Ghost to the Game

by Orion Pharoah

  Table of Contents

  Ghost To The Game

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

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  About the Author

  Ghost To The Game

  By Orion Pharoah

  Prologue

  “I’ll start with his seed.” He thought as he pulled down the first bottle. It was a pure white powder. He opened it and the fumes ignited into flames scorching his nostrils and he inhaled with a smile as he poured the powder into the child’s blood. The child’s future changed from bright and hopeful to a land of shadows as the fine particles took over his very being. Then, he grabbed a jar of dark thick liquid and when he opened the lid, a deep growl escaped- it was rage. To ensure his sadistic plan would not fail, he seized the child’s soul with his own hands and in an act of hatred punishable by The Maker,(despite the layers of his own flesh being ripped from his palms) he submerged the child’s soul into the foul liquid. The most wicked in attendance turned their eyes as he retrieved the soul from the jar. It was putrefied. He laughed and chimed to his audience, “Now his seed will kill the wound of the righteous and die for all time.”

  The crowd stood in amazement and applauded. “The betrothed princess.” He smiled as he took down several more different jars. Hurt, alienation and loss, he mixed them together until the mix cried from its own existence then handed it to his best soldier. “Make sure you sneak the elixir into the baby’s source of nourishment.”

  He laughed as he looked around to his crowd of evil and advised, “Leave me and worry no more about this prophecy, there will be no interruption of plans. The boy will never be.”

  ***

  He was smooth when I walked up on the crossroads and I chuckled, I half expected his hooves, and shiny red flesh to show-that wasn't the case though. He was a towering man with broad shoulders. His suit stressed around his bulging biceps and he had huge hands and strong fierce, fiery eyes that could set the ground itself on fire. His silhouette did not fail to ignite every fear in your imagination where a man stood, but his shadow- a beast; and his horns were as clear as his custom-tailored Armani suit. Oh, this was a business meeting and he dressed the part, but down here, shadows never lie.

  His smile changed to annoyed the moment we locked stares.

  “You don’t even exist. You’re an apparition.” He paused and inhaled to expand his massive chest and spewed, “The reason you don’t exist is because down deep in a dark nasty pit in hell, I killed you boy. I killed your creation and when I found out about your soul still living, I killed and abandoned it too. Yet here you stand at my high roller’s table-at the kingpin’s seat no less. You want more than just half the world?” Darkness asked inquisitively.

  “No.” I answered his question. “I came down to your crossroad to inform you of what the results are for poisoning the saints, sweet Prince. Despite your campaign to destroy me, it seems you’re now in my debt. You see, I’m walking out of his game and you’re going to allow it.”

  His rage scorched the ground with every step he took closer toward me. “No one makes a deal with me and walks away free, Boy.”

  “I didn’t make a fucking deal with you. I am the only surviving son from two of The Creator’s children that you intentionally contaminated and murdered,” I seethed. I could feel the fire from his flesh feeding my confidence.

  He smiled an evil smile, “I see the same thing you see boy, a wounded child waiting on the reaper.”

  Although we were face to face in his home, he didn’t exactly have home field advantage. I got close to his ear and whispered, “You think my voice shows your best quality but I assure you, there is no pride in my blood. You gambled when you lifted my father’s soul out of his body as a child, and you had no idea what it would create, because of your pride. Yes, I see the beast that I am but I also know the man that I was created to be. You need me down here and you know I’m not staying.”

  “You must be a worthless piece of shit boy. I mean, your parents and your mentor knew to leave your sorry ass alone,” He responded with a smirk.

  I sat down on a tree stump next to where he was standing and lit a blunt.

  “Since you’re clearly feeling good, I take it we are discussing terms?” I asked boldly.

  “You’re gonna fry down here.” He answered.

  I shot up and got close to his face, “No. I’ve been frying down here and unlike these other condemned bastards, I made this place home voluntarily! You were too proud to even check to see which inmate was running your most productive block!”

  “Wow, the orphan does have a soul.” He said hungrily as he took a seat, and for a moment, I could feel the shockwave from the car bomb that took my parents’ lives, what seems to be a lifetime ago.

  “That one!” He pointed his twisted finger. “Put that one on the line-the soul that never mourned them. I want to finish my work.”

  I shrugged, “Fine but I get to walk away and take them with me.”

  “Boy, your soul ain’t worth one condemned. NO DEAL!” He shouted.

  “I’m not a prisoner here but your prisoners follow me.” I said calmly.

  He turned with distaste in his voice, “One soul- but you take on a debt that will ensure yours falls. You create an entire new wing and fill it with my best hits and once that is complete, you leave with nothing.”

  I broke our eye contact for the first time to look at the hands that had squeezed the life out of my pops and summoned all of that hurt to my eyes as I rose my head and locked our gaze again.

  “NO!”

  “You have all the cards boy, you hold all the game’s rules and you have somethin’ that’s worth one soul.” He paused with a satisfied smile.

  I could hear the distain in my voice as I replied, “You want a prisoner to be king and you want me to train him? I’ll do it. But what about you and me? How are we settling up?”

  “Glad you asked.” He glared. “If you keep that pretty princess alive and train your spectacularly murderous predecessor, I’ll be impressed, but impressing me seems to be what you’re best at Boy, so when you finally fail, Daddy will be right here.” He grinned.

  “If I do complete all of this, I keep what I want.”

  “That’s a deal you keep alone; your life and who you are dies in the game.”

  I felt my heart break when we shook hands. I lost one life at 14, but gained a new one and now, at some point in order to live a free life- I will have to lose who I am again.”

  ***

  Chapter 1

  In September of 1984, a car bomb took the lives of three American tourist in the front of a local grocery store in Kingston, Jamaica. The local news reported that it was a failed assignation attempt on the world’s largest narcotic network owners. Jason Duncan,”J”- the actual network owner, ordered a swift and persistent retaliation and within 48 hours and all but one co-conspirator was dead and it was made brutally clear to all the underworld why these affiliates were dispatched.

 
The next morning J was sitting in the conference room when one of his trusted men walked in and told him that the news was wrong. In the car that blew up was a young street hustler making money as a ghetto tour guide, an American and his wife were dead but their son was still alive; he was in the store when it happened and is now in the wind.

  J jumped to his feet.

  "Get the Boys."

  Within minutes, all seven of his most trusted men were standing in front of him. J settling his panic, spoke.

  "Gentlemen, there is a 14-year-old American child hiding in Kingston, Jamaica and two days ago he saw his parents get blown up, now we are all going to go find him."

  With those words, all seven men grabbed their go bags and headed to the lobby.

  At the private hangar PJ asked.

  "Boss man, Braddah, you know I’m gettin’ on dis plane no matta what but why dis kid? He’s dead to America and a ghost to Jamaica, dey will nev’r know he is here."

  J, showing full emotion (something rarely seen) said,

  "Look around and take account, I created this wealth for all of us to grow and I have more power than most presidents. I just created an orphan that had no choice in the matter and if I don’t take care of this child and share this wealth with him- out of love and nothing else, then I am the devil and all of you are just demons."

  Not a word was needed after that. They landed that evening and the next morning, they hit the streets of Kingston. After three hours, J's cell rang- it was PJ.

  "Bossman, Me seein him sitting not 200 yards from Me."

  “PJ, don’t let him outta your sight! No one approaches him! This kid is a survivor, if you spook him, we’ll never see him again.” J instructed.

  With that, Jason got in his car and headed towards the courtyard where the young man was sitting and laughing with the other Jamaican youth. When the young boy saw J approaching him in the courtyard, he sprang to his feet and bolted towards him. He yelled, "Dad!!" He was only inches from J when he realized and stopped,

  "You're not my dad but you look like you could be an older version." The boy studied the face in front of him. The lines around his dark eyes made them look intriguing and inviting. J smiled, "Kid, you’ve been on these streets for four days and you're here just chillin? I know what happened to your parents’ man, and I’m sorry, I’m real sorry.”

  He put his arm on the boy’s shoulder, “It’s not safe for you out here, come with me, Son. I flew all the way here to make sure you were okay and to say I’m sorry to your face, it’s because of my face that you lost your family and there is nothing I can do to change that. I’m here to offer you a new life- not a better one, just a better different- if you let me." The boy looked at J then tearfully embraced him and they got in a car with the others and left for the airport hangar. In the car J asked, “Were you sleeping on the streets for four days?”

  The young man responded, “When I fled the bombing I ran into the heart of Kingston because I remembered my father telling me all African Americans were divided there because it was the first stop on the slave trade. He said Kingston would always be our home, where our family was from so many decades ago.” The boy said this like it brought a certain calm to his tragedy and he continued, “I hid in the back yard of an older Jamaican woman and when she found me, she gave me a place to sleep.”

  When they got to the hanger, the young man stopped at the steps of the G3 trying to wrap his head around what was happening. “What kind of man has a private jet and gets bombed by people?"

  J stopped and looked at the boy again. He was tall for his age- 5’10”, with a medium build and dark brown eyes- eyes that told a story. He could tell his family valued appearance, as his hair was kept neat and his clothes, although tattered from his latest ventures, were of good quality. "The kind of man that’s going to give you everything money can buy and teach you the value of what it can’t. Orion was an Egyptian god that stood over the pyramids and protected rebirth and the after-life, it is also the only constellation that stays ahead of the sky and can rise and be seen during the day. Orion was a warrior and now, he is you. Your new name is Orion Duncan." “Happy Birthday Son.”

  Chapter 2

  With his hand on my shoulder Pop’s explained, “Son, tonight the entire organization will pause to celebrate your birthday and your role as prince-heir to the throne.” I looked over at him breaking my stare at the crystal blue ocean from the lounge chair I was sitting in next to him. My pops, a tall, stocky man with dark curly locks, and serious eyes- to me, they were a saving grace, I looked into those almond colored eyes and felt my soul being embraced. “Thank you Pops. This place is peaceful, I can see why you kept it secret for so long. Thank you for sharin’ it with me.”

  He smiled, “A perfect place to turn 21, huh? It’s always been just me and Pete drinkin’ and chillin’ at the bar, now Son, you can call this place home whenever you want.” Just then, my Uncle Pete, a seaside bar owner and part time shrink to my pops walked up with food. He was a tall slender man with skin as dark as ebony and kind, happy hazel eyes. He put it down on the table and placed his hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze and smiled as Pops continued, “Son, when it’s time, Pete will have everything you need to start a new life, you will have a new name with a past history and credit, enough to do whatever the hell you want.” Pete walked around my chair to see my face, “Young J, I luv da man ya have become but be sure ta keep ya focus as ya ent’r da game.”

  He offered his hand out to take mine as an embrace, then walked back up the sand to the bar. Pops stood up in front of me and I could see his chest move up and down as he took a deep breath,

  “You have a special gift Orion, you think eight steps ahead of everything and everyone- hell, even me. You have the opportunity to do somethin’ no one has ever done, rise to the top of the organization and still get out one day. You have the heart and mind of an alpha wolf and you will run this organization like a wolf pack and it will grow and thrive because of you. You will master this game Son because you have the ability to solve the riddle and make the perfect check mate.”

  I stood up and I hugged him tight. “I know Pops, I will make a crossroads deal with my own fine print, now let’s go have my first legal drink with Uncle Pete.” We walked up the beach to meet Pete as he poured our drinks and as we lifted our glasses, he proclaimed with a pride in his voice I had never heard.

  “Yong J, tonight you and dis ol’ man are one wit modda earth. Here you ar free.”

  The next morning we made our way to the airport in silence and I could tell Pops was somewhere else when we boarded the jet, so once we got in the air I asked him, “Pops, is everythin’ 100?”

  He smiled, “Yea Son were 100 but come sit closer.”

  I moved to sit across from him and smirked, “What’s up ol’ man?”

  He didn’t smile back, instead he moved to sit right beside me and when I turned to face him, he adjusted my shirt,(a loving nuance he’s done since he found me) “Son, 21 will mark your entrance into the game.” He paused for what seemed to be forever. “Baby boy, I know this life you’ve been thrusted into has probably not been how most young men dream about growin’ up, but I pray it’s at least been a better different.”

  I could see that it almost hurt him to say those words and I admitted, “Pops, I love my life but the bomb that manifested it wasn’t on you. It’s like you’ve told me since then, bad things happen in the world, and we can either rise from the ashes or bow down and cry in them.”

  He gave that teary smile only I saw when our past twisted him as he continued, “Orion, the game is the only thing that matters now, but make no mistake, it’s a trap- a crossroads deal with the devil, one step in and the temptation to take a taste will overwhelm you. There’re very few people in this world that choose not to take that taste and walk away, but one-hundred percent of those that sample the game now face a dilemma that seems insurmountable. When you’re in the dark there’s only two decisions, die small or embr
ace the life and rise to the top. Of course, you could turn snitch but there is a special place in hell for snitches. You’re gonna be tested and you will test others, but you need to show the entire organization who you are tonight. I will keep your hands clean as you start your rise up but you will need to be smart Son, not just smarter than your opponent but the smartest player at the table- at all times. You are unique because you were dropped into the game at the top and you’re playing with house money, the game has no contact information with your name on it.” He squeezed my knee tight. “I need you to be a better different than me. Life dropped you at the top of the underworld skipping all the dirt you would have been forced to commit to be able to stand here. You know you can win this game as long as you stay spotless and calculated with every move you make; I will ensure you have every ability to write your own future, I just can’t write it for you son.” He grabbed my face with his hands, and looked me in my eyes as he continued, “Orion, I love and trust you like no one else in my life ever and the next few years we will grow your vision of the future for this organization but you can never lose focus on your goal Son. Standing somewhere free from this game and looking into a new, bette, different life will make this old man the happiest.” He paused as we both cleared our tears. “Tonight, we celebrate you bringing in a new era.”

  That was it. My commencement speech into the hood- a place where I would have to build alliances and destroy all competition. I sat back in the chair as the plane touched down and thought about what I would tell them tonight in New Orleans.

  Chapter 3

  I Looked down from the VIP lounge of The Ritz-New Orleans and saw hundreds of workers and their spouse’s in the grand ball room. I need to make the right first impression. I thought to myself. I know what I’ll do. Before grabbin’ the mic, I’ll have the concierge bring a double shot of Crown to everyone in the room and clear all the hotel staff. Then, I’ll go in and address everyone individually with their name, make eye contact and a thank ‘em for comin’. I’ll address the entire group so they know it’s me, the one that knows everything about them- every deal, every route, everything. Their eyes will tell me if they’re gonna challenge or follow and my eyes will tell them they have no choice but to follow. Ah, there he is, my pops, the last hand I gotta shake.