Midnight: A Gangster Love Story by Sister Souljah

Author:Sister Souljah
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Washington Square Press

28

CONFLICT

A lot of cats were milling on my Brooklyn block that night. Springtime brings everybody out who was either hibernating or hiding for the winter.

I was walking through on a humble, home much earlier than I planned to be, maneuvering to stay out of any one guy’s path or clique. Still I was watching, catching everything going on to my left and my right, as well as directly in front of me.

Of course I seen Kelvin, aka Conflict, hosting an outside conference in the corner in the dark. I had noticed his black Camry first, with the white leather interior and the big Mercedes-Benz sticker he had plastered across his back window. DeQuan was standing with him in a tight circle of four, his brand new Kawasaki bike parked close by with one of his brothers standing on post to make sure nobody fucked with it.

Conflict broke his quiet conversation off and called me over. Instinctively, I ran my hand over my Caesar cut, paused for a minute then walked over slowly. They all slanted inwards, converting their circle into a semicircle with everybody facing me. Conflict was doing all the talking.

“I see you wearing fatigues tonight,” he said. I didn’t respond ’cause it wasn’t a question and what the fuck did he want anyway? His ten-karat so-called gold, hanging from his neck, was a poorly crafted pendant of a gun.

“Are you a soldier?” he asked me.

“What’s up? What’d you call me over for?” I asked him solemnly. He broke a half smile. The other three of them, including Ronald and Rolland Smash, were straight-faced.

“Nah, you ain’t no soldier ’cause soldiers know how to get in line,” he said. DeQuan cut in. “Nah man. He’s good. Lil’ man is good,” he said firmly.

“You still calling him ‘Lil’ man’ and now he’s bigger than you,” Conflict reprimanded. The other two laughed. I remained solid.

“This man is about to spread his wings and take flight,” Conflict said to the three of them.

“If you don’t want nothing, I’m gonna push on,” I told Conflict.

“You checking him out?” he asked the other three.

I folded my arms in front of me and looked Conflict in the eye. My green army shirt rose up a little so the metal on my piece could flash a warning into his eye. I knew he was holding. I knew DeQuan was holding. I could see Rolland was holding too. They were all nine or ten years older than me but my nine milli made us even.

“I see how you walk through here styling every day. What I don’t see is how and where you earning,” Conflict said, sporting his two-piece corduroy Lee suit and brown suede Wallabees.

“So?” I answered.

“This is my hood. I hold it down. You should already know that. Anybody earning out here gotta run it through me. Ya know what I mean?” he threatened.

“I got a job. I ain’t hustling,” I said dryly. There was a pause and a standoff.

“What about a woman?” he asked out of left field.

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