Chapter Fourteen:

Ballers & Shot Callers

It was nighttime when Talon pulled up to Alto's on his skateboard with a duffle bag. The city shone like diamonds on a new rolly, looking gorgeous against a violet and dusky blue sky. Summer nights were the best. People were holding block parties, tagging buildings and drinking out on their porches or in front of their housing complexes. Alto was talking to Gale, who was regaling with him a story.

"…So I was like, 'how in the fuck do you miss a Blizzard,' like bruh, it's a blizzard, how you…fail to hit yo fuckin' target? Anyways, the dumb bitch got her ass beat cuz she can't aim for shi—oh, Talon, wassup."

Talon greeted Alto with a pound and a hug and gave Gale a nod of acknowledgement. Alto set down his bong and walked over to the entrance, unlocking it and turning on the light as he did.

"My gran's asleep," he reminded them, "So don't be loud."

"Iight," Talon reassured, dragging the duffle bag into the kitchen and putting it on the table. Alto retrieved his bong and took a rip, now setting it on the countertop. Gale sat down around the table, doing a bump of coke off his hand and slapped himself, trying to get his mind in the zone. Talon unzipped the bag and unloaded ten pounds of weed: a powerful strain known as Johto Gold. Alto got out the scale, his eyes looking somewhat red as he did. He coughed a bit, sniffing. Talon weighed each bag, making sure it was exactly ten pounds—a pound a bag. He began separating the weed into smaller three-ounce baggies, carefully making sure he didn't damage the bud. Gale helped out, using tweezers to pull apart the buds and place them in baggies. Alto watched, taking another bong rip and coughing.

"I ain't seen you in school," Talon said, as weighed the baggies.

"Nigga…" Alto said between shallow coughs, "I dropped out."

"You did?" Gale asked, "When?"

"Like five months ago—bruh, why the fuck do you think you haven't seen me?"

"Cuttin'," Talon said, "I assumed yo ass was just leaving after 2nd period."

Alto shrugged, "Ima just get my GED and call it a day. Besides my gran's not looking hot so I gotta look after her."

"Damn."

"It is what it is," Alto said, "Ay, don't miss that piece."

Talon grabbed up the gram of weed that he failed to grab the first time around and put it in the baggie, weighing it. When it was a satisfactory weight he opened up the hidden compartment in the duffle bag and put the smaller baggies in there, where they could fit in smaller portions instead of larger ones.

"You been hangin' around Crystal I hear," Gale said, "She single, yea? Tell her I'm tryna holla."

"Nigga no, she don't want yo funky self, lookin' like you 'bout to murder a baby headass," Talon said.

"Bruh….really gon' do me like that? Really?"

"She don't want you bruh," Alto confirmed, "She think you busted."

"The fuck? No I'm not."

Alto shrugged, "That what she be thinking. Take that shit up with her, not me bruh, I'm just lettin' know she think you ugly."

"Maaaan…. fuck her bitch ass," Gale mumbled, but then looked at Talon, "But…what 'bout you? She kinda cute, yea?"

"I mean yeah she cute, but I ain't tryna be with nobody right now," Talon sighed, still bagging the Johto Gold, "Life kinda rough, right now."

"I feel you," Alto said.

"Nigga you a virgin," Gale said to Alto, "You don't be getting no bitches."

"Bruh! I had a girlfriend in 8th grade," Alto clapped back.

"And you didn't beat no cheeks—stop frontin."

Talon shrugged, "So what if he a virgin. I'm technically one too. All I got was head from Sa'Nessa last semester."

"Ay deadass?" Alto said, taking another bong rip.

"Yea. I mean, earlier I was thinkin' maybe I should get a girl, cuz there a lot of fly ladies around—but eh, too much work. I'm busy now that I'm dealing with X."

"Wha'bout Jazzy Jolt?" Gale inquired, "She iight, not my type, but she type cute."

"We just friends nigga. We knew each other since 6th grade. It ain't like that," Talon insisted.

"Hmm," Alto mumbled, coughing again, checking his smartphone for the time.

"So you moving this shit to Brightwater," Alto said, "Don't get caught, nigga. Like I said before, they make a point of not being a druggie ass neighborhood."

"Err'body in Brightwater a pussy," Gale maintained, "Ain't nobody there throwing hands."

"Mr. Roak had some hands," Talon said, chuckling to himself, "Damn that nigga was wildin."

"Ye-yeah," Alto nodded, "Y'all deadass broke into his house and whooped that nigga's ass—wheeeeeew chile! I laughed my whole ass off when I saw that nigga on the news!"

"Yeah... he had Portia in some like…trap door basement type shit."

"How's Portia anyways?" Gale asked.

Talon sighed, "Eh…she not doing that great. She don't really want the leave the house and her moms said she ain't been eatin' much. She prolly got PTSD."

"Ain't she with Zanny? How he holdin' up?"

"He worried bout her," Talon explained, "Ain't much he can do tho."

Gale put another ounce into a baggie, "Shoulda killed him, to be honest." Talon laughed darkly to himself.

"I wish," he said, "But then I'd be doing twenty-five to life. Anyways, enough of that shit. What y'all know 'bout No Snitching?"

"He from the Indigo islands," Alto said, taking another bong rip, feeling light-headed, his eyes really red now, "He don't play with his shit."

"Yea," Gale said, "I heard he shot someone for snitchin' on his operation outta Brightwater. He did ten years and got out."

"Nigga what," Talon said, "He shot someone? Damn…bruh…"

"That ain't shit bruh," Alto said, grabbing a bag of plantain chips from the cabinet, "That's the shit he got caught for. He broke the jaw of some other nigga tryna snitch on his shit. He don't play, nigga."

Talon looked nervous, but continued bagging up the next batch, slipping it into the hidden compartment. Alto was scrolling through his smartphone.

"Yeah—this him," Alto said, walking over to Talon, showing him a picture. His skin was like smooth deep mahogany, sporting well maintained lavender dreadlocks that fell past his shoulders and prominent sideburns. He wasn't as short as Alto, but he was not tall either, being of lean to average build. He sported a red gem in his forehead and luminous silver eyes. Talon lifted an eyebrow, noticing he had huge foxlike ears and a catlike tail that was halfway split in two. It took him a minute to realize he was an Espeon-lineage.

"This 'I use scented candles' lookin' ass nigga shot someone and broke someone's jaw, deadass?" Talon asked.

"Yea nigga, I'm tellin' you No Snitching, don't play."

"Nigga I ain't finna believe that bullshit!"

Alto and Gale gave him a look that read, "you better not." Talon saw that look and sighed, continuing to package the weed and slip them in the duffle bag.

"Damn and he traps outta Brightwater?" Talon muttered, "What the hell…"

"Yeah like, niggas do shit everywhere, it's just Brightwater wanna act like it's kid friendly when it ain't."

"When you gotta deliver this shit anyways?"

"Tomorrow," Talon said, sighing, "I'm prolly gonna fly there."

"Hmph," Alto mumbled, shaking his head, "Yo gon get stopped by cops even if you do fly. What decoy items you plan to fill up yo duffle bag with?"

"My sis' baby toys," Talon said, "I'ma just say I'm going to some kids birthday party and I'm delivering toys."

"Damn got yo alibi planned out and err'thang," Alto said, laughing. Talon looked at his phone and finished up, grabbing a bag of plantain chips for himself out the cabinet.

This gon' be one hell of a ride.

It was 10 AM when Talon awoke, rubbing his eyes. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and took a shower. He sprayed some body scent on him and got dressed, slipping on black skinny jeans, fresh kicks and a V-neck T-shirt and of course, his gloves. He fixed up his hair, grabbed his duffle bag and skateboard. He went into Taheha's room, where she was fast asleep and gathered up her dolls, toys and blocks and threw them in the bag. When he was finished, he gave her a kiss on the top of her tiny head and placed a mini teddy bear by her. He walked into the living room, seeing that Maria was passed out on the couch again, vomit on the floor and several bottles of sherry scattered on the rug. He sighed, grabbed his keys and left, heading to the elevator. He checked his smartphone. It was fully charged and he took a breath of relief. He popped in one earphone while leaving the other one hanging down. When he reached the lobby floor, he got out and left the housing complex. When he reached the foot of three rows of stairs, he began skateboarding to the deli that was a block from the Section-75 projects. When he reached in front of the small, rundown deli, he kicked up his skateboard and put it under his arm, walking through, the bell ringing as he entered. Behind an elevated counter was the owner, stocking up on gum, vape pens and dollar headphones. Talon tapped on the countertop and he turned around, grinning.

"Yo, Terise—what you getting today?"

"Bacon egg and cheese," he said, going for the usual. He nodded and shouted in another language to two men behind the cold cuts section. They gave him a salute and thumbs up, getting out a roll and began cooking up the eggs and the bacon, melting shredded cheese on top of the easy over egg. Within two minutes, the sandwich was ready and Talon paid 2.50, also grabbing some sweetened ice tea and a pack of cigarettes, jumping it up to nearly 18 dollars. They didn't care about I.D at this deli and they rang him up, giving his items in a black plastic bag. He gave everyone in the deli a nod of acknowledgment and left, the sound of the bell chiming behind him. He pocketed the cigarettes and began skateboarding as he ate his sandwich, the duffle bag slung around his shoulder. When it was near 10:30, he crumpled up the foil wrapper and tossed it one of the trashcans by the corner of an intersection. He skateboarded towards a corner store that sold rolling papers. He purchased a few packs and pocketed those as well. When he was done with all that, he took out his smartphone. He put in his card number into the Drop's information bracket and then ordered one to his location.

"Five minutes," he muttered, opening up the iced tea and downing half of it in one go. As he waited, he put the other earphone in, bopping his head lightly to an old school tune. When the song was finished, the Drop pulled up in front of the corner store. He got in, setting the duffle bag next to him and the skateboard by his feet.

"Uh Talon?" The driver inquired, tapping the map option on his smartphone.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

The driver nodded and pulled out, heading off. He went to the next song on his phone, knowing it would be forty-minute drive to Brightwater. He laid his head back, closing his eyes, feeling nervous, but he forced himself to keep his eye on the ball. He decided to text Portia, sending her an "u ok?" He waited for a bit, but these days it took her hours to respond. He opted to text Jazmin.

Talon: yo u good?

She responded in a few minutes

Jaz: pickin up trash by the freeway

U kno, community service shit

Talon: damn

Jaz: yea. It ain't easy being the hero

Talon: u right. Be safe

Jaz: be safe 3

Talon smiled at the text and then began grinning as he pocketed his phone, looking out the window, playing another oldie. The driver took the highway and had gotten into Brightwater. Talon checked the address again: 556 Wellspring, Brightwater. It was now going into the late 11s, almost a quarter to 12 when the driver reached Wellspring. Talon looked around. It was so clean and faultless, but the memories of Brightwater made him shiver. The stepford beauty of this neighborhood seemed to hide an underbelly of grief and depravity people seemed completely ignorant of. Soon, the driver stopped about a quarter a block from the address, unable to go further due to how the layout of the road was—too narrow and residential. Talon gave the driver a quick "good looks," and picked up his duffle bag, grabbing his skateboard and hopping out. When the Drop driver left the location, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his pinkie, he got on his skateboard, rolling towards 556 Wellspring. He took a long drag, balancing perfectly on his skateboard as he did. The houses around this part of Brightwater looked…samey. But there was one with pinkish exterior and gilded gate. 556, he thought, seeing the number embossed on an address plate that hung on the double doors. He skidded to a halt and got off his board, kicking it up and putting it under his arm. He texted the number X-Large gave him, letting whoever lived here know he was here. Within in seconds, the gates opened up automatically. He walked through, looking around at the freshly watered lawn and an Indigo Island flag hanging from a windowsill. He got the door and took a deep breath, readying himself. He knocked a few times. In about a minute, the doors opened up wide. He was greeted by a lovely, tall, slender woman that made his eyes go wide. She had grass green curly hair and large, gold eyes. She was of a deep complexion with chalk white teeth. She had a large lily-pad on her head, almost like a sombrero. She wore a sparkly gold dress and heels. Talon looked at her up and down, taking note she was from the Ludicolo-line.

"Uh hi," Talon said.

"Hi," she responded. Her voice was soft and melodic. She invited him in and Talon listened, looking around at what looked like a mansion. The walls were eggshell white and gorgeous, the floor was smooth marble and there was a chandelier in the den. Glass spiraling stairs led up into the multiple bedrooms. The place looked like a perfect mix between the classical and the experimental. As he looked around, he heard soft, old school reggae playing in the backdrop. The woman seated him by a beautifully ornate countertop made of true granite, with a fruit basket in the middle. She poured him a glass of cucumber infused water and walked off. Am I in the right place? Talon wondered, sipping the water tentatively. He waited for several minutes, scrolling on his phone. Don't trip, don't trip, just do yo shit and bounce. It ain't deep, he thought, sipping the water again as he looked around, amazed at how lovely and clean the house was.

"Ayyyyyyyy dere you aree!"

Talon looked up. No Snitching was walking down the stairs, completely shirtless, but wore sagging dark purple skinny jeans and expensive Js. His torso and chest was full of miscellaneous tattoos and he wore chains that were decked out in diamonds with matching watches. He had a blunt in his mouth and his dreads were pinned up using lit incense sticks.

"Wah gawnn," he said, giving Talon a pound and bro hug, "Ya name Talon, eeey? Ayeeee…I see ya meet mi gal, 'ere name Lucinda."

Lucinda smiled at the both of them and sat on the couch, turning on their flat screen.

"Ya likkle late," No Snitching said, "An' ya look rass young. Oh well, X did start out young as 'ell."

He looked at the duffle bag and Talon put it on the countertop. With that, No Snitching went to close the curtains. He opened the bag and looked at Talon when he saw baby toys.

"Nah, nah, there's a hidden compartment—lemme…" he reached into the bag, opening the compartment pockets and No Snitching smiled, grinning.

"True say dey did tell me dat ya a smart lee'boi," he said laughing, taking out the baggies of weed and placing them on the granite. He opened one and smelled it, his tail twitching as he did. "Look 'ere, ya smell dis? Dis da truuuuuth, mi guy. This gawn fa sum bloodclat ten-t'ousand out in backa-yard. Mi no do no business wit no yardie den, dey da try cheat me, but ya kno ME, when dey try boss up I lick-shot. Mi no mess wit no badmind niggas out 'ere."

Talon nodded, "Yo…can I smoke in here?"

"Tch, course ya can, wah ya t'ink dis is? School?" He laughed and took a hit of his blunt, rifling through the baggies.

"So…I heard mad shit 'bout you…and this a nice ass place you got, for real…" the sophomore said, lighting a new cigarette and taking a shallow drag.

"Ya t'ink?" He kissed his teeth, "Ain't NUT-TING like dis backa-yard, straight don-gorgon shit dere, ye know? Lemme aks ya sumthin tho. Ya tryna get good in da game? Lemme 'ear? Also, ya wan nam on sumthin? I got some oxtail."

"Nah bruh, had a bacon egg and cheese on my way here. But yea…I just started out, cuz I needed some bread."

"Ya, ya, I feel ya, I feel ya," No Snitching said. He gathered up the baggies and placed them in a safe he had just above a painting in the den. Talon was surprised at how short he was—he was taller than him. Lucinda was also taller than him. But he must have been doing something right to have a house this nice.

"So, ya wan stay, or ya wan see sum good shit."

Talon considered it for a bit and then nodded, "Yeah, iight, I'ma stay. Lemme see what you holding down."

No Snitching laughed, clapped excitedly and pointed, "My man, lemme show YOU, my 'ole operation—X-Large love my shit, I love his shit—cuz we t'ink alike, ya know? Dem likkle bumbarass fool can't romp with us. No Snitching and X-Large is don-gorgon wit all dis. Lemme show you—"

Talon followed No Snitching to the back, down the stairs to a large dark room that was lit with ultraviolet lights.

His eyes widened when he saw it. A whole greenhouse of weed that was being tended to by water sprinklers every so often. No Snitching grinned at him, loving the expression on his face. He patted Talon's back.

"And wit dat," No Snitching said, smiling at him, "De Indigo done grow. X-Large been waitin' on dis trade. Ya gon move 10 pound of dis back into Los Lados, ya 'ear?"

Talon nodded.

"Good, good, bread'dren, now…help me baggie dis shit up. Buh wait—" he reached into his pocket, taking out a stack of hundreds. It had to be four to five thousand in that impressive stack. He pulled out Talon's hand and slapped the money in it, patting his shoulder.

"Dat fa you. Keep dis up, ya gon live like me, soon. Ya pickni na kno nuttin' bout this trade, but you…I see potential inna you. Anyways!" He began cutting the buds off the plants into a plastic bin.

"Help me nah man? We gon start bagging it up now so ya can get back to Los Lados before nighttime. Dat when babylon be crawlin' dem streets."

Talon chuckled, grinning as he helped him snip the buds. When they managed to finish that up, they sat down in the dark room, bagging them up so it could be transported. As he did, Talon felt the nervousness fade away. The five thousand in his pocket helped with that.

It ain't easy.

No Snitching took a swig of Tanqueray straight from the bottle as he bagged up the Indigo, grinning as he did. He bobbed his head to the reggae playing in the backdrop.

It ain't easy

Talon inspected the weed and nodded in approval as he weighed them. No Snitching cut off more buds, going in the cabinets to get more baggies.

It ain't ever easy. Gon' be a long afternoon. It ain't easy…but it worth it.