King of the Dancehall

by Nick Cannon

“I’m just glad to be out of there.”

  I hugged Maya, careful to keep my hands in respectful places in the presence of her father.

  “And I’m happy to see you,” I said to her.

  She looked at me, her eyes full of affection. “You, too.”

  I lost myself for a moment and leaned forward to kiss her. But, Bishop put his hand in my face, preventing me from going in.

  “You want to go back in that jail? Because I will be happy to join you.”

  I let Maya go, and the three of us headed to the car, finally. I climbed in the back, and Maya sat up front with her father. He had the radio on at a low volume. I was nervous. The last time I had encountered this guy, he wasn’t very pleasant. I hoped to keep the conversation to a minimum. But, the bishop kept grilling me in the rearview mirror. He was staring at me so hard that it felt like he expected me to say something. I cleared my throat.

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate you bailing me out. Jamaican prison is no joke. Thank you, Bishop.”

  The bishop grunted. “Hopefully I nah waste my time.”

  I thought about the way I had cried and prayed myself to sleep last night. Now, here I was riding free with my girl. I had to believe that God had a hand in it.

  “I was starting to lose hope in there,” I said. “Each night I slept with one eye open. And each morning I woke up ready to fight. But, last night I prayed. It was the first time I did it in a very long time. My mama used to try to convince me that it works. But, I never saw the proof. Until today. Last night, I talked to God and poured my heart out. Now, here I am riding in the car with you two.” I shook my head, amazed. “This praying stuff might actually work.”

  Bishop chuckled. “Yes, young man. Maybe the Bible is more than your little tattoos that you have inked all over your body. Which, by the way, is blasphemous.”

  I looked down at all my tattoos peeking out from beneath my tank top. I tried to cover them with my tattered jacket.

  “I don’t know about all of that,” I said, honestly. “Like I told you before, I don’t really read the Bible and all that. I just try to live my life right. And now I’m trying to get myself on the right path.”

  Bishop glanced at me in the mirror again. “The path has always been there for man to walk. It’s just too narrow for cowards and for the weak. The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, Tarzan. Being righteous is a choice. Choose life, young man. Not death.”

  Maya touched his arm, gently. “Papa, it’s Sunday. We already heard your sermon for the day.” She smiled, and it seemed to melt his heart just like it did mine.

  “Maya, you must not run from righteousness. That’s how you get mixed up with the wrong people. Then you beg me for help. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do here. Help your friend.”

  I wondered if he forgot that I was sitting right there and I could hear every word he said. He was talking about me like I was invisible.

  “He has been lost,” he continued. “And my words are like bread crumbs. He’s being fed and led with spiritual food. He’s hungry, Maya! Starving for inspiration.”

  I sat in silence for a while. Finally, I laughed.

  “After being in that cell for so long, I’m so hungry and starving right now for any kind of food. Are we going somewhere to eat?”

  Maya laughed. Her father did not. Bishop shook his head, while she turned up the radio. A commercial was on about the upcoming dance clash at The Jungle.

  For the first time ever, Kingston Rhythm presents the ten-million-dollar dancehall clash! Who will be crowned King of the Dancehall? It’s the ultimate dancehall clash. Dancers from all over the island. Be there! Next Saturday night at The Jungle. Registration begins at 9:00 P.M. This is the ten-million-dollar dancehall clash! Don’t miss it!

  My ears perked up at the sound of that. The truth was, I needed money fast. Farmer was still locked up. So, there was no possibility of getting back on my feet the easy way. For once, I thought I might try to win something the good old-fashioned way. Through all the hard work that Killa and I had been putting in with the All Star Blazers. I glanced at Bishop in the front seat and thought about what he’d just been saying. I was willing to try to go legit. Maybe there was something to this dancehall thing after all.

  Bishop drove me to my place. The closer we got, my adrenaline pumped so high that I thought they could hear my heartbeat in the car. The moment we rounded the corner, though, it was clear that there wasn’t much left to salvage. All of the windows had been knocked out. Glass and debris were everywhere. The front door had been left wide open. I walked inside, stepping on broken glass, and found my clothes burned and much of my stuff missing. I stood for a moment in the silence and let the truth sink in. Everything I had was gone.

  I was angry. But, I pushed my emotions down deep and faced Bishop, standing in the doorway.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ve seen it for myself. We can go now.” I was fighting back tears of rage. The last thing I wanted to do was let one fall in front of Bishop. Or in front of Maya, who was standing behind him. “You can bring me to my cousin’s house, if you don’t mind.”

  Bishop stood looking at me, strangely. Finally, he looked me in the eye and spoke.

  “This was the same scene at your uncle’s restaurant. And it would have been the case at mi daughter’s home. But, thankfully, I was there to intervene.” He shook his head. “You’ve brought a lot of pain to a lot of people, Tarzan.”

  I stared at the man. It felt like he was rubbing salt in my wounds when I was already knocked out.

  Maya stepped forward. “Daddy.” It was all she said. But, it did its job and broke the tension.

  Bishop looked at her. He turned and headed back toward his car. “Okay. Tarzan, let’s go. I will bring you to your cousin’s house now.”

  I looked around one more time, and then followed him and Maya out. Once we got back in the car, I thought about what Bishop might be trying to tell me. It was true. I had brought a lot of pain to a lot of people. But, my intentions had been good. The past few weeks had shown me how dangerously I was living. It was like I had been existing on the side of a cliff and was somehow surprised when I fell over the edge. We rode in silence for a while before any of us said a word. It was me who broke the silence. My mind was racing, desperate for ways to make things right without ever going back to prison again.

  “If I won that dance clash, I could get enough money for me to get my life straight.” I thought about it as I stared out the window. “I would have to split it with the All Star Blazers. But, still, that would be enough to get me on my feet. Help me walk the straight and narrow.”

  I looked at the bishop. He was staring at me in the rearview mirror, hanging on my every word.

  “Maybe it’s time for me to make a righteous step.”

  Bishop smirked. “People willing to reward youths for winding and grinding ’pon each other? Mi nah understand this mind-set.”

  “That’s because you’re old, Daddy.” Maya gave him a wink.

  “The older the moon, the brighter it shines.” Bishop was smiling. “I just can’t imagine what the fascination is with this dancehall foolery. I wish I could get you away from that world.”

  He eyed me when he said that last part.

  I cleared my throat and tried to reason with Bishop. “It’s just like what you teach in church. It’s spiritual. It’s a connection to our soul. It allows people to relate to one another.”

  “Yeah,” Maya agreed. “The dancehall is our church.”

  He looked at her seriously. “Don’t say that. God is not pleased with that.”

  I was sick of the bishop and his judgmental attitude.

  “No disrespect,” I said. “But, it’s our common meeting ground. It’s the place where we fellowship. The dancehall is the place where we can be ourselves and get closer to God. Except in our ‘church,’ the people aren’t judgmental hypocrites.”

  The bishop sucked his teeth so hard, I wished I could take my words
back.

  “Daddy—” Maya tried to intervene.

  “No, Maya! I’ve tried to be nice to your little friend. But, I will not stand for the disrespect.” He turned his sights on me again. “Ya nah get close to God grinding and winding your bodies. You are ridiculous. Clearly, your ignorant, thuggish ways have gotten you nowhere in life. I knew it was a poor idea to get a hoodlum out of jail!”

  “Daddy!” Maya was crying now.

  “The boy is lost, Maya. I don’t want you around him.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Of course I do. I was young once. I understand exactly what he is. And what he wants from you. I try my hardest to protect you. But, it’s like you are drawn to wickedness.”

  “No, I am not.”

  “All this dancehall madness. Dreadlocks, ganja, and tattooed hoodlums. You are headed down a path of destruction. You want to end up like your sister here? Living in a shack with no money and five kids? I don’t want that for your life.”

  “With all due respect, please don’t speak about my family like that.” I was trying so hard not to go off on this man.

  He stopped the car about half a mile short of Toasta and Peta Gaye’s house. I sat there for a moment before it dawned on me that he meant for me to get out. Maya was pleading my case. But, the bishop wasn’t trying to hear it. Finally, I opened the door to get out.

  “Look, sir. I’m sorry if I offended you. Those were not my intentions.”

  “I feel your intentions are always sorry. You need to change. You are causing a lot of trouble around here and bringing a lot of people grief. Your uncle Screechie, for instance, is a good man who doesn’t deserve the trouble. The Lord put it on my heart to come help you because I believe they would have really killed you in that jail. Honestly, mi nah think it’s a good idea for you to be around my family. Or even in Jamaica, for that matter. My advice is to go back to where you came from.”

  I nodded. “No matter where I go, I’m always going to be me. I wish you could see the true me because I am not the person you think I am.”

  “Words are a lot easier than actions.”

  “Well, watch this action.”

  I got out of the car and slammed the door. I began walking the long road to Toasta’s house.

  NEW DIRECTION

  I tried to shake off my anger the whole time I walked to my cousin’s house. I was furious that Maya’s father thought it was okay to talk down to me like that. I had made my share of mistakes. But, I wasn’t the worthless piece of trash he was making me out to be.

  When I got to Toasta’s house, he was hanging out in the front yard with his kids. As I approached, I noticed the charred remains of his BMW still parked in the same spot where Dada’s people had set it on fire. Instantly, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I knew how much my beef with Dada had cost the people close to me. The weight of that was killing me. Bishop’s words echoed in my mind, adding insult to injury.

  To my surprise, Toasta was in high spirits. He was dancing and laughing with his kids as I approached. When he spotted me, he rushed over and hugged me. He stepped back and looked me over, making sure I was in one piece.

  “Brethren! Ya all right?”

  “Aye,” I said. “I’m still standing. The bishop just tried to mess up my day. But, I ain’t letting him get to me.” I waved it off, telling myself to let it go. “Anyway, damn.” I gestured toward his car. “I see they got the new Beamer.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. But, dem small tings to a giant! I’m good. You’re good. The family is good. That’s all that matters.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, but now, everything is fucked up.”

  “Nah. Mi mixtapes is selling like crazy. I’m telling you, I’m gonna have a hit soon. Trust me. We can’t be stopped out here. All Star Blazers for life!”

  I nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  I liked his optimistic attitude. I needed that right now. My thoughts drifted quickly, though.

  “How is Killa Bean?”

  “He’s a’ight. Got a buck fifty across his face. But, he sees it as his stripes and battle wounds. Tribal scars. He’ll be fine. Him a badman.”

  “I hate that everybody’s caught up in my shit.” Saying it out loud, I felt the weight on my shoulders lift a little.

  “We squad. Your shit is our shit, fam! Just like I said. All Star Blazers for life!”

  I nodded. “Word. All Star Blazers for life!”

  Toasta lowered his voice. “I just got word that they let Farmer out, too.”

  My eyes went wide. “Yeah?”

  “Yes. So, we can jump back in where we left off.”

  I thought about it. The thought was tempting. Nothing would satisfy me more than getting back on my feet and showing Dada that he couldn’t stop me. But, the knowledge that I had caused my family and friends so much pain and trouble was haunting me. I knew it was time for a change.

  “Nah,” I said. “I think I’m done with that life, bro.”

  Toasta stared at me like I was an imposter.

  “Come again? I don’t know if I heard ya right.”

  “Man, I’m for real. I’m not trying to see the inside of another jail cell. Not in the States. Not in Jamaica. Not on the moon.”

  Toasta stared at me for just a moment longer before he slowly nodded. “I feel dat. It’s just the money was so easy.”

  It was. Selling weed in Jamaica—good weed—was a very lucrative business. Plus, I had been getting money from my boy Kareem’s frequent trips to Jamaica using the farmer’s connections at the port. But, all of that was over now.

  “I think there’s even easier money to get.”

  Toasta looked at me. “Oh, yeah? How? I’m all ears.”

  “The ten-million-dollar dancehall clash.”

  Toasta looked at me, skeptically. “You do realize that’s ten million Jamaican dollars, right?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, nigga. I get it. But, it’s still almost eighty thousand dollars in the U.S. That could get us together real quick. It can help my mom, my brother, our crew. Even help get your music right to take your career to the next level.”

  He thought about it and nodded. “Very true, General. That money is as good as ours. I’m riding with you all di way, brethren!”

  I was relieved to hear that. “Tomorrow night, round up the squad and we’ll link up at The Jungle to start practicing for the dance clash. We ’bout to get this money!”

  We solidified it with a handshake hug that only brothers understand.

  “Tarzan.”

  I turned to find Maya standing behind me. She looked embarrassed. I assumed it was because of the way her pops had just acted. She cleared her throat before she spoke.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  I glanced at Toasta. He smiled.

  “Ya know your motorcycle was spared in all the melee.”

  I’d been wondering about it for the longest time, but thought it would be too selfish of me to ask considering the circumstances.

  “The cops tore this place apart, looking for any ting. Lucky for you, Bishop managed to save your bike. It’s parked in the back.”

  I was relieved. There was some bright spot in this day after all. I looked at Maya.

  “You want to go for a ride?”

  She nodded.

  I looked around for her father, afraid that he was lurking somewhere waiting to attack me with his words again.

  Maya sensed my fear. “He’s gone. After you left, we sat there and argued. Daddy refused to budge. So, I got out of the car and walked here a few minutes after you did.”

  I smiled. That’s my girl.

  “Let’s go.”

  We rode through the countryside together, and it felt like time stood still. Maya’s body was pressed against my back, her hands clutching me tightly. I felt like the luckiest man in the world, alone with the woman I loved. Even though so much in my life was going wrong, this time alone with her felt so right.

  We watche
d the sunset as we rode together. Then rain began to fall, and we had to find shelter. We rode out to my place. Although it had been ransacked, we ran inside, anxious to get out of the pouring rain. As it beat down on the roof, we stood in the doorway looking around, hopelessly, at the incredible mess. Maya smiled at me.

  “Time to clean up.” She grabbed a broom from beneath a bunch of junk piled up on the kitchen floor, and began sweeping. She began to clear a path from the doorway through the living room.

  I never felt more in love with her than I did at that moment. As hopeless as my whole life was, she was right there willing to stand by my side and help me clean up the mess. I walked over to her, kissed her, and then helped her clean up. We did our best to salvage a few things, and then we stood near what used to be the front window, watching the rain beat down on the house and the earth outside. Maya found some weed that the cops hadn’t discovered during their search. She rolled it and we smoked it together.

  I looked at her sitting on a cushion on the floor while she puffed the ganja. Her hair hung around her shoulders, framing her face like the mane of a lioness. I had never seen her look sexier.

  “Even though your father obviously hates me, I just want to thank you for coming to get me out of jail. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain to you what that means to me. It was hell in there.” I took a long toke.

  “You’re welcome, baby.” Her voice sounded so sweet.

  “I’ve never had anyone really care for me like that before. Nobody besides my mama, you know what I mean? I spent five years in prison back in the U.S., and no one ever thought to even come and visit me. Let alone try to help me get out. Kinda makes a person feel worthless.”

  I looked out the window at the rain. The weather was gloomy, and cloudy. Exactly how I felt at the moment.

  “Maybe your father is right. Maybe I need to get out of here and not be a burden on you and everyone else around me.”

  She sucked her teeth and put out the spliff.

  “You are not a burden, Tarzan. You cannot listen to mi father. You are a blessing. You are going to win the dance clash, just like you said. And, when you do, you’re going to be a blessing to so many people. Your family. My family. The All Star Blazers will win. I can feel it.”