Moses Scriptures

by Hannibal Black

  I pulled onto my mother’s street and drove slowly up the block. I pulled into the driveway next to Melody’s Honda.

  The flowers my mother had planted all around the house were noticeably vibrant.

  The house was a lot smaller than I remember growing up.

  The door was open, but I knocked anyway.

  “Who is it?” Melody shouted angrily to give any unwelcome visitor second thoughts.

  “It’s Moses”

  She didn’t answer back.

  I walked in and saw a room full of boxes and almost everything packed up.

  There were no pictures on the wall there weren’t any dishes in the sink the house was utterly bare it seemed as hollow spiritually as it was physically.

  Melody was packing up everything. She was in the front room sweeping and sweating like a mad woman.

  Melody looked over at me with a straight face “Moses, take out those trash bags behind you.”

  It was like hearing my mother’s voice.

  I didn’t even hesitate. I picked the trash up and took it outside.

  The whole thing felt strange. It was like I knew my mother was gone, but cleaning out the house added more finality to it.

  I walked back into the house and glanced around the room. My head was spinning in a circle of sadness. I wondered when I would stop feeling this way. When would I stop mourning?

  Those were all the questions my mother could answer if she were here. Even after the funeral, the wake, I still couldn’t believe she was gone.

  I went into the front room to see Melody moving a mile a minute taping up boxes and stacking them on top of each other.

  I saw her struggling with one, so I went over and grabbed it before she dropped it.

  Melody looked cross for a moment then said, “Thank you,

  Moses.”

  “No problem, so you’ve been here working hard.”

  Melody didn’t even look up.

  “Yeah, well somebody’s got to do it, work won't do itself.”

  The line was one of our mother’s favorite sayings.

  Melody was starting to become just like her. I smirked and threw

  Melody one of her comebacks.

  “How do you know it won’t, you never give it a chance.”

  Melody gave me a full smile, nodding her head.

  “Yeah, I remember that. Hand me that box over there.”

  I turned to grab the box and noticed a photo album on top.

  I opened it and saw a picture of Melody standing on top of my mother’s Chevy Nova.

  Melody was wearing multicolored bell-bottoms and poncho with beads in her hair and a smile that was missing two front teeth. I began to laugh and got her attention.

  “What are you over there snickering at?” I handed her the photo album.

  “You look like Leon Spinks.” Melody couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny huh?” Melody said, flipping through the album.

  “How about this?”

  She had turned to a picture of me. I had to be maybe ten or eleven. I was sitting in a wicker chair wearing a Members Only racing jacket, in a playboy, pose holding my chin with shoulder length Jheri Curl.

  “How about that Stoney Jackson?”

  I laughed harder than she did.

  We went on looking at pictures comparing embarrassing clothes and hairstyles, but we kept skipping over pictures with our mother.

  I didn’t know if it was because we were afraid of being sad together or what. Ever since our mom died, we hadn’t said a word to each about it except for arguments.

  The more photos we saw of her, the louder the silence became.

  We turned to a photo of our mother holding a newborn Melody.

  Our mother looked young and happy, neither of us said a thing, but we couldn’t turn the page. It was as if she was looking directly at us.

  I turned to Melody.

  “You look exactly like mommy.”

  Melody’s eyes were watering up, and she was shaking her head.

  “I miss her so much.”

  A single teardrop kissed the photograph as she spoke.

  “I miss her too,” I said.

  I put my arm around her and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I wish I could see her just one more time.” Melody sobbed.

  “If I could just see her smile and feel her hugs just one more time, I’d give up everything in this world.”

  I didn’t say a word; I held Melody as her crying turned into a waterfall.

  We spent the rest of the evening reminiscing and wound up not getting to finish all the packing. It was becoming late, and I told Melody that it could wait until tomorrow.

  We closed up a few boxes but left the photo album opened to the same picture.

  I said goodbye to Melody then headed to Slim’s to catch up with

  Priest.

  I parked a few blocks away and walked over.

  I didn’t see Priest’s Cadillac anywhere, but I did spot a white Nissan Pathfinder accessorized in chrome.

  As I walked into the bar, I saw that Priest’s booth was empty. I hoped he wasn’t still with Tasha.

  Dimples walked by smiling holding a tray full of drinks.

  “Have you seen Priest or Slim?”

  She was having a hard time with the tray and answered me while walking away.

  “I haven’t seen Priest. Slim’s in his office.”

  I took a seat at Priest’s booth and waited a while then decided to go to the office and prime Slim for Priest’s proposal.

  I walked to the office and knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Slim asked.

  “Moses.”

  I heard a few more voices coming from the room. Slim opened the

  door.

  “Hey, what’s up to young bruh, what you need? Is everything all right?”

  I saw Rico and Steele sitting on the sofa, looking over some papers.

  “Have you seen Priest?” I said with urgency.

  “No, why? What’s wrong?” Slim said with a look of concern. “What are you doing? You haven’t sold the bar yet have you?” Slim’s eyes filled with suspicion.

  “What are you talking about Moses? I’m about to sign right now.” “You can’t!” I said loud enough for Rico and Steele to hear.

  They lifted their heads out of the papers and were now looking at me.

  “Just let me have a few words with you, Uncle Slim.” I was pulling out all the stops now.

  “Hey Slim you ready to finish this up?” Rico said with extra bass in his voice.

  “Give me a minute,” Slim said stepping into the hallway shutting the door behind him.

  We walked halfway down the hall. Slim put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Let's hear it Moses, what are you talking about?”

  I tried to conjure up child-like sadness in my eyes to play on his

  sensibilities.

  “Priest and I have been trying to get a hold of you to make a counteroffer.”

  Slim seemed exasperated as he was shaking his head eyes peering at the ceiling.

  “Moses, I am moments away from signing. Do you realize the situation you're putting me in, I’ve been fucking with this underworld thing for thirty years, dancing with the devil. The only reason I haven’t been burned in the inferno or became some memory that dudes pour out liquor for is that this whole time I’ve been a cat who gives his word and keeps it.”

  Slim was glaring into my eyes.

  “You know that I love you two like sons. But I can’t break my word for that. Love has destroyed as many men as hate.”

  Slim's face was desperately hoping for my understanding.

  “Hey look everything Bird, and I taught you two wasn’t for you to get some hollow street fame, it was for your survival, and to do that you’ve got to be able to accept change. You understand me?”

  I understood perfectly. I just wished Priest were there to hear it. I thought about arguing th
e point and stall till Priest got there. But I was beginning to feel like it was years ago and I was pouting and begging him to take Priest and me to the movies or buy us candy.

  I felt a sense of shame. Here was one of the men who taught me how to be a man and here I was begging him like a little boy. I straightened up my shoulders, and before I turned to him, I tried to erase any look of resentment on my face.

  “Yeah, Slim I understand, you’re right.”

  Slim took out his toothpick and smiled at me, patted me on the back and headed back to his office.

  I walked over to Priest’s booth and sat down. I was starting to feel like I fucked up like I gave up too quickly.

  Dimples came over flashing her sunshine smile.

  “Hey friendly, what ya’ drinking?”

  This seedy place sure hadn’t sanitized her spirit.

  “I don’t care, you pick. Just whatever it makes it a double.”

  I was watching her slip away when I noticed Priest coming through the door. He was receiving his salutations from his number playing patrons. I was glad to see that Tasha wasn’t with him. His face had the glow it usually has after copping the ego fix at the door.

  But when he saw the way I looked his face faded to puzzled, dissolved to shock, and then exploded in outrage.

  “What did you do?” you didn’t talk to him without me did you?”

  “I did.”

  “What!”

  “Priest, Rico, and Steele are back there; they’re about to sign right now.”

  Priest raced toward the office and barged in on the meeting.

  I ran back there to stop him, but it was too late.

  Rico and Steele had their pistols drawn by the time I got there. Slim had his hands in the air like it was a raid.

  Priest was breathing hard.

  “Slim I gotta talk to you, right now!” Priest shouted.

  Slim’s shoulders slumped, and he was pissed. His eyes focused on me. He started out the door. Then Steele shouted, “What the fuck is this shit!”

  Priest turned his head, quick, and snarled at Steele.

  “Mind your fucking business!”

  Steele looked bewildered by the disrespect. He stood up, but Rico grabbed him and slowly sat him back down. Slim closed the door behind him. Priest started talking right away.

  “Don’t sell, Slim. Whatever they’re talking about, I’ll double it.

  Keep it in the family Slim.”

  Slim was still looking at me. He was grinding his teeth then threw his toothpick to the ground.

  “I’m not going through this shit again. Life is about change Priest; you gotta grow up and get on.” Slim said.

  Priest’s face didn’t hide any resentment. He was looking betrayed.

  “That’s fucked up Slim; you won’t even give me a chance at it.

  Uncle Bird would have at least given me a chance.”

  Slim’s anger now was transforming to a look of pity toward Priest.

  We started to look like two kids who can’t accept that no means no. I understood where Slim was coming from; in his world going against your word could mean giving up your life.

  “Look, Priest, I’ll talk to him for you,” Slim said.

  “No, you don’t! I’m not asking them for shit!” Priest said with a crazed look in his eyes.

  I thought Priest was going to take a swing at Slim. I almost grabbed him. Slim seemed to have had the same idea; he looked betrayed, he attempted a smile but couldn’t.

  “Why don’t you dudes go have a drink and go cool off?”

  Priest was staring at the ground, nostrils flaring; I patted him on the shoulder.

  “Come on man, let’s get a taste.”

  Priest reluctantly followed me to the booth. We took a seat and Dimples brought over my drink; I told her to bring over some whiskey.

  “Don’t be pressed about that shit Priest; they can’t hold us down.

  These people don’t bet with the bar they bet with you. Shit they can

  Go to the bar anytime; half these muthafuckas need be at home anyway.”

  Priest gave a half smirk.

  Dimples came over with his drink.

  “Why are you two looking like somebody died.” Dimples said smiling and then frowning realizing she was naïve.

  “I’m sorry, nobody died, did they?”

  “No, nobody died, sis.” Priest said then downed his double of whiskey like it was water.

  Dimples looked at me like Priest’s neck had swiveled like the Exorcist.

  Priest turned his glass upside down on the table.

  “I’m going to need more than that, sis.”

  Dimples shot me a look of concern; I nodded to let her know it was all right.

  “Another double coming up.” Dimples mumbled as she walked back to the bar.

  “I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do; I can’t believe Slim.

  Uncle Bird is probably rolling over in his grave seeing how Slim is betraying us.”

  I didn’t feel betrayed. I was trying to decide if I should let Priest get it off his chest or say something to stop his growing resentment.

  “Man you don’t know how close I came to punching the shit outta him.” Priest said like he had missed hitting the Lotto by one number.

  Now I was looking at him like he needed an exorcist. Slim had done so much for us how could he possibly think like that.

  Dimples came over with Priest’s second round of whiskey; it was indeed a generous double.

  She set the glass down in front of him and stood and watched like he was a circus act. She didn’t think he’d do it again.

  Priest didn’t pay her attention and staged a repeat performance.

  Dimples’ eyebrow shot up, and her lips blew a silent whistle. “Gimme another round baby girl.”

  “Okay,” Dimples said with hesitation on her way back to the bar. Priest slumped in his seat and stared off into space.

  “Selling the bar to these muthafuckas man, you know what I don’t give a fuck I should burn this muthafucka down.”

  The whiskey was starting to kick in. “You think Slim is wrong, right?”

  My silence and the sauce had him questioning my loyalties.

  I thought about just agreeing with him, let him get everything off his chest, but this was my guy, and I felt like I owed him the truth.

  “He’s not wrong, I agree to fuck this spot, but I think we gotta let the past be the past.”

  I sounded like a politician. I hoped I had done my best to seem fair. Priest was looking at me like I had been looking at him moments earlier.

  “So whatcha saying,” Priest asked with suspicion.

  Now, this was the tricky part, to find the right response, I felt like I was easing my foot off of a land mine.

  “All I’m saying is its Slim’s bar regardless of what we wanna do with it. The final decision is his and we gotta live with it.”

  Dimples had just brought over Priest’s third double. She walked away before he could ask for another.

  “Oh, so you're on his side ugh?”

  “I’m not taking sides; I’m just telling you how I see it.”

  Priest downed the whiskey a second slower than the first two.

  “You know what? Fuck you all! I'm not trying to hold on to the past

  I’m trying to preserve the present.”

  “But Priest, that ends up being the same thing.”

  Priest shook his head and waved his hand over his face.

  All of a sudden he straightened up his shoulders, put his hand in his waistband, which I knew meant he was going for his pistol. My assumption confirmed by the sound of the hammer cocking.

  I looked in the mirror on the other side of the room. I saw Rico and Steele were coming out of the office heading towards the booth.

  “Keep talking.” Priest said with a slight smile on his face.

  I made a casual hand gestured and talked about nothing wondering what his plan was.

  Was he goin
g to open fire or was he trying to get the drop just in case they wanted trouble?

  Just as they were about to pass Priest looked up. He didn’t snarl at them. He was expressionless.

  Steele’s face was identical; Rico was wearing a quizzical smirk.

  “Priest,” Rico said like he hadn’t seen him in a year.

  “How you been, man?”

  Priest was still expressionless. “Good.”

  And that was it.

  Priest uncocked his pistol and sat back, although there was no shoot-out, I wasn’t relieved.

  Neither side wanted to tip their hand, but there was tons of animosity hidden behind the poker faces. Priest and Rico were one in the same, well-schooled in surviving the game, both masters at balancing tyranny and diplomacy.

  At that moment an invisible line had been drawn.

  They had begun a chess match with fatal checkmates, from that point every move would have to be analyzed and countered correctly for survival.

  August 15, 1996

  I had been at the gym for about an hour and hadn’t seen any signs of Mrs. Wilkes or Marcus. I was trying to get a workout in when I heard someone behind me, “Hey how are you today?”

  It was the same velvet voice that I had played over and over in my tape recorder. I turned to see Mrs. Wilkes smiling. She had a windbreaker top wrapped around her waist and tiny beads of sweat caressing her brow.

  “I’m good, how are you?” I answered, trying to be curt and business-like.

  “Oh, I’m…. Fine.” Her words staggered out.

  She was taken back by the sharpness of my response.

  She turned, walked away then turned back. She was gorgeous. My eyes beamed like headlights into her soft doe stare.

  “I don’t mean to disturb you, but my trainers not here today. I was wondering if you could spot me in the free weight room.” She said smiling.

  I stood there having a debate with my common sense.

  “No problem,” I said getting rid of my previous tone of voice.

  “Good.” Mrs. Wilkes smiled.

  We marched out of the Nautilus room. To the bench press, she went, which was holding forty-five-pound plates on each side. I got behind the bench to spot her when she reached out to shake my hand.