15th District Chronicles Of The 19124

LIFE….

Prologue

It was a seasonably warm day in March of 1992. Mike rolled down the window of his 1990 Cadillac Seville with the blue rag top.

It’s too damn hot out here to only be the second week of March, Mike thought to himself as he made his way down Allegheny Avenue headed towards 30th Street to scoop Reese.

Hustler, word I pull a trigger on, grit my teeth spray in every nigga gone. I got my block sold on the dope spot. Last thing I swear is a sucker punk cop…

Is all Reese heard bumping out of Mike’s Alpine speakers as the white Seville approached the corner where Reese and his squad were posted up, passing blunts and 40’s of Old English.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

What’s up Fam? Mike yelled out from his car window.

Aww ain’t Shit Big Guy, I can’t call it. Where you been, I been paging you all morning?

Yeah I know. I was handling some shit that’s why I came straight to you cause I saw you was hitting me up crazy. Get in let me holla at you about something. Matter of a fact, take this ride with me.

Alright Reese replied getting into the passenger seat of Mike’s car.

As Mike pulled off he immediately started to tell Reese about the situation at hand and how it had to be handled.

Yo man you know I been trying to expand right? So long story short, my aunt just got her Section 8 approved up Frankford. So you know her tricking, crack head ass don’t take no time to get dug in with all the fiends. So I opened up shop ASAP. Just to see what it was hitting for. It’s a goldmine up that mothafucka.

Yeah it’s popping up there like that? Ain’t that like the Northeast or something?

That’s the same thing I thought when I first went up there. Now granted it’s a lot of white people around, but at the same time a projects is right in the middle of the whole neighborhood.

It’s a project up there?

Yeah that’s the same shit I was on, but basically my reason for me even bringing this up is that I need a partner. Slim’s already up there holding the night shift down, but I got two crack spots open that I need you to run. Whoever you link up with that’s under you is ya business. Plus I know ya youngbuls still gonna move for you down 30th Street.

No doubt, but you really think we could bubble out there Mike? Reese asked.

Nigga the shit like O.T. Let’s get it.

**********

5 MONTHS LATER…

Ring! Ring! Ring

Hello

Yeah somebody just page Reese?

It’s me nigga!

Oh Mike what’s up? I didn’t recognize the number.

This my new house number. How’s shit looking up Frankford?

I should be ready for you a little later this afternoon.

Damn you ran through that quarter key extra fast sheesh. I hollered at Slim this morning when he was shutting down and he did 62 grams on the grave yard shift. Shit going good.

I bet shit is going good. That’s why you ain’t even coming up here like that. Plus ya man Trey got it in, Reese chuckled.

You ain’t never lied. Alright listen, I’ll be up top later to grab that from you. Slim will be up there early to drop off what you need.

Alright bet, Reese said as they hung up.

**********

February 03, 1993

It had been about a year since the boys had been consistently up Frankford. Mike had promoted his man Matic to handle all of his business down North Philly, which freed up some time for him to play up Frankford when he decide to come out.

Mike and Slim sat in the back of Cappy’s Bar. Slim nursed a Tanqueray and Grapefruit on his Snoop Dog shit. He was doggy styled out. Mike had in front of him a drink that bartender let him name Mixturation. It was a mixture of assorted juices similar to a virgin Sex on the Beach, because Mike didn’t drink and was the only person who ordered it. Mike was funny like that sometimes. He would come in the bar with shades on and act like he was drunk while drinking his Mixturation. As he would always say, have the drop of niggas, and to never let the right arm know what the left was doing.

Mike and Slim looked up and noticed Reese walking through the door.

What’s up Fam? Reese said, greeting Mike and Slim.

What’s up homie Slim responded.

Yo, Yo replied Mike.

Slim look at this nigga Reese, every since that little bitch Kia gave him them zannies he’s been tripping every day.

I know right.

Yo y’all what’s the deal? Reese asked as he stumbled trying to sit on the bar stool.

How long y’all been here…? Before either of them could respond Reese continued on.

Kita tripping talking about I don’t spend enough time with my daughter. I told her I’m chasing paper and I get the little girl whatever she wants and needs. Maybe if she lived up here like ya baby mom Slim I could see Monica as much as you see little Rell.

That’s true. Well move her up here. You got money nigga.

I know, I would but I got too many bitches up here. So I’m good.

Slim and Reese had a few more drinks before Mike suggested they all go back to the block. He had some chronic in his car so nobody disagreed. While they were catching a Philly, Mike was rolling up another one, when White Tim walked up. White Tim was a local hustler/ high head that would take a bundle from anyone to maintain his habit. It just so happened that at the time Reese was hitting him off, which was becoming a conflict of interest between Reese and another neighborhood grinder Hak Hustle. Hak didn’t have nearly as much going on as Reese did and he knew it.

What’s up you’s guys? White Tim bellowed out in his baritone voice.

You got that for me? Reese asked.

Yeah here you go bro.

This everything?

Yeah bro I don’t play money games.

What’s the deal Tim? Where you been at? barked Hak Hustle, interrupting White Tim and Reese’s conversation.

I, I, I been in the house. I just came out a couple of minutes ago Bro.

I see you over here fucking with these new niggas.

Reese took offense to Hak calling them new niggas even though they still were fairly new to the neighborhood, but Reese was drunk, zannied and now high off good weed, so of course he jumped the gun.

New nigga? Who the fuck you talking about? Watch ya mouth pussy.

Dog I wasn’t even talking to you. Mind ya business.

Well I’m talking to you I’m making it my business

Reese chill, it’s a better way to handle this, Mike said in a tone low enough for only Reese to hear.

Nigga you betta keep it pushing before this go another way, Reese shouted loudly.

You know what, you got it Fam, Hak said, while backing up.

Just as he was preparing to walk away his pager went off, which he had on vibrated because he had just come from boo loving with his young Bitch. Hak sudden movement towards his pocket caught Mike’s attention, and he thought Hak was reaching. Mike simply reacted pulling and squeezing his Browning 9mm letting off 5 shots tearing Hak Hustle out the frame. At the sound of the shots Tim and Slim took off running. Reese just looked at Mike in his eyes halfway confused as to why he’d just killed Hak. Mike took off in the direction of his car. Reese slowly walked off following Mike. The entire time Ms. Tina had been looking out of her window since the argument had began between Reese and Hak.

A couple of days had gone passed and word in Frankford was Reese had killed Hak over a drug debt.

February 5th, 1993 at 5:00am, the S.W.A.T Team surrounded Reese’s house on 30th Street. Maurice Brown was apprehended for the 2nd degree murder of Hakim Brunner.

I’m Out

Chapter 1

The humming of the cell door being buzzed open at 8:00 am, made Reese hop out of his boat, a bed which lied on the floor of a three man cell.

I gotta get the fuck outer here. This county shit in the way, Reese mumbled to himself as he staggered towards the steel cell door to find out which one out of the trio of men was being summoned by the guard.

Ay Johnson. Fuck you buzz my door for? I ain’t got no visit today.

Discharge, pack up, bellowed C/O Johnson over the intercom.

Without washing his face or brushing his teeth, Reese put on his sneakers, balled up his blanket and sheet, snatched up his mail and was ready to roll. Malik, his cellmate woke up from all the rambling around that Reese was doing.

Insha Allah I see you on the streets my nigga. Here’s my people’s number. Get with me so we can do what we talked about once I touch.

Reese and Malik had grown close during their county bid. Reese had served fifteen years upstate on a murder charge, which he didn’t commit. Kita said he was selfish and stupid for not ratting, but he always told her he was what he was and that’s a stand-up nigga.

Reese came down to the county on writ after making parole, to finish a county bid from 1993. This was a chapter in his life that he was ready to close the books on. Smoker Pooh, Reese’s other cellie, peeked out from under his blanket.

Yo, be safe out there.

Reese left without even responding to him. Smoker Pooh was a waste of life. He was what people called in Philly a real crum.

Fuck outta here. He’ll be back anyway Smoker Pooh mumbled, as he put his head back under the grey, itchy, wool blanket.

After being medically cleared, Reese made his way to receiving. As he walked along side his C/O escort, a million things were running through his mind at once. His adrenaline was pumping like crazy with anticipation. They say there’s a thin line between excitement and fear, as of this moment, he couldn’t tell which one he was feeling.

Reese stepped outside of the prison and inhaled a deep breath of the outside air. Even polluted city air seemed refreshing compared to the stale, recycled air that existed inside the jails. His eyes scanned through all the parked cars that were in the parking lot in search of his right hand man Mike.

Where the fuck this nigga at? he thought growing impatient. This dude always got a mothafucka waiting. His thoughts were broken by a familiar voice calling out his name.

A yo Reese Mike shouted as he smoothly strolled towards Reese. Dressed in a black and red stripped Polo shirt, black Evisu Jeans with a red logo, and a pair of patent leather low top Prada sneakers Mike looked like new money. He was about 5’11", brown skin, with a thick beard, that he never trimmed because he was a proud Muslim. He was husky with a pudgy stomach but always wore his clothing well.

The first sight of Mike gave Reese a bitter sweet feeling. The two had been best friend since childhood and literally did everything together. From sharing bitches to busting guns the two always looked out for one another, so there was no doubt that a mutual brotherly love existed between the two.

Damn nigga I thought I was going to have to hop on the bus to get back to the hood, Reese said as they shook hands.

Naw got kinda caught up. Just hopped out of some good pussy to come get ya nut ass. smirked Mike reaching into his pocket to pull out five stacks and tossed it to Reese like it was nothing.

Damn you getting it like that?

The block poppin' right now, that right there ain’t about shit, you my man. This other pocket got another five stacks for us to go fuck up the mall wit, Mike said tapping on his back pocket. You know I gotta get you right before you show ya face in the hood. It's only right, feel me?

Yeah I feel you my dude.

As Mike counted out money, Reese sat in the passenger seat of the Cranberry, Cadillac STS with an unshakeable nervous feeling in his chest. Glancing back at CFCF from the rear view window he knew that he had to pass Mike up on his offer to go back into the trap. Finished counting Mike cranked up his Ready to Die CD and glanced over in Reese’s direction.

You ready to get this money he said flashing a convincing grin.

Yeah, but Mike I gotta holla at you about something. Reese reluctantly responded.

Alright, what’s the verdict?

**********

Oh shit, yes oh fuck me! yelled Kita while Reese pounded her back out fiercely.

Look at all this cream on my dick already. Now turn around and taste ya self.

Yes daddy, Kita moaned out while she turned and started sucking his dick.

Um um, just like that baby.

Kita was giving him a wet, sloppy dick suck. Slobber and spit dripped down to his balls and then his ass. Kita tried to put all 10 inches that Reese was packing in her mouth, but couldn’t. So she continued to suck on his rock hard cock, gagging occasionally, for about 45 minutes. She slowly took her mouth from around his manhood.

What’s wrong? Why you ain’t nut yet. Is it me?

Naw Ma, I’m just a beast.

He didn’t tell her about the three shots of Hennessey he got from the bar on the way over. Everybody knows that drunk dick is like a nigga popping a Viagra. Sometimes a nigga couldn’t bust if he wanted to.

Good, cause I was starting to think my shot was weak.

Shit you got them oils. Look at the bed sheets it looks like somebody poured a bucket of water on them jawns.

Kita snickered then tears started to fall from her eyes rapidly.

Are you going to leave me again? She asked sobbing.

Boo chill, you drawing, all crying and shit. I already told you I ain’t going nowhere Reese said swiping his fingers across the tears on her face.

That’s what you said the last time. Then you left me for fifteen years.

Why we gotta go through this shit every fuckin' day? snapped Reese

"I’m just tired of being hurt. My heart can’t take no more pain Reese it just can’t. The first couple of months home you were doing good and I was happy, but now you changed. You coming in the house zannied up and drunk, or you just don’t come home at all. You still fuckin'