Honor Thy Thug

23




KAYLIN

I had taken Kyron’s car to the chop shop where Bo was waiting on me. Once his body was discovered, all hell broke loose. Mari was the first to call me, and as soon as she could, she went over to my mother’s house. Then, of course, Kendra and Kendrick were next, making a special trip, rushing over to my spot to interrogate me. My mother then sent a message for me to come over to see her as soon as possible. The three of us headed over there together.

Kendra, Kendrick, and I were in my mother’s basement, and of course, all fingers were pointing at Trae. “Trae is locked up, so it couldn’t have been him.” I told them. I looked over at the twins, wearing my game face.

“That don’t mean shit.” Kendra’s ass snapped, interrupting the thoughts of Kyron’s and my last minutes together. My brother talked shit right up to his last breath.

“He’s locked up, dummy! And as far as we know, Mari could have done it. Y’all sleeping on her; she knew about him and Tasha and all about that Vegas stunt.”

“What Vegas stunt?” Kendra asked.

“Nah, Mari wouldn’t have done that,” Kendrick interrupted.

“What Vegas stunt?” Kendra wanted to know.

“Oh, this nigga didn’t tell you?” I pointed over at Kendrick. I had his ass now. Kendra thought that her twin brother’s shit didn’t stink. “They all went to Vegas, including Mari, and Kyron gets with Tasha, drugs and rapes her. He ends up catching a case. A rape case.”

“He what?” She looked at Kendrick with disgust.

“It wasn’t like that,” Kendrick lied.

“Yes, it was, Kendrick and you was in on that shit.” I said. “But I’m through talking about it. Let yourselves out. I gotta go talk to my moms.” I got up and left them sitting on the couch.

The only person who knew that I did the deed was Bo. He was Trae’s first cousin and had come up with us, hustled and warred with us and I trusted him with my life. If anyone suspected it, that’s all they had. I knew my secret would never leave his lips.

I went upstairs to see my moms. She was in the living room talking with the funeral director. She told me that she wanted to get it over as soon as possible, but I told her I was on top of that.

“Ma, I told you I would take care of everything.”

She gave me the stay in a child’s place, shut up, I have company look. “Excuse me, Mr. Holcomb. Then she turned to me and said, “This is Mr. Holcomb of Holcomb’s Funeral Home. He was just leaving. But Mr. Holcomb, you remember my youngest son, Kaylin.”

Mr. Holcomb stood up; he resembled George Jefferson. He may not have remembered me, but I remembered him. My father took my brother and me to his funeral home on several occasions. Mr. Holcomb would sit us down in his office and give us some ice cream, and my father and he would go to the next room and conduct business. My dad ran the streets and died in the streets.

“I do, Mama Santos.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “You might not remember me, but your daddy and I go way back. He used to bring you and your brother to the other funeral home over on 129th. I’ma make sure we have a good homecoming for your brother. I owe it to your father and your mother. Your brother, he’s in these hands, which means good hands.” He held both hands out, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Mr. Holcomb.” I showed him to the door. “Has my mother paid you for your services yet?”

“Nooo! Your mother’s money is no good with me. If I took money from your mother, your daddy would turn over in his grave.”

“Give me your card,” I told him. He went inside his vest pocket and came out with a business card.

“Call me anytime. I’m available around the clock.”

“I appreciate it.” I showed him out and went back inside to talk to my mother. She was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

“Ma, a free funeral? You know all he is going to do is throw that shit together. Is that what you want? I told you I would handle it.”

“And you can. You can pick out everything except for his suit. I already let Mr. Holcomb know. Now, sit down. That girl Mari was by here.” She let out a sigh. I braced myself. “She said that Kyron raped Trae’s wife. Kay, tell me why on earth would that girl say such a thing? What is the matter with her?”

“Ma, she’s just angry with him, that’s all.”

“Who did this to your brother?”

“Mom, I wish I could tell you that. Kyron was not himself when he came home. He was stirring up a lot of trouble, making lots of enemies. It could have been anybody.”

“You wish you could tell me? What does that mean? You know, but you can’t tell me, or you don’t know?”

“Mom, stop it.”

“Well, tell me this. Do you think Trae did it because he wasn’t able to finish him off at the hospital? And don’t lie to me.”

Damn. I had to choose my words and the way I said them carefully. “No, Mom. Trae wasn’t trying to kill him; he wanted to scare him. He has enough trouble of his own. I’ve been meaning to tell you, he’s in jail for two murders out there in California. So trust me when I tell you, he has his hands full. He doesn’t even have a bond.”

“Oh, my God!” She put the lid on the pot and grabbed her heart. “You boys . . . it seems like it’s all catching up to you. I feared that it would happen like this. I honestly believed that I would never have to bury any of my three children. But I’m getting ready to bury my firstborn.”

She grabbed a seat at the kitchen table, said a prayer, and then began to cry.


ANGEL

Kaylin had been running around with Mama Santos, getting everything together for Kyron’s funeral. I saw it in him. He was numb throughout the whole thing, just going through the motions. He didn’t even want to talk about it, which only made me think that he had something to do with his own brother’s murder. I saw it in his demeanor.

The funeral was small and personal, with not more than twenty people. Nothing elaborate, and I was wondering where Kyron’s friends were. Hell, he obviously didn’t have any, because the few of us who were there were close family members. The twins, his sister Tamara, Mama Santos, Mari, her parents, and a gentleman who looked just like her. I was assuming that it was her brother.

The music coming from the organist was the only thing that was easing the tension and coldness in the air. Mama Santos had the pastor of her church, Reverend Mateo, deliver the eulogy. A few members from the church came out to pay their respects.

Kyron lay up there with a smirk on his face, wearing a pink silk tie and and gray pin-striped Armani suit. Mari stood over the gaudy burgundy casket with the gentlemen who could be her brother. The only people I saw shed a tear were her, Kendra, and Tamara. Hell, I only saw two flower arrangements. What a way to be sent home. No love at all.

• • •

After the funeral, I put in a day and a half at the office and then headed out to Cali. I needed some sunshine and a change of atmosphere. When I walked into the house, I was in for a big surprise. There sat all of my girls: Kyra, Tasha, and Jaz.

“Well, well, well!” I said as I set my luggage down. They all got up, and we engaged in a group hug.

“We honestly have to stop meeting like this,” I told them.

“Meeting like what?” Kyra asked.

“Y’all know that lately ain’t nothing going down in our lives but drama. Let’s keep it real, now. And we can start with my drama.” I kicked off my shoes, and everybody around me moaned and groaned. “What y’all trying to say? Y’all don’t think I got drama?” I stood in the middle of the floor, with my hands on my hips. “We just buried Kyron.”

“Girl, please. That ain’t no drama. That’s cause for celebration. Nobody cares about his crazy ass!” Jaz said as she brought the glass of wine to her mouth.

I looked over at Tasha, and she had a blank look on her face. “I agree. You need to do better than that,” she said.

“Do you know that Kyron sent his goons after Kaylin? They took us to a graveyard way out in North Jersey somewhere, tossed us in it, and tried to bury us alive!”

“What?” There were gasps from everybody. All eyes were on me. I told them bitches I had drama.

“Umm-hmmm. If it wasn’t for Lil’ E being in that garage when they ran up on us, I would not be standing here right now. Y’all would be burying Kaylin and me, that is, if you would have found our bodies.”

“You mean to say Kyron would do that to his own brother and his sister-in-law?” Tasha was obviously into her feelings. “That’s low-down. But you can best believe that I am personally glad that the nigga is dead. If it wasn’t for my respect for Mama Santos I would have went to the funeral and spit on his ass. I hate him!”

“I feel you. He did it. He tried to have us killed. Now that was a moment.”

“That’s f*cked up!” Kyra said.

“Why does he hate his brother and Trae so much?” Tasha asked me.

“I don’t know. Kaylin won’t talk to me about it. But from the little bit I gathered from his sister Tamara, it was jealousy. Simple as that.”

I looked around the room at everyone’s face. We were all perplexed. Each one of us caught up in the thoughts of the many tragedies that had fallen into our lives. We had loved and lost. Everything we said we would not be we had become. The mood was becoming gloomier by the second. I walked over and plopped down next to Kyra. I needed the mood in the room to lighten up. That’s why I was here. I needed to spread some good cheer.

“Look at your stomach, Kyra! You are glowing,” I told her.

“Yes, I am very much pregnant. Thirteen weeks, to be exact.” She smiled and rubbed her stomach.

“You look happy. Are you happy?” I wanted to know.

“Actually, I am.”

I turned my attention to Jaz. “So, Ms. Thing, how are you and Faheem making out?”

“I might be moving back to Jersey,” she announced. “I’m looking at the medical school at Robert Wood Johnson. Georgia is history. We are just about done packing. I’ve been trying to tell Faheem that he is overreacting and that we don’t have to move, but he won’t listen to me.”

“Shit, the hell he is overreacting! You sleep on niggas if you want to. Trust me, I know. You see what just happened to us, and that was flesh and blood seeking to hurt us. So imagine what someone outside of family will do,” I told her.

Our attention turned to the front door. Someone was banging hard. We all rushed to see who was banging as if they were the Po Po. When we got to the front door, we saw that’s exactly who it was, the Po Po. I opened the door.

“Oh, shit,” Jaz mumbled. “What done happened now?”

“Mrs. Tasha Macklin?”

“Yes? How can I help you?”

My name is Detective Clyde Allen. I’m with the L.A. County Police Department. Do you have a relative named Trina—”

“Yes, I do,” she cut him off.

“Are you next of kin?”

“That’s my sister, why?” Tasha grabbed her chest.

“We need you to come identify the body.”

“Identify what? Why? What happened?” I could see her other hand begin to shake.

“Can you come with us now?” Mr. Allen asked her.

Tasha turned around and looked at all of us. Her eyes were tearing up fast, and her whole body was shaking. Even though we heard what they just said, she announced it again with her voice trembling. “It’s Trina. Oh, God! They want me to identify her—” She started to say something, but then she fainted, sliding down the wall. We all rushed to her side.

The detective stood there, looking in through the screen door. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered. Kyra had already rushed off to get a damp towel, and Jaz went for her cell phone. “I’m her attorney. Can you give me your card, and we’ll get to the coroner’s office as soon as we can? It’s obvious that we can’t leave right now.”

He looked at me and then looked at Tasha. He went into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Call me when you are on your way so I can meet you there. It doesn’t matter what time it is. I’m hoping that Mrs. Macklin can answer a few questions.”

“I will, and thank you for understanding.”

After about a half hour, Tasha was okay and all riled up. She said later for the morgue. She wanted to go by Trina’s apartment to do some investigating first. Kyra volunteered to stay home with the kids, and the rest of us piled into the truck and drove over to Trina’s. When we arrived, it did appear that the neighborhood had had some excitement. The truck came to a stop, and Tasha dashed out. I was right on her heels.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” she said to a young white girl who was carrying a skateboard. “What happened around here?”

“Tragedy. I never saw anything like it. They literally set the girl on fire. She was running through the parking lot, screaming and hollering. Here, look.” She pulled out her iPhone, and we formed a circle around her, stretching our necks trying to get a good look.

I’ll be damned if she hadn’t caught some of the incident on her phone. She must have been upstairs, because the image was far away and aimed downward. And it was Trina. I could tell by her voice. The top part of her body was covered in flames. She was running and releasing blood-curdling screams. We all gasped. Tasha choked up and started crying.

You talking about karma? That was all that I could think about as I noticed that not one person tried to do anything to help Trina. People were running away, and some were just standing there, looking on in awe. Damn, that white chick wasn’t the only one recording. I saw several phones raised up, obviously recording. This was going to be a hit on YouTube. Poor Trina kept burning until the fire department and an ambulance showed up.

“This will go viral, watch!” the white chick said.

The next thing we knew, Tasha had snatched the phone out of her hands, slammed it onto the ground, and started stomping on it.

“Hey! Hey!” The girl grabbed Tasha by her hair. “That’s my phone!” Then the poor girl was getting her ass whipped and didn’t know why.

“That’s my sister!” Tasha was screaming, crying out and kicking the girl. “My sister!”

“How was I supposed to know? That’s my phone! I’ma sue your ass!” she yelled from the ground. Her skateboard was rolling away.

Tasha was shaking uncontrollably. We had to drag her to the truck and get out of there before the police came and charged us with assault. “They didn’t have to do that! They didn’t have to do her like that!” Tasha cried out.

Damn, this appeared to be the year of death for us. Death was all around us. And they say it comes in threes. I didn’t see it stopping as I wondered who could have done this to Trina.