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There was a song by The O’Jays back in the day that went something like: Your body’s here with me, but your mind is on the other side of town.

Well that’s exactly what and how I was feeling, and it wasn’t ’cause of some other woman on the other side of town that I was messin’ around with.

My mind was on 35th Street in Manhattan. In my mind’s eye, one of my closest friends is dying in my arms and there is nothing I can do to help him.

This nightmare began the night Frank Sparrow defended his middleweight crown at The Garden. When I got there with Wanda, Black said he wanted to talk to me. Both Wanda and I cringed, thinking that he had found out about our covert relationship and was about good on his threat to kill whoever it was that Wanda was involved with. But what he wanted was something that I never expected to hear from him. “I need you to watch Freeze.”

“Freeze? Why?”

“His boy Mylo arranged for Frank to take a dive.”

“What?”

“Told Frank I wanted him to do it.”

“You think Freeze knew about it?”

“I don’t think so, but this nigga Mylo is his boy. Keep your eye on Freeze, but you don’t let Mylo outta your sight.”

“I’m on them, Black.”

That was the promise that I made.

And the promise that I didn’t keep.

After the fight, Sparrow jumped up on the ring ropes and pointed his glove at Mylo. Black hadn’t counted on Sparrow calling Mylo out like that. We had to fight our way through the crowd to catch up with him. As soon as Mylo and Masters could, they separated.

“Freeze, you and Nick get Mylo. Bring him to the parlor. I’ll meet you there.” Black told me that night.

“Where you goin’?”

“Get Mylo.”

“What about him?” I asked quietly since he thought Freeze might have been involved in the plot.

“He’s good. Just get Mylo,” Black said, and he and Bobby went after Masters.

All they knew was that Masters was involved with Mylo in the plot to kill Black, and that was enough reason to kill him. They both turned out to be DEA.

By the time we caught up with Mylo he had made it out of The Garden and was on 35th Street. He was startled when me and Freeze caught up with him in the crowd. “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?” Freeze asked as soon as he was close enough to put his hands on him.

“No where. Just tryin’ to get out of here. You know, get back to the house; see how things are goin’.”

“You not goin’ to the after party?” Freeze asked as we walked alongside of him through the crowd.

“Yeah, I’ma stop by there later, you know; once the real after party gets goin’.”

“You oughta come ride with us,” Freeze told him.

I guess Mylo knew that if he went anywhere with us that we would kill him the first chance we got, and he was right. Mylo reached for his gun and turned to Freeze.

He fired two shots.

Freeze grabbed his stomach and fell into my arms. I laid Freeze on the ground. “Don’t let him get away, Nick,” Freeze told me as he grimaced through the pain.

I looked around and didn’t see Mylo anywhere. He was gone. “I’m not leaving you.” I said and held onto Freeze.

How could I have been so stupid?

Why didn’t I take Mylo’s gun right away?

It’s my fault that Freeze is dead. Even though they tell me that it’s not, I know better. Freeze is dead ’cause I got careless. And even though I avenged his death so Freeze could rest in peace, I haven’t found any peace for myself.

Freeze started workin’ for Black when he was sixteen years old. He was a kid, but Black saw something in him. That’s what we used to call him, The Kid. Back then, all Freeze did was run little errands for Black and hang out at the club messing with the ladies. That all changed one night after we robbed a warehouse and somebody robbed our load.

The next night when I got to The Late Night, Freeze was there talkin' to Black. They sat there for most of the night, and then Freeze jumped up and headed for the door. A couple of days later, Freeze had caught all of the guys that robbed us.

After that, Black made me work with Freeze. I had mad respect for the kid for catching them muthafuckas by himself. But he was just a kid; I didn’t wanna work with him. The way shit worked was, since Black doesn’t like to drive, whenever he had a little job to do, he would call me and say “come scoop me up.”

Only this time when I get there, Black is nowhere to be found and Freeze gets in the car. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? Where’s Black?”

“Black wants me to go with you.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say why. He just said when Nick gets here that I should go with you.”

I put the car in drive and pulled off. “Where to?”

“Spot off Boston Road.”

“Who we goin’ to see?”

“You know Harry Walker, right?” Freeze asked as I drove.

“Greasy?”

Yeah, I know his fat ass. He was a gambler who liked to bet on football, but Greasy had a string of bad luck. Lost a lot of money one Sunday then tried to bet his way out of it; as some gamblers are known to do. Now he owed one of our bookies a hundred grand.

We waited outside Greasy’s apartment building, waiting for him to come home for the night. Neither of us had much to say while we were waiting, just listened to the radio, and watched the door. I was thinkin’ about whether it was good idea for Black to send Freeze along with me. I didn’t think he was up to it.

It was after three in the morning when Greasy got to his apartment. He was in the company of a very pretty full-figured woman.

As soon as Freeze saw Greasy heading for the building, he was out the car. I gave him points for enthusiasm. I was anxious to see if he got any points for style and more importantly, effectiveness.

By the time Greasy wobbled to the door and got his keys out, Freeze was on him. He put his gun to the back of Greasy’s head. “What the fuck!” I heard Greasy say when I finally got to the door.

“Unlock the door and go inside,” Freeze ordered the big man.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?”

“Black sent me.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the nigga that’s gonna shoot you and the titty bitch here if you don’t unlock the fuckin’ door.”

Greasy unlocked the door and we went inside. Freeze told the woman to sit down and be quiet, while he backed Greasy up to the wall at gunpoint. It was only then that Greasy recognized me. “Nick? That you, Nick?”

“What’s up, Greasy?” I said and took a seat next to his big tittie companion.

And they were pretty titties too.

I put my gun on my lap and she smiled at me. She looked like the sight of my gun and all that was going on was exciting her. Maybe she was just hoping that those big-ass titties would allow her to walk out with her life. Truth was she had nothing to worry about. At least I didn’t think so. Freeze never said if Black wanted them dead or not, but I knew Black didn’t like killing women.

“Who the fuck is this kid, Nick?” Greasy asked and Freeze punched him in his stomach for asking. He doubled over in pain.

“I already told you who I am,” Freeze said calmly. “I’m the nigga who’s gonna put a bullet in your head if you don’t do what I tell you, which means you don’t talk unless I tell you to.” Freeze hit him in the stomach again. “Understand?” And then he hit him in the stomach again. This time Greasy went down to one knee. Those shots to the gut had taken all the wind out of him.

“Okay, okay,” Greasy said, sucking air, trying to catch his breath.

At that point I knew Greasy wasn’t gonna be any trouble, at least not that night. I was impressed with the way Freeze had taken control of the situation, just like Black would have.

What I didn’t know, and didn’t find out until much later, was that Freeze had been rollin’ with Black. Freeze had learned his craft directly from Mike Black. Like I said, Black doesn’t like to drive, and at the time, Freeze didn’t know how to drive, so they would take the train. Picture that; they do what they gotta do, and then walk calmly back to the train station and go back uptown.