"Mama, Dont!"

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“Mama, Don’t!”

                   “I’m Detective Warner Robbins, with the Atlanta Police Department…may we have a word with you, Jacoby?”

                   WHAT THE FUCK?!?

                   This stout, tall ass dude in a suit, with a hat on, standin beside a po-po- right at my front muthafuckin door. I kinda looked back to my apartment, then back to the detective. “Um, I’m kinda a lil late for my appointment with my probation officer…can I get wit yall later?”

                   “This won’t take too long, Jacoby. We just need to talk with you…about Gabriel Jenkins. As you do know, Gabriel’s body was found yesterday…your mother and his mother said the two of you used to be good friends at one time,” said the detective.

                   I wanted to put as much distance between me and the po-pos as possible, especially concerning this mess, but I didn’t wanna make myself look suspicious. I opened the door, letting them into my used to be “po-po free” sanctum. I closed the door and mustered up the energy to play host. “Would yall like a drink of water? I haven’t been to the grocery store yet,”

                   Teja came from her resting place, bein nosy about the “new guests”, then went back to her bed. The officer looked to her, then to me. “Nice dog…boxer?”

                   “Yeah,” I said. “She was a gift from my dad…he passed away about a couple years ago,”

                   “Okay Jacoby…we know about your probation, and that you sell out here on the streets,” said Detective Robbins. “We know that Gabriel was sellin”-

                   “Sold,”

                   “What…?”

                   “I used to sell…I don’t do it anymore- I stopped. I don’t wanna go to jail again,” I said. “I’m trynna clean my image up- I got a job, go to school…”

                   “Congratulations,” said the detective. “I wish Gabriel could’ve had an opportunity to straighten his life like you had. Unfortunately, his choice was taken away from him,”

                   That’s usually what happens, man…when you choose to snitch out the people who you grew up with, I thought. I looked at my clock. “So what kind of questions did you have about Gabe? I gotta make it to my P.O. before she take her fat ass to lunch for about three years,”

                   “When was the last time you saw Gabriel?”

                   “Maybe a week or so before I got locked up,” I answered, tryin to remember. “When I got out, I hooked it up with my boys on the weekend, then I went to my moms Sunday, and was trynna get me a job and errythang throughout the week,”

                   “Would you know, who would wanna kill Gabriel? Word on the street was, he was a very likeable person…he got along with everybody,” said the officer.

                   I chuckled a little. “What, would any of you two know about the ‘word on the street’? If that was the actual word, per se- then why did Gabe get killed? Coz some fuckin bastard wanted him dead! When I saw the news report, it made me sick…I knew that boy a long time- whatever he had done wasn’t that bad for someone to do whatever they did to him! I hope yall find the fuckin cocksuckers who did this!”

HAM (Hard As a Muthaf**ka)Where stories live. Discover now