Even from a distance Tone could tell that there was some illegal drug activity going on. On this block, the alleyway seemed to be the center of attention.
With all the people going to and fro, Tone got the sense something major was happening around here. The block had a certain energy about it that he couldn’t explain. One that he’d only seen in New York on the first and fifteenth of the month. There was money out here, Tone could sense that much.
He sat on the car, continuing to observe when fate intervened.
“Hey,” an older woman said. “You wouldn’t happen to have another one of them cigarettes would you yo? I’ll buy it off you.”
“It’s aiight,” Tone said. “You good. I gotcha!”
Reaching into his pants pockets, Tone retrieved a pack of Newport cigarettes and handed one over.
“You gotta light, New York?” she asked with the cigarette perched between her dark lips.
For the first time Tone took a good look at her. She was not a bad looking woman, but by her frail weight, Tone could see she had seen better days. Her black cornrowed hair had large traces of gray in it. Her eyelids were so heavy they drooped. It appeared as if she hadn’t slept in days. Her forehead was creased with lines etched by years of stress. This woman bore the earmarks of the street life and drug abuse all over her. She was by all accounts a street person.
Tone didn’t immediately discount her presence because of that. Her look would only lend to her credibility. He had the unique ability to treat a person like a person regardless to what condition he found them in. In fact, this woman being a street person was a plus. It only meant that he could relate to her in some form or fashion. She could put him down to what was going on around here.
He sensed that there was a wealth of information inside her. Tone knew he couldn’t just let her leave his presence without picking her brain about the drug game in the area. He knew he had to hold a conversation with her, so he initiated one. Tone cut straight to the chase.
“What’s goin’ on out here?” Tone suddenly said.
The woman remarked, “You already know what it is, New York. If you ain’t in it, you in the way.”
“Word? How can I get some money out here?” Tone asked.
“Easy,” she said. “If you got some good product, I can help you move it. Alotta this shit out here stepped on. It’s garbage. Junkies can’t get high off cut.”
Tone was equal parts hustler and equal parts opportunist. The information he was receiving from her was exactly what he wanted to hear. The wheels in his criminal mind began to turn.
“Take a walk wit’ me,” Tone said as he locked the car doors.
“Where to, New York?” she wondered. Truth be told, she would have followed the stranger to the moon. He was talking her kind of talk.
“To the store,” he told her.
As they walked the short distance to the corner store, Tone and the woman conversed as if they had known each other well. The entire time Tone was just observing his surroundings.
“How you know I’m from New York?” he wondered.
“I could smell you New York niggas a mile away, yo. This ain’t my first rodeo. I done dealt wit’ a few New Yorkers before,” she bragged. “I know y’all muthafuckas. It’s the way y’all walk, the way y’all talk. It’s the accent all y’all have. Y’all just carry yaselves differently, yo.”
Tone joked, “So is that a good or a bad thing?”
“Both,” the woman snapped. “It could be good if you out here just tryin’ to fit in. It could be bad if you comin’ out here tryin’ to show out, yo. You can’t come out here and try to get all the money and fuck all the bitches. That shit right there breeds jealousy. A jealous muthafucka will kill you quicker than a scared muthafucka. It ain’t what you do, New York, it’s how you do it. Trust me I know. I done seen New Yorkers come and I done seen them go. In this game longevity is key.”
The wisdom in her words caught Tone’s ear. He could relate to what she was saying. Intelligence was always attractive to him, no matter where it came from. He yearned to hear more from her.
“Word,” Tone chimed. “You don’t have to worry about me. I ain’t on it like that. I don’t want no trouble, but I damn sure ain’t gone run from none. I’m out here to get this paper first and foremost.”
“That’s good to know, yo,” Shorty assured him. “Because there’s money to be made, you just gotta stay focused.”
They stopped at the corner store where Tone bought both himself and his companion a soda. As they sipped their individual drinks, they continued to walk. Tone made it a point to walk into the direction of the alleyway where he saw all the foot traffic headed. He remained observant as he continued sipping his soda.
“Yo, what’s ya name?” he asked. “I’m been kickin’ it wit’ you and I don’t even know ya name.”
“Shorty,” she answered.
“Fa real? Yo, how you get that name?” he laughed, admiring her small stature.
“You got jokes, huh? How the hell you think? Look at me,” she chuckled. “Now what’s ya name, yo?”
The question caught Tone off guard. He knew better than to give her his real name. “Jason,” he said with a straight face.
Shorty took a long pull on her cigarette, smirking as she blew the smoke out her nose.
“Jason, huh?” she spat. “Yeah right! That ain’t ya damn name. That’s a fuckin’ alias yo. All you New Yorkers are liars.”
Tone couldn’t help himself. He doubled over in laughter.
“It’s Tone,” he admitted, unsure why he had just given her his real name. “But if the police ask its Jason Jones, aiight?”
“Okay, New York Tone,” Shorty teased. “Pleased
