tell them me and you homies,” Jojo says. “They don’t believe me.”
“We’re homies,” I say, signing my name for a little boy who’s sucking his thumb. “Long as you’ve been going to school and staying out of trouble.” I look up at him as I write.
“I been going to school!” he says. No mention of the trouble part.
“Me and my twin know all the words to your song!” this snaggle-toothed girl pipes up.
I scribble my name for her. “Oh, for real?”
“‘Strapped like backpacks, I pull triggers,’” she and her sister squeak. “‘All the clips on my hips change my figure.’”
I stop writing.
How old are they? Six? Seven?
“I told them you be blasting niggas, Bri,” Jojo says. “Don’t you?”
My stomach churns. “No, I don’t, Jo—”
“Ay, ay, ay!” Aunt Pooh calls out as she comes over. She moves several of the kids out of her way. “Y’all, chill out. Give the superstar a break, a’ight?”
Aunt Pooh leads me toward the courtyard. I glance back at Jojo and his friends. I’ve got them rapping about guns and shit. Is that even okay?
Aunt Pooh hops up on the hood of Scrap’s car. He’s nowhere around. She pats the spot beside her. “You good?”
She’s been MIA for over a week after vowing to go kill somebody. How does she think I am? “Where you been?”
“Look, that ain’t your business.”
“Are you kidding—I been texting you! You had me worried! You remember the last time I saw you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you—”
“Don’t worry ’bout what I did. I ain’t get the chain back, so it don’t even matter.”
Oh, shit. She did something. I fold my hands on top of my head. “Please don’t tell me you killed—”
“Ain’t nobody dead, Bri,” she says.
“I’m supposed to feel better about that? What did you do?”
“The less you know, the better, a’ight!” she snaps.
Oh, God. Thing is, nobody has to be dead. Aunt Pooh just started something, regardless, and starting something in the Garden is never good.
Retaliation never ends around here. But lives do. Worst part? It’s on me.
“I shouldn’t have called you. I don’t want them coming after you.”
“Look, I’m ready for whatever, whenever,” she says. “I’m sorrier that I didn’t get that chain back for you.”
Once upon a time I was devastated to lose that thing, but now? It seems worthless. “I’d rather have you.”
“Me.” She says it almost mockingly, as if she’s a joke. “Shit, I ain’t gon’ lie. You just gave me an excuse to go after them fools. I been wanting to do something to them.”
“Because of Dad?”
Aunt Pooh nods. “Why you think I became a Garden Disciple in the first place? I wanted to go after whoever killed Law.”
Add that to the list of things I didn’t know. I hop up onto the hood beside her. “Really?”
It takes her a second to answer. She stares at this black car with tinted windows that cruises through the parking lot.
“Yeah,” she finally says. “Law was my brother, my Yoda, or whatever that li’l green dude’s name is.”
“You got it right.” Impressively. I mean, damn, she knew the name and that he’s green.
“Yeah, him,” she says. “He looked out for me and genuinely cared about me, you know? When they killed him, it was one of the worst days of my life. Losing Momma and Daddy was bad enough. Then Jay got on that stuff not long after he died. Felt like I ain’t have anybody.”
“You had me and Trey.”
“Nah. Your grandma and granddaddy had you and Trey,” she says. “That grandma of yours is a trip. She ain’t really want me coming around y’all. Can’t blame her though. I wanted blood. I went to the GDs that used to hang with Law and told them I was down for whatever to get revenge. They told me I don’t want that on me. But they let me join. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have had anybody.”
“Well, you’ve got us now.”
Her lips slowly turn up. “Corny ass. Getting all sentimental. You know you done pissed off a hell of a lot of people, right? That news report and that petition?” She laughs. “Goddamn, who knew a song could get folks that upset?”
I gotta tell her about Supreme. She may hate me, might cuss me out, but she has to know. “Hype invited me on his show to talk about it.”