Block Party 2: The Afterparty by Al-Saadiq Banks

Author:Al-Saadiq Banks [Banks, Al-Saadiq]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Literary, Fiction
ISBN: 9780974061047
Google: aS35AAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0974061042
Publisher: True 2 Life Productions
Published: 2006-03-30T08:00:00+00:00

Fifty

Hours Later

The sun is setting. ILL Wheel cruises through Clinton Avenue in the stolen Dodge Intrepid. Ahmir fills the passenger’s seat while Dusty occupies the back passenger’s seat.

“Right here, right here,” Ahmir instructs as ILL Wheel nears 19th street. ILL Wheel makes the right turn down the block. They all quickly spot Ice’s Mercedes parked in the middle of the block.

ILL Wheel pulls right up to it and double parks next to him. He taps the horn to catch Ice’s attention.

Ice gives him a head nod to let him know that he recognizes that they’re here. He slowly exits his car wearing a long saddened face. He drags himself lazily around to the driver’s side of the Intrepid. He slowly lowers himself into the back seat. “What up ya’ll?”

No one responds to his greeting except for Ahmir. “What’s good?”

Ice is still second guessing this whole situation. He rather just pay the boy for the chain and call it a day. The last thing he wants is trouble. “Yo Ahmir, let me talk to you outside the car for a minute,” he asks.

“You can talk right here,” Ahmir replies. “This all family in here. It’s all good,” he adds.

“I know but I need to holler at you real quick?”

“Hmphh,” Ahmir sighs hating to get up and get out of the car. He lays his Five-Seven on the floor, before getting out. His .40 cal he grips in his right hand inside the pocket of his step-in.

He hops out and takes a few steps away from the car. He immediately faces the street watching the traffic that passes him.

Ice gets out of the car and walks right over to Ahmir. “Mir, I don’t think this is a good idea. I talked to my man, Shay. The boy gone give me all my shit back for nothing,” Ice lies. We gone squash it from there. Nobody ain’t get hurt and I’m getting my shit back. All this really ain’t worth it. You know I ain’t about that beef shit. I’m about money,” he adds.

“It ain’t worth it?” Ahmir asks in a high-pitched tone. Ahmir can’t believe his ears. Punk motherfucker, he thinks to himself. “Nigga, it’s the principle! A motherfucker laid you down in front of a broad, took all your jewels and you telling me it ain’t worth it?” he asks sarcastically. “Listen, it’s like this…you let this slide and you ain’t gone be able to make another dollar in this town. The streets are watching, nigga. The wolves gone be on yo ass. This will not be the end of it. Plus, I’ll bet you anything, your man Shay set this up. Trust me, if you don’t do something, you might as well kiss the game goodbye. It’s over for you!”

Ice stands there with a goofy look on his face. He does realize what Ahmir is saying is actually true, but he really doesn’t want any trouble with anyone.

Ahmir looks Ice in the eyes. He can’t believe that this sucker of a man is supposedly his “Big Homie.

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