White Heat Beast

by Steven Jennings

  So I decided to get a Job at Mickey Dee’s Restaurant and save up some money before I left. I figured it would keep me busy and out of trouble until I left. The last place I needed to be was in the street, especially with Damon wanting to put some hot slugs in my back! On Monday morning I walked into Mickey Dee’s and asked for a job application. Places like that are always hiring so I knew I would be in luck at one of their locations.

  It only took me about 5 minutes to finish the application because I have not had a real job as since I first started High School. As I passed the application back to the manager she looked me up and down and sort of licked her lips on the sly.

  She was one of those white girls who listens to rap music, like my mom. I could tell by the way she looked, with the gold chains, the gold tooth, gold bracelets, tight pants and the short haircut like a sista. Plus she had a black twang to her voice. She sounded like she was trying really hard to let me know she was “keeping it real”.

  When she spoke, if I would have closed my eyes I would have sworn she was Nikki Minaj. I decided to use this to my advantage. So I leaned over the counter and asked very politely, “May I ask what your name is?” That girl damn near turned into butter in my hands. She started talking real fast and telling me that I was going to be starting work in a few days or sooner. Then I stuck my hand out to shake her hand and with both hands she almost pulled my arm off!

  I just smiled and walked out the door rubbing my shoulder, “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick up my uniform.” I never even caught the broad’s name. The next day I returned with a positive attitude. I normally wouldn’t belittle myself to a burger flipping job, but I could rest in the comfort that I would soon be moving on to much better things. The same Manager was waiting at the front counter when I walked in,

  She yelled out, “hey what’s your name again?”

  I said, “Shawn.”

  She said, “your uniform is in my office Shawn, come on back with me.” I followed her through a cluttered kitchen of cooking contraptions and disgruntled looking workers.” We entered a tiny enclosed office in the rear corner of the store. It was next to a large walk in freezer where most of the food stock was kept. She ran her hand through a large cardboard box and pulled out a pair of paints and a shirt.

  “You look like you wear Large.”

  “Yes I wear a large. Dang I didn’t know you could size me up so easy.”

  She cracked a mischievous smile.

  “Hmm, you got big feet too.”

  That comment kind of took me by surprise.

  I didn’t quite know how to respond. It could have been a trick to see if I was going to be the next sexual harassment case. So I just smiled and shyly looked down at the ground.

  I casually straightened my paints, and when I looked up I noticed she was looking directly at my penis bulge. She handed me the pants and smiled.

  “I know you are going to do well Shawn. So does your girlfriend need a job too?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend, actually, I aint even dating anyone at the time.”

  She replied, “Oh is that so? Why is that? Are you too much of a man or not enough?”

  This damn conversation was going too far for comfort. I felt like she was trying to bait me in for some type of trap or something.

  “Well, I better get going. I have a lot of things to get done today.” She just grinned at me and walked past me, brushing against my chest. “Oops! Excuse me sir”

  “Oh you’re excused,” I whispered.

  Damn she had a nice body.

  I have not seen many white girls with a butt like a

  Black girl, so when I do I’m usually on it.

  I followed her back up front and waved goodbye as I walked out the door. I took a quick glance back and noticed she was looking at my ass so hard that she was almost leaning on her tip toes. I just said, “Damn!” While I was walking to the bus stop I saw a car full of thug looking dudes with their music blasting so loud I could feel the bass pumping in my chest. As they drove past I looked to see who was driving. It was an old box Chevy with chrome wheels and a candy paint job. I was trying to focus my eyes to see who it was and found myself standing still and staring.

  The guy driving the car was Damon, The same guy I beat up in the parking lot! As soon as I noticed it was him, I turned around and pretended I was coughing. The guy in the passenger seat noticed I was staring and he leaned over and said something to Damon. I started walking back toward the Mickey Dee’s so I could avoid a confrontation. Damon pulled a hard U-turn and started speeding in my direction.

  I felt like running, but instead I stood still and waited for whatever fate may have awaited me. Damon pulled up beside me and turned his radio down. He spoke first saying, “What’s up cracka?”

  I replied, “Yo what’s up Dawg.”

  Damon wanted trouble, I could tell. He said, “Damn man I aint seen you in a long time. So what you up to these days fool?”

  “I’m just chillin out man,” I replied.

  “Is that a Mickey Dee outfit you holding motherfucker?”

  “Yeah man I’m picking it up for a friend,” I replied.

  “Uh-huh, is that so? Ha-Ha cracka you work at a fast food restaurant! Look at me and look at you punk!”

  I could feel him escalating the situation on purpose. “You was talking all that shit about what you were gonna do when you graduate and look at your punk ass now!” I remember thinking Damon must have had a gun to be talking so reckless to me. I just started walking away at that point. I could tell he was trying to take it to another level.

  A person like Damon would do something crazy in broad daylight, and I didn’t want to get shot when I was gonna be leaving in a month.

  “Damon I don’t want no beef man,” I said.

  “Motherfucker you got beef! I’m gonna see you soon and when I do, I’m gonna kill you bitch! So you better be scared to breath,” he replied.

  I decided to stand up to his punk ass. “Damon I aint scared of you nigga! Anyway, I thought we squashed this shit!” “We aint squash shit punk! You threw a sucker punch at me,” he cried out.

  “That wasn’t no sucker punch! We boxed! hands up,” I said. Then Damon got so mad, he decided to do it in broad day light. “Nigga I’m tired of talking, we about to get busy on your ass right here!” I started walking away from the car. I heard the car door swing open as I turned my back. One of his homeboys jumped out and ran up to me with both of his fist balled up.

  I glanced back and he was a big cock diesel nigga like Shaq! He had to be bigger than my father. I knew I had seen him on the football field at our school. Damon must have paid this motherfucker to help him. As I turned around and threw my guards up he tried to take a wild swing at me. He was much too slow to connect on me, so I ducked and caught him with a left uppercut, followed by a right cross. He was off balance and almost falling forward when I connected with his chin with a solid Mike Tyson blow. His head snapped back so hard that he made a short gurgling sound, as If his breathing had been temporarily cut off.

  He dropped to one knee and was spitting out teeth. So I took off running before the whole car emptied out. Damon and his boys only chased me a half block before they gave it up. I had been jogging and exercising for the army, so my running skills were getting better! I left them dudes in the dust that day. But I knew this situation was far from over. I went back to the Mickey Dee’s and used a payphone to call a cab.

  When I got back home my mother was gone. I sat at the kitchen table and held my head in my hands. It was going to be a long month for me.

  I had to let my new job know that I could only work mornings.

  With these fools on the loose I didn’t want to be in a situation where I could get caught leaving work at night. I knew Damon, and that worked to my advantage. I knew he didn’t wake up until noon in the summer and he didn’t leave the house until damn near sundown. I rested on the couch and wondered if I should just let the job go, so I could stay in the house.


  But I wasn’t going to hide. I would just be cautious when moving around town. That’s one of the things that a person has to live within the city. It’s big enough to avoid trouble, but sometimes death is only a moment away on a daily basis.

  Chapter 7: Linda’s Problem With Men

  My name is Linda Brown, and I am Shawn’s mother. I decided to write this entry in my diary, because well, I think I should start doing new things. Lately I’ve been thinking about how I felt when Shawn told me he joined the Army. He always thought he was so slick. Whenever he lied to me I could tell by looking at him. As long as it wasn’t a big deal I would just ignore it and let him think he was getting away with something. But when he told me he was joining the Army I knew he was telling the truth, it was in his eyes.

  Poor Shawn, he didn’t know that I was dealing with my own personal life, that’s something he never really was a part of. He thought I was always at work, but sometimes I was just busy helping my friends through their drama while still dealing with my own unresolved issues. I’m a complex person, but my story is a simple one. I’ve been a mother for most of my life. I got pregnant with my oldest son “Barry” when I was just 17 years old. His daddy was much older than me but that didn’t negate the fact he wasn’t worth shit! But damn, he sure could sweet talk a lady, and he was fine as hell!

  He looked like a professional basketball player. As a matter of fact, he looked like Rick Fox. He was tall and muscular, with a cute little baby face. He could smile and make my heart melt with ease, and apparently he knew that. I didn’t find out that he was a gangster until much later. He told me such sweet and wonderful things when we first met.

  He treated me like a queen. And even though his money was tight, he always made it a point to make sure that I was taken care of. I loved that man once upon a time. But as soon as we got married he started beating my ass like I was his child. Although I was much younger than him, I always believed that he would treat me as his equal after we got married. But that wasn’t the type of man he was. As a matter of fact, I think he knocked me up with Barry on purpose. That was his way of putting his claim on me.

  I thought he would marry me before Barry was born, but Craig beat around the bush for about ten years, and got me in trouble all the time, with those drugs. I remember all the shit I use to deal with back in those days. He would bring his sorry ass in at all times of the night with his breath stinking like liquor and some other woman’s scent all over his clothes. He would also keep cocaine in the car, all the time.

  But the women are what pissed me off the most. Once, I confronted him about his womanizing. At that time Barry was really little. I was tired of turning my head and ignoring the truth. I had been doing it for so long, hoping that he would grow out of that stuff. On this one night in particular he came in the house at around 4am and stumbled straight to the bathroom.

  I laid in the bed pretending like I was asleep so I could catch him doing something out of the ordinary. He came out of the bathroom with his pants balled up in his hand, dick swinging and all, and threw them on the closet floor, which wasn’t common, because he would pass out in his clothes most times. Damn, that man had some big hands! He was palming the whole pair of pants like a basketball.

  When he went back in the bathroom, I crept out of the bed and went into the closet to find some clues. I put the crotch of his underwear briefs to my nose and inhaled deeply. I know that sounds silly, but I found exactly what I was looking for. His underwear smelled just like another woman’s vagina. I was so mad that I went digging in his pockets to find more evidence. But Craig was too slick to leave condoms in his pants.

  As a matter of fact, he never left any evidence that he couldn’t explain his way around. I kicked the bathroom door and started yelling.

  “Craig let me in! I have to use it!”

  “Damn girl I’m using it right now!

  He said.

  “Craig I don’t care! Open the door now!”

  I screamed.

  He calmly replied no and turned the water on.

  I was like,

  “No what! Motherfucker?”

  He growled,

  “No I aint opening this damn door!”

  I replied,

  “Craig I’m serious, open this damn door!”

  He screamed, “Bitch leave me alone!”

  So I said, “Your Mama is a bitch!”

  I shouldn’t have gone there with him; because that was the first time he showed me his true colors. Before I could even finish my sentence he swung the door open and went after me. I tried to run into the living room but he caught me by the back of my hair. Then I felt a sharp pain in the small of my back, near my kidneys. He was punching me in the kidneys and cursing me so loud! I couldn’t believe it. He had a handful of my hair clutched in his hand.

  He screamed,

  “You fucking whore! After all the shit I do for your ass!”

  I tried to calm him down,

  “Craig please baby! You’re drunk! Please you’re hurting me bad!”

  But my legs felt so numb that I could barely feel the ground beneath me. Actually, I think he had me lifted off the ground. Craig was so damn strong! He was like a big ole ox, and all muscle. I loved that about him when I first met him, but I hated that about him when he started beating me.

  After he threw me to the floor, I just balled up in a fetal position and cried. I wanted to run out the house and never come back, but I had to think about my first baby, Barry. I always dreamed of having a family with the real father present.

  I wanted the house with a picket fence. But that’s the problem with men. They can be so damn trifling! My mother worked her fingers to the bone every day, and in those days it was hard to raise children without daycare. She held two jobs and never missed a day of work in 20 years. I am not ashamed of my mother, she was a good woman.

  Sometimes us women can be as sweet as a baby, never cheat on our man and keep a good job and still get shafted by some asshole, like my verbally abusive dad. It’s like a curse, that all women must endure the pleasure as well as the pain of a man’s love and the wrath of his hate. For example, my girlfriend Charlotte comes by my house every month so she can do my hair. She’s been in a mentally abusive relationship for over two years. The only reason she comes over once a month is because her man keeps her locked up in the house. He’s very insecure and he hates all of her friends.

  So when she comes by we talk about what’s happening in our lives. I’ve been trying to convince her to leave that man while she has a chance. Charlotte is a very pretty girl and she has a nice shape. I don’t know why she winds up with these ex-convict boyfriends all the time. I call her a bum magnet, because they always seem to be attracted to her.

  And if the brother is good in bed, he meets all her requirements. I mean, he’s as good as a doctor or a lawyer in her eyes. But she’s young, she will learn that sex is only important for the few minutes that a man climbs on top of her and does his business.

  Chapter 8: Beast Transformation

  My mother has been acting really strange lately, like she is in a daze. Unfortunately, I couldn’t spend time with her and talk, because I was in a rush all the time trying to get ready for the Army, go to work and avoid getting killed by Damon and his goons. The day I left for boot camp was like a fast moving blur. Everything happened so quickly, it was hard to process. It wasn’t physically difficult, but it was hard to get mentally prepared. All potential soldiers arrive at their assigned Military Entrance Processing Station early in the morning. Everyone in the room is kind of scared, yet slightly aroused, with anticipation of what horror or honor may await them, in basic training. We took photos, weighed in, took a drug test, some other blood tests, and all kinds of other crap. I heard one of the doctors who handled my blood test say to another doctor, that I was the one.

  It was really weird; he literally pointed at me and said, “He’s the one.” I was like, what the fuck does that mean? The one what? But I s
hrugged it off and thought maybe he bought some dope from me back on the block. I would just deny it as usual.

  After the physical exams, we sat in a hotel room until it was time to take the flight to basic training. It’s like you go on lockdown, because Uncle Sam doesn’t want to lose his investment between the time you sign the dotted line and the time they really got your ass locked in the deal.

  So we sat around in a cheap hotel in the woods with two guys to each room and waited. We blew time by talking about horror stories we heard from relatives and friends, about Drill Sergeants. Then, at some insane hour of the night, we were whisked away to an airport and off we went, on a commercial airplane, to a military airplane, then on a bus and finally to a remote Military base that was known as our new home away from home for the next 8-13 weeks. All this traveling happened in a single day, it was one big fucking rush. Then we weighed in again, and were taken to a barber shop on the military post where we got our hair cut to military specifications.

  A person can either get a High and Tight, which is when you shave the sides of your head, and keep a little hair on top, or a screaming eagle, where they cut your hair bald. I opted for a screaming eagle, because I didn’t feel like being bothered with hair. I was kind of happy to get my braids cut out. They were kind of like dreads, but they made me look like a stoner.

  All the sudden, these men start coming around us inside the barber shop, wearing camouflage green military uniforms. They didn’t speak to us at first, but they stared at us, sizing us up, and talking amongst themselves.

  You really have no idea who these guys are, because they don’t have any drill sergeant hats on, and they don’t look like the Drill Sergeants you see on television. Then once you walk outside, you are literally taken out back and assaulted by these guys.