Mother Nature’S Mistake
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By age ten, Shane thinks if he can handle the punishment, no one can really make him pay for the crime. Shane first delves into a life of delinquency by stealing bikes and pawning them to the local drug dealers. But it is not long after he buys his first gun that he murders the ice cream lady in cold blood. In just twenty-four hours, Shane officially transforms from a petty thief into a ruthless killer and drug slinger who, by the age of eighteen, accumulates over a million dollars.
As Shane continues to murder without shame, he meets Cindy, a stripper who steals his heart and eventually gives birth to his first child, Junior. Despite Cindys pleas to leave his life of crime behind, Shane seeks revenge for a shooting that leaves him fighting for his life. After murdering a neighborhood pastor and his mother, Shane marries Cindy and begins pimpinga decision that eventually lands him in jail and leaves Junior to begin his own ambitious rise through the darkness that lurks in the streets.
Mother Natures Mistake presents a raw, chilling account of life in the ghetto as two men separated by generations attempt to bridge the gap between family, manhood, and themselves.
Garth A. Edgar
Garth A. Edgar was born and raised in Jamaica as the only boy of four children. He grew up in Spanish Town where he yearned for the chance to immigrate to Canada. As a teenager, he resided in New York City before finally reuniting with his mother and sisters in Canada.
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Mother Nature’S Mistake - Garth A. Edgar
Copyright © 2013 by Garth A. Edgar.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-4759-6543-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-6544-5 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-6545-2 (ebk)
iUniverse rev. date: 06/27/2013
Contents
Prologue
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Copyright.pdfPrologue
BORN A GANGSTER, lived like the next man, and did what I had to in order to survive.
Life was filled with ups and downs, but I walked a straight line and killed for what I wanted.
Anyone who got in my way, suffered a worse faith.
I wasn’t someone whose toes you’d want to step on or even threaten.
Shane is my name and killing was my game.
This is my search to find out what life was really all about.
Part One
It was the early 90’s when I was just ten growing up. My world consisted of 4 to 5 blocks, of sidewalks, red bricks, store fronts, and government housing. The Jungle is what we called it, better yet it was what the media called it and some of those of us who lived there wore the title with honor. In The Jungle I ran the streets wild like any parentless cub would do. I wasn’t entirely an orphan but I never had a father around and it was just me and my mom, she was never home, always working to keep me fed, but that was cool with me. I had enough time to do what I wanted. (My name is Shane, and this is my story.)
At ten, I started to steal bikes and pawn them to the local drug dealers, they would turn around and flip them to their home country. Depending on the style and speed of the bike, I would get between twenty to fifty bucks. At my age, back then I was making good money, but I wanted more. Business was good until one day I got caught by the Police. They didn’t do much but give me a ticket, take me to the station, and call my mother.
My mother had grown up in a strict Jamaican home and wanted me under a similar rule, so she didn’t take it lightly. I got an ass whipping that day. It seemed like she put her whole little 5'4 body into those licks. Yelling, What were you thinking about boy, stealing bikes?
I got an even worse whipping every time I didn’t respond.
After I work so hard all day, I have to come home to bail you out of jail?!?! What were you thinking about?
she’d continue.
That was the first time I could remember getting my ass whipped, but I never forgot it. It was then I realized that once you can handle the punishment, no one can ever really make you pay for the crime. She punished me for a month and I had to do extras around the house, but I still never listened to her. Two weeks later I was at it again, she was at work and so was I.
After a year of stealing, I made enough to get my first gun. I wanted one because all the dealers had one, and even though I was just eleven, it was time for me to come up. They were my role models, closest things I had to big brothers, and a father. Some kids older brothers are stars of the basketball team and they dream of getting their own ball for Christmas. My brothers
were trap stars and Christmas didn’t come to Jungle. One day I had the gun with me and my intention was to rob the ice cream man. They usually had a coil of money on them and it seemed easy enough. Turned out it wasn’t a man though, it was a lady, now I felt even more confident. I walked up, gun tucked in my tattered jeans, and made what I thought was the most innocent face I could imagine and pointed to the picture of a cone and asked her Can I get an ice cream for half price?
No!
she chuckled in reply, sorry hun no charity here…
Instantly I was angry, the innocence was wiped from my face as I pulled out a buck fifty for the full price and waited for her to hand me the ice cream. As she reached into the cold freezer to get the cone I shivered, not sure if it was from the freezer or my heart that had frozen with anger. I reached into my pants slowly as she turned to serve me, lifted the gun with a smirk on my face and pumped five bullets into her chest, put the money back into my pocket and ran. That was the first time I had ever killed someone, it didn’t feel bad and, I didn’t feel anything. It surprised me that all I could think was that was easy
, it was a rush I’d never felt before, but I was more than ready to feel again.
It was all over the newspaper, Ice Cream Lady Killed!
No one knew the reason for her death and more importantly, no one knew it was me. I liked it that way, unlike most kids, I never told my secrets to anyone, especially if I didn’t know what that person was about. Men do what they have to and don’t need to brag about it
the older heads on the block would say. And now I felt like a grown man inside a boy’s body.
The next day I went to go chill with the older heads and see if anyone was talking about the shooting. They all were; that was the topic of the day.
Did you hear what happened to the ice cream lady?
said KJ he was the youngest.
She got shot five times for no reason. That’s some crazy shit!
I laughed.
What the fuck’s so funny Shane?
the other dealer asked.
I shrugged, It’s an inside joke.
Rudy The dealer, who had sold me the gun, pulled me aside. He was always trying to school me on the street life and everyday life. I looked up to the slender, bald man my whole short life. He dressed well and always wore the cleanest white sneakers, I remembered I always wanted them. Tried to play my dad, but he didn’t know I didn’t have want or use for one of those anymore. He asked if I knew anything about the shooting. I denied knowing anything, but he kept going.
Don’t give me that bullshit. I sold you a gun, and months later someone turns up dead and your sitting here laughing about it?!
I simply replied, That’s the way it is.
I could hear him say I gotta keep my eye on you little man
, as I went on my way.
Oh, by the way, can I spot some drugs off of you?
I inquired. I don’t have any money right now, but I can hit you back in a couple of days.
He gave me a few nickel and dime bags of weed, and like that I was a murderer and drug dealer in less than 24hrs.
It was cool for a while; I would sell at schools and on the streets. I had a pretty good clientele there for a minute. But one thing they never talk about on the new casts and the movies is how hard drug dealing can be. A true pharmacist is a 24/7 job, no rest, buckets will link you at any hour of the day to get their high. I wasn’t in it for the hard work I wanted money, and fast!! Then I figured I could just start robbing the drug dealers, it was simple math, I started to rob instead of selling because I profited more. I had a gun that was always loaded. First I focused on the dealers my age and I would rob alone so if I ever got caught no one could snitch on me. Robbing became my full time job.
One cold night I stuck up a dealer named Loki, who didn’t want to give up his money or drugs. Loki was known in the hood as a tough hombre. The type of guy everyone was afraid to cross, I think that’s why I picked him first. He’d make a great example to anyone else I was gonna rob after. 6'4 and 230 Loki was a hardly a shadow of a man but was as dark as one. He set up shop usually just outside of the 213 apartment building on Lattimore, in the parking lot. Always posted up in a red 1996 Mazda 626, he sat alone, thinking that his rep protected him more than any street muscle could. I studied his movements for a week and was ready to pounce on my prey. I walked up to the car slowly disguising my steps with a slow limp. My gun was cocked in my black hoodie and all day I had practiced how fast I needed to pull it out in the mirror. When I got to the driver side window I realized he hadn’t even looked up from fiddling with the radio. I knocked on the window, without raising his head Loki wound it down and said what you need man?
everything
I said in a low voice. I can tell it got his attention because he looked up with surprise what?!
he laughed as he looked me in the eye this ain’t comedy night lil nigga and you ain’t funny! What the fuck you want!!
Oh you didn’t hear me? Ok well who can’t hear must feel…
I put one shot in his head and then showered his body with ten more shots. The first bullet was a message to him the other 9 for the streets. And they now knew; if you went against me that would be the outcome—death.
Later I went back to rudy who sold me the gun to get some more bullets. Once again he tried to play mentor and our conversation was about me and my gun.
What happened to the bullets that were in the gun?
I had to take them out… I paused
. . . on another dealer." I laughed inside but kept my face and eyes straight and fixed on Jimmy’s reaction.
Yeah,
he said. I had a feeling it was you, what the fuck were you thinking? What’s goin on with you?!
That’s when I realized he knew what I’d been doing, so I told him