Excerpt
1
“You’re a
pushover, Mr. Freeman,” Mrs. Pearson spat. “The children take advantage of you
because you are trying to be their friend.”
No, I
thought, it was because I understood them, and didn’t need to yell at them
for their indiscretions from the minute the first bell rang until the final
bell of the day.
Maybe it was
because my parents didn’t like social workers suggesting I might flourish in a
self-contained environment when I was younger. Instead of fighting the system,
they removed me from it to one where I was able to grow under the tutelage of
caring teachers who worked in a smaller, but less chaotic environment that
fostered the need to learn within me.
I nodded at her
assessment as she made some markings in my file, jotted some notes. Now wasn’t
the time to argue. I’d just take it up with my case manager at CSU. He’d have
my back. He knew as well as many of my associates at the school that I deserved
a shot at a job there or at least in the district.
Why shouldn’t I
work with children that looked like me, lived down the street from where my
parents still had a home, and my relatives lived nearby? Why shouldn’t I have
the right to work only five minutes from my own lodging mere blocks from the
school?
In two weeks, a
decision would be made on new hires. I needed Mrs. Pearson to put a word in for
me to be a part of the team. Of course, with new hires meant old employees – uh
hmm, Mrs. Pearson – might be rotated out. Could that have been my true issue?
“You may find
yourself taking a position in another district that can afford to nurture your
way of teaching,” Mrs. Pearson said as she was approaching her conclusion. “And
work on your classroom management skills.”
She handed me the
file which I snatched from her prune-ish wrinkly hands. I stood up glancing at
my wristwatch. If there was a God, I’d be no more than five minutes late for my
meeting with Professor Donaldson, my cohort leader.
“Thank you, Mrs.
Pearson. I’ll keep that in mind,” I said calmly as I took quick steps out the
classroom with every intent to dash toward the parking lot and high tail it to
95th Street and State.
As I descended
down the stairwell facing the parking lot through the large glass pane windows,
I could see a traffic jam of parents still arriving to pick up their kids and
teachers’ cars crawling bumper to bumper out the one exit.
Excerpt
2
Even though it was nearly six am, it was still pitch dark
outside. I had my high beams on to cut through the spring morning fog. A set of
lights fell behind me as I approached the light on Fifth Avenue. The two lanes
became one as the lane left of me merged with the right. The beams from behind
distracted me. I had to hold my hand up to block the glare.
A roar of a hemi
shot through my windows. My focus shifted when my peripheral vision noticed a
car to the left of me. With my right hand still blocking the glare from behind,
I slowly turned my head to the left. It didn’t take long to process the sound
of the V8 engine humming to know I was next to a long-time nemesis. The sleek
black Dodge may have been upgraded over the years. The driver’s hair thinning
and whiter, but that stare was unmistakable belonging only to one, Harold
Jasper.
When I was growing
up in the neighbor, we weren’t worried about what the white cops would do to
us. It was the Black ones who abused their power and authority on us. No cop
was more feared than Harold Jasper.
More than thirty
years on the force and the biggest crime the courts could hang on him was being
guilty of misconduct. That was before he became the Chief of Detectives. Now he
oversaw Narcotics, Vice, and Homicide in my town. In many instances, I was sure
he had a hand in many of the crimes his staff investigated.
When I was
younger, I’d seen the backseat of his squad car plenty of times as he would
occasionally harass me and my cousin, Ray.
We were guilty by association. Ray for being the eldest son of a dealer
in the hood and me for being Ray’s kin. I stopped hanging out with Ray by the
time we were seventeen. Before then the harassment became more routine. But
after Ray’s father was gunned down by Jasper in broad daylight, allegedly for
fleeing the scene of a crime, Ray and I went our separate ways. I haven’t
talked to Ray since. It didn’t help that Ray stole the girl I was crushing on
right from under me either.
The light turned
green and I softly patted the accelerator creeping away as I broke the staring
contest under the impression that Jasper would be making a turn at the light.
Those high beams
still blinded my vision, but I figured once Jasper was out of sight I would put
as much distance as necessary between me and Mr. High-beams as quickly as
possible. I was halfway up the block when I glanced in my sideview mirror to
see Jasper’s Phantom fall in line behind us.
Shit, Jasper was
following one of the two of us. Immediately, my mind flashed back to those
times when Jasper would haul us into the back of his car on bullshit. I
couldn’t afford to have him pull me over now. Of all days, not this day. My
nerves were all over the place as it was, but if Jasper started fucking with
me, it was over. I wouldn’t dare take that interview.
The dipshit behind
me was killing me with the lights when he suddenly just took a chance crossing
the solid double yellow lines to pass me. Relieved as I was that he was off my
tail, now I had to contend directly with Jasper. I had half a mind to tap my break
even though I was driving one mile slower than the signs posted. Jasper crept
closer as I shook my head muttering, “Not now, Jasper, not now!”
The strobes began
to flash and my heart sank and my bubbling stomach intensified.
“Shit!” I grumbled
to myself. I couldn’t wait to see what chicanery that bastard was going to pull
this time.
I pulled my car
toward the right when I realized Jasper was blaring past me. Our eyes locked
again briefly before his car all but disappeared in the morning fog. All I saw
was a haze of blue and red flashing through the darkness. I pulled back into
the lane finding myself whizzing by Jasper and Mr. Headlights. I shook my head
at the unknown driver. He had no idea how much he’d fucked up.
Better him,
than me.
Excerpt
3
As I entered the
house, I could see straight through to the kitchen which was brightly. I’d
known Cornell for years, also going back to high school before he decided he
would have a better education in the street. No matter what degree a street
education got a person, I knew the house wasn’t his but Big Nat’s.
Cornell emerged
from a back room in a pair of jeans with his boxers sticking out, Air Force
Ones, and no shirt. His six foot two ripped
frame was a cocoa brown. He gave a smile as he saw me. I assumed he was
happy to see what Ray sent me with.
“Cherry, Cherry,”
he announced. “To what do I owe this honor, Love?”
My chest heaved as
I watched him saunter toward me, his eyes locked on my titties like a lion
moving in on a meal.
I slung the bag
from my shoulder and held it out for him to see.
Licking his thick
crusty lips, this sleepy eyed brother stated, “So, Ray got you muling for him
now or what?”
Immediately, I
took offense to Cornell’s suggestion that I moved product or weight or was a
mule although at that moment I felt like a jackass as he moved closer to me
until he was leering down on me. At five foot four, Cornell easily towered over
me. His slim physique of complete muscle was ready to pounce on me. He snatched
the bag out my hands and stared. I dared to return his gaze, but I gave him a
moment before I rolled my eyes toward the television monitor. I really didn’t
want him to know how scared I’d suddenly become as he bounced the bag to feel its
weight.
“Ray asked me to
drop it off,” I answered. “So, I am,” I said as I turned to head for the door.
Mission accomplished.
“Hold up,” he
commanded. “Where you going, Love?”
At an instant, I
stopped. All I could imagine was making it for the car and letting Benny take
me as far away as possible.
“Ray asked me to
drop this off,” I repeated myself. “And I did.” I turned to face Cornell as I
gave a what I thought was a definitive answer.
Cornell shook his
pointy shaved head, “No, Love, it don’t work like that,” he said. “I have to
check the contents first. Once I’m satisfied, then you go.”
Again, I sighed,
then shrugged, “Go ahead then, check out the contents,” I said giving my best
cocky stance.
“Alright, Love,”
he laughed as he flung the over his shoulder and headed back toward the
kitchen.
Big, tall, and
bald pressed against me licking his lips like he saw something savory on a
menu. “Figures your boy would send you out. Jasper wants him real bad. I don’t
blame him for not coming out. Especially with the bounty on his head.”
“Wh-what?” I
stammered as I thought about the patrol car posted outside the alley earlier.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, you didn’t
know?” he laughed with the yellowest rotted teeth. His breath was choking me as
it fell upon my air passage.
My eyes rolled
past him to the girl lying on the couch like a hound dog that was too pooped to
hunt. I could only imagine what she was there for with five guys as she was
dressed in a low cropped top and a pair of ripped Daisy Dukes with the top
button opened. Upon further review I could see she wasn’t lounging where she
laid. Sister was worn out. But from what I could only imagine as I glanced d at
her weave sitting crookedly atop her head with the lace peeling away from her
edges.
“Hey!” I heard
Cornell bellow. It scared me half to death. “Bring that bitch back here.”
My eyes floated
toward Sleepy Dead on the couch when ‘Darkness’ grabbed my arm and flung me
forward. I tried to wriggle my arm free when he tightened his grip. I felt the
pressure as his long bony fingers tapped the bottom of his wrist.
He dragged me past
a darkened bedroom with shades drawn beyond the window frame with a camera
system and unkempt bed in the center. My shoes hit linoleum patches in the
kitchen as my feet slid while he pulled me toward an open doorway.
Inside the
expanded bedroom was a set up like a chemistry classroom with weights like the
one Justice has for truth. I saw plastic baggies of grass that resembled
broccoli stems. The baggies were etched with black markings on top reading CP,
for Cherry Punch the blend Ray Ray had been moving for years for Big Nat.
Except he mixed his with a secret recipe. It was the reason he moved up in ranks
with Big Nat forcing he and Cornell to be more like rivals.
In Cornell’s left
hand was the black duffle bag I’d brought. His right hand rummaged around as he
grimaced at me.
“What’s this shit,
ho?” he spat as he pulled out clothing, dirty underwear, Ray’s dirty underwear
and tossed it to the floor. “Tell me what’s up, bitch?” he said as he retrieved
a folded sheet of paper. He shook the sheet open and briefly glanced at it. He
chuckled, then handed the paper to “Darkness’ who pulled me with him as he
grabbed the paper. As his eyes fell on the sheet, Cornell dropped the bag to
the floor with his eyes on me.
“Well, Love,”
Cornell began. “Your boyfriend pulled a slick one on us. But if you cool with
his terms, I’m cool. I just need to clear this with Nat, then we a go.”
“I-I don’t
understand,” I nervously muttered. “What terms?”
Cornell’s eyes
rolled away from me toward me bodyguard. “Give her the note,” he instructed.
The paper waved in
front of me. I snatched it to see Ray Ray’s scribbling for handwriting. My eyes
grew three times its size as I read the illegible print. If I hadn’t been with
Ray as long as I had, I wouldn’t have been able to decipher the words.
A mixture of
emotions shot through me. First fear, then regret, but the bitter taste of
betrayal shot through me.
Can you, for those who don't
know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?
I became an author because it was far easier to get a novel
in front of readers than it was to get Franklin Leonard and Lena Waithe to read
a screenplay. I have been writing since college, but never took my teachers
seriously regarding the craft. I hated editing and would challenge my
professors to edit material for me if they saw something they wanted me to
submit for publishing purposes. They weren’t to keen on that idea. I became
serious about writing after coming thisclose to talking Marc Forrester(Quantum
of Solace, World War Z) into working on a screenplay for a movie I had a
license for remake purposes in 2001. His rejection led me to work with a
variety of independent filmmakers, but I never shared my passion to write with
them. I was always brought in from a sales and marketing perspective and I left
it there. Megan Joseph and B. Love provided me with my first opportunity, and I
have been off to the races ever since.
Where were you born/grew up at?
I was born in Chicago,
Illinois and raised in Maywood, Illinois. During my childhood and teen years I
grew up around the likes of Doc Rivers, Michael Woodard, and Isiaih ‘Zeke’
Thomas ( except we never called him Zeke at school). Doc Rivers’ brother
brought me into my current profession when he was president of the Maywood
School Board.
What kind of world ruler would you be?
I would get everybody killed if I were leader. I would want a
battle every day. Ask former employees of mine. It was a badge of honor to sit
in a meeting with high end executives and say something foul knowing full well
I was representing a team. I would fight for my team, mind you, but sometimes I
started the fight.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I considered myself a writer the first time I put pen to
paper. I don’t know if I consider myself an author as of this writing, but I am
diligently trying to get there.
Do you have a favorite movie?
Chinatown written by Robert Towne. The most remarkable
screenplay ever, especially when you realize the entire story is from a limited
perspective as every scene features Jake Gittes, but he is not narrating the
tale as many noirs would have that character do.
Which of your novels can you imagine made into a movie?
I can imagine Interstate and The Expert Witness transitioned
into movies. The Magnificent Mile coming soon would translate as well.
Fantastic post. Thank you so much for hosting Cherry Punch!
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