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The Big Doe Takeover

The Big Doe Rehab pt.4 (Final)

*Last time we left you with Ghost crimping, creasing, and folding hundreds of dollars into eight-inch figaro chains, pinky rings, and even a pair of earrings out of the new big-face fifties so they look like lemonhead diamonds!

*illustrations by Jimmy Blags. As told by Spaulding H. Forsythe. Powered by Brooklyn Bodega.

Yesterday was amazing. Toney and I spent some real quality time together (nh). And now that I have a chance to look back, it all starts to make sense.

After lunch yesterday, I left the cafeteria only to see Ghost in some heavy conversation with one of the nicer Rehab orderlies. Minutes later, Starks came in the room with another duffel over his shoulder. I thought it was just another dose of doe to add to the pile. But it was so much more. Toney emptied the bag on the floor to reveal four pairs of blazing white orderly slip-ons and seemingly thousands of Kool-Aid packets. Ghost had bartered with the non-medical staff for a few pieces of their wardrobe.

“We about to dye these, son!” He said.

We went crazy, like the shoes were 50 cent sodas in the hood. No words. None were needed.

Hours later Ghost showed me his finished product: the Island of Staten, compete with the Verrazano-Narrrows Bridge on the right shoe, the Bayonne Bridge on the left, Stapleton Projects on the toe in amazing detail. A starry sky above that, all blended in, with multi-colored twinkles. And somehow he dyed the sole beige, like a gum sole. His shoes were incredible. Dude is Da Vinci with canvas and Kool-Aid.

Mine are a blazing all-orange pair (I used the Orange Splash flavor), balanced by the bright-white midsole. Ghost liked them with the mint green. I offered a trade, but Ghost deaded that. He was too attached—and rightfully so—to his.

Now, if I was on my Columbo-type intuition sh*t, that should have showed me something. But I was too busy trying to figure out how to steal the Staten slip-ons without getting my neck snapped by the Don. You don’t get more limited then those. One of one until infinity.

When I woke up this morning, Ghost was gone. So was most of his “medication.” A trail of big-face twenties led me to the closet we shared. Inside, perched on the corner of the laundry basket, were another pair of customized slip-ons. These were all gold and white, a maze-like pattern, with a zig-zagging red line running across the side and toe. Inside was a note:

Spaulding,

I had to set myself free like that Martin Luther King sh*t. So here’s how you break out. Follow the cherry line. Wait until dumb early, fam. Also, don’t stress that money bullsh*t whatever whatever whatever. You gots to earn it before you can stack it. Otherwise, you going backwards. It’s like in the shower, you don’t wash your nuts, then wash your face. You feel me?

When you get out, don’t fu*king call me. Ever.

Love,
Toney

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