Hustler's Greed

By Martin L. Stockon

Hustler's Greed is book one of the Murdaland Trilogy. An urban novel inspired by truth. Consisting of an accumulation of life experiences whom to many are a daily reality. From Capital Hill to the Hood in urban sectors of society all are driven towards, "THE AMERICAN DREAM!" and all are tempted by "GREED!" and a longing to succeed. "BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!"

In a world driven by power,sex,money,and material gain; the rich get richer and the poor get poorer receiving leftovers that pacify and distort their reality of truth. To many youth in urban America hustling seems to be the only means to rise up out of poverty. However the repercussions of this chosen path almost always lead to increased numbers of youth and adults alike being the victim of homicide, incarceration, insanity, and or extremely wealthy!!!!

Like Kilo and Rockman, two intelligent urban youth full of ambition who rise to the epitome of the drug game. Only to find themselves facing an untimely demise. Self made street millionaires recruiting a generation of young hustlers living a life of money, murder, deception, and greed. Hustler's Greed.

Book two of the Murdaland Trilogy "Street Certified" coming soon......

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 23, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595880522

Martin L. Stockon

I presently reside in Baltimore, Md. with my loving wife and family. ?Perceptions of life are only as real as living and learning.?

Book preview

CHAPTER 1  

It was 2:00 a.m. when Jessie Gordon awoke to the sound of gunfire in the back of his apartment complex. He had just fallen asleep with his head on his study table in his bedroom; mucus drool soaked a small area of his study guide. Jessie spent the later part of his evening studying for his community college placement exam. Jessie was undecided as to what career fi eld he wanted to pursue but he knew he wanted to be successful in life. He was a 17 year old above average high school student full of ambition. Jessie dropped out of high school in the 11th grade. That same year he obtained his G.E.D. from the Community College of Baltimore where he was preparing for college classes. He had grown tired of the temptation of selling or using drugs; it seemed to him at his high school everybody who was anybody in his peer group did one or the other. Selling drugs would supplement income needed to give his mother, little sister, and two younger brothers a far better lifestyle opposed to the one they were presently living which was slightly above poverty level. Jessie had an older brother named, Tyrone he had lost to the disillusioned lifestyle of being a drug dealer and promised himself he would do all he could not to follow in Tyrone ‘s footsteps. Instead he would be a positive role model for his younger brothers and sister.

Tyrone was introduced to the drug game and became the breadwinner for the family after their father, Thomas Gordon was incarcerated and killed in The State Penitentiary.

It was Christmas eve when Mr. Thomas Gordon arrived home after working a double Shift at Bethlehem Steel, a huge ship yard in Baltimore, Md. which employed many skilled and unskilled workers. Gordon was a ship welder with ten years in at the shipyard. The cold morning December air seemed to revive him as he exited the shipyard. He spent the early part of the morning completing Christmas gift shopping for his family. Although it took his last dollar, Gordon tried his best get his kids exactly what they asked for. In total he had spent several hard earned dollars, which was a lot to a low income family living in urban America.

Gordon arrived home around 11a.m. exhausted from his efforts. He had been shopping for four hours since he left the shipyard. He parked his 1988 Buick, one block away from his apartment complex, due to the crowded parking spaces filled with broken down vehicles that had been sitting for the past few months, other vehicles belonged to friends and family of out of town guest of tenants that shared his apartment building. Holidays and funerals were the only time there seemed to be a shortage on parking spaces. Gordon got out of his car removing an old gray wool blanket from his trunk, which was fi lled to capacity with work gear, old tools , and a few Christmas gifts he managed to fit in there. He used the old blanket to cover the gifts on the back seat of the car so no one would see them as they walked by, however, his actions were observed by two junkies standing on the corner hustling; selling crack cocaine to support their own drug habit. Zapp and Manny were a nuisance to the whole community and Gordon had zero tolerance for their dope fiend mentality. Every time Zapp and Manny sold a twenty dollar rock of crack cocaine they would earn a five dollar crack rock for themselves, the were truly nickel and dime hustlers. They sold for Rockman, one of the neighborhoods most notorious drug dealers…Mr. Gordon walked with fatigue towards his apartment complex not noticing his car had been targeted for a score. Yo homeboy, you see that , you see dat shit?..that’s our hustle…dat nigga got something in his car he’s trying to hide! Zapp looked at his partner of crime Manny as if they had just won the lottery. How much do you think we gonna get Manny? Shit Zapp, how the hell do I know, probably at least one or two hundred dollars worth of stuff, depending on what he got in there. No shit!! Zapp answered staring hopefully at the blue Buick. Zapp and Manny cased the Buick most of the day awaiting their opportunity to break in as they continued their day hustling rocks and getting high……..You know baby? Mr. Gordon said to his wife standing at the stove about 5ft 2 with a beautiful caramel complexion , long shoulder length dark brown hair, and eyes to match, preparing Christmas dinner. The gifts our kids wanted this Christmas were really expensive, but its worth it to see the joy and happiness that will be on their faces."

You re a wonderful father and a sweet husband Thomas. Responded Mrs. Gordon as she placed a turkey in the oven. We may be poor, but at least we are happy and together as a family. Gordon felt great pride in his wife’s enthusiasm. You can say that again. He said, kissing her on the forehead as she turned towards him. I am gonna go take a shower and a nap. It was obvious he was fatigued from his efforts as he exited the kitchen…………….Manny had just returned from the corner store with a fifth of wine. Zapp placed a five dollar rock of cocaine in his homemade crack tool. Yo Manny, let me hold your cigarette lighter. Na, let me hit that shit first Zapp, then you can hold my lighter! Hell no man!!…let me hold your lighter first, you hit after me!!

Zapp and Manny were now standing inside the hallway of one of the apartment Complexes. Zapp took the lighter from Manny, lit his crack tool and inhaled Slowly. Easy man, save some of that shit for me!! Zapp no longer trembled, he Stood calm and relaxed. The chemical effects of the drug consumed his spirit, he stood staring forward as if he had been hypnotized. Yo Zapp, snap out of it. Give me a hit!! Zapp passed the lighter with hesitation. Manny in turn handed Zapp the wine bottle. Manny lit the homemade crack tool, which was made from a broken TV antenna about three inches long, with a rubber tip made of several layers of rubber bands, which formed a mouth piece to prevent him from burning his lips when the antenna got hot from the heat of the flame. The hollow tip of the tool was stuffed with copper from a brillo pad to filter the rock cocaine placed inside the antenna. This homemade crack tool was known as a straight shooter, which sped up the effects of smoking rock cocaine allowing it to reach the lungs faster.

Soon as some of these people carry their ass in the house we can score on that car Manny. Word, that’s what’s up homeboy! answered Manny. I got this clothes hanger from that Korean guy who owns the food store on the corner we can use it to pick the car lock. Hey Zapp! the effects of the cocaine was beginning to make them feel elated. Hey Zapp, you hear me talking to you motherfucker? What the hell you want man, you fucking up my high. " Manny continued to light the straight shooter, while Zapp took two swigs from the wine bottle squenching up his face. The hits of the cocaine didn’t last long and the elated effects of the drug soon subsided dropping them to pits of despair, craving more and more…………………

Mr. Gordon had just awoke from his nap, it was now 5:30 p.m. and starting to get dark outside, although not fully rested he knew he d better start bringing the gifts in from the car before the hour got much later. He donned his pants, socks, shoes, and jacket walking out on to the balcony to smoke a cigarette and watch the sun set before bringing the gifts inside. Seconds later he glanced down the street taking notice of Zapp and Manny inserting the unfolded clothes hanger inside his car window. They had been waiting all day for the sun to go down to make their move. Zapp wanted to bust a move earlier and simply didn’t care, however Manny thought it would be much safer to pursue their felonious target minus daylight. He was always the leader of the two, and from past criminal endeavors Zapp learned to respect Manny‘s judgment. However this time Manny’s street instinct would prove to be fatal.

Hey stop! What the hell are you doing?!! Gordon yelled. Zapp and Manny glanced up at him, but continued their felonious endeavor. An instant rage filled Gordon’s body. He ran back inside his apartment grabbing his 357 magnum handgun from a black duffle bag on the top shelf of his bedroom closet. Mrs. Gordon heard him searching through the closet in a rampage and ran to the bedroom immediately. She stared at her husband in disbelief. Honey what s wrong? What are you doing with the gun?! Gordon ran out of the apartment as if he were possessed by a demon almost trampling his four year old daughter Keisha, who was playing with her dolls in the hallway. Gordon’s apartment was on the third floor, running down the stairway he skipped the stairs three at a time until he reached the ground floor. Bursting through the doorway he ran down the street brandishing the 357 magnum in his right hand, halfway to his car he gasped a breath and yelled. Put my shit down motherfucker’s, right now. Zapp and Manny had already started removing gifts from his car. Put my shit down now nigga!! Gordon demanded.

Zapp reached inside his coat in attempt to pull out a knife. Gordon fi red two shots, one of which hit Zapp in the forehead spattering his brains all over Manny, who removed a snub nose 38. caliber handgun from beneath his jacket. Gordon fired two more shots that landed in Manny s chest. Manny fell back to the ground dying instantly, his chest cavity disfi gured as a mass of blood poured from it. Neighbors and on lookers observed from afar watching intensely as Gordon picked up his gifts placing them back inside his car…. Gordon walked back towards the apartment complex as if he were in a daze.

On lookers began gathering around the dead bleeding bodies of Zapp and Manny lying on the pavement. Gordon was about to enter his building when three police cars pulled up. Four policemen jumped out of their vehicles drawing their handguns, ordering Gordon to drop his gun. Ok fellow, drop your weapon! The officers handguns were aiming directly at Gordon, one false move and he was dead. Gordon stood on the sidewalk with the 357 magnum at his side, pointed towards the ground. Onlookers took cover, however watched intensely from afar peering over the hood of cars and lurking around walls of buildings near by. Gordon dropped the gun to the ground and not a second to soon, one of the offi cers on the scene was about to pull his trigger aiming directly at Gordon s right shoulder. As soon as the gun hit the ground two of the officers moved in quickly placing Gordon under arrest. The city crime unit arrived on the crime scene sealing it off with yellow tape as police officers and other law enforcement agents confiscated weapons and other evidence linked to the fatal homicides. Gordon sat in the back of a police car with his hands cuffed behind his back trying to figure out what the hell he’d done, never before had he lost total control of his temper, however just last year around this time he was robbed at gun point after cashing his pay check. He swore revenge on the bastards that robbed him, but never found out who they were. The flashing lights atop the police cars seemed to illuminate the whole block, Jessie watched from above with his younger brothers and sister, peering over the balcony as their mother clung to the side of the police car trying to touch her husband one last time. One of the female officers on the scene placed her arm around Mrs. Gordon escorting her away from the police car in attempt to calm her. Tyrone, the Gordon’s eldest son who just recently celebrated his twentieth birthday two months ago had just returned from the football field with some of his friends. He dropped the football starring in disbelief and began running to his mothers side. Ma, Ma what happened? Why are the police taking my father away?!!" His mothers mental state of somber prevented her from answering. The devastated crowd began to disperse uttering comments about the fatal homicides that had just occurred moments earlier………..

Did you see it? Yeah, Mr. Gordon is a mean man, don’t fuck wit him and his! He s cool man, he don t take no shit responded another

youth, as the crowd of excited spectators continued to disperse……

Mr. Gordon was charged with first degree murder times two, illegal use of a firearm, and sentenced two life terms in prison with eligibility for parole in five years, since defense attorneys argued Gordon suffered momentary insanity and killed Zapp and Manny in self defense. However, prosecuting attorneys still sought charges of premeditated murder. After six months Gordon was transferred from The Maryland State Hospital for the criminally insane to the Maryland State penitentiary, however word of his arrival to The Pen, was known weeks before he got there. Inmates had their own way of communicating and networking information and Gordon was a man with a price on his head. He arrived to The state penitentiary lonely and full of despair. His mannerisms were awkward as prison guards escorted him through the corridor in wrist and leg shackles which clang together with each