the more alarmed I had gotten. I mean, there had to be at least ten pounds of weed in this vehicle. The thought of me being in possession of it made me a little upset. Why the fuck he couldn’t get Keisha’s dumb ass to transport this shit? Am I more dispensable than her? Okay, granted, I was a ’hood chick and I didn’t have a lot to lose, but I was still somebody and he needed to recognize that.
Before we reached our location, Bishop called me on my cell phone and gave me final instructions. I pressed the speakerphone button so Sean could hear it as well.
“We’re getting ready to pull up to a brown, brick two-story house on the right side, so I want you to pull up into the driveway and park the truck as close as you can to the back of the house. And when you’re done, take the keys to the back door of the house and ask for a dude named Manuel. When he comes to the door, he’s going to hand you a black bag and after he does that, hand him the keys to the car and tell him that it’s in the glove compartment and then you come back and get in the car.”
“What would you want me to do if the guy Manuel isn't there?”
“Don't worry, he's there,” Bishop assured me.
To confirm the instructions Bishop gave me, I repeated them back to him. “So all I have to do is drive the truck into the driveway and get as close to the back door as I can and then knock on the door and ask for Manuel?”
“Yup. But make sure he gives you the black bag before you hand him the keys to the truck.”
“I got that part.”
“Okay, well, do your thing. So we can get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that.”
Even though the instructions Bishop gave me were quite simple, there was still a harsh reality that something could go wrong. Any time you are dealing with dope, whether it was marijuana, coke or heroin, things didn’t always go as planned. Look at how Bria got caught up in one of her deliveries. The Feds jammed her up, made her turn against her brother and now she's probably dead with her remains thrown in one of these neighborhood dumpsters. What a terrible way to have your life come to a screeching halt.
In a matter of two and a half minutes, I had parked the rental truck at the end of the driveway and was at the back door knocking and waiting for this Manuel character to make the exchange.
When the door finally opened, a Puerto Rican looking cat appeared before me. He was average height, around five eight or nine, sporting a white tee, a pair of blue denim jeans and a pair of brown Timberland boots. While I was checking him out, he was checking me out as well.
“Are you Manuel?”
“That depends,” he smiled. “Who are you?” he turned the question around on me.
“No disrespect, sweetie. But I was told to drop off that truck in your driveway and wait for Manuel to give me a black bag, now if you ain’t Manuel, then will you tell him that someone is at the door waiting for him?”
He smiled. “Don't get bent out of shape, mommie! I’m Manuel,” he said and then he picked up a black bag from the floor behind the back door and handed it to me. “Here you go.”
Once I had the bag in my hand, I handed him the keys to the rental truck. “This is for you, it’s in the glove compartment,” ensuring I delivered the message Bishop wanted me to, and then I turned to leave.
“Hey, where is my girl, Bria? She’s the one who normally run this route,” he replied.
“I don't know,” I told him and kept walking back towards the front of the house where Bishop was parked.
Half way to the car where Bishop was, I couldn't help but notice how heavy the black bag was. When I rubbed my hand across the side of it, I knew I was carrying a lot of cash. I couldn't tell you how much it was, but it was a lot. And that’s all I needed to know.
As soon as I got back into the car with Bishop, he immediately grabbed the bag from me and stuffed it underneath the driver seat and then he drove off.
I was so excited about
Before we reached our location, Bishop called me on my cell phone and gave me final instructions. I pressed the speakerphone button so Sean could hear it as well.
“We’re getting ready to pull up to a brown, brick two-story house on the right side, so I want you to pull up into the driveway and park the truck as close as you can to the back of the house. And when you’re done, take the keys to the back door of the house and ask for a dude named Manuel. When he comes to the door, he’s going to hand you a black bag and after he does that, hand him the keys to the car and tell him that it’s in the glove compartment and then you come back and get in the car.”
“What would you want me to do if the guy Manuel isn't there?”
“Don't worry, he's there,” Bishop assured me.
To confirm the instructions Bishop gave me, I repeated them back to him. “So all I have to do is drive the truck into the driveway and get as close to the back door as I can and then knock on the door and ask for Manuel?”
“Yup. But make sure he gives you the black bag before you hand him the keys to the truck.”
“I got that part.”
“Okay, well, do your thing. So we can get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that.”
Even though the instructions Bishop gave me were quite simple, there was still a harsh reality that something could go wrong. Any time you are dealing with dope, whether it was marijuana, coke or heroin, things didn’t always go as planned. Look at how Bria got caught up in one of her deliveries. The Feds jammed her up, made her turn against her brother and now she's probably dead with her remains thrown in one of these neighborhood dumpsters. What a terrible way to have your life come to a screeching halt.
In a matter of two and a half minutes, I had parked the rental truck at the end of the driveway and was at the back door knocking and waiting for this Manuel character to make the exchange.
When the door finally opened, a Puerto Rican looking cat appeared before me. He was average height, around five eight or nine, sporting a white tee, a pair of blue denim jeans and a pair of brown Timberland boots. While I was checking him out, he was checking me out as well.
“Are you Manuel?”
“That depends,” he smiled. “Who are you?” he turned the question around on me.
“No disrespect, sweetie. But I was told to drop off that truck in your driveway and wait for Manuel to give me a black bag, now if you ain’t Manuel, then will you tell him that someone is at the door waiting for him?”
He smiled. “Don't get bent out of shape, mommie! I’m Manuel,” he said and then he picked up a black bag from the floor behind the back door and handed it to me. “Here you go.”
Once I had the bag in my hand, I handed him the keys to the rental truck. “This is for you, it’s in the glove compartment,” ensuring I delivered the message Bishop wanted me to, and then I turned to leave.
“Hey, where is my girl, Bria? She’s the one who normally run this route,” he replied.
“I don't know,” I told him and kept walking back towards the front of the house where Bishop was parked.
Half way to the car where Bishop was, I couldn't help but notice how heavy the black bag was. When I rubbed my hand across the side of it, I knew I was carrying a lot of cash. I couldn't tell you how much it was, but it was a lot. And that’s all I needed to know.
As soon as I got back into the car with Bishop, he immediately grabbed the bag from me and stuffed it underneath the driver seat and then he drove off.
I was so excited about
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