CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
2000- The Proposal
And then the moment of truth was upon us.
Time to get down to it.
I felt like this was my big moment. I was finally gonna get something to do. And for some reason, the fact that it was gonna come, at least in part, from Hopeton, reassured me. I used to think it was Biz who was going to be the one to put me on, but now I could see how far off-base I’d been. Hopeton was an adult. And this was obviously grown-folks business.
We all made our way back to the desk- this time Hopeton sat in the swivel chair and Cabrón and I sat next to each other across from him. I glanced at ‘Brón out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting up and looking straight ahead. In high alert mode. Speaking of high, I wondered if ‘Brón smoked weed on his off hours.
“Cabrón and I are going to get some business out of the way first and then we’ll talk with you about some things we have going on,” Hopeton explained to me.
Then it was 15 minutes en Español again. My cross-cultural disorientation wasn’t as strong as it had been on New Year’s but there was no denying I was at a disadvantage in this room. Guess it was time to learn some Spanish beyond “Tienes un baño?”
This time I caught the words “Brownsville,” “Biz,” “HQ” and “nunca más.” It was obvious they were talking about some serious shit, but there was no barking. Neither was trying to flex on the other. I could tell they were just trying to work through some complicated issues. I was curious as to what was going down with the HQ. Biz and Luciano were so rarely there anymore, now that they’d co-opted my crib. I wondered if they even realized they were under scrutiny from the higher ups. Probably not.
“Por lo menos eso lo tenemos cubierto,” Hopeton said to Cabrón, then he directed his attention to me.
“So, Eula,” he began. Hmmmm, he knew my name this whole time. Duly noted. “I spoke with Mundo and he said you might be interested in working on some things for us.”
I nodded, stone faced. I really could have done with an ice-cold Heineken right about this point in the visit. I wondered why Hopeton didn’t offer me one this time out. Focus, Eula. Focus.
“This has to do with the EBT scheme that Biz is working on,” Hopeton began. “I assume you’re aware of what he’s been doing in your house, no?”
I nodded, still expressionless.
“Well, we’re at the point where we need to bring someone in to help facilitate delivery.”
“But I thought this was all Biz and Luciano’s gig,” I interjected.
Cabrón didn’t even try to hide his eyeroll. I knew I was trying his patience.
“Biz and Lucci handle the front office end. Someone gets them what they need and from there, those two are just in charge of making sure all the paperwork is straight,” he explained. Again, with the paperwork.
“So, what do you need from me?”
“Think about it Eula,” ‘Brón prompted. “We get the cards. Biz and Lucci deal with the technical shit. And then what happens?”
I tipped my head towards him and shrugged my shoulders. I was determined to make them spell this out for me.
At this point, Hopeton took over.
“We have a small distribution route from Fort Greene to Bushwick. Very manageable, very safe. All people we know and trust. On a regular schedule.”
“Ohhhhhhh,” I smiled.
“Yeah,” Cabrón agreed. “And we need someone inconspicuous to make the drop-offs. No one would look at someone like you and think courier.”
“Designated white girl,” I said softly, more to myself that to the room at large.
