CHAPTER TWELVE
2000 – Errand Boy & Janitor. And Hopeton.
“Alright, Hopeton. I gotta tell you something that I know I should’ve told you about months ago,” I began. Hopeton could hear the tension in my voice. I looked down and noticed my right leg was shaking.
Hopeton held up a hand, stood up and walked over to the mini fridge across the room. He came back with an ice-cold Guinness in his hand, passed it over and told me, “Drink up first, then we talk.”
Hopeton sat there and lightly tapped his fingers against the dark wood of the desk as I chugged the stout in 3 big draws.
I fuckin’ needed that Guinness.
Once I’d gotten back on track, I walked Hopeton through the whole stupid scenario- from the break-in and theft all the way back to how we got there in the first place.
Hopeton looked surprised, but not upset.
“Lemme make sure I have this right,” he said. “You and Mundo have been dealing guns out of a garage he owns in Brownsville for the past year?”
“Mundo has, really. I’m not into that shit,” I explained. “I’d help him out here and there, but I let him know the most I’d do was keep track of the inventory and have shit ready for him whenever he was ready to move it.”
Hopeton’s face read displeasure.
“But,” I rushed to continue before he got a chance to start in on whatever shit he was about to ding me with, “When Mundo left for Panama, he asked me to just stay with it until the holding bay was emptied, and then it would be over. And once Bolo stopped needing me to take care of the Port, I figured I may as well stick it out.”
“Wait until Bolo hears about this,” Hopeton said.
I shrugged. Not my problem.
By the time we finished talking it out, Hopeton was clear about the fact that I was sick and tired of being Mundo’s errand boy and janitor, I was okay with doing crime shit to a certain degree but that guns were something I didn’t want to touch if at all possible. Oh, and that the reason I didn’t go to him at the beginning of all this mess was because even though I knew it woulda saved me a lot of hassle, it just felt too much like snitching.
“Okay,” Hopeton said once I’d talked myself out. “Stop chat. I’m going to have a talk with Bolo and Mundo and we’re going to figure out what to do with that garage. In the meantime, put those guns in a shoe box and move them to that little girl’s house and stick them in the back of her closet. Sell them off five at a time, and then be done with it.”
“Eula?”
Hopeton nodded.
When I asked him if he thought she’d get nosy and freak out, he said, “No, she’s too lazy. Just tell her you need to leave a few things in her apartment, hand her an extra $500 and leave it at that. Any time you need to pick up some of the guns, just throw a little more cash at her- maybe a little dope. She’ll never bother to go into those boxes.”
And he was right.
