Yoshi looked at the men uncomfortably because she didn’t know their faces. “I’ll be okay,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

Jah picked up on the uncertainty in her voice. “Nah, I’ll walk you on. Yo,” he turned to the driver, “hold on a second while I walk her in.”

“Come on, come on. I already go out of my way coming to Harlem,” the driver protested. “You make it stop, you catch another cab.”

“Why you acting like a nigga ain’t gonna pay you? I got money, duke,” Jah said, showing the driver a knot.

“No, no. I already go too far out of my way!”

Jah looked like he wanted to do something to the driver, but Yoshi eased him with a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she said, handing the driver thirty dollars. “We’ll call you another cab, Jah,” she said to the youngster.

Jah climbed out of the taxi and went around to the other side to hold the door for Yoshi. Taking her by the hand, he helped her to the curb. He looked back at the cabdriver, who was staring at him maliciously, and spat in his face. Thick phlegm dripped down the cabdriver’s face and settled on his upper lip. In a rage he threw the door open, but was frozen by the sight of the cannon Jah now pointed at him.

“Go ahead, nigga,” Jah said, aiming the pistol at the cabdriver’s face. “You got some frog in you?” Nervously, the cabdriver sped off without bothering to close his door. “Bitch-ass nigga!” Jah shouted at his taillights. Yoshi just shook her head and allowed Jah to lead her to the building.

The gang who was posted up on Yoshi’s stoop quickly got out of their way as they approached. One of the boys who had been staring at Jah quickly turned his eyes away when the young man looked in his direction. The rest of them just nodded as Jah and Yoshi walked into the building.

Yoshi’s first-floor apartment was tastefully decorated in warm autumn colors. There was an auburn-colored couch that with the matching love seat formed an L in the living room and a big-screen television that took up a good amount of the wall. Yoshi also had a huge china cabinet filled with crystal glasses and figurines. Her hardwood floors were clean and polished almost to a mirrored shine. The apartment looked like it belonged to an older couple as opposed to a young girl from the hood. Jah had to admit it was hardly what he expected.

“Damn, you got a fly crib, Yoshi,” Jah said, looking around in awe.

Yoshi tossed her purse on the couch. “What did you expect, some Section Eight shit with roaches running all over the place?”

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.