the line clothes. We were also both loners. We began speaking after one crazy coincidental night when we bumped into each other in Times Square.
It was Valentine’s Day and I’d decided to treat Ginger to dinner and a movie. She was dressed in a cute Liz Claiborne dress with red Gucci boots and matching bag. I let her wear my jewelry as long as I was carrying her bag, in which I’d inserted a little protection against thieves. I was wearing a black leather bubble jacket on top of a black sweat hood. I also wore army fatigue pants and black Timberlands.
Times Square always had lots of activities going on and was always crowded. It was also drug infested and was known for its many blocks of adult shops and movie theaters. In the midst of all this were, can you believe it, some of the finest restaurants anywhere.
Chicks where selling their bodies and if you weren’t careful you could get your pocket picked. There was always a chance of danger - but it was still the place to be. I especially liked the theaters, located on and Off-Broadway, where I could catch a live play. All of the above were the attractions that every tourist came to see.
We stood in line to enter a movie theater on 43 St. , right off Broadway. Walking through the lobby trying to make our way to the concession stand I spotted Red.
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He was standing, in the lobby, accompanied by one of the finest young ladies in New York. We caught each other’s eye from across the room. Red smiled from ear to ear. He, like I, must have been glad to see a familiar face. I went over to “holla” at him. The closer I got the more I noticed his girl.
Red’s young lady was dressed in a sexy, beige and white dress, with matching beige Gucci loafers. She was covered with jewelry. I was impressed with his taste in women.
Once in front of them I noticed that Red was wearing an army fatigue jacket with matching pants and new Timberland boots. He too was holding his girl’s large beige Gucci handbag.
We stared each other up and down with a half of smile and half smirk. Then we laughed simultaneously as we gave each other a secret street handshake.
“Hey wuz up? Red wanted to know.
“What movie you goin' to see?”
There were six movies playing that night.
“Platoon,” I answered still laughing as my half smile and smirk turned into a complete smile.
Red started laughing.
“Get out of here! So are we.”
We checked each other out once again, giving the impression that we’d been friends for years. It was I who broke the façade.
“Ginger this is Red.
Red, this is my girl Ginger.”
Red followed suit and introduced us to his shorty.
I wanted to holla at Red alone, so I pulled out some money and slipped Ginger a fifty-dollar bill. I asked her to get us some popcorn, candy and a couple of sodas from the concession stand.
Red followed my lead and pulled out a stack of cash from his pocket too. He peeled off a
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bill and slipped it to his girl. I didn’t see what he gave her. It couldn’t have been less than a fifty because he had a brick.
We watched the two sexy, brown skinned women walk away. They looked like sisters from behind. - Both were short in stature with small waists and fat tight buns.
“I know your packing something in that bag,” Red said, keeping his tone low while keeping his focus on the ladies.
“I wouldn’t come to Times Square without it,” I said with a great deal of conviction.
“I also know you’re not carrying your girl’s bag to make a fashion statement either,” I continued jokingly.
Red burst into hysterical laughter. It was evident that we were thinking alike.
“Sho you right!” Red responded as he continued laughing.
Though I wanted to holla at Red alone, there wasn’t anything in particular to talk about. We complemented one another on our taste in women. The similarity of the two women hadn’t escaped us at all. In fact, during our entire conversation neither of us took our eyes off of the two sexy prizes we possessed.
Our ladies returned and the four of us agreed to sit together. Once in our seats, near the rear of the theater, Red and I sat between the two sexy women.
The movie had barely started before Red leaned over and whispered, “Let me see what you got?”
I whispered back, “Let me see what you got?”
Even though we had our girl’s bags on our laps we both turned our backs. I hesitantly searched around in Ginger’s bag for my jump off, (a nickname for a small handgun). Mine was a
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22.caliber pistol, something easy to handle and conceal. I quickly opened it and emptied out the shells before passing it to Red.
He, in turn, passed me a small, chrome plated, black handled, 25.automatic without the clip. The weight of the weapon let me know that he’d emptied the piece before passing it to me. Evidently Red must have come to the same realization because we simultaneously exchanged knowing smiles in the semi-darkness of the theater. It was at that point that we knew we were destined to be partners. – Always complimenting the other’s moves.
The weapons were again exchanged, fully loaded and secured in the Gucci bags. Afterwards we turned our attention to the movie, each pondering over his own thoughts.
That’s why I wasn’t surprised to see him in the hospital. - We were tight like that.
“Spanky, Red is here but he can’t stay too long because visiting hours are over,” my mother was saying.
“Ginger and I will wait outside while the two of you visit.”
My eyes followed Ginger and my mother as they left the room. Then I focused on Red who had a look on his face that I’d never seen before.
“Wuz up son?” Red greeted me trying to sound cheerful. Though his words portrayed gaiety, it was something about the look on his face that said something else. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“I know this is a messed up situation for you, but you’ll be all right. You’re a gladiator. So this is just a “thang”.
Your moms said you can’t speak so don’t worry about talking. I know what you’re thinkin’.
You can’t wait to get out so we can take a couple of hotties to the mo with the Jacuzzi’s.
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You know how we do. You know there isn’t a pair of niggas in the city that can Mac like us. The game wouldn’t be the same without you,” Red concluded.
Suddenly his face turned serious. I would venture to say that perhaps there was a profound sadness about his demeanor. Another look I wasn’t accustomed to seeing on his face.
All I could do was stare and listen. All my tears had been spent, so I was no longer crying. I just stared blankly as he spoke. One thing for sure though, he was definitely reading my mind. I would have probably sold my soul to the devil for a chance to be anywhere but lying in that hospital bed.
“Everybody in the hood is losing their minds after what happened, especially everyone at Da Rock,” Red was saying.
He named off a few of the guys and girls we’d associated with who sent their regards. Then he kidded around for about five minutes, making small talk about nothing.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.
Since you can’t have too many visitors, right now, I’ll give everyone your love.
I love you nigga!
Hurry up and get out of here. Peace!”
With that he was out the door. Red acted like a real trooper, but I know the visit was as difficult for him as it was for me. He, like I, never thought I’d be in the position he saw me in that day. I wonder just how hard he was taking my dilemma. That strange look on his face told me he wasn’t taking it too well at all. Then again, perhaps it was a look of knowing. – Knowing something I was yet to find out.
After everyone left for the day, I thought a lot about Da Rock. Da Rock was a building in Sunset Houses where the lifestyle that led me to
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my hospital bed began. It was the goings on at Da Rock that made me the person I had become.
