“You know what the fuck I’m talking about,” he shouts aggressively.
“Hold up youngen. Who the fuck are you talking to?”
That really makes him go crazy. “I’m talking to you motherfucker!” he cries. Foam drips from the corner of his lips. I walk toward him. I’ve been waiting for this.
I reach out for him. He quickly draws a gun from under his white, oversized T-shirt. I slowly back away from him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask.
“You know what this is about,” he shouts. “Stop acting stupid!”
I’m watching him carefully. He’s acting like a madman. He backs me up all the way to my car. I’m towering over him. His face only comes to my chest. He’s looking up at me as he talks. Everytime he yells, slob drips from his mouth. Tears are pouring down his face. He’s mad about me taking all his customers.
He comes at me. “I thought you didn’t want Desire no more!” he shouts.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you and Desire! You said you were happily married! Why are you trying to fuck us up? It’s your fault she don’t want me no more! We was fine until you came home popping that dumb shit, whispering in her ear!”
“You got the game fucked up. I don’t want Desire!”
“Then why are you playing with her then? You leading her on!”
“I ain’t leading her on.
“Motherfucker, I saw you!”
“You saw me what?” I ask.
Now he’s furious. He aims his gun at my head. “Get that gun out my face!”
“Motherfucker, I saw ya’ll in the house that morning; hugging and shit!” he cries. “She was butt ass naked!”
I replay that day in my head. He saw us hugging and then he ran off the porch. “Ice, it wasn’t what you thought,” I explain.
“So, now I’m stupid! You saying, she wasn’t naked?”
“Y, yeah,” I stutter. “She was naked, but we weren’t doing anything. We were just talking.”
“Stop lying motherfucker!”
“I ain’t lying,” I mumble.
“Ooh! Stop lying!” He covers his ears like he doesn’t want to hear anymore.
Of all the days to be without my gun. Please Slim, please come out and stop him.
I turn my head slightly toward the porch and, Boom! My ears start to ring. “Aghh!” The impact of the bullet caves my chest in. Boom!
He fires again. This one crashes into my forehead, causing the back of my head to bang into the roof of the car. I tumble over face first onto the concrete.
As I peek up, I see him jumping in his truck. He speeds off recklessly. Aghh! The pain is unbearable. The blood is pouring down my face. I can barely see. My chest is pounding.
“Daddy!” Ahmad cries.
“No! No!” Desire screams, at the top of her lungs. She takes off up the stairs.
Suddenly, there’s no more pain. Everything is dark now. I can’t see shit. I can hear everything, but I can’t see. Inhale, exhale. I can barely breathe. It feels like my chest is closing up on me.
“Wake up, Big Time!” That’s Slim. “Wake up baby!” Slap! He’s slapping my face. “Big Time, who did this to you?” I can’t answer him. I feel both of my sons holding each of my hands.
“Breathe, Big Time!” Slim shouts. “You gotta breathe.”
Inhale, exhale………inhale, exhale.
“Breathe!” Slim shouts. “Big Time, give me a sign. Tell me who did this to you!”
“I, I,” I stutter. I can’t manage to tell him.
“Who?” he asks.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they won’t come out. Please don’t let this motherfucker get away. I can’t believe this punk motherfucker shot me.
“Breathe, Big Time!”
Inhale, exhale. I’m fading in and out.
“Wake up, Big Time, wake up! The ambulance is on their way.”
I feel like I’m about to die. Please, I can’t go out like this. Please don’t let this punk get this off on me.
“Big Time, please! Wake up! Tell me who did this to you,” he cries.
Inhale, exhale.
“Cash, you have to breathe!”
Inhale, exhale. I’m fading out again.
“Breathe!”
“I can’t.” I manage to mumble.
“You have to!” he shouts. “Big Time, you can’t die! You have too much to live for! You got a beautiful wife and two boys who need you! Breathe!”
Inhale, exhale.
“Love is at the altar waiting for you! You can’t die, she waiting for you!” he shouts. “Breathe baby!”
Inhale, exhale. I can’t die. Love is at the altar waiting for me. I have to prove her sister and her mother wrong. Inhale, exhale. My sons need me. Without me, they’re headed for destruction.
“Breathe, Big Time! You’re fading out on me! You gotta breathe,” he shouts.
“I, I.” I don’t have any breath left.
“Big Time, wake up! Please don’t die on me like this,” he cries.
I shake my head to tell him I can’t breathe.
“Daddy, you have to breathe!” Ahmad screams.
I shake my head no.
“Daddy, you can do it!” he shouts. “You can do it!”
I can’t let my boys see me go out like this. I’m going out like a sucker.
“Daddy, you the man!” they both scream.
Inhale, exhale.
“You the man,” they repeat.
I have to pull this through.
“Breathe, Big Time!”
Inhale, exhale.
DONALD? DONALD?
Someone is calling me.
DONALD?
Oh no, it’s the Angel of Death. Go away! I’m not answering! Go away! Please God, don’t let him take me. Love is waiting for me. Inhale, exhale. My boys need me. They can’t grow up without a father. They’ll turn out just like me.
DONALD? DONALD?
Go away! Please God, if you get me out of this one, I swear I’ll change my life around.
DONALD?
“Bang Man, you gotta breathe!” Slim shouts.
“Daddy, you the man! You the man, Daddy!”
Inhale, exhale.
DONALD?
I envision my first day of school.
DONALD?
Go away! Please God!
“Big Time, breathe!”
Inhale, exhale. I remember sitting on my grandpa’s lap.
DONALD?
“Breathe, Big Time!”
“Come on Daddy! Please, Daddy! Don’t die,” Ahmad begs.
I envision my first day of high school.
“Daddy, we need you! Breathe!”
Inhale, exhale.
“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” Slim screams.
I remember holding my first gun.
“Breathe! You gotta breathe!”
DONALD?
Inhale, exhale. My 21st birthday.
DONALD?
Big Ma just baked me a cake.
“Breathe!”
Inhale, exhale. I’m at the Benz dealer with Desire. Inhale, exhale. I’m riding with Love. Inhale, exhale. I just witnessed Ahmir being born.
DONALD?
Ahmad is just born.
“Breathe!”
DONALD?
Please God, don’t let him take me. I promise I’ll change. Please!
“Breathe!”
Inhale, exhale.
“Daddy, you the man!”
Me and Love just got married.
DONALD?
They’re letting me out of the gates of prison.
DONALD? DONALD?
I’m not answering you! Go away!
“Come on, Big Time, you’re fading on me.”
Inhale, exhale. I just met Juan. Inhale, exhale. I’m at the Benz dealer again.
“Come on, Daddy!”
Latif just killed the young kid.
“Breathe!”
> Me and Love are at the caterer.
DONALD?
“Breathe, Big Time! Breathe!”
Inhale, exhale. We’re getting fitted for the tuxedos. Inhale, exhale. I’m shooting at Junebug’s car.
“Come on Daddy!” Whoop! Whoop!
Here comes the ambulance. I gotta make it! Inhale, exhale.
“Come on Big Time, don’t give up now.”
DONALD?
Get out of here! Inhale, exhale. I’m watching my son’s championship game.
“Daddy, you the man!”
“Come on, Big Time!”
The cop just asked me to step out of the car. Inhale, exhale. I just served my man. Inhale, exhale.
DONALD?
“Come on, Big Time!” Slim begs. “Tell him ya’ll love him! Tell him how much ya’ll need him! Tell him to breathe!”
“Daddy breathe,” Ahmir cries. “We love you Daddy, you can’t die.”
Inhale, exhale. There’s Ice. Inhale, exhale. He just squeezed.
“Breathe!” Slim shouts. “These boys need a father. You can’t die on them like this!”
DONALD?
“Daddy, please don’t die!” Ahmad begs. “We need you Daddy! Please don’t die!” Ahmir begs.
Inhale, exhale.
“Daddy, you the man! Say it Daddy! Say I’m the man!”
Inhale, “I, I, I’m the………….
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to all my brothers just coming home or on their way home from doing multiple-year sentences.
It’s a new day. The young jacks have taken over. The same young jacks that used to admire you as their mothers escorted them to the corner store ten years ago.
Some you may have acknowledged; some you may have overlooked. But now the tables have turned. Now they control the streets. It’s their turn! Let them do them. Don’t stand in the way.
You may feel that you’ve paid your dues. You may feel the hood owes you something, and your pride won’t let you get out of the way. But guess what. They have their pride too. But what’s scarier is they have the same cold heart and the same I-don’t-care attitude you had 20 years ago.
The only difference is they aren’t playing by the same rules you used to play by. The old rule book you live your life by has been discarded and rewritten. The new rule book doesn’t teach code or honor. There’s no more loyalty.
Don’t come home trying to change the game. Either you learn how to play by their rules, or don’t play the game at all!
Peace, and stay up!!!!!!
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I have to thank God for keeping me focused long enough to produce another book.
Second, I would like to thank my entire hood for supporting me. I can’t go into a list of names, because I’ll be writing forever, but if you have supported me in any way, I’m thanking you. Whether you have purchased a book, read someone else’s book, recommended the book to someone, or even hated on the book, it’s all-good. Thank you!!!
I also would like to thank my friends and my family for keeping me motivated. Big shot out to TLE Variety on Central Avenue and Keystone Variety on South Orange Avenue. Thank you for introducing “No Exit” to the hood.
Big up to Friend or Foe Entertainment, thanks for the help. This ya’ll year. Take that label to the next level.
Special shot out to Maria Holloway. Thanks for the information you gave me to get this whole ordeal started. Mikell Davis (author of Black Mafia) may God continue to reward you, As Salaamu Alaikum!!!!
In addition, I would like to thank all of my readers. If I could thank each of you one by one, trust me I would. I’m glad you’re feeling me!
Danny, what up? Raul, it’s been a few years now and I still haven’t received my 36 team jersey. You and Rally have to talk to them cats ya’ll need to change 36 to 37, you feel me?
Fajr, look at Daddy, I’m doing it! I love you!
XOXOXO
Author’s Comments
Way too many prisoners of war doing lifetime bids.
Way too many fallen soldiers, killed on front line.
Way too many brokenhearted mothers mourning over the loss of their children.
Way too many widows holding onto memories of their husbands.
Way too many bastards left after the tragedy, left to defend themselves in this cold world.
Wake up people. We gotta do something different!!!!!
R.I.P. SHELDON DEAS
November 20, 1972 – October 24, 2003
On October 24, 2003 I lost a very dear friend of mine to a tragic accident. I’m asking all my readers to keep the Deas family in your prayers.
Sha- Sheldon, this tragedy caught us all by surprise. In between the short time span from No Exit-Block Party, we lost a member of the squad. I never got a chance to thank you for your support in this book venture. I took you for granted. I thought I would be able to show you my gratitude once the project developed and became a success. No matter where I needed to be, all I had to do was pick up the phone, and you would be there almost instantly. We would pile up in the truck, pack the boxes in the back, and we were on the road. You knew the roads like the back of your hand. I never heard you say, ‘You didn’t know how to get to a particular place.’
I just want to say thank you.
You hold it down up there and we’ll hold it down on this end, then when it’s all over and we all meet up again, we’ll put everything in one pot; just like we used to, back in the day.
Rest in Peace my nigga.
P.S. I know you’re in Paradise. You knew how to get every place else. I know you had to find your way there. Just make sure you hold us some seats. We’d hate to get all the way there and get turned around at the gate because it’s too crowded, and there aren’t any more seats. Hide a few chairs somewhere!
One Love!!!!!
Block Party Page 25