Bury Me a G 4

by Tranay Adams

  Bloc!

  Light flashed from the window of the basement as Savino continued to open fire. The sudden burst of gunfire startled the man walking his dog and he hurried away in the opposite direction. Bloc! Bloc! *** Savino lowered his smoking weapon and looked at his handiwork. He then dropped the gun to the floor and pulled the leather glove from off his right hand with his teeth. Taking the glove, he stuffed it into his back pocket and pulled out his cellular phone. He speed dialed Cordell and placed the phone to his ear. “Boss dawg, I got something that’s gonna put me back in your good graces...” Savino smiled. *** Dawn was approaching so the sky was navy blue, with the sun slowly rising. The streets were scarce with cars. Occasionally, one would fly past, making that sound that automobiles make when they are driven fast. The last vehicle to come past was a ‘92 Ford Taurus, crossing a red stop light like it was good to go. The stop light turned green and a ‘72 Chevy F-150 pickup drove out into the intersection, stopping at a stop sign. The old heap was a rusty brown with mix match doors, looking like it had seen better days. It wasn’t much to look at but it got its owner where he needed to be. The driver threw the raggedy Chevy in park. The truck’s engine made a continuous loud noise, like a vehicle of its time, smoke wafting out of its exhaust pipes. The back red lights of the F-150 as well as its bubble headlights were the only lights seen in the dim lighting of the day. The front passenger door of the truck opened and a man wearing a bandana over the lower half of his face hopped out with a potato sack. He removed a step stool from the flat bed and looked both ways, making sure there wasn’t anyone around to witness what he was about to do. Having made sure that the coast was clear, the man set the step stool before the stop sign and walked up to the top of it. Opening the potato sack, the man pulled out Crackhead Jerome’s mutilated severed head. He stuffed the sack into his back pocket and held the severed head in both hands, studying its face.

  “Poor bastard,” the man placed the head on top of the stop sign’s pole. After pulling it down, he made sure that it would stay in place. Having seen that it was secure, he stepped down from the step stool and picked it up. He hurried over to the truck and tossed it into the flat bed. Jumping back inside of the pickup, he slammed the door shut and motioned for the driver to pull off.

  An hour later

  People crowded the street like there was a parade going on, all of them staring up at the head planted on top of the stop sign’s pole. Some of them were in shock while the others wondered who’d put it there and for what reason. The street niggaz that were in the audience knew exactly who the head belonged to and who had ordered it to be put there. They received Cordell’s message. Anyone that was against him would meet their demise. This was for all the mothafuckaz that may have thought that he’d gotten soft. This message would give them a rude awakening.

  CHAPTER TWENTY That night

  “Alright, you got everything, son?” Melvin asked Tiaz. They were standing inside of the living room with their luggage in their hands. Tiaz looked around the living room and thought on it for a moment. There wasn’t anything that he’d forgotten. “Yeah, pop. That’s everything.”

  “Alright then, let’s get up on outta here,” Melvin made his way towards the front door with Tiaz bringing up the rear. Reaching the front door, he stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyelids. The expression he had on his face was of a man that had something on his mind. “Shit,” he turned around to his son. “’Sup, pop?” Tiaz’ forehead wrinkled. “Here I was asking you if you forgot anything, and I’m the one leaving something behind,” he shook his head shamefully and sat his luggage down, addressing his son. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” Melvin journeyed back into his bedroom and flipped on the light switch. Standing in the doorway, he looked around the bedroom with furrowed brows, looking for something that was very sentimental to him. A smile broadened Melvin’s face when he saw the portrait that he’d left behind lying on the bed. He approached the portrait and picked it up, looking over it. Inside the frame was a photograph of him kissing his pregnant wife on her protruding belly. The smile that was already on his face grew that much broader seeing the joy that was on him and his wife’s face. Kissing the portrait, he slid it inside of his overcoat. He then made his way to the door and stepped on top of something on the floor. Once he went to take another step, he tripped over it and fell on his back. Lying where he was on the floor, he stared up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling easily. Melvin looked up from where he was on the floor and saw what he’d tripped over. It was a grenade. In addition to the guns, ammo and silencers that he’d bought from Gatz, he copped a few grenades from him as well. At the time he didn’t know what the hell he’d need some grenades for, but he figured that it was better to be safe than sorry, so he copped about eight of them. Getting back upon his feet, Melvin walked over to the grenade and picked it up. He shoved it inside of his overcoat’s pocket and advanced towards the door, flipping off the light switch on his way out. He shut the door behind him and made his way down the hallway. The closer he got to the living room he noticed that Tiaz wasn’t standing at the door like he was before he’d left him to get the portrait. Instead, he saw both of their luggages at the door. Melvin’s forehead creased and he looked from left to right as he drew closer to the living room. It wasn’t until he crossed the threshold into the living room that he saw what was going on. Melvin found Tiaz sitting in a chair at the center of the floor. Savino stood behind him with his .9mm automatic handgun pointed to the back of his dome. The young nigga’z neck was stiff and his eyes were staring out of their corners, trying to see exactly what it was Savino was doing. He knew that if he was to so much as flinch homeboy would send his brain flying from out of his forehead. Besides Savino, there were three other men in the living room. Two of them were dressed in all black and wore black sunglasses and black bandanas over the lower half of their faces. Down at their sides, they gripped AK-47s with both hands. These men were posted up on either side of the front door, both mad dogging Melvin. The third man was sitting on the couch with a silver .357 Magnum revolver lying in his lap which he held firmly. He was in a porkpie hat and linen suit, which he wore underneath his overcoat. “Melvin, right?” Cordell asked. He took the time to pull a Black & Mild out of his overcoat and stuck it into his mouth. “Yeah, that’s me,” Melvin confirmed, keeping his eyes on Tiaz. He saw the danger that his son was in and it made him uneasy. If it wasn’t for the fact that he and Tiaz had stashed their guns in the hidden compartments inside of their car, he would have drawn heat and set it off in that bitch. “Is all of that necessary?” He nodded to Savino who still had his gun pointed to the back of Tiaz’ dome. “I’m afraid so, you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t have mercy. But that lil’ cock sucka of yours stole from me.” Cordell patted himself down for a lighter. When he discovered one, he pulled it out and tried to light up his thin cigar. A flame wouldn’t form so one of his men stepped forth and lit his Black & Mild with his own lighter. Cordell, then, waved him back and puffed on his Black. Tilting his head back, he blew out a roar of smoke and focused his attention back on Melvin. “You see, Melvin, I detest thieves. To me, they’re the lowest form. They’re right up there with rapists, snitches and child molesters.” “You can stop this shit now! I already know what this is about! You came here for some get-back ‘cause me and my boy hit that spot of yours. Yeah, mothafucka, we hit it and what?” Melvin spat angrily. His eyebrows sloped and his nose scrunched up. His jaws were clenched so tight that his bone structure showed. “What the fuck are you gone do about it?” “That’s right, pop! Fuck these mothafuckaz!”Tiaz roared with spit flying from off his lips. “Show ‘em how we cut, we ain’t scared of shit! We Petties, Petties, mothafuckaz! Petties!” He looked around at all of the men that posed threats to him and his father. “Shut the fuck up, lil’ nigga!” Savino smacked Tiaz upside the back of his dome with the butt of his gun. The young nigga winced as his head lurched forward. Burgundy blood ran from the back of his head and slid down
his neck. “Say something else, and I swear before God and heaven I’ma put that ass on mute forever!” Savino threatened, murder dancing in his pupils. His trigger finger was itching and if Tiaz disobeyed him then he was going to blow his head off. “Put cho goddamn hands on my son again and see what happens!” Melvin hollered out to Savino, pointing his finger at him as he held onto something inside of his overcoat’s pocket. “Fuck you gone do, nigga? We got the drop on yo’ monkey ass!” Savino shot back. “Like I said, ‘touch my boy again’ and see what happens!” He threatened with his nostrils flaring and his jaws pulsating. “What chu gone do, pussy?” Savino challenged. “This what the fuck I’m gone do, nigga!” Melvin pulled the grenade from out of his pocket and pulled the pin. He kept a firm grip on its trigger though, so it wouldn’t explode in his hand. He then held the grenade above his head and looked around the room at all of his enemies. All of them niggaz were looking shook except Cordell. As soon as he whipped the grenade out their asses panicked and their hearts thudded inside of their chests. They took a cautious step back. They wanted to open fire on him, but they feared he’d drop the grenade and blow all their asses up. “I don’t see you popping all of that shit now! Now y’all scared! Yeah, yeah,yeah, look at all yo’ pathetic asses! Either y’all let go of my boy or we all going up in here!” “Yo’, Cordell, what do we do now? This mothafucka kamikaze!” Savino said to his boss as he held his .9mm to the back of Tiaz’ dome. “Yeah, boss, this nigga’z loco, we should fall back!” One of the other men said. “Nah, we not falling back for a goddamn thang,” Cordell told his men. Although he was speaking to them, his eyes were focused on Melvin. “This asshole ain’t gone do shit, as long as we have his boy. He loves him too much; I can see the shit all in his eyes. Ain’t that right, Melvin? You love your boy, don’t chu? You don’t want anything to happen to him,” he took a pull from his Black & Mild and blew out a smoke ring. “Don’t push me, man!” Melvin tilted his head to the side and looked at him like I’m warning you, I’ll do it. “You have been pushed. Now put the pin back into the grenade before I have Savino there put one in the back of your boy’s thinking cap. You got until the count of three, and not a second more,” he warned him as he continued to suck on the end of his Black & Mild and smoke wafted around him. “One...” he began his countdown. “You think shit is a game, man? I’ll blow us all to smithereens, play with me if you want to!” “Two,” Cordell said casually, keeping his eyes on Melvin. He carried on nonchalantly, as if he didn’t have anything to worry about. Melvin looked to his son. He could tell that he was fearful now, but he was still showing his heart like he always had. “Do it, pop, do it! I ain’t scared to die, I wanna see momma anyway.” Tiaz told his father, looking him square in the eyes. His heart was beating hard and he was nervous. But his old man had always told him to show his nuts when confronted with fear. When Kimberly came to mind, Melvin realized then that he couldn’t go through with his plans of suicide. He reminisced about the times he spent with his wife while she was pregnant. He also recalled his raising Tiaz from a baby to the teenage boy that he was today. It was at that time that he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t set the grenade off. “Three!”

  “Wait! Hold up,” Melvin raised his hand up to stop Savino from blowing Tiaz’ head off, “I give up, I surrender.” He held the grenade before Cordell’s eyes and pushed the pin back into it. He then tossed it over to him. He caught it and tossed it up and down in his palm, treating it as if it were a baseball. “Like I said, ‘you love ‘em too much,’”Cordell sat the grenade down on the coffee table and signaled his men over to Melvin. Melvin raised his hands into the air as the men approached him, holding up their AKs as they gripped them with both of their hands. The first man to reach Melvin slammed the stock of his AK into his stomach, knocking the window out of him and doubling him over. Before he knew it, the other man that had approached with him, knocked him in his temple with the butt of his AK. The impact from the blow caused his eyes to roll into the back of his head. He went slamming to the floor on the side of his face. Seeing him barely conscious, the men kicked, stomped and slammed the butts of their assault rifles into his body violently. “Leave ‘em alone! Leave ‘em alone, you bitch ass niggaz!” Tiaz hollered out to the men as they did a number on his father. He didn’t dare to get up because Savino was still behind him and he knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. While Melvin was getting the beating of his life, Cordell busied himself getting undressed. He removed his porkpie hat and his overcoat, lying them down on the arm of the couch. Bending down, he picked up a tool box and sat it down upon the coffee table. Opening it, he removed a hammer and a box of nails, which he smacked down on the coffee table beside the tool box. Next, he took out a roll of duct tape and sat it down beside the tool box.

  “You’re dead, all of you niggaz, you hear me? You’re dead!” Tiaz promised with tears treading down his cheeks. It hurt him to see niggaz pummel his old man like that knowing that he was powerless to stop them. “Didn’t I tell you earlier to shut the fuck up, nigga?” Savino smacked him upside the back of the head with the butt of his .9mm again, lurching him forward. Tiaz winced and leaned his head aside. That’s when Savino stepped in front of him and beat him in the face with the butt of his weapon, turning its handle crimson. “I bet cho ass won’t say nothing else.” Savino wiped the handle of his gun off with the end of Tiaz’ shirt and stepped over to Melvin, getting his lick in on him as well. “Alright, fellas, that’s enough. Get ‘em to his feet and plant ‘em into a chair beside his kid,” Cordell gave his men orders as he stood at the center of the floor holding a hammer and a box of nails. He watched as his men placed Melvin in a chair beside Tiaz. He then ordered them to duct tape him and his son’s ankles to the legs of their respective chairs. Once they were done, he ordered them to turn on the stereo and hold Melvin’s wrists down. With that having been done, Cordell stepped to his business. He sat the box of nails on Melvin’s lap and took out a few nails. He placed a few of the nails into his mouth and placed one at the center of Melvin’s hand. Cordell was about to drive the first nail through Melvin’s hand, but first, he looked up at him to see was he aware about what was going to take place. When he saw Melvin’s eyes rolled to their whites and his head bobbing about, he concurred that he didn’t have a clue as to what was about to happen. Perfect! Holding the nail against the center of Melvin’s hand, Cordell raised his hammer and brought it down with all of his might. Cling!

  “Aahhhhh!” Melvin threw his head back and screamed aloud, showcasing all of the teeth inside of his mouth. His eyelids peeled far open from the sensational pain he was experiencing. Cling! “Aaahhhh!” Cling! Cling! Cling! “Aahhhh!” Cling! Cordell stood up and tilted his head from side to side, taking in the first nail that he’d driven through Melvin’s hand. Blood oozed out of the top of his hand where the wound was made and rolled between his fingers. The blood met underneath the armrest and dripped to the floor. “Okay, on to the next one.” Cordell pressed a nail against Melvin’s other hand as he continued to holler out in pain in his ear. Cling! Cling! Cling! Melvin’s eyelids eyes stretched further and further open with each strike of the hammer. He wailed at the top of his lungs, feeling the sharp nail being drove through his flesh. Cling! Cling! Cling! Cling! Cordell stood back up after driving the nail through Melvin’s other hand. He observed his handiwork and watched blood drip from the hand onto the floor. He then looked to Tiaz whose head was bowed. He could hear him moaning in pain from the beating he’d taken to the face by Savino’s gun.

  Cordell motioned for his men to hold down Tiaz’ hands. They obliged him and he pressed a nail against the center of his hand. He lifted the hammer and brought it down with all of his might. Cling! “Aahhhhhhh!” Tiaz threw his head back hollering aloud. His eyelids were stretched wide open and his mouth was quaking from him hollering for so long. *** Melvin’s eyelids flickered as he came back to his conscious state. He’d passed out earlier from his hands having been nailed to the armrest of th
e chair that he was sitting in. His hands were throbbing like a mothafucka from the nails that had been embedded in them. Melvin’s head bobbled about as he struggled to look around. He was seeing through blurred vision so he couldn’t quite tell who it was standing before him. Once his vision did come into focus he saw that Cordell was standing on the side of his son, about to lift his .357 Magnum revolver. This scared the hell out of Melvin. His stomach twisted into knots and his heart pounded uncontrollably.

  “Goddamn you, Cordell, don’t chu kill my boy! Don’t chu touch ‘em!” Melvin shouted from the chair he was bounded to, spittle flying from his lips and his nostrils flaring. He tried to move, but his efforts were useless. His hands were nailed to the armrests of the chair and his ankles were duct-taped to its legs. Also, his face was bloody and bruised. His left eye was swollen shut while the right was narrowed from swelling. His broken nose was double in size and his busted lips caused him to talk funny.

  Cordell held his silver .357 Magnum revolver against Tiaz’ head causing it to bend at an angle. The boy had gotten his issue just as his old man had. His injuries mirrored his own. The blood that had ran from his face and down his neck had stained the collar of his wife beater pink. His eyes were staring out of their corners and his lips were a straight line.

  He knew the risk of the deadly game he and his old man were playing, but he was still scared to die. His pop’s made sure he was well aware of the graveyard risks they were taking and he agreed to go along with them.

  With that in mind, Tiaz decided he wasn’t about to tuck his nuts in the face of death. Nah, fuck that, he was going to let them hang.

  Cordell looked from Tiaz to Melvin wearing a devilish grin as he held that steel to the side of his melon. He got a kick out of watching the older man beg for the life of his son.