“Chill with all that, nigga. We at a park with a million innocent people,” Heavy said.
“You right, cuz. If you weren’t here, shit would’ve gotten ugly. Just letting that nigga and whoever know I ain’t hiding.”
Heavy shook his head, realizing just how far removed he was from the street shit. Not by much but enough to know shooting up a park, behind what was ultimately someone’s baby mama, was insane behavior. Though he’d been away, word still got back to him in some fashion about what was happening in the streets.
A fight broke out in the club between Dre and Los after his baby mama got a little too comfortable in Dre’s face. Dre had been in and out of her crib for the past few weeks. Words got exchanged, and fists were thrown right after. Things had escalated on another occasion, but nothing ever really popped off. It would have today if Heavy hadn’t been there to step in. Dre wasn’t fond of a nigga talking slick without standing on it.
“I feel you. You just keep yo’ head on a swivel. Niggas don’t play about their baby mamas,” Heavy jested but meant what he said.
“Man, it ain’t even about the hoe. It’s the principle. I hear you, though. You bouta shake?”
“Yeah. Bouta link up with Mama Dot. She’s supposed to be running some ideas by me for the community center and shit,” Heavy replied.
“That’s a good look. She be having that pantry jumping like a mothafucka.”
Well-known and loved in her community and city, Mama Dot, owner of Mama Dot’s, a pantry and kitchen for the less fortunate, was the perfect person Heavy needed to be in contact with. He had no clue where to start or how to fulfill his grandpa’s wishes, and she was willing to lend a helping hand and a listening ear. The latter being what she knew he may have needed the most.
“Mr. G really left you a whole building.” Dre laughed as they slapped hands.
“And a bunch of other shit I’m trying to figure out.”
Dre pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket. “We gon’ figure that shit out, bro. Don’t even trip. I told you, I’m on whatever you on. Just not ready to give it all up yet.” He grinned, telling whoever had called to hold on.
“And that’s coo’. Just know when I am, all this shit is yours.”
Dre may have been Heavy’s right-hand man, but there wasn’t anything subservient about him. Just as loudly as Heavy’s name rang bells, so did Dre’s. His more now than ever since Heavy had been off the grid, and that’s how he wanted to keep it. Though his perspective had shifted, the way people looked at him hadn’t.
He still received the same respect—if not more—and the same unspoken understanding of who he was and what he was capable of. Maybe some ‘shit’ changingwasfor the better.
1 MonthLater
“What did I tell you? You had nothing to be worried about.”
Heavy turned at the sound of Mama Dot’s soothing voice. He gave her a small smile, clearing his throat to gather himself.
“Just shocked to see everything come together like this,” Heavy admitted.
His gaze drifted back across the gym, and for a moment, he just stood there taking it all in. The place was packed. More than a few familiar faces were in the crowd, while folks he’d never seen before were sprinkled throughout.
The bleachers were filled, while people lined the walls, and kids ran back and forth with smiles. Sneakers squeaked against the court as games rotated in and out. The deejay kept the crowd hype with music flowing through the speakers, and with random commentary and jokes about the basketball games. Blends of laughter, conversations, and the sharp whistle of a ref trying to keep control of the game, brought back so many memories and thoughts of what the future could look like.
Heavy’s heart filled with an emotion he hadn’t experienced in months. Pride had settled in, pushing past the grief that had been consuming him since he got out. For once, he felt like he’d done something right.
“I’m not,” Mama Dot said, following his line of sight. “You put out good into the world, and it finds a way to make it back to you. It always does.”
Heavy didn’t think he’d contributedthatmuch good to the world, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“People loved your grandfather,” Mama Dot added. “And they love you just the same. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Heavy’s jaw slightly shifted.
On any other day, he probably would’ve brushed off those words coming from anybody else. He would’ve nodded and let them roll off his back like they were something that sounded nice but didn’t quite fit who he was. Today was different, though.Today, the proof was right in his face. With Mama Dot’s help, both of their connections, and word of mouth, the place was full.
Heavy knew the city would show up, that much he expected, but this was something different. The parking lot had been full before the first game even tipped off, with cars lined up and down the street like it was the club. Vendors filled the outside, while smoke from grills curled into the air. People were posted up everywhere, some with plates in their hands, mingling like this was the only place to be.
Inside, it was even bigger. Tables lined the walls with organizations passing out information for housing, job resources, health services, and more. Barbers had clippers buzzing, ensuring their lines were crisp, and hairstylists worked just as fast, braiding and twisting, while taking instructions from parents standing close by with eyes that looked a bit lighter today.
That’s what Heavy wanted; people to enjoy themselves and forget about the stressors waiting outside these walls.Mama Dot and a few other helpers had the kitchen under control, like always. Heavy slightly, shook his head, the disbelief lifting off him. He started this thinking it was just going to be a basketball tournament. Something simple to raise a little money and bring people together for a day, but Mama Dot had other plans. She stepped in and turned it into something much grander. It was bigger than a few hoop sessions and the pain that started it.
