The Hard Knocks of Apple Town

By J. Easton Black

Blake controls the largest underground marijuana grow op in Apple Town. The man has it all: money, fame, respect, and good looks. Rivals have come far and wide to contest Blake's stake in the drug trade, yet all have failed.

Things take a turn for the worse when he faces an enemy who not only has more power and influence, but is far more than just an ordinary man.
Now Blake must literally face demons from the past, or pay the ultimate price: the life of his son.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publisher Inc.
• Release date: Oct 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370193721

J. Easton Black

Jack Easton Black grew up in a harsh environment at Brooklyn, New York. With his foster parents working 2 to 3 shifts daily, young Easton was constantly exposed to vices, bad company, and past time activities that'd be deem inappropriate for any young child.After years of bad influence, Jack finally left the town which corrupted (to some extent) his morals in pursuit of better life in Green Land.All plots, characters, and stories written by Jack is inspired from past experiences, and those of others around him, which gives his writing a dark, sometimes comedic, true-to-life feel which his (few) readers have come to love.

Book preview

The Hard Knocks

of Apple Town

By J. Easton Black

Copyright 2016 J. Easton Black

Kindle Edition

The Dealer

That was fast, Blake grumbles, in disbelief, under his breath as he struggles to pick himself off the floor. Blake finally gets to his feet, balanced on two wobbly knees. Dazed, the tall and lanky young adult lifts the back of his hand to his eyebrow to wipe blood flowing from an open wound.

His opponent throws a cracking right to his chin before Blake gets the blood off, toppling him to the ground once again. Blake lies flat on his stomach, his face balancing on the side of his chin.

Ralph doesn’t want you dealing in Apple Town anymore, says his assailant.

Blake looks up at the guy from behind the strands of his long brown hair. The young Caucasian has no idea who the massive Nigerian is, apart from the fact that he’s built like an athletic bodybuilder, and that he looks like a villain torn straight out of a comic book.

Blake slowly rises to his feet again, and stands tall. He’s hurting all over from the beating he’s been taking over the past two minutes, but he hides his pain well – a skill he’s developed during his teen years growing up in the slums.

He isn’t anywhere nearly as tall or massive as his enemy, but Blake’s fairly muscled enough to knock the lights out of most of the guys he’s scuffled with.

Blake spits out a wad of blood, and smiles at the Nigerian. I think I would have understood the message better if you actually said it instead, chuckles Blake, as he coughs on blood going down his throat.

The fists are the best instruments of communication, said the Nigerian, holding up fists the size of bowling bowls. Anyone who deals in Apple Town needs to get Ralph’s permission, and give Ralph’s share of all proceeds. You’ve done neither."

I do what I do to get by. Apple Town was always about open free-trade, legal or illegal, said Blake. All that changed since Ralph came along. You hit like a pussy, by the way. A man your size should have knocked me out by now.

Tommy’s blank expression changes, conveying a bit of amusement. Tommy always liked fighting, and there was something special about his target. He didn’t hate him. From their brief meeting he could tell they had things in common, and actually believed they’d be good friends under different circumstances.

A job was a job, however, and disobedience to Ralph was almost always punished with death.

Taunting to get someone to attack carelessly to setup a counter strike is a trick you use on a 3rd grader, says Tommy. He raises his two massive arms wide in the air, like a black angel spreading its wings. I’m no 3rd grader.

Blake grins at Tommy, revealing white teeth stained with blood. He raises both of his hands in a traditional boxer’s stance, and waves him in with his left lead hand.

Tommy circles to Blake’s right side, slowly closing the gap between them. His movements are fluid, like a black panther zeroing in on its prey.

It’s only 19 seconds before the final exchange takes place. But for Blake, it feels like an eternity. Though younger, Blake remains patient, fully aware of the consequences of another sloppy attack. He stays patient, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Tommy closes the distance with a quick lunge towards Blake, extending his long arm for a grab for the collar of his shirt.

Blake slips the attempt, and rams his right shoulder into the Nigerian’s floating right rib, sending him off balance.

Blake leaps forward and pivots behind Tommy, and clasps his hands around his waist. He squeezes tightly, and using his opponent’s backward momentum, lifts him high up into the air, and slams him to the wooden floor, head first.

The young dealer quickly mounts his dazed foe, and begins to rain down wild punches. His face is contracted, accurately depicting a rush of excitement, adrenaline, and enjoyment.

Before the 5th punch can connect, Tommy twists his hips while simultaneously throwing a powerful blow to Blake’s cheekbone. It sends Blake off his position of advantage, and frees the Nigerian.

Both men hastily scramble to their feet, but Tommy is discombobulated. Without a moment to spare, Blake sees his opportunity to end the fight.

Blake dashes forward and throws a crushing heel strike to the instep of Tommy’s left foot. Tommy winces in pain, leans slightly forward, and drops his hands for a split second.

Anticipating the opening before he even sees it, Blake throws a vicious right uppercut that connects flush to the Nigerian’s stone-like chin, and follows it up with a left and right hook in rapid succession.

The blows connect flawlessly, disconnecting the Nigerian’s jaw, and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap of a mess. His eyes are wide open, but he’s still breathing, and snoring.

They all snore when they get a taste of my blows, says Blake, waving his fist at the Nigerian.

Blake spits another wad of blood from his mouth, and squats beside the sleeping behemoth. He double checks his star struck eyes to make certain he really is, star struck.

He searches the unconscious Nigerian’s pockets. He finds his wallet, yanks out the bills, and places it in his left back pocket.

Tommy Manuwa, says Blake to himself, reading the Nigerian’s ID. He must be Cuban.

The dealer picks up the unconscious man’s right hand. Wrapped around his cigar-like ring finger is a thick band of gold laced with yellow stones. Upon closer examination, Blake realizes it’s a wedding ring, and drops his hand back to the floor.

He moves on to inspecting the left hand, and sees a fancy-looking gold watch encrusted with white diamonds. He removes the time piece, and examines it closely.

Must be nice to work for Ralph, Blake says to himself, realizing it’s a Rolex. He gently unlatches the watch, and slips it onto his left wrist.

As the dealer gets to his feet, he hears a floor board creak. Looking over his shoulder, he sees a fat man staring at him from behind the counter. His eyes are wide, and his face pale white.

You okay? asks Blake, as he irons out the front of his shirt with both of his scarred, bruised hands.

Never better, never better! Quite a show you put on there. I do fancy a good show every once in a while, replies the large man, eyelids pulled back, and pupils as wide as olives, in his peculiar Welsh accent which is made even more evident with his choice of clichés.

The man is dressed in a checkered, wool suit that emphasizes his rotund figure. Apart from poor taste in fashion, Blake’s more surprised to see he isn’t sweating.

Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or a drink to settle your nerves? asks the baker.

Blake looks up at his Rolex. I’d love to but I have to get going now.

Blake pulls out a 100 from the back of his pocket. He hands it over to the man, who we don’t know what name he goes by yet. But he knows who Blake is, as does everyone else in Apple Town.

I’ll take my cake now. I apologize for the mess, Blake says.

"Not at all