Page 37 of Stay Dangerous

Lem worshipped the ground the nigga walked on, since the OGs did the same. Which meant that Kilo and Remy couldn’t stand him. Not that he gave a fuck.

Peanut raised his arm immediately and aimed at us, before grinning. “My niggas. You know Turkey.”

He didn’t lower his gun until we got to the table that Turkey was sitting at. Peanut got Turkey put on right after he came back to the Birch, and he and my neighbor lil’ Sean were the last ones added to Set’s crew. We were solid now, Tiny’s highest earning crew, and niggas twice our age were scared of us.

But Turkey didn’t come around too often, only on the weekends. So seeing him on a weeknight, sitting at a table full of rifles and guns, was interesting to say the least.

“What’s all this?” Fredo asked.

Peanut folded his arms. “You ever wonder what Set be doing when he disappear to Turkey house on the weekends?”

“Nah,” I gritted, tired of hearing of this nigga.

Peanut glossed over my attitude, which meant this nigga was too excited to give a fuck, since any other time, he would jump to his cousin’s rescue.

“Well, he and Turkey here be doing like CIA-level shit. Do the trick, Turkey.”

Turkey smirked as he pulled on a piece of his dreaded fro. “Aight. So we got a AR, a AK, and two Heckler and Koch four-seventeens on the table. Y’all got a phone to time me? I’m tryna beat Set’s score.”

That nigga seemed like a straight nerd. Me and Fredo knew who he was, because of MyRoom and that one time he called Set frantic about beating up a nigga perpetrating, that ended up being Ty-Ty. Now, Ty-Ty was abnormally tall for his age, and he did learn from the best on how to knock a nigga down, but needing three extra niggas to jump him put him in the lame category for me.

He held his own when he got put on the week before, though, but I still saw the bruise I left on his face in the harsh overhead light.

Fredo, always one to be entertained, took out his phone and opened the clock app.

“Ready? Go.”

This nigga Turkey moved over the pieces of guns that might as well had been puzzle pieces to him. Little by little, the makings of four big ass rifles started to take shape, and in a little over a minute and a half, he’d assembled all four of them.

“Damn,” I whispered, as Peanut clapped loudly and Turkey blew imaginary dust off his hands.

“That nigga a beast! And that’s how we finna be,” Peanut cheesed. “Everything G-Pops teach me, I’m teaching y’all. Starting with this shit.”

“This some next level shit, P,” Fredo marveled, grabbing one of the rifles.

“Lem is serious about getting them slob niggas outta here, and we gon’ need more than glocks and more than Set’s uzis. We need that real deal Holyfield shit. I’m not letting them call Set every time they need to run a blitz. All my niggas gon’ be war-ready, starting with y’all.”

“Riddle me this, Nutty Boy,” Fredo replied, putting down the rifle. “Where we gon’ practice with this heavy artillery? We can’t exactly be shooting in the back of the parking lot.”

“My G-Pops finally gave me the codes to his cabin, so we can practice there when he’s OT. For now, though, assembling and disassembling firearms is what you need to know. Shooting comes later.”

“Niggas around the city got access to guns, but don’t know shit but to shoot–not even aiming. Don’t even be cleaning them muthafuckas, and be wondering why they jam. Don’t even know the difference between a Mac-11 and an Uzi. I got the okay from Big X and Lucci to train y’all up, since Lem is dead serious about bullying them niggas out they shit.”

“Niggas been in the Birch a hot minute and already calling the shots,” Fredo said, making us all chuckle.

“And y’all gon’ be right there with me.”

“Have a seat, twins,” Turkey said, doing some grand gesture that had me remembering the nigga was a square. Fredo chuckled again, but we took the other seats on the other side of the table, while Peanut sat next to him.

For the next two hours, Turkey explained in detail each gun, the ammo they used, and different specs like kickback, reload, and how hard they would be to get on the street. Turkey’s granddad worked for the government, so it was easier for him, but Peanut assured us there were other ways to get these guns into our hands.

And onlyours.

He didn’t trust anyone. I knew that already, but I didn’t realize how much he only trusted Set’s crew until that night. He was adamant about the other Babies not knowing shit about what was going on, and included Tiny in that, too. This was supposed to be all us, and that sounded hella appealing to me.

Fredo had been spending more time with Pooh for whatever reason, but when he’d get back, he’d tell me all about how paranoid he was. He hadn’t been to the Birch in over a year, not even to see Ma. They still talked on the phone daily, and Nan went to see him, but he was nowhere near the hood.

Lem would ask me if I was cool with Pooh, but I kept all irrelevant communication to a minimum with them niggas. Sometimes, they’d pull me away from the crew to run a skit, and then when Set would hear about it, acted like I was running rogue. Tiny would sometimes pull me to run with her, coming to the trap to announce it and look right at Set to catch his jaw clenching and shit.