Eviction Notice, page 10
“You look well for a man who got carved up like a turkey a few hours ago,” Sincere said sarcastically.
“A jury of twelve couldn’t take me out, then letting those street urchins do it would’ve been an insult to my pedigree. Besides”—Animal patted his bandaged side—“Sonja can work magic with those hands.” He saw the hurt in Sincere’s eyes when he made the statement.
“Yeah, Sonja had to lay hands on me a few times back in the days,” Sincere boasted.
“So I’ve heard, but that girl has come a long way as far as technique.” Animal cracked a diamond-toothed smile.
“If you two are finished trying to see whose dick is the biggest, there’s a situation that I need to address,” K-Dawg cut in.
Sincere continued to glare at Animal like he wanted to do something, but he wasn’t fool enough to challenge K-Dawg’s authority. “You got that, boss,” he told K-Dawg.
“As long as you keep that in the forefront of your mind we’ll never have a problem,” K-Dawg assured Sincere. “Do me a favor: go get ready for that li’l thing we talked about. I wanna make sure everybody is correct when y’all roll out, feel me?”
“A’ight, Dawg.” Sincere addressed K-Dawg but kept his eyes on Animal. “See you around, homie.”
“Better you see me before I see you. It’ll make it more fun,” Animal capped back.
K-Dawg waited until Sincere was out of earshot before addressing Animal. “You two niggaz kill me, out here ready to off each other over a piece of pussy, but nobody’s worried about the fact that that girl’s daddy will have the both of you clipped if he finds out you’re playing hide the salami with his daughter.”
Animal raised his hands in surrender. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“What-the-fuck-ever”—K-Dawg waved him off—“just remember that I warned you. So how’ve you been holding up out here, li’l bro, everything good?”
Animal made a dismissive gesture. “Outside of the fact that I’m a prisoner on this island, everything is roses.”
K-Dawg frowned. “Animal, why are you always such a pessimist? Look around you”—he motioned at the countryside—“beautiful land, the best weed, and your choice of the finest women Puerto Rico has to offer. What more could you ask for?”
“To be free,” Animal shot back.
“Listen, kid, I don’t know if you got the memo or not but there ain’t no such thing as free for you anymore, or have you forgotten about all those bodies you left laying around New York? Animal, out of love for your brother I extend my hand to you, but there’s only but so many times I’m gonna let you spit in it.”
“K-Dawg, he didn’t mean anything by it. Animal is just having a hard time adjusting to all this,” Justice interjected.
Animal waved him off. “You ain’t no ventriloquist and I ain’t no dummy so please stop speaking for me, Jus. K-Dawg, how long have you known me?”
“Shit, all your life. Even when you thought I was dead I was keeping tabs on you and the wild shit you were doing on them streets. Everybody feared the Animal and I had never been more proud of you.”
Animal cracked a slight smile at the flattering words. “Thanks, big homie, but my point is: if you know me then you know I’m a man set in my ways. I had a life before you brought me here, Dawg, a life that one day I’d like to get back to or at least as close to it as I can.” He thought of Gucci when he said this.
K-Dawg stared at Animal, waiting for the punch line, but his face said he was serious. At that moment K-Dawg didn’t see the belligerent young killer but the little boy who used to try to follow him and Justice on capers. “Li’l bro, I know you think I’m being an asshole about all this, but trust me, I have your best interest in mind.” He placed a hand on Animal’s shoulder and looked at him seriously. “That long, dark road you’re just starting down I’ve been walking on for more than ten years. In the blink of an eye everything and everybody I knew became dead to me, and I had to accept it or spend the rest of my life in captivity. I can’t say it was the easiest thing I ever did, but there was only one real choice. If the only way my people can see me is through a glass until the end of time, then I might as well be dead to them anyway.”
“Which is why I buried Tayshawn and will forever be Animal, but it’s not that easy for some of us to just give everything up like that,” Animal told him.
“Unfortunately, you’re going to have to adjust. Animal, you walking outta here and risking getting caught not only puts you in danger but my people as well. My men trust me with their lives and I can’t put them in harm’s way, even for family.”
Animal was silent for a long moment. He knew K-Dawg was trying to read him to see how he would react to the proclamation, but Animal was too seasoned to expose his hand too soon. For now he would let diplomacy speak where his guns normally would have. “I hear you, big homie.”
“You hear me, but do you understand me?” K-Dawg glared at him.
“Justice said you needed something handled. What’s popping?” Animal changed the subject.
K-Dawg peeped his tactic but wouldn’t press the issue. “Indeed I do. Now I know you know the skinny as to why we’re still in Puerto Rico—”
“Yeah, Poppito hates Cruz and we’re here to whack Cruz,” Animal cut him off. “We know all this, so let’s just kill this muthafucka and move on.”
K-Dawg laughed at Animal’s outburst as he knew he was getting under his skin. “Animal, for as much as you picked up on the streets, it’s amazing how much you still don’t know. Political warfare is the real deal, so you gotta make sure you play it right or you’ll find yourself locked in some third-world mudhole they call a prison or dead, and dead is lucky when you’re playing with these guys. This ain’t like capping drug dealers in the projects, so pay attention and you may actually live long enough to see that pretty li’l bitch you’re stressing over.”
Justice snickered.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” K-Dawg turned his green eyes on Justice. “How many fucking fugitives do you know that have Facebook pages? I don’t know if it’s a genetic defect or what, but you and your brother better stop playing and get with the program. Now look: we done got these muthafuckas in check but there’s still a move or two to be made before we can move them into mate.” K-Dawg pulled a Polaroid from his pocket and threw it onto the wicker table. The man in the picture was an older gentleman with hard eyes and bulldoglike cheeks. Atop his block-shaped head was a thick nest of salt-and-pepper hair that he wore slicked back.
Animal stared at the picture long enough to burn the image into his brain. “Who is that?”
“The last rook on the board.” K-Dawg grinned wickedly. “Cruz pulls the strings because he’s police, but it’s this piece of shit that the street soldiers listen to.”
“This old fuck”—Animal frowned—“he don’t look so tough to me.”
“That because you’re young and dumb, kid.” K-Dawg smirked. “In the late seventies and early eighties that nigga had Spanish Harlem rocking until a fifteen-to-life rocked him. He served eighteen on that, then came home on parole and vanished. He’s been out here for most of that time, helping Cruz organize his operation. Cruz is the brains but the old man is the finger on the trigger. Cruz is on the ropes right now. The people are starting to call for his head because of the rash of murders, his people are dying left and right, and the Puerto Rican government is about ready to wash their hands of him and his bullshit. The old man is the glue holding things together right now, so if we knock him out we take away Cruz’s warlord and his street protection. Once the old man goes, this shit is gonna fall like dominoes and Cruz will have no choice but to try and go into hiding, which is what we want. As soon as he sticks his head out, I’m gonna blow it off.”
“Sounds good to me. How soon do we move on the old guy?” Animal asked.
K-Dawg looked at his watch. “In a few hours.”
Justice was surprised by the suddenness of the move and it showed on his face. “Forever the impulsive one, huh, Big Dawg?”
K-Dawg sensed his friend’s apprehension and it made him smile. “Justice, you of all people should know better than that. I’ve been planning this hit for a month.”
“So why didn’t you let us in on it?”
“Because the information was on the need-to-know basis and you didn’t need to know until now.” K-Dawg picked up the picture and flicked a lighter under it. The Polaroid began to crinkle under the heat as the flames licked up the edges. “Besides, this one isn’t for you, Justice. I’m putting Animal and Sincere on the case.”
“Man, fuck all that, I can handle this on my own,” Animal told him.
“I’m sure you can, but I want you to do it with Sincere. He’s a good soldier.”
Animal frowned in displeasure. “I don’t doubt that, but the boy has got a serious attitude problem and I don’t need him cramping my style while I’m trying to work.”
“Look who the fuck is talking.” K-Dawg glared at Animal. “Kid, you’ve been running around with a chip on your shoulder damn near since you got here, so let’s not go casting stones. Now I know you’re used to that lone-wolf shit, but you’re part of the unit now, so all petty differences go out the window when it comes to business.”
“So what’s the game plan, Dawg? A dude this high up the food chain ain’t likely to be an easy target,” Justice said, changing the subject.
“The old man is no fool, so he doesn’t have any set routines but one. Every two weeks he gets his hair cut at the same shit-hole barbershop down in the square.”
“Why would somebody sitting on all that paper go down to the hood to get their hair cut?” Justice wondered aloud.
K-Dawg shrugged. “He’s been using the same barber since he came to the island and refuses to let anyone else touch his hair. Some kinda superstitious shit, but who cares? His superstitious nature is our gain. I want this to be messy. When people hear what happened to that fuck, I want to send a very clear message.”
“I’m good at sending messages. I got some preparations to make and I’ll be ready to roll in a few,” Animal told them and left the two men alone.
“Looks like we’re about to wrap this up soon, huh?” Justice asked.
K-Dawg nodded. “As soon as I present Poppito with Cruz’s head, we get our bread and we’re outta here.”
“So where to next—Europe, Asia? I never been to Japan but I heard that shit is popping.”
“Your sightseeing tour will have to wait for a while, Jus. I’ve got some unfinished business locally that I need to wrap up before we move on.”
“So we’re staying in Puerto Rico?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say that there’s a debt owed to me that I plan to collect in the very near future,” K-Dawg said and walked into the house, leaving Justice to wonder.
CHAPTER 15
Old man Tony busied himself with sweeping up the excess hair around the two chairs in the tiny barbershop from the few morning cuts he’d administered. Normally at that time of day the shop would’ve been sprinkled with men from the neighborhood, getting haircuts or swapping stories, but Tony had closed down early to receive his special client.
The ringing bell over the front door startled the old man. In walked a heavyset man wearing a gray tracksuit and white running shoes. Flanking him was a round man with a large nose who wore a dead expression on his face.
“Hey, Grovaldo, good to see you.” Tony stopped sweeping and walked over to greet the gangster.
“You know you’re the only man on the island I’d let touch this pretty mop of mine.” Grovaldo patted his high hair. He plopped into one of the chairs and got comfortable as Tony draped a smock around his neck.
“Grovaldo, I’d offer you some coffee but we’re all out. I sent my boy home early and didn’t have a chance to go to the store myself.”
“Don’t worry about it, Tony. I’ll take care of it. Gino,” he said, drawing the soldier’s attention from the magazine he was reading in the next chair, “do you think you can pry yourself away from your studies and go grab us some coffees?”
“But the store is like five blocks away,” Gino complained.
“It looks like you could use the exercise.” Grovaldo laughed. “Now move your ass!”
“Alright, alright.” Gino tossed the magazine down and hauled himself out of the chair.
“And while you’re down there, get us some of those pastries the old lady makes,” Grovaldo shouted after him. “I love those things, don’t you, Tony?”
“Sí.” Tony grinned and nodded like he always did when Grovaldo spoke. “So, do you want your usual?” Tony began sharpening his razor on the leather strap hanging from the chair.
“Yeah, a little off the sides and clean up this stubble.” Grovaldo ran his hand across his chin. “My girlfriend doesn’t like the stubble on my face scratching her thighs when I’m going down on her.” He laughed.
“Don’t worry, your face will be as smooth as a baby’s ass when I’m done,” Tony assured him as he took the towels out of the steamer. He wrapped one around Grovaldo’s face and began mixing shaving cream in a small cup.
“Tony, how long have I been coming to you to get my hair cut?” Grovaldo asked from beneath the towel.
“I don’t know, maybe ten years or so. You’ve been a good customer and a loyal friend. When they rioted in the square back in ninety-eight my shop was the only business that didn’t get touched, and I am thankful to have a friend like you.”
“As you should be. Señor Cruz and I know how to take care of our friends, not like that Poppito and his bunch.”
“We hear many horrible stories about him and Los Negros Muertes, not good at all. But Señor Cruz and his men make the streets safe for an old man like me,” Tony lied. In all truthfulness, Cruz and his crooked cops were just as bad as Poppito, if not worse, because they had the government on their side.
“Damn right we do. Poppito thinks he’s being cute by bringing blacks to do his dirty work, but we’ve got a trick for them. Soon there will be no question as to who controls Old San Juan,” Grovaldo boasted.
“I as well as the citizens pray for the day when this war is brought to an end,” Tony said sincerely.
Grovaldo went on and on, rambling, but Tony was only half listening. All he wanted to do was get the gangster out of his shop so he could go home to his family. He was just about to get started on Grovaldo’s grooming when a gust of wind licked his cheek. When he made to turn, a gun barrel was placed against the back of his head. Sincere placed his finger over his lips, warning the barber to be silent, and Tony fearfully complied.
“Yes, my old friend, better days are on the horizon,” Grovaldo said smugly as the towel around his face was unwrapped. He expected to look in the mirror and see Tony standing behind him, but instead he saw Sincere and a wild-haired young man standing in front of him holding two knives. He tried to get up, but Sincere yanked him back down with the towel wrapped around his neck.
“Buenos días,” Animal greeted him before driving the two knives into his hands, pinning them to the arms of the chairs. When Grovaldo opened his mouth to scream, Animal dumped the cup of shaving cream into it. “We can’t have you waking the neighbors now, can we?”
“You cocksucking muthafuckas—do you know who I am?” Grovaldo gasped.
“I sure hope so, because I’d hate to have to do this all over again,” Animal told him as he pulled out his Desert Eagle.
“What, am I supposed to be scared now? I’ve seen the devil and told him to suck my dick, so if you think you two li’l wet-behind-the-ears muthafuckas put fear in my heart, you can go fuck yourself.” Grovaldo spat in Animal’s face.
Animal calmly wiped the spit from his face with the back of his sleeve. He placed the gun back in his pants. He leaned in over Grovaldo and placed his hands on the hilt of the knives, driving them deeper into Grovaldo’s hands.
“You muthafucka,” Grovaldo bellowed.
“I’ve been called worse.” Animal busied himself, rummaging through the barber’s tools on the counter. When he turned back to Grovaldo he was holding a pair of scissors and tongs. “I was sent here to kill you, but I’ve got a better idea.” He opened and closed the scissors. “You, my bigmouthed friend, will serve as a living reminder to those who challenge the authority of Los Negros Muertes. Now open wide, you little bitch.”
* * *
The few blocks to the coffee shop and back felt like miles to the heavyset Gino. As he approached the barbershop there was a car pulling off, but he paid it no mind, as that area was high traffic at that time of day. When he entered the shop he dropped the coffee and pastries to the floor. Tony was slumped in one of the barber chairs with a bullet through his eye. On the floor, Grovaldo lay in a pool of his own blood. At first Gino through he was dead, but then he saw the man’s leg move.
“Grovaldo.” Gino knelt at his side. The blood on the floor seeped through his pants but he paid it no mind. When he flipped his boss over he had to fight the urge to vomit. Both his ears had been sawed off to the gristle, and one of his eyes was missing. What was left of his tongue flapped around in his mouth as he tried to speak, but all that came out was a distorted gurgling. Grovaldo was allowed to keep his life, if you could call the condition he was in a life, but it was just as Animal had promised: Grovaldo would serve as a living reminder of just how Los Negros Muertes gave it up.
