Voorheeze & Clarkola

by De'Kari

  “You could say excuse me brother”, was all Batman said after Norton kept going.

  Norton was already having a shitty day and he didn’t like the authoritative way the guy said it. Hell, he was the authority in this fucking city.! “Nigga, fuck you punk” he called over his shoulder.

  Three Brothers smelled so good a vegetarian mothafucka would slide thru and snatch up some tacos. But the smell of food now made him sick. He was craving one thing only now, that cop’s soul!

  He followed and waited patiently all the while telling himself he tried to be nice. After, he shot him twice in the head, he walked out. A pig was a pig; not just Milpitas police. Batman took it upon himself to declare war on all cops.

  **** N. D. ****

  (The Next Day)

  Tieka walked out of the office with a smile on her face. She’d just finished giving her presentation to her supervisor and he was highly pleased with her work. He was ready to tell her to pack it in, but she was able to convince him to extend the deadline. She felt deep down that she could do more and make it better.

  She walked out of the big building downtown thankful to God for the strength he gave her not to give up or give in. As a gentle breeze blew a feeling of calm overcame her and a single tear of joy rolled down her face. She remembered all too well when her only tears were tears of grief, heartbreak and agony. Clark needed her to run a few errands for him but that could wait. Right now, she felt she deserved a celebration. Hell, a girl deserved to get her nails done then she could take care of his needs.

  **** N. D. ****

  (Milpitas, CA)

  Now was the time, Lt. Urena had been waiting on this day for the last three years. He made his mind up back then on what he wanted to do. He had been waiting on a way in and he just found it. He picked up his phone and dialed the number. While it rang, his eagerness built.

  “Hello?” The caller finally picked up.

  “Me and you are about to become very close.” Urena practiced time and time again exactly just what he would say and how he would say it.

  “Who da fuck is this? Man are you playing on my phone?” He didn’t recognize the number or the voice.

  “I assure you this isn’t a game. Everything and everybody you love is in danger.” Urena paused to make sure he had his attention. He was smiling and stroking his mustache, a habit he has. “I’m going to send you something right now to look over. After you look over it give me a call, we need to talk. Oh, and this is Lieutenant Urena of the San Mateo Sherriff’s Department currently working out of Milpitas.” There was no response. The call was terminated.

  Urena knew he would call back. He had no choice. Urena would be willing to assist him in solving the problem. But it was going to be expensive. His gambling debt had gotten so high he knew he could neva pay it off. The threats had already started. His other addiction, high priced prostitutes, was only putting him further in the hole. He needed a payday, and this was going to be it.

  This would no doubt cover all his debt problems and vices and still he’ll have some left over. But he wasn’t trying to make this a onetime payday. He wanted this to open the door and be the beginning of a continued working relationship. Then he’d be able to finally live life the way he wanted.

  Who knows maybe Amber would stop hooking and be with him. Sure, he would leave Esmeralda. He’s been tired of her for the longest. She disgusts him with her fat ass. All she does is eat and complain. She is driving him crazy.

  As he exits the freeway, he thinks back to the time he thought about killing her. He thought, planned, thought and planned some more but ended up chickening out. He’d neva killed anyone before. He didn’t think he could do it. His ringing phone brought him out of his thoughts.

  “Hello?” He answered so cheesy.

  “I’ll be at the Milpitas Public library tomorrow at 1:00 o’clock in the afternoon. Look for the Urban Street literature section. I’ll be reading Backstreet Life by Dekari.” Again, he didn’t wait for a response. He just disconnected. The line.

  Urena pulled up to the apartment complex just as the conversation was ended. Of course, he was at Amber’s place. Tomorrow, he was going to be filthy rich so there was nothing wrong with spending a little money that he didn’t have for a little taste of heaven. He popped a Viagra then dialed her number.

  (San Jose Main Jail)

  There was concrete and brick walls, a two foot by seven-foot concrete slab for a bed, a metal make-shift desk and shelf plus a stainless-steel sink and toilet combination. Voorheeze was used to being locked up; he had been doing time since age eleven.

  He knew how to do time, but he still hated it. The fucking air was always stale. It was a mixture of piss, funky ass and garbage. A smell that has accumulated over years of neglected cleanliness. They threw him in the hole when he arrived. Double red jumpsuit to signify he was fighting a murder. He wasn’t nothing special though, everybody on his floor was fighting a murder. He just happened to be charged with the most.

  Voorheeze had been transferred here almost a month ago. He’d lost so much weight due to not eating the bullshit they call chow. Even though he didn’t let it show, the prospect of him doing life in prison stressed him the fuck out. To pass the time he often reflected on what he’d experienced when he was in the coma. Not the dead people. Fuck them niggaz, they got what they deserved; except little Lamar. That will always hurt his soul. But he reflected on the visions of his lost angels Patricia, LaTrisha and Emma. Damn he really missed them. Just hearing them gave a boost to his spirit.

  What about the visions of her? She’d always been his one true love; all his life, no matter who he was with. Could seeing her have been a sign? Lisa don’t you know I would give all this shit up for you? But it wouldn’t matter cause I’m all fucked up anyway. I’ll just end up fucking it up somehow. Luckily the guard walked by doing a security check and distracted him. Her name was Officer Presley. She was a cool down to earth sistah. One of the few guards that still treated people like they were human and one of a select few who still remembered that they were Black. She was cute too. Most of the cats on the floor tried to holla at her. She even checked niggaz in a respectful manner. Voorheeze wouldn’t play himself trynna holla. Shit it wasn’t nothing she could do for him but get him a roll of toilet paper and pop his cell door for a shower.

  Presley had doubled backed. He could tell by the way her keys dangled. That’s what happens when someone becomes institutionalized. You develop senses that are unheard of such as waking up from a deep sleep merely from someone standing in front of your door. Or sleeping and still being aware of and hearing everything going on around you. But the best thing is being able to tell whose approaching your cell by the sound of their steps.

  “Simpson, you got an attorney visit.” She tells him when she gets back to his cell door.

  “How you doing today, sistah?” He asked her as he stepped out of his cell.

  “I’m doing good how about yourself?” This is the first time he has ever actually looked at her. She looks so much like her.

  “I’m beautiful cuz life is good.” He truly means it. Every word.

  Inside the attorney visiting room, Patience is sitting with a big ass smile on her face.

  “Do you remember what I told you when you said you would give me whatever I wanted if I was able to get you out of here?” She asked him as soon as he sat down.

  “Patience don’t be in here fucking with me.” He learned back when he was a kid, neva to get his hopes up in regard to the system.

  “I want you to know that I will be importing the entire living room and sitting room furniture.” When he told her, he would give her anything money could buy, she told him to refurnish her house.

  “Look, I’m telling you ma. If these feet touch pavement again, you can import the whole fucking house.” Except for the occasional basketball court, prison was concrete.

  She looked at him and smiled some more. LaMont was a good guy. He’d made some terrible decisions, but
he was a good guy.

  “Well it seems that there was an officer following you while he was off duty, in fact he followed you out of the church for the funeral. He saw them open fire on everyone as you all were exiting the church. He also saw you when you returned fire.” Now that she had his attention. She continued, “By right you should be walking out of here but it’s the system, so we got to fight.”

  So, what are you saying?” Fuck the principal he thought.

  “All of the murder charges have been dropped. They’re still charging you with manslaughter. There’s a weapons charge and discharging a fire arm in a public area. You’ve been given a bail. It’s $500,000 of which I’ve already had the bondsman start the paperwork. You’ll be out of here in a few hours.” Patience was telling him everything, but her mind was really on the new furniture she was going to order.

  Voorheeze was thinking of all the shit that he had to do. Mothafuckas done took his kindness for weakness for the last time. He respected what Clark had done to the fullest but niggaz ain’t seen nothing yet. Walking back to his cell looking at officer Presley, he made his mind up. He was going to approach the woman that he loved. The worst thing she could say was no, fuck it! Oh! And how could he forget about Danika! He was going to break both of his feet off in her ass! Punk bitch ain’t answer not one call. She ain’t wrote or came to visit. The bitch had left him for dead. He had something for her.

  Real talk!

  CHAPTER XIX

  (East Palo Alto)

  It’s been a couple of months since the shooting at the funeral home caused Clark to go on one. The losses that were dished out were crippling. However, Neva Die took losses as well. Each loss was a blow personally felt. That was the rules of the game, give and take.

  Clark walked out of the McDonalds into the Home Depot lot with a bag of Chicken McNuggets and fries in his hand and an extra-large coke in the other. He juggled his cell phone between his shoulders and ear.

  “Look I’m serious I’mma come by early tonight. I’mma take care of everything I gotta take care of, then I’mma be at you.” He said into the phone as he walked to his car.

  “Don’t be trying to fill my head up with a bunch of bullshit Clark. I’m tired of sitting here waiting for you at night while you run to the next bitch!” She was yelling so loud in the phone it hurt his ears.

  “Tieka I’m serious! I’mma be over there! Look I’ll tell you what. I give you my word I’ll be there before 8pm.” Hell he sounded so convincing he almost believed himself.

  He was so caught up in the conversation he didn’t see the blue Chevy Malibu driving up on him or the two niggaz who hopped out.

  “Clark I’m serious, if you don’t come tonight then…”

  BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA!

  Taaat! taaat! taat! taat! taaat! taat!

  They opened fire. Clark felt bullets hit his body, the sharp pain causing him to drop what was in his hand. Some of the bullets went into the car. Some shattered the windows. One of the shooters had a hand gun and the other had an AK-47. People were screaming and scrambling to make sure they didn’t become a target or a casualty of a stray bullets.

  “Clark is that gunfire?” Tieka asked. She knew the sound of gunfire really well. “Clark! Clark! Answer me God admit!” Genuine concern was now in her voice. God this can’t be happening, not to him, not now!

  “Clarence answer this damn phone!” Her fear and frustration made her use his government name.

  He was bent over holding his stomach. The pain was fucking unbelievable! The blood running out of the bullet wounds felt like hot, liquid lava coming out of his body. He was still desperately grabbing for his banger but couldn’t get. It didn’t matter anyway because the shooters had already left. He was on the phone with Tieka but his thoughts were of Spiritual. Bystanders felt it safe enough now to come and gawk at him. They couldn’t believe the sight. By now he was on the ground. The charges literally looked like a prop at one of those active shooting ranges. Once people recognized who it was the phones came out. Some took pictures other made phone calls.

  The police arrived on the scene and began pushing back the spectators. There was no use asking if anybody saw anything. This was E.P.A a.k.a. Lil Bhag Dhag, nobody going to say shit. The ambulance arrived on the scene and quickly picked him up and put him inside of the bus. The siren came on and the ambulance sped away. There was some type of construction or something going on. The detour made the ambulance drive through the parking garage of IKEA.

  It exited the parking structure after a while and made its way to University Avenue. With the sirens blaring the ambulance traveled through traffic and finally turned left unto University speeding up the over-ramp. Suddenly the right rear tire blew out and the driver lost control. First the ambulance swerved, then the rear fishtailed and swerved back. The ambulance jumped up onto the curb and crashed through the chain-link fence.

  Drivers of the cars that witnessed it, gawked in disbelief as the ambulance tumbled off of the over pass and lands on the 101 Southbound Freeway lanes. Shockingly it didn’t hit any other vehicles. The ambulance exploded and erupted into flames. The explosion was so loud it was heard in the Gardens almost one mile away.

  The police, another ambulance and the Fire department arrived on the scene quickly but there was nothing that could be done. The blaze was too intense to try to get into the ambulance and attempt to save anyone. Everyone watched in terror as the fire refused to be extinguished. By the time the fire was completely out, and it was deemed safe to approach, three bodies were pulled out, barely recognizable as human bodies, they were so charred.

  **** N. D. ****

  (Milpitas)

  Hedgecock was on a two-week suspension for his off-duty surveillance of Simpson. The penalty wasn’t that bad considering. On the one hand the murder charges were dropped to manslaughter, which Simpson would most likely beat. Hedgecock was taking Laiens advice and was looking at the brighter side of things.

  Seeing the destruction that was caused out the day he accompanied them to East Palo Alto. If Laiens was right with his assumption, and it looked like he was, the shooting at the funeral home sparked the slaughter that occurred that day, then he was onto something big.

  He had a buddy pull him all the murders in East Palo Alto just on a whim. Though in actuality the cop killings were what he was working on. He believed in his gut, somehow it was all connected.

  He still had a few days left to carry out on his suspension. However, the Chief wanted everyone assembled for an addressment. He didn’t have a problem with the Chief, but he was on suspension, so he figured he shouldn’t have to be here for any type of meeting. Hedgecock wanted to keep thinking and going over everything that he had formulating in his head.

  He ignored the idle chatter that was going on around him. All of it some way revolved around the officers who were missing and presumed dead. He looked over to his right at the empty seat. Sergeant Costa usually sat in that seat. He thought it was a fucked-up day when a man couldn’t even wash his ass without having to worry about being fucked with.

  The Chief walked into the room and all chatter ceased. Everyone gave her their undivided attention. Chief Vieira was naturally a warm kind-hearted woman but years on the force had toughened her up and thickened her skin. She walked to the podium with her ample ass swaying as she passed. Chief Vieira was a middle-aged white woman with a body like a sistah. Rumor in the department was she liked brothas. God only knew brothas loved all that ass she had.

  “Let me have your attention please.” Everyone was paying full attention, but she still paused. It was a display of her authority.

  “As you all should know by now, a number of our colleagues have either gone missing or have been murdered. Truthfully the consensus now is that they all have been murdered.

  Unfortunately, we have yet to capture the party or parties involved. From what I’m told by captain Sweeney, we don’t even have a lead. Now, I didn’t call this meeting to tell all of you stuff that you al
ready know so don’t think that.” Chief Vieira was fuming with anger. It was taking all of her will power to keep control.

  “As of 7:35 this morning the FBI has been notified and made aware of what’s going on. Now as you all know I fucking hate the FBI. So naturally this was done without my consent which has only added insult to injury. Now the decision that was made by the assholes who are above me is that we have been given a time table to gain some lead way on this issue, if not those fuckers are coming in here. If another officer is killed or comes up missing they are coming in. Now I don’t want those assholes in my city or my department. Those are our comrades out there lost and gone. We need to be the ones to bring their murders to justice. Thank God this has still somehow managed to stay out of the media. Let’s find these assholes before they strike again.” She turned to look at the Captain. “Captain Sweeney find me the sons of bitches who are responsible or find yourself another job!” That was how she ended her briefing.

  All the officers were beyond stunned. There was no sugar coating, no diplomacy or courtesy whatsoever in how she said all that. The message was clear. Captain Sweeney ran the ship. If he couldn’t navigate it correctly she would find a new Captain. After all she owned the ship!

  After being put on the spot like that, all Sweeney could do is tell everybody to get to work and be safe. Red faced and embarrassed, he stormed out of the room. Nobody wanted the Feds to come in. The chief was right, it was their responsibility to solve this. They owed it to their fallen comrades.