From Innocence to Arrogance

by Ezekiel King

  I respected B though, because when I looked him in his eyes, it was like looking in the mirror. “Cyrus, you know what, mate; if you listen to me and work how you should work, we will become best friends and make a lot of money together. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think that. I’ll see you tomorrow, my friend,” B said as he shut his car door and started his engine.

  I watched him put his reading glasses back on and drive slowly out of my street. B had given me a lot to think about. He had said cocaine was the way forward, the problem with this was that I didn’t know much about cocaine. I had chosen to sell weed because it was something I did know about. All in all, my meeting with B had gave me a lot of things to deliberate and not of lot of time to make decisions. No longer prepared to stand in the middle of the street thinking about how I was going to sell cocaine; or if I was going to sell cocaine, I decided to put the whole thing to the back of my mind for the time being. After all, whatever would be would be.

  The insult of Jason sleeping with my auntie was something I was not prepared to put on the shelf. Jason hadn’t even called me to explain, or at least try to offer some sort of apology. I stood outside my house and devised a plan to teach this piece of shit a lesson. “Daniel, come outside the house please and bring a big kitchen knife,” I said as my big brother answered the phone.

  “Are you out there now?” my brother, Daniel, asked.

  “Yes, I am, and bring a big kitchen knife with you,” I said as if I was telling him to bring a cigarette out.

  “Okay, two minutes,” Daniel said before hanging up. I loved Daniel; he was always ready to do whatever is needed to be done. The fact he hadn’t even asked what the knife was for made me smile as I put the phone back in my pocket.

  Daniel walked out of the gate with no knife visible in his hands as he scanned the surrounding area as he said, “Are you good, Cyrus?” Daniel said as he continued to scan our surrounding area.

  “Yes, I’m good,” I replied as I approached Daniel to talk to him. My body language told my brother that the threat was not in close proximity to where we were standing.

  "What do you want the knife for? Daniel asked realising we were the only two people in our deserted street.

  “Come with me, I will show you exactly what I want the knife for,” I said as I pressed the ‘unlock button’ on the car’s fob in my hand.

  My brother and I got into the car. I sat in the driver seat and reversed before starting off out of our estate. I drove slowly, giving the road my full attention as I explained exactly what Jason had done to disrespect me. “I need to set an example,” I told my six-foot brother who sat in the passenger seat. People stared at us as, mainly because the car drew people’s eyes towards it and partly because we were two ‘black guys’, in tracksuits, driving a red rally car. We definitely looked like drug-dealers. We arrived back on Jason and my Auntie Delma’s road ten minutes later, and I parked the car outside Jason’s house, being careful not to scuff my alloys on the high kerb. Daniel had agreed with me that Jason had taken a step well over the line. When he had got in the car, he had taken the kitchen knife out of his waistband and put it on the floor at his feet. I slid my phone back out of my pocket to call Jason. The car was grumbling quietly as the phone rang in my ear.

  “Cyrus,” Jason said as he answered before the phone call almost went to answer phone.

  “Jason, come outside your house. I want to have a chat with you,” I said calmly and in an attempt to disguise the fact I wasn’t happy with him. Having still not admitted his guilt, anything other than compliance would have proven his guilt, little did Jason know, he had already been found guilty by me in his absence; and the reason I was here was to carry out his sentence.

  “Is everything all right?” Jason asked in the hope I would give him some insight into the reason for my unannounced visit.

  “Yes, of course, come outside; and I’m parked in a red rally car,” I said before cutting the phone off before Jason started digressing any further.

  Daniel and I sat outside Jason’s house with the engine running for a full five minutes before we saw the door open. Jason appeared from the doorway in a blue tracksuit that made him look skinny. He looked like a man that had a lot of stress on his shoulders; and little did he know, he had good reason for it. Jason walked to my car and made eye contact with me. I gave him a nod to acknowledge him. I wanted him to feel at ease enough to get into my car, which he did.

  “Are you okay, lads? Is this your new car, Cyrus?” Jason asked seemingly bubbly and cheerfully.

  “Yes! Do you like it?” I said as I started to pull off from outside Jason’s house.

  “Cyrus, I can’t leave here now. I’m waiting for somebody,” Jason said as the car started to move. It was his attempt to stay in his comfort zone. My brother hadn’t said a word to him. Daniel had just sat there without moving an inch, listening and observing.

  “I will bring you back in two minutes. I only wanted to take you around the block in my new car,” I said convincingly.

  “Oh, okay then,” Jason agreed as I pulled off. I didn’t turn the car around. Instead, I drove straight down Jason’s street, then turned off the street into the section of a small car park that had garages in a row, facing more garages.

  I stopped the car and pulled the handbrake up.

  “One sec,” I said as I got out, not wanting Jason to try and run away. As I got out, so did my brother after picking up the big, shiny kitchen knife out of view of Jason. We were out of the front seats and standing either side of the two backdoors, with them open, faster than you can say ‘that was very fast’. Jason’s eyes widened as his whole body filled with terror and fear.

  “Cyrusssss,” Jason stuttered.

  “Shut your fucking mouth! You little prick, you think you can shag my auntie and get away with it?” My face was scrunched up with anger, and now I was practically snarling at him.

  “Cyrus, please,” Jason said again as he raised his hands to protect himself from whatever assault we were going to launch against him. I was leaning into the back seat of my car with my fist clenched, filled with rage. He had his back to my brother, but more against the back of the seat; and his face looked like he was close to bursting into tears.

  “Get this rat out of my car, Daniel,” I said as I looked over the roof at my brother. My brother reached in viciously and grabbed him by his neck and jumper and ripped him out of the car, like he was a rag doll. By the time Jason was out of the car, I was already around the car. I ran around the car to find Jason’s face exposed by his attempt to stop Daniel from strangling him as he pulled him from the car. I punched Jason as hard as I could in the nose with my right hand. I felt the bone crack in his face as he winced in pain and groaned. I punched him three or four more times as hard as I could until he lay on the floor trying to protect himself.

  “Cyrus, please stop, please,” Jason pleaded while he curled up in a ball on the floor. Hearing Jason speak only intensified my anger as I kicked him hard in the face. His hands were in front of his face, but it still must have been excruciating.

  “Arrgghh,” Jason screamed as my brother stamped on his kidneys as he lay on his side trying to protect his face. I picked up the kitchen knife from the floor and knelt down over Jason. As Jason saw the blade through the gap between his hands in front of his face, I looked into his eyes—he was terrified.

  “Cyrus, please don’t, please!” Jason pleaded as he sobbed and begged for his life.

  “Shut your fucking mouth; you ever even look at my auntie again, and we will come back and cut your fucking throat. Either that or we will kick your door off and shoot you and your whole fucking family! Do you understand me?” I said as I held the knife pressed firmly against Jason’s throat.

  “I’m sorry, I won’t, sorry,” Jason sobbed. I stood up and kicked him in the face one last time before saying.

  “Good, you just let me hear you’ve forgotten, and we will come back and fucking murder you!” I threatened as I threw
the knife back into the passenger side and walked around the car to get back into the driver’s seat.

  Jason just lay curled up on the floor as Daniel got back into the car next to me, and I started to drive off. “The cheeky, skinny little twat, I felt like cutting his throat,” I said still angry.

  Daniel laughed as he said, “I thought you were going to at one point,” Daniel said as he sat laughing. I was Daniel’s little brother, but he always found it funny to see me lose it and fuck somebody up. I had never understood why.

  “The only reason I didn’t cut Jason’s throat was because I liked his uncle, otherwise I would have probably stabbed him to death,” I had explained as we drove back the way we had come.

  Three things had been achieved on this Saturday afternoon: one was I had spoken to B, the second was that Jason would no longer think he could sleep with my auntie, like I’m some sort of ‘punk’; and the third thing was I had plucked up the courage to drive my rally car. It drove really well, it cornered well, and it stuck to the road and was genuinely very easy to drive. “Light a cigarette, please, Daniel,” I said as I parked back outside of our house. I turned the key to turn the car off. My hand started to hurt around my knuckles. At least it can’t hurt as much as Jason’s face, I thought to myself as I tried to stretch it off by extending my fingers, then clenching back my fist. I decided to sit back and have a talk with my older brother. I felt like a big weight was off my shoulders. The anger and violence I had just subjected Jason to had relieved so much tension and stress from my body and left me feeling relaxed and content. I still owed Jason for 59 ounces of weed, which came to £8,850. I had intended to pay it tomorrow after Chris and the McBrides finished selling; then I was going to pay my workforce. I wished I hadn’t met Jabber, because keeping the money and not giving it to Jason would have been a surety; but as I knew it was Jabber’s money, it would be in insult to him more than to Jason. It wasn’t fair to punish Jabber for Jason’s actions. This didn’t have to affect my relationship with Jabber unless he wanted it to. In which case, Jabber would get shot, and I would be nearly £9,000 richer, so in a way I hoped that he would be stupid enough to make mine and Jason’s grievances personal.

  I had saved a lot of money up and had a nice car, also I would hopefully be starting a new business venture with B, so what had happened with Jason was not about robbing him—it was about hurting him. For want of something to do, we decided to go for lunch. While my brother and I sat waiting for our food in our local restaurant, my phone rang. I had barely heard it over the noise in the restaurant and Portuguese music playing in the background. “How are you, Jabber?” I said as I answered my phone, not fazed in the least by his phone call. I was ready to play this however he wanted.

  “Cyrus, I’ve just spoken to Jason; he has told me what happened,” Jabber said in his low and slightly scary tone. It didn’t scare me though; I had seen him turn to putty around my father.

  “And?” I replied, as if to say ‘what’s your point?’

  “Jason has told me that you and your brother broke his nose and threatened to cut his throat; what is going on, mate?” Jabber asked not angrily; he was calm as he spoke.

  “Did he tell you I gave him money for you, and he arranged to pick it up from my auntie at a bar, and he’s been sleeping with her?” I asked in an emotionless tone.

  “Yes, he did, and I told him he is bang out of order for that. I just want to know that it’s finished now,” Jabber said, which was as good to me as backing down.

  “Yes, that’s the end of it as long as he doesn’t think he can do it again, and he can delete my number because I don’t want to talk to him anymore,” I said in the same tone I had used since answering my phone. The voice I had used had let Jabber know from the start of our conversation that I wasn’t bothered in any way about him calling me.

  “Yes, I’ll tell him that. He said you’ve got some money for me though?” Jabber said in a way that told me he was anticipating my refusal to pay.

  “Yes, I’ll be finished with what I have tomorrow night, but where am I going to get some more from, now that I’m not talking to Jason?” I asked leaving the ball back in his court as to where we go from here.

  “I will give it to you from now on, if you want? There’s no reason for us to fall out, is there?” Jabber said. I had hoped this is how our conversation would go. It was inevitable that we were going to have to talk, it was just a question of what would be said.

  “Yes, that’s fine with me; and another thing, I’m going to have some cocaine for sale tomorrow. I will show you if you are interested?” I said as I remembered what B had said to me. I liked Jabber; he had spoken to me like an equal. He had spoken to me like I was his age, and he respected me.

  “Okay, if it’s good, I will buy some; and I have a few mates who buy big bits of cocaine, so bring me some to look at tomorrow,” Jabber said.

  “Okay, I will catch up with you tomorrow,” I said before hanging up.

  My brother, Daniel, had sat looking at me to trying to get a feel for how the conversation was going.

  “What did he say?” Daniel asked as he watched me hang up and place the cheap phone on the dark wooden table we were sitting at.

  “Oh, that was that dickhead’s uncle. I like him though, and we do work together. Oh yes, he said we broke that Jason’s nose,” I told Daniel as I smiled and fist pumped him to congratulate a job well done. A thin white guy in a black uniform brought food over. I had ordered us identical meals—half a grilled chicken medium spiced, peri chips and garlic bread with a special mayonnaise dip—it was a well-needed meal after the morning I’d had.

  Being a drug-dealer meant I had started my day later than most. I had my breakfast at lunchtime and lunch at dinnertime, it was nearly 5:00 in the evening, and I was eating my first square meal of the day. Due to the events of the day, I wasn’t particularly hungry as Daniel and I had walked in through the restaurant doors. Having now spoken to Jabber, I sat and got everything off my chest to my brother over dinner; ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’. I allowed myself to talk almost freely to my brother, more so than with Chris. Blood is thicker than water, and the natural bond between siblings made it easy for me to share my thoughts and views with Daniel.

  Expansion was my main issue; by that, I mean increasing my earnings tenfold. I told Daniel, if this Asian guy I’ve met comes through, I’m going to need him to work a lot harder; but for doing so, I would pay him £2,000 a week.

  Chapter 14

  ‘1.2 miles until we reach our destination,’ the satnav that was stuck to the dashboard read. It had been a fairly quick journey, partly because I had told Chris to ‘floor it’, which would throw us back into our bucket seats as Chris accelerated along almost every expanse of open road, and partly because there was little or no traffic on the roads we were travelling down. The motorway had been more or less deserted, which was strange for 5:00 in the afternoon. I guess it was because everybody was in their local pubs getting drunk or sat at their mother’s dinner tables, eating their Sunday lunches. That is exactly where Chris and I would have almost certainly been, had it not been for me telling him he had to make this trip with me. Chris had made his face up a bit when I told him I needed him to drive me to Birmingham, but had changed his tune when I told him I wanted dropping there, and he could drive my car back to Coventry alone.

  “Crash my car, and I will crash your face,” I had told him as he tried not to smile as he knew I wouldn’t be giving him unsupervised access to my car if I had a choice.

  The day had been bright but very cool. It felt more like spring than summer as the air was crisp. We had spent the day having lunch, getting the car cleaned and collecting in all of our money for the weed, ready to pay Jabber when I returned to Coventry. I had asked Chris if he’d be happy to sell cocaine if I got some, and his answer was exactly what I would have expected from the podgy spoilt ‘shithead’.

  “How much money will I make though?” Chris had asked as he stu
ffed his face and smiled. He always made me laugh, always so predictable.

  “At least £2,000 a week if you do a good job; so with selling cocaine and weed, you will be earning £3,000 a week,” I’d explained. I watched as Chris’ brain rushed to do calculations before he looked up at me.

  “Okay, I’m on it,” Chris said with a big smile before giving me a fist pump to signify his sincerity. Birmingham is the second biggest city in England. It is split into different areas, and each area has different types of people that live within them. Some areas are ‘rich and posh’, like ‘Solihull’, and some areas are poor like ‘Chelmsley Wood’. In addition, some areas are filled with predominantly one ethnic group, for example, ‘Alum Rock’ is predominantly an Asian area, whereas, Handsworth is predominantly full of Caribbeans. The area the satnav had brought us to was an area called ‘Aston’. The area has a lot of gun crime in and is mainly occupied by a mixture of blacks and Asians. The satnav was now showing 0.2 miles as we entered streets that seem to be exclusively Asians living within them. I slid my phone out of the pocket of my best jeans and called B.

  “Hi, B, I’m here now. I’m just about to take the last turn onto Normandy Road, I think it’s called,” I explained as I read the screen on the satnav.

  “Yes, Cyrus, drive down that road, and you will see my car parked behind it,” B said before he put the phone down. Chris and I drove slowly up the road to avoid missing the white German hot-hatch due to the amount of cars parked outside of houses on our right and left. The houses were very moderate. They looked like three or four bedroom houses; old brick houses all joined together with the occasional entry every 10 or 20 houses along. We drove halfway along the street before I spotted B’s white car that had been outside my house the day before. As promised, there was a space behind that we pulled into. I began to slide my phone back out of my pocket when the driver’s door of B’s car opened, and B got out of the car. I waved at B and said, “Chris, go back to Coventry, and don’t drive my car fast because if you break it, I will kill you,” I said to Chris as I opened the passenger side door to get out.