chapter six: try me
song: try me x the weeknd

<colin>

Thursday
June 9
7ish PM

part one:
𝕶𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖑, Kwame and Little were walking to the store near a friends house on the west side of Detroit where they were spending the day. It was getting darker as they were walking down the street when a car began to trail them, Little looked back, being the only one of the three who grew up in the hood, he was most aware of his surroundings. He tapped his older cousins on the arm, "y'all know them?" He asked and they looked over at the car who was riding along side them slowly. It was a gold Buick with one man leaning out the passenger window, watching them.

The man in the car nodded at them, "y'all don't look like y'all from around here. Who y'all with?" He asked. They looked at eachother not knowing what to say, but Cecil had been listening to grown folks conversations and he said what he felt he should, "Mac our uncle."

"Mac?" He laughed, "Mac who?"

"Don't roll up on us no more." He said sternly and kept walking. The two older boys followed his lead and the car sped off.

"Who was that?" Khalil asked.

"Ion know. But, don't let nobody punk you out on the street. Y'all look soft looking around all confused and whatnot."

"Nigga, you look soft! Lightskin ass."

He just looked them up and down, ignoring their banter. "Should we tell Uncle Mac about this?"

Little shrugged, not knowing if it was even that serious. "But, that dude definitely knows uncle Mac or he wouldn't have left us alone."

"Or maybe he left us alone because he doesn't know uncle Mac and didn't think it was worth it to bother us." Kwame concluded for himself.

"Mhm." Little nodded, knowing better. He leaned forward, opening the door to the corner store followed by the twins.

Across the way, the sun was reflecting off of the water, glaring into the window of a tall brick home outside of the city. One nigga, dark skinned and smiling, another, tanned from summers in Alabama, nervous, sat across from eachother at a dinning table in the kitchen of the home. The television echoed from the front room being the only other source of sound amid the conversation. They were on a date. Sort of.

"Honestly, I feel like I don't really know a lot about you." Cole studied Lonnie's face. He liked how his freckles which he never really payed any attention to were now so evident with his southern tan. "I thought I did. Before."

"Why do you feel like you don't now?"

Cole shrugged. "Time. I guess. And, I mean you died. Imagine finding out that Cobe actually isn't dead."

Lonnie stared across the table.

"You feel like you know me." Cole concluded by the blank expression on Lonnie's face.

"I do. I know you."

"How can you say that so confidently?"

"Because." He paused, "Because I forget a lot of things, but you're a memory that has never faded. All of our conversations, your expressions, your voice— confidently implanted in my memory."

Cole spoke in a hushed tone, unnerved. "You saying that like i'm not here no more."

"You're not. You don't want to be."

Cole was quiet. He poked his fork around his plate.

"Am I wrong?" He asked, "I had to beg to see you."

Cole sighed, frustrated, "If I remember correctly, it was the opposite right before you left."

"I was going through something."

"And, now I am." Cole shrugged. "I got too much shit going on to be fighting to bring back something that—" he stopped, unwilling to say what should come next. He couldn't bring himself to devalue what existed between them.

Lonnie played with the buckle on the pocket of his cargos; this was weird for him— being so nervous. He'd been waiting for this moment for years and now that he was back in Cole's face, he felt as if he couldn't be himself. Cole's intense eyes didn't help either. Lonnie felt like Cole was taking in every ounce of his being and comparing it to what he remembered.

"Why did you invite me over?" Lonnie asked point blank. "I feel like you punishing me."

Cole chuckled at the accusation.

Lonnie sneered at his reaction.

"The fuck are you even doing here?" Cole asked, "If you had to leave for your safety, why would you come back?"

"I came back for Makaveli. I don't want him to stay here with my parents and Jah— he's gone and up like them."

Cole leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist while he listened.

"He doesn't believe the environment is bad though."

"He just got released from prison, right?" Lonnie nodded, "Why the hell would he want to be anywhere than with his family? Can he even leave the state?"

"I don't care about all of that. I found out that life looks different from the outside." He said squarely, although very opaque with his meaning, Cole understood. "Thanks to you, I got to see it."

"What did I do?"

"You told me it was okay, who I am. And then you told me that there are things that aren't okay about who I am. You gave me your words. Nobody ever talked to me like that."

"Well I meant it. All of it— whether it made a difference or not."

"It did. And i'm different now because of it. I grew up."

"Good for you." Cole argued. He let out a staggered breath, waiting for himself to be on the list of reasons he's seeing Lonnie now after all these years— being called a therapist of the sorts was never his expectation and not what he wanted to hear.

Lonnie caught on to the disappointment but was unable to place the reason. So, in true fashion, he assumed that Cole wanted him to leave. He leaned back in this seat, dropping his fork on the plate. "I got enough people who just don't fuck with me. Like my brother, who obviously hates me." He paused, looking away from Cole down at his ringing phone which he silenced. "I really hoped you'd never be on that list."

"Dame don't hate you."

"He should." He started, "Oh yeah, that reminds me. About last night, i'm sorry."

"I don't hate you Lonnie."

Lonnie shrugged watching Cole's lips as he spoke, but Cole stopped and looked at Lonnie until Lonnie looked him in the eyes, "why do you keep looking at my lips when I talk?" Cole asked, mixing irritation with pleasure causing an upside down smirk.

"Because I wanna kiss you." Lonnie blurted out.

"Then why haven't you kissed me yet?"

He looked at him longingly as if asking for permission. Cole gave a subtle nod giving Lonnie the go to get up from his seat and approach Cole. He leaned down to his level and pecked his lips, holding them there not wanting to move. Disconnecting for only a second, he put his hands on Cole's shoulders and put his leg up and over Cole's lap, straddling him. His arms stayed over Cole's shoulder as Cole leaned in first, capturing Lonnie's lips into his.

"I want you back, boy." Lonnie pleaded softly; his eyes were closed and their lips were merely centimeters apart. Lonnie's palms were rested on the nape of Cole's head.

"You never lost me." Cole replied in a tone just as soft. He rested his head on Lonnie's bossom, placing kisses on his clothed chest. They stayed like this, Cole's arms wrapped around Lonnie's lower back, for a moment that felt as long as the time they'd spent apart.

"I'm want you to know that I-" Lonnie's daydream was cut off by his phone that had now rung for the third time. He looked at Cole who had his phone in his hand.

"It's Jah." He told him, holding the phone across the table for Cole to take. Lonnie stared at Cole, wanting to ignore the call. The ringing stopped and began again in the same second. Cole answered it for him, placing it on Lonnie's ear.

Jah began speaking immediately without a greeting. "Them niggas pulled up on the twins when they was walking to the store. Asking them who they wit and shit, we about to go over there 'cause why they fucking with lil kids?"

"Why are you telling me?" Lonnie asked, already have accepted that he was no longer part of the crew.

"King, come ride with us." He heard Maki in the background.

Lonnie scoffed. "Why is Makaveli with you!"

Maki exclaimed, "Bro, why are you tripping? You coming through or not?"

"I'm not." He answered.

"But, Little was there too. With the twins." His little brother instigated.

"Cole's nephew." Jah emphasized, knowing he'd peak his brother's interest.

"Are you sure?"

"Yerr." He heard Maki's voice.

"But I get it, you ain't gotta come." Jah said, solidly without a second thought. "I know you said—"

"Nah, I'm coming." He said, then caught Cole's waiting expression.

"I'm just saying, you ain't gotta come down. I know you busy or whatever."

"What the fuck? I'm on my way, nigga." He said, already apologizing to Cole with his big puppy dog eyes. "I gotta go handle some shit."

"But you just got here."

"I know." He took the phone from Cole's hand, "and I'll be back I promise."

"Don't promise me nothing and I won't expect nothing." Cole said, looking up at an already standing Lonnie. He watched him gather his things and walk out of the kitchen with his shirt slightly raised exposing the gun tucked into the back of his pants. Cole stared at it until Lonnie adjusted his shirt, covering the firearm.

When Lonnie pulled up, his brothers and a few others from their crew were already crowding the lawn. Their cars that littered the narrow street. "Look at what the cat dragged in." Thurgood said from the porch. He was sitting on top of the pillar of the stair rail accompanied by about ten other Arab niggas scattered about the address. "Baby boy done broke outta jail." He smiled showing beautiful bright pearl colored teeth. Makaveli leaned up against a car parked in the driveway that put him only a few feet from where Thurgood was sitting. "I ain't know you was out." He said as if he was greeting an old friend.

"I ain't know you was out either, nigga."

"I been out a few years now." Thurgood said, maintaining eye contact while he spoke— as good as he could since Makaveli kept looking away. He noticed Lonnie had arrived and was standing up against his car across the street. He raised a smirk and looked away from his brother just as quick.

"The fuck y'all doing?" Jah asked, bumping Mak in his arm, "this ain't no family reunion you and yo niggas got me fucked up." Jah said, waving his gun towards the men on the porch.

Makaveli put his arm out in front of his brother, nodding. He liked being perceived as the levelheaded one in the crew. "What kinda car you drive?" He asked Thurgood who pointed to the gold Buick Makaveli was leaning on seconds ago. "You see it." He said, confidently. Maki turned his head, looking at the shiny car,  glistening underneath the streetlights. Makaveli's face turned from welcoming to stoic, staring at his own reflection in the car. He walked back into the group of his crew, deep in the middle, emerging with a metal bat. He held it, resting it on his shoulder.

"I'm only giving you one warning. It's been a while since I bashed an ashy sand nigga with my favorite bat." He frowned, "Please don't have me come looking for you niggas on account of my family— and fasho the kids are off limits."

"Ah," Thurgood nodded, standing up from his seat. He stood at the top of the stairs, before the crew forcing them to look up at him and he down, "So the kids off limits now?"

"Kids are off limits. It's not new."

Thurgood shook his head. "I disagree."

Makaveli walked up the stairs, followed by Jah. He stood right in the mug of Thurgood with his palm placed on his chest, a method he'd always used to chill out when he got heated. "Aye, I said you get one warning." He moved his hand from his chest to Thurgood's thick shoulder, "Don't try me." He said, looking right into his eyes. Thurgood placed his hand on top of Makaveli's, from any other perspective, it was rough how he threw his hand away from his body, but Thurgood's thumb caressed the palm of Makaveli's hand, out of view from everyone. Maki shuddered, walking back down the stairs, swinging the bat by his leg. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, turned, then swung the bat right into the window of the gold Buick. Smashing it, leaving only edges of glass in the window frame.

Thurgood's crew jumped towards him but he stopped them, "He aight." Thurgood assured them, "He good." He said, calmly, watching as Makaveli began walking away. "I can handle baby boy." He added, in turn Mak ran back smashing the tail light of the car, "Handle that, nigga." He challenged, pointing the bat towards Good.

The crew walked off behind Maki and Jah like a processional behind the king and queen. The crew pulled up to a spot nearby afterwards. "A lot of shit has changed since you been gone." Jah told Mak in regards to the words exchanged  between him and Thurgood. "Wanted you to see it for yourself."

"Yeah, ever since Black crybaby ass started tweaking." Someone else said, "Killed that Nigga in cold blood then act like he ain't do the shit. We all know who did it. They all know who did it."

"Black killed a kid?" Maki asked in a almost a whisper. He was in disbelief. Lonnie hadn't even gotten out of his car, but he'd heard the whole conversation.

"Nigga always starting shit he can't finish. Big ass bitch."

Makaveli was looking around in awe of all the blatant disrespect his brother was receiving. "You just letting niggas talk they shit Jaleel?" He turned to his brother who was just leaning on the hood of his car, listening as if it was a normal occurrence. "Jah!" He called again to the man who was only beside him, well within earshot.

He scoffed, looking away from his big brother. "Fuck y'all niggas. I don't give a fuck what happened while I was gone. One thing that ain't gone happen is y'all tearing down a brother. What the hell is wrong with y'all?" He said disgusted, not being able to imagine the crew differently than it was when he came up with them. It was all love and confidence in each other. Now they were banded against his own blood. He couldn't remember a time where his crew acted like that except when there was a rat or somebody switched sides. He was sure his brother did none of that. For one, he's still alive.

He was most at ew with his brother Jaleel who seemed to agree with the fellas. He shook his head and walked around to Lonnie's car. The two of them drove off in silence. Lonnie remembered hating Silent Maki because it meant he was thinking. His mind was something Lonnie didn't like to encounter too much.

"Get to talking." He said simply after two minutes had passed of them driving. Lonnie acted as if he didn't hear him. "I'm already heated, my nigga. What did you do?"

"You don't get to ask me that shit." He replied, calmly.

Makaveli rolled his neck, trying to figure out who Lonnie was talking too. "Pardon?" He asked with a scowl.

"I said you don't get to ask me that shit." He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter while driving, "you left out a few bits and pieces when you was telling me that story earlier. That's some bottom of the barrel punk ass traitor ass shit, Makaveli."

Makaveli snickered in his seat, not being able to take his brother seriously knowing he was no better. "Like Mohammed ain't one of them." He said boldly. Lonnie gripped the steering wheel tighter and laid his foot on the gas a little more and they sped down the highway, he took his gun from underneath his seat and put it to his brother's head, "Say that shit again." He said seeming calm although his actions didn't match. "Say it again." He yelled, not looking anywhere but the road.

Maki was silent again, waiting for Lonnie to move the metal from his temple and calm down. But, Lonnie held it there. They kept driving down the interstate freeway passing signs of familiarity and Lonnie wasn't stopping or slowing down. Maki wanted to ask where they were going, but kept quiet.

Lonnie breathed through his anger masked hurt until his arm, once light from adrenaline, became heavy and led-like with the metal piece in his hand. He lowered it slowly, placing the gun on his lap. His foot laid flat on the floor beneath the gas pedal, allowing the car to slow itself.

The shaving of the tires on the black pavement was the only sound coming off of or out of the car while the two sat idle in their seats, passing road signs, Detroit City limit roll behind them like the others. Makaveli's chest rose and fell with urgency. All he could do was stare out the window at the passing scenery. The car kept going, emptying them off of the freeway in Troy— a city Makaveli was not familiar with. They parked in the garage of the blue painted home and the door shut down behind them.

"The fuck is this Lonnie?" He asked slowly as he unbuckled his seatbelt just as slow.

"Motivation." He said simply, although confusing his young brother more.

p:08142022
e/rp: 05/22/2024