Page 59 of June: When Gangstas Collide

Zaria placed my Cuban link around my neck as I stood in front of the floor-length mirror. My all-black suit with my burnt orange shirt had a nigga feeling clean. Her hand slid down my suit jacket.

“You look so fine!”

she squealed.

“Be nice, hear everyone out, and promise me you will be home tonight.”

I winked at her, “Every muhfuckin night.”

She came around and stood in front of me before stepping on her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around my neck, “You are June Calloway, remember that. I love you. You’re lucky we can’t have sex; otherwise, I would request Chevy.”

I pressed my nose against hers.

“Chevy doesn’t care about making more babies. It’s whatever you want to do.”

“And go through what I did again? Nah nigga you’re shooting in groups. I’m good.”

I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, a’ight. Z, I’m not waiting six weeks to fuck.”

“The fuck you are.”

I kissed her again before grabbing the envelope from the table. I walked over, squatted down to kiss Peace and Savior.

“Daddy loves you little niggas.”

The sound of Samara rushing down the steps, screaming, scared both Zaria and me.

“Girl, your brothers are asleep,”

Zaria told her.

I turned to King, then back to Samara.

“My plants—"

“I know, I know they can hear that shit. I’m sorry but I got in. I got into TSU!”

she squealed.

Zaria cut her eyes at me and I shrugged.

“I’m proud of you, Samara.”

She was so excited that it made me feel good. It was nice to see Clark had thought about someone other than himself. However, if he thought this was a way to reel me in, it wasn’t, and I meant that. I kissed Z one last time before leaving the house. Tonight, I was stepping into FBP alone. With what Dio had done, I needed to talk to Bishop without him.

I hopped in my repaired and repainted Caprice and took off. I let my head bob to the music as I made my way to FBP. My mind was on the man I had become, how I had been taken through so many tests and trials since being unwelcome to the world. I struggled to accept myself fully because I didn’t know the story behind the name. However, it was I who created the story behind the name. I had been Chevy to many, but I was June and tonight that’s who I was coming as. Not Chevy, not Clark, not the king, not the son of Grace or the grandson of the Merciers, not the enemy to Bishop, but simply June fucking Calloway.

When I pulled up, I spotted all the cars outside. I glanced at my watch. I was late. I quickly pulled out my invitation so I could be prepared, and something fell out.

“The fuck?”

It was two pieces of paper neatly folded. I opened it and read it.

To the little Black boy with no name,

I know my words to you mean nothing. I know that there isn’t an excuse I could give to correct my wrongs or my actions. Will I ever understand all that you have been through, navigating the world with an identity that was given to you, not out of love? No. You have been struggling to find who you are and where you came from, so let me tell you.

You came from a family that sees money as power. A family who once had a struggle but lost their way as the grass got greener on the other side. You came from a family that chose a social life over their own child. There aren’t many good things about the Merciers that I can share. However, I can tell you that I am sorry. That I, as your grandmother, am ashamed. In the midst of us treating you as we did, my karma was losing my child, your mother, despite the type of person she was.

I want you to know that, regardless of how your name was chosen, you have built your own foundation on that name. You’ve never had to struggle to figure out who you are because you’ve known all along. With every tear, every lonely night, with every thought of not being loved, know that I do love you.

I’ve watched you at your peak and your weakest moment. You are a King. You are my grandson. You are June Calloway. Now it’s time to start your own legacy and not the one Clark wants for you.

Let me set you free. It’s the least I can do. All you have to do is sign.

Love always, and I mean always.

Cynthia/Granny.

I unfolded the other paper, and it was addressed to me. I thought about not signing because I had already accepted the damage of it all. However, I was doing this for Zaria, Samara, and my boys. I pulled out a pen and signed. I got out of the car and went inside. I had forgiven Cynthia that night at the church, but I hadn’t forgotten what they had done to me, no. Did I want a relationship with her or Clark? Hell no. I had a family and that was the Zoo.

When I entered FBP, I was greeted and immediately taken to the back. Everyone stood when I entered the room. Clark eyed me evilly as Cynthia’s eyes softened when she saw me. Bishop was neutral, and the Laureaux, well, I’m sure I would have to deal with them later. I noticed someone was missing.

“Where is the other guy?” I asked.

Bishop flicked his nose.

“Naheem will no longer be coming to these meetings.”

Clark’s neck damn near broke as his head turned toward Bishop.

“Who said?”

“A dead man can’t speak,”

Bishop told him.

Clark pointed at a guy standing next to Bishop.

“Is that why you brought Ishmael’s son?”

I could see Fiona holding a smirk of enjoyment on her face. Bishop glanced at everyone.

“I’m not sure of the reason for this meeting, but you all said this was for the elites. Which means, James Avery, Naheem Avery, Ishmael Prince, Angela Prince, Grace King, Yassir King, Clark, Cynthia Mercier, and Bobbie and Fiona Laureaux? Right?”

Clark looked defeated. “Right.”

Now it was making sense.

“So this system was built for the rich and gave nothing to the poor. However, we,”

I pointed to Bishop, the guy beside him, and myself.

“Would be next in line and decide what we see fit, meaning we can dismantle this whole thing, or we can keep it going and run it our fucking way, correct?”

Fiona shot up from the table, “You cannot dismantle anything!”

she shouted.

I pointed to her, “You’re right because that would mean Beans, I mean Braylon, would need a seat at this fucking table, and Indigo or Tania would need to be here too. Shit still seems shady to me.”

“I agree,”

Bishop jumped in.

Cynthia cleared her throat as she came around next to me.

“That is correct, as of today, you, Bishop, and Bleek will run the Black Prestige. It has been around for decades,”

she paused.

“The Black Prestige was built as a high society. We created this to have a space for our kind. The objective was to separate the rich from the poor. To network, to invest, to—”

I turned to her, “To own the city. To take from people who had nothing to build something bigger for your greedy needs. What about your community? Those Black people who help put money in your pocket?”

Clark banged his fist on the table before he pointed at me.

“Now wait! This society was built so little niggas like you can have a better life. We did this to open doors for you. To be able to get you out of situations like getting out of jail with no consequence or prisons for murder,”

he turned to Bishop, then back to me.

“Allowing your children to be accepted into elite, prestigious schools. So before you go talking about things we created, you make sure you say the right things.”

Bishop laughed.

“Clark, you sound stupider than a muhfucka.”

“Stupid isn’t the word. Because nigga that shit has nothing to do with me. I didn’t get bailed out of jail by either one of you. My family did that. Samara got into TSU. She earned that spot. You just tried to stop her because it was me whom she was living with. So, yes, nigga, I made you make that shit right. You all want a system for the rich, but never forget the poor is who makes all of you rich,” I added.

I could see Cynthia begin getting nervous. She touched my hand, but I pulled away.

“It’s a high society we created, but you all get to decide how we move forward. Of course, we don’t want it to be done away with, but rather grow into something big. So June, Bishop and Bleek—”

“Wait a minute, goddamnit!”

Clark shouted as he pointed at me.

“He is here and he is not technically—”

“Not technically what, Clark? Huh? I came here tonight to handle real nigga business and here you go on your house nigga bullshit. I accept the offer, “I said as I leaned forward on the table before I slid the paper toward him.

“I, nigga am Grace’s son. You can try to erase me, but you can’t. I am your worst nightmare. Know that. So, Bishop, what’s up? We have a chance to make shit right. We started off wrong and a nigga apologizes, but we have a chance to change the dynamic between the Cove and Lake Hill, between the Blue and Orange.”

He nodded.

“Between Dionysus and Keith,” he said.

I nodded with him. I turned to Cynthia.

“Ok, Granny, what do we have to do?”

Cynthia smiled brightly.

“Well, since Naheem is no longer with us, Bishop, you’re automatically granted a seat. Bleek, it’s with our sincerest apologies for not including you. Now you have gained an automatic seat,”

she paused, turning to me.

“June, we all have to vote you in. So, everyone in this room needs to vote. If you vote, June Calloway into the Black Prestige, say I.”

Bobbie cleared his throat as he glanced at Clark, then Cynthia, “I.”

Fiona rolled her eyes, “My money better stay coming in, I.”

Cynthia turned to me and smiled. “I.”

Clark snarled.

Bitch ass nigga. I mouthed.

“Nay.”

Bleek shrugged.

“I don’t give a damn, I.”

Bishop came around the table and stood in front of me. Eye to eye. Alpha to alpha. Pride to pride and ego to ego. He held out his hand to shake mine. “I.”

I reached out and shook his hand. I glanced at Clark and winked. Cynthia clapped her hands.

“I am so excited to see where you all take this society. I hope that good things come from this. I, Cynthia Mercier, would like to welcome you all to the Black Prestige.”

Clark turned to Cynthia, grilling her.

“What have you done?”

“Something we should have done long ago,”

she said as she walked off and left him standing there.

Fiona came over to me. She sucked her teeth, “I know Braylen hangs with your little crew. My son is no biker.”

“Yes, he is. If you keep acting the way that you do, lady, he will be much like me and turn his back on you.”

Bishop and Bleek stood there while everyone else left the room. I knew Clark wasn’t done with me yet. I was ready for his ass whenever, but tonight I had conquered something. I directed my attention to Bishop, “Keith, how is he?”

Bishop ran his hand over his head, “He’s ight, but his brother is going to be a problem. The nigga just got out of prison. He knows it was Dionysus. I tried to warn that nigga Keith.”

“Dionysus can handle himself. Keith’s brother is the one who needs to be scared. Listen, I’m not saying we need to be best friends and shit, but I am saying we can at least be cordial. It took me a long time to be able to do some shit like this, but I have my wife and kids to think about, so for them I will do whatever.”

Bleek stepped up.

“I respect it. I got kids too, fam.”

Bishop nodded.

“You know I came from a place where my mother was shady and my father never gave a fuck. I walked around here all my life as Bishop Prince, but the entire time, I was an Avery. My twin and I were put against each other. My enemy turned out to be the woman I love. I’ve been through enough. I would have much rather been a nigga without a family than a nigga with a family who didn’t care about him at all. So I respect it and understand why your name is important.”

I nodded. We shook hands one more time before leaving. I walked out of FBP feeling like a king. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the picture of Grace that I had taken from Clark. I glared at it one last time before I ripped it up, leaving it in the parking lot. God’s plan had always been never to meet her, to disconnect who I thought I should be from her, it’s just sad it took this long to realize. With all the things that I thought made me a king, it was merely a thought because what truly made me a king was my muhfuckin name, June.

“Let the church say, amen.”

As I stood behind the pulpit, it reminded me of the day I had to give that sermon. To see all of my friends’ faces, including Chevy and Zaria, was such a blessing. Diamond and Yana sat in the front pew with baby Love. Zu, Sasha, Harvey, Foe, Lakia, and Navanna sat behind them. While Dio, Samara, and all the new guys sat two rows behind.

I pushed my glasses up as I gripped the mic in my hand, “Today is a special day, not just for baby Love but also for someone who lost sight of where God had brought them. This church has history. This church was the staple of this community and to honor its legacy, we have Pastor Black from Saints Baptist Church here to give us a word from God,”

I said as I glanced back at her while she sat behind me.

Sage ran her finger over the piano keys. “Amen,”

she said into the mic.

“Church, help me welcome the daughter of Reverend Elijah Black. Pastor Sandra Black,”

I said as she stood, and I handed her the mic.

She clung onto that brown and gold handkerchief as she stepped forward.

“My God. It’s been years since I’ve stood up here. My daddy would always say Let God use you. Mm. My daddy. The man God used as a vessel to serve his community.”

She shook her head.

Diamond waved his hand.

“Let him use you then, pastor!”

“I don’t want to take up too much time because we know there is a baby who needs to be blessed. I’m going to keep it short, church. I want to say God is faithful. We should be thankful. First Thessalonians 5:18. The Bible says Give thanks in all circumstances. It doesn’t matter what you go through. For each trial, church, it doesn’t matter,”

she waved.

The drummer spun the high-hat.

“Be thankful, be faithful because I can assure you God knows the outcome, but it’s how you!”

she shouted.

“Navigate through. Be thankful for the small wins, for those baby steps you’ve taken, for every tear to get you through, for every mistake that has made you better, for the struggle, be thankful, and I promise, church, he will be faithful. Amen?”

I nodded.

“Amen,” I said.

Diamond stood, shook his head, and held up his hand. Diamond fronted a lot, but that nigga had God in his heart. He loved church. He dropped his head forward, then clapped. His head shot up.

“I’m thankful, Lord. I’m thankful.”

Pastor Black turned to me to hand me back the mic as Sage let her fingers create a gospel tune. Sandra pulled me in for a hug.

“Thank you. I am thankful. You treat my baby like you’re supposed to,”

she whispered in my ear.

Diamond walked toward the pulpit.

“Let me get the mic,”

he whispered.

“No,”

I gritted.

Giving the mic to him, we would be here all night. He leaned in, “Nigga give me the mic,”

he gritted back.

I slowly eased him the mic and he snatched it out of my hand and took off singing on top of Sage’s piano keys.

“I thank you, Loorrdd, I thank you Lord. Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

That’s when Sage came in, harmonizing with him.

“Thank you, Lord, I thank you for every little bitty thing you've done in my life.”

Then Diamond, “Ooo, thank you, aaa-eee-iiii.”

They sounded really good together, but I knew I needed to stop Diamond, so I reached down as soon as his body leaned back to croon, I snatched the mic.

“Amen, brother Diamond.”

He looked at me, “Nigga what the—”

“I said Amen!”

I shouted as I looked at him.

We began the process of christening Love. Chevy and Harvey came up as I welcomed them as the Godparents. Love was so precious. When she opened her eyes, they were becoming lighter. I knew she was going to have eyes like Diamond, and in the upcoming years, he would be fighting niggas off for her. I glanced up at him to see that he was bawling like a baby.

“My daughter, my world, my life, my blood, Daddy loves you, Love Blanco,”

he said as he held her close to his face and kissed her.

Yana hugged Diamond as her face nestled on the side of Love’s, “Mommy loves you, Love Blanco. You are our blessing. We welcome you with all our love.”

I could see Chevy’s jaw tighten. He turned to look at Zaria, who held one baby in her arms while the other sat in a car seat in front of her. My niggas had families now, and that alone showed me how much we’ve grown. I couldn’t ask for better friends, hell, a better family than the Zoo.