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The Paradox of Damian
The Paradox of Damian
The Paradox of Damian
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The Paradox of Damian

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The Paradox Of Damian is about love and family...but I'm open for argument. Some will argue that 'The Paradox Of Damian' is about hate. And I understand...after all a lot of people die in this book. If I have to argue, I think that one of my arguments will be for one to study the parables that dom the pages of the great spiritual book called the Bhagavad Gita; a book studied by such as the likes of a Albert Einstein.It was the great Mahatma Ghandi who called the Bhagavad Gita "Spiritual Mother." In essence I believe that the main characters in 'The Paradox Of Damian'kill out of love and not hate.

The Paradox Of Damian' touches on politics. My personal opinion is that one's politics doesn't matter. If the underline theme in one's heart isn't about love, then they probably shouldn't read this book...there are many millions more to read.

And last but certainly not least, if in this new millennium one is racist, or are offended by gay people, or both, then you probably shouldn't read this book-there are many books out there for you too. Rather one reads this book or not, thanks for reading period.

May the Universe always bless you
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateApr 8, 2014
ISBN9781491859483
The Paradox of Damian
Author

Clinton "Jawad" Pace

Clinton "Jawad" Pace grew up in 7 oakes-a section of Orange, New Jersey-2 minutes away from the Newark and 20 minutes away for New York city.

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    The Paradox of Damian - Clinton "Jawad" Pace

    CHAPTER 1

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    Is that all you need Mrs. McCoy? The little boy asked as he stood by the door preparing to exit the apartment. Yes, that’s all baby, Mrs. McCoy said.

    The little boy pulled out money from his pants pocket and offered some to Mrs. McCoy. "Do you need some money? I don’t need all of this Mrs. McCoy," the little boy said.

    At 67 years old, still bright eyed with beautiful skin, Mrs. McCoy was a large robust of a woman with a nice figure for her age. Back in the day, when she was 70 pounds lighter, she turned many heads with her great figure.

    Her heart ached for this boy. His eyebrows were so thick, eyelashes so long over his big brown eyes that she, at times, reminded herself that he was a little boy who didn’t wear fake eyelashes, this intrigued Aggie McCoy.

    Baby, I have plenty of money, what makes you think I don’t? Mrs. McCoy asked.

    I don’t know, I just want to make sure your good, the little boy said.

    This boy is so sweet. I’m good, in fact, I’m great. Its little boys like you that help me feel great… thank you. OK, you tell somebody to come get me if you need me… OK Mrs. McCoy? Yes baby. See you later. Bye baby.

    He unlocked the door, opened it, and exited the apartment. Mrs. McCoy went right behind him and locked the door. She then went into the small pantry closet, where she kept her kitchen apron and put it on.

    That boy a demon, Herbert Lee McCoy said.

    Herbert Lee was Aggie’s husband for 50 years. At the age of 68, he was just as strong as men half his age. Big, with broad shoulders, a pot belly, bald head and strong features; while Aggie stood only 5'3, Herbert Lee towered over her at 6'5. But the size difference didn’t matter. Herbert Lee treated his wife as gentle as one would treat a new born baby. They fell in love at first sight. And each of them had never been with another man or woman intimately, before or after their marriage. They adored each other."

    His name is Damian," Aggie McCoy said.

    I know’s that boy’s name. I’m tellin you what he is, Herbert Lee said as he stared out of the window and watched Damian exit the building. Aggie walked to that same window. She stood behind Herbert Lee, fastened her apron and then put her hands on her wide hips.

    Herbert Lee, how can you say such a thing about that precious boy? Mrs. McCoy asked.

    How? Oh you must have forgotten, I raised fo’ chillen right here in these here projects. All my chillen graduated from college, never been in any kind of trouble. Why? Cause I knows what not to do to get into trouble. I sees trouble a mile away, trouble has always had a problem with me, because it could never catch me. I sees it and it turns away. That boy can’t be no more than nine, Herbert Lee said.

    No, he’s ten.

    Nine, ten, what difference does it make? He going to come in my house and offer you money… like we need his money. I worked hard for them General Motors people for more than forty years… those folks made me retire, as if I isn’t stronger than anyone of them folks that was there in that there plant. Herbert Lee that has to be one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever met in my life, always trying to help us old folks. Not just me, all of us and you have the audacity to call him a demon. Woman, I got your audacity, leave him with me for about a week. I’ll beat that demon out of him.

    Herbert! Aggie shouted as she flared her arms in the air.

    Aggie then walked up to the side of Herbert Lee and poked him on the side of his head as she spoke with her teeth clinched: I’m really ashamed that you can say those things about that sweet boy, Mrs. McCoy said.

    Then, getting a hold of her temper, Aggie took a step back away from her husband, and in a soft whisper said, Please—stop saying that.

    Herbert Lee knew right there that he had gone to far. Not because he believed Damian not to be a demon. But because he truly hated the fact that he had hurt his wife’s feelings.

    Still, he thought he should at least get her to try and understand his reasoning.

    Look woman-look right out of this window. Look at the crowd that boy be with. He so small, half the time you can’t even see him. But I sees, and them boys is no good-and where that boy get that money from? Herbert Lee asked.

    Herbert Lee, that might have been forty or fifty dollars, why are you acting as if he had a lot of money? Furthermore, why don’t you ask him yourself? Mrs. McCoy asked.

    That’s just it, I did ask him-no I told him, he better stop being in them streets doing what he be doing… selling them drugs and messing people minds up. No you didn’t say that to that baby, Herbert Lee. I sure did… called him up here a few weeks ago, while you were at church. Sat him down on that there couch and chastised him like he was one of my own.

    So now I suppose you’re going to tell me that he told you he sells drugs? No, the total opposite, the boy looked me dead in my eyes and frowned, as if I assaulted him… sat right there for a few minutes saying nothing. Then smiled at me and said, ‘Mr. McCoy, I would never do anything like that.’ I asked him why he seemed to have that big smile on his face? He had the nerve to tell me that he only ten and if I think he a hustler then I must think he do big boy things.

    Herbert watched his wife stifle a laugh.

    It’s not funny Aggie. Anyway, I ignored his butt and asked him why is he always hanging around hoodlums? He had the nerve to tell me that he doesn’t hang around hoodlums, they hang around him, and he doesn’t want to hurt their feelings by telling them to get away from him.

    Aggie started laughing.

    What so funny woman? Herbert Lee asked. He told you the truth, Mrs. McCoy said. I’m not going to argue with you woman.

    Herbert walked away from the window and sat down on the newly acquired sofa that his daughter had to force him to accept. She was tired of the furniture that she and her 3 siblings grew up with all of their lives. Herbert Lee vehemently complained that there was not a thing wrong with the old furniture, even the plastic on the old furniture was in fair condition. It was Aggie who put her foot down and accepted the new furniture.

    All 4 of the McCoy siblings were successful: The 2 oldest, who were men, were lawyers, the third and last were women, both doctors. And though Aggie was able to put her foot down pertaining to accepting the new furniture, she was in total agreement with her husband not to move out of the projects.

    Built in 1950 for the G.I.’s that came home from World War 2, taken by Newark as a low rent housing unit, the project is named for Joseph P. Bradley (1813-1892). Contrary to what many people believe, the ghettoes of America consist of honest people that work hard. The people that live in the Joseph P. Bradley projects are definitely in that category-they are honest and work hard. Most of the fiends that occupy the courts that are adjacent to the project building don’t even live in the Bradley court projects.

    None of the Bureaucrats from the surrounding suburbia that frequented Bradley Courts Projects on their lunch break with their government issued cars and buy drugs live in the projects.

    The drug trade that Maxine Waters had proof the C.I.A. financed in the early 80’s is still rampant 30 years later at Bradley Court Housing Complex. But it was home to the McCoy family, they couldn’t fathom living anywhere else. The 3 bedrooms, small kitchen, dining room/living room and bathroom are a place of intimacy that no amount of money can buy. The energy of love was undeniable in the McCoy household, so thick one can cut it with a knife.

    The McCoy clan learned to walk, talk, and display a discipline that kept all 4 of them honor students from the first day each of them enrolled into pre-school, all the way through college, law and medical schools. The McCoy siblings begged their parents to move away from the Joseph P. Bradley projects. They offered to buy their parents any kind of house in any suburb that their parents could choose, but to no avail.

    The most excitement Herbert Lee would get pertaining to change is when the siblings traded his old wooden box shape floor model television for a Sony plasma television. And that was basically because Herbert Lee’s eyes were becoming bad as he became older. Eventually, over the years, the siblings had managed to change the interior of the whole apartment. Even though the apartment was not as modest as the siblings would have liked, it was at least contemporary.

    Herbert Lee, Damian doesn’t lie, he won’t lie. I asked him myself does he know what certain individuals do that I’ve seen around him. His answer is always the same: He tells me he doesn’t do bad things. So tell me Aggie, what makes you think that boy isn’t lying? "Besides the fact I’m more than half a century years older than him… or maybe because I raised four kids of my own… try this Herbert Lee, how about I’m just not stupid.

    Yes, he does know what those boys do out there, and any time I pressed him to tell me, he became very uncomfortable and found a way to leave me… always politely. That’s not the trait of a liar Herbert Lee. Woman if you ask me, you are making my point. As you tell it, the boy is ten, what ten year old evades the question of grown folks… politely? You don’t think I see how respectful that boy is? How he bats his eyes and gives that smile on his baby face?

    Then systematically articulate being an innocent little boy. Tell me Aggie, what innocent little boy hangs out with gangsters? Them there boys he bees with will kill you just as fast as you can blink. Then go to your funeral, hug the momma, and try to court the girl. Only a demon disguised as a little boy can demonstrate such calmness.

    It’s like a lion disguised as a sheep, hanging in the crowd with a bunch of other lions; only the other lions won’t attack the sheep because the lions know the sheep really one of them… stop thinking he a sheep Aggie, he a lion. Which one is he, lion or demon? He lion, demon, and a pint sized gangster," Herbert Lee said.

    Herbert’s wife just stared at him, then after a moment or so went by: "You know, at first I was upset with you Herbert Lee. Just like I was upset with your mother because she never accepted the color of my skin… . God bless her soul. Then there is your sister. For years I was upset with her because she also didn’t accept my children because of their pretty dark skin.

    As if because her children have light colored skin, they were better than my children. Then guess what Herbert Lee? All her children ended up either strung out on drugs, in prison or both. So what in God’s heaven did I have to be upset about? They all directly or indirectly had to apologize to me and my children. The same as one day you’ll have to apologize for spitting that venom at Damian. I’ve watched that precious boy for years, and though I know nothing about reincarnation, if there is such a thing, Damian is it. Because I swear, that boy has been here before.

    I’ve never in my life even thought of other men. I’ve always had the best man… your special Herbert Lee. My children are special-I know special when I see it-special has been manifested in almost my entire life. You are wrong about Damian. Once, he told me he is going to change the world… I believe him."

    CHAPTER 2

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    Yo’ Bullet, what’s up? Damian asked. Nothing little man, what’s up with you? Bullet responded. Um… nothing just helped Mrs. McCoy with her groceries. Little nigga, did you get paid for it? Hector asked.

    Hector was one of Bullet’s lieutenants. Damian didn’t respond; he just stared at Hector, wondering how his head became so long.

    Bullet was the neighborhood drug kingpin. He was 5'9, 190 pounds all muscle, dark skin with long dreads and a rough rugged look that the girls adored.

    Bullet watched Damian stare at Hector. He always admired how Damian seemed well beyond his years.

    "Why this little motherfucker always looking at me like that? Hector asked.

    Damian didn’t flinch, not even a blink.

    Probably because he thinks you’re the dumbest motherfucker to walk this earth, Bullet said. Why, cause I asked him did he get paid? Hector asked. No, that’s not the reason why he thinks you’re the dumbest motherfucker to walk this earth, it’s because you shouldn’t have asked him no shit like that, Bullet said. Son, I- Hector tried to elaborate before Bullet shut him down. Let it go Hector… just shut the fuck up… damn."

    Then Bullet asked, Little man, where your comrades at? They close, Damian said.

    Bullet had no doubt that Damian told the truth. In Bullet’s mind, it’s like they had radar built into each other. Sometimes Bullet would test his theory, that day was one of the days.

    Hey little man, what’s up? Bullet asked as he started to circle Damian.

    Damian, seeing what was going on, assumed his Kung Fu position, circled with Bullet, while he kept his eyes steady on Bullet.

    What do you want to be up Bullet? Damian asked.

    Bullet broke down into a fake karate pose, and though Bullet was a terrific fighter, the only thing he really knew about martial arts is what Damian had showed him.

    What style is that? Damian asked. My style, Bullet said.

    With the speed of lightning, Damian attacked Bullet. Even though Damian was too small to do any real damage, Bullet tried to stay away and block as many punches and kicks as he possibly could.

    Hector took a seat on the cemented project steps. He watched in awe the form of this 10 year old. Whenever Bullet would attack Damian, Damian would somersault backwards. Then he would come out of it in a full split on the ground. Or, at times, if there was a wall or pole for Damian to balance on, he would come out of the somersault and balance himself in a full split on one of them. Within minutes, Bullet’s prediction came into fruition: Amelia went flying in from the back side of the project’s courts. Shona was a few seconds behind. Both of them went straight at Bullet. But before they could get to him, he went into his pocket, then pulled out a wad of money and said, Alright, Alright… here.

    Amelia, Shona and Damian had Bullet surrounded. Bullet handed Amelia three twenty dollar bills. Amelia looked closely at the money, she then frowned her face as if the money was poison. She looked at both Damian and Shona, they gestured no by shaking their heads side to side. Immediately, all three of them attacked Bullet, striking Bullet from all angles.

    Alright-shit… here, Bullet said.

    They stopped attacking Bullet, while he managed to go into his front pants pocket and pulled out the wad of money. Without counting the money, Bullet peeled off a knot of it and handed it to Amelia.

    Amelia looked at it and said to no one in particular, Now that’s more like it.

    She then balled up her fist and touched fists with Damian and Shona.

    We love you Bullet, Amelia, Damian, and Shona said simultaneously. They turned around and walked away while Amelia divided the money up evenly between the three.

    I’m a fuck y’all up if y’all try that shit again, Bullet screamed. Whatever, the three screamed back simultaneously while Bullet watched them disappear into the court.

    CHAPTER 3

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    Hustleman how you going to do us like that? Shona asked. Look little girl, do you have any idea of how much this thing cost? Hustleman asked. No, and being that you stole it you probably don’t know what it cost either, Shona said. One hundred dollars, that’s my final offer, Hustleman said. We got fifty dollars Hustleman. And if you don’t hurry up and take it, we going to mess around and get this thing for free, Shona said as she watched Damian stare into Hustleman’s van window, admiring an object.

    Hustleman pointed his index finger at Shona, Amelia and Damian before he said, Little girl, you, her and this other bad ass brat always want something for nothing, and it just doesn’t work like that.

    You didn’t say that when we stole the keys from maintenance almost every day in the winter, so you can sleep in the boiler room with some heat, and not in that cold raggedy van, Amelia said. Yeah, that’s right Hustleman, Shona said. I could have snuck the keys myself… I didn’t need y’all, Hustleman said. Whatever Hustleman, we the only ones that care about you and this is how you do us? Fine, Amelia said.

    Then she walked toward Damian.

    Damian get away from that raggedy ass van… Shona lets go, Amelia said. Fuck it, fifty dollars, no less, Hustleman said. No, we don’t want it, but you have to leave from around here, Amelia said.

    What? Hustleman asked. You heard… leave from around here, Shona said. OK, I see what’s going on, you little brats started getting high, talking about I have to leave from around here-is y’all fuckin crazy? Hustleman asked. Yeah, we crazy and high off the stash you stole last night, Amelia said. What? Hustleman asked. Why you always say what when you know damn well you heard us Hustleman? Amelia asked. Because when I hear lies, I have to make sure I’m hearing right, Hustleman said. Lies huh? So you didn’t steal Romey’s stash last night, and two weeks ago steal Pez’s stash? Amelia asked. And how the fuck did y’all come up with that? Hustleman asked.

    Why do you think nobody has been getting busted lately? We’re on the roof with our binoculars and we have our old school chirp phones— Shona said. Amelia screamed, Shona!

    Amelia looked at Shona angrily.

    What roof? Police padlock the doors, Hustleman said. Don’t worry about what roof, Amelia said. Y’all didn’t see me take no stash… y’all bluffing, Hustleman said. Do you really want to find out if we are bluffing?" Amelia asked.

    You don’t think we seen you wait until Romey big mouth baby momma come and cause all that drama? Which gave you the opportunity to go under the car, and snatch the magnetic box with the stash in it, Shona said.

    Now, you want us to tell you how you stole Pez’s stash? How you watched the police record check Pez, while you snuck across the street and took his stash out of the bushes. Then you had the nerve to sit across the street and watch Pez blame Cathy… we was waiting for him to hit her, so we could tell Pez who really took his stash, Shona said. He didn’t hit Cathy, only because he couldn’t prove it… but we can prove you took it… . Amelia said.

    You little stinking bitches-fuck it, give me twenty five dollars, Hustleman said.

    As soon as Amelia and Shona heard the word bitches come out of Hustleman’s mouth, they froze and stared at each other, while Damian watched them both.

    Did he just call us bitches? Amelia asked Shona.

    Shona just stared at Amelia in silence, as if she was in shock.

    It was Damian that spoke up.

    Yup, that’s what he said, b.i.t.c.h.e.s. See now you got to give it to us for free, Amelia said. What? Hustleman asked while trying to sound more confident than he really was.

    Listen, y’all know if Bullet finds out that y’all playing lookout, he going to be mad as hell. So just give me twenty five dollars, y’all don’t tell, I don’t tell. Look, we saving Bullet money and he too stupid to see that, just like you too stupid to see we ain’t playing with you, Amelia said.

    Amelia then used her hand as a divider to cover her eyes from the sunlight, before she looked across the far end of the court.

    I think I see Romey… I’ll be right back, Amelia said. Hustleman looked on as Amelia walked a few feet, and then watched her scream, Rooomeeey. Damian and Shona joined in, Rooomeeey.

    Wait… wait-ten dollars, that’s all, Hustleman said.

    Hustleman hurried over to his van tripping over his own feet because he was so busy trying to see how far Amelia was going to walk toward the court. Amelia had already stopped. She watched Hustleman watch her and at the same time fumble with his van door before he opened it and grabbed the telescope out of the middle seat. Then he closed the door back and stood outside the van holding the telescope.

    Amelia and Shona Both stood there, both with their hands on their hips as they leaned on one leg. Hustleman observed them both. Amelia was big for a thirteen year old with long thick braids and a round baby face. Shona also thirteen years old, was tall, rail thin, with red skin and flaming red hair and a face full of freckles. Hustleman knew that deep in his heart was a genuine love for both those two young girls and their little side kick Damian.

    The problem was drug residue by the pounds covered the heart of Hustleman. And it stopped him from reciprocating the love he always received from the three youngsters that stood before him. As for now, the grime in his thinking out did itself and it was either hand over the telescope, or he grasp the chance of being hurt real bad or murdered.

    Shit-fuck… here, Hustleman said.

    Hustleman walked over to Damian and handed him the telescope. Damian was beaming with joy as he thought of all the fun things he, Amelia and Shona would do with it.

    Amelia and Shona walked over to help Damian carry the object that was half the height of Damian and weighed just as much.

    Hustleman opened his door and climbed inside his van before he screamed out the open windows, Don’t say shit to me no fuckin more.

    Amelia, Damian and Shona walked in the parking lot toward one of the project’s back courts and without turning around, they simultaneously said, Whatever.

    15 MINUTES LATER

    Right smack in the middle of Bradley Court Projects was a basketball court. At any given day, thousands of dollars exchanged hands from bets on the games that are played there:

    Oooooooh! Bullet shouted, as he watched a young kid slam dunk on his opponent.

    The young kid played for the team Bullet was betting to win.

    Bullet… Bullet, Hustleman said.

    Bullet ignored Hustleman, though he was aware of Hustleman’s presence.

    Yo’ nigga, can’t you see he busy? One of Bullet’s lieutenants asked.

    I ain’t talking to you… mind your business, Hustleman said. Say that shit again, so I can stick this knife in your neck, old ass motherfucka, said the lieutenant while he pulled out a switch blade and went dangerously close to Hustleman. Put that shit away, show the old head some respect, Bullet said while he pulled Hustleman out of harm’s way. Fuck him, the lieutenant said.

    The lieutenant went back to watching the game as if nothing ever happened.

    What do you want Hustleman, and it better be good? Bullet asked as they walked away from the edge of the court, while Bullet peeped back at the game.

    After they walked about 30 feet, they stopped. Bullet looked at Hustleman, who still was in silence.

    What the fuck do you want? Bullet asked. Have you noticed anything different? Hustleman asked.

    Bullet grabbed his goatee and played with the hairs, while he momentarily stared at Hustleman.

    Hustleman, do I look like I want to answer twenty one questions? Because if that’s the look you’re receiving, then you have a total misconception. The look should be telling you that if you don’t hurry up and speak what’s on your mind, I’m going to leave your ass standing here, Bullet said. Alright then, those fuckin brats you always have around, they are ‘lookouts,’ Hustleman said.

    Bullet’s whole body stiffened up. The look in his eyes became cold and his whole demeanor changed.

    What the fuck did you just say? Bullet asked. I think you heard me… they got binoculars, chirps… now they even got a telescope.

    Bullet paced back and forth before he said, Follow me.

    Both Bullet and Hustleman walked through the parking lot and walked into one of the project’s buildings. As soon they entered the building, Bullet stopped and grabbed Hustleman by the arm before he said, Nigga you need to be real careful about how you answer these next few questions. Now, who are they looking out for?

    You.

    Me?

    Before Hustleman knew what had happened, he saw lights that flashed as he lay on the dirty project floor from being smacked with a vicious right hand from Bullet.

    Nigga, didn’t I tell you to be real fuckin careful about how you answer questions, Bullet said.

    Hustleman was the same weight as Bullet and that’s where the parallel ended. Hustleman was a straight fiend. Bullet never got high. Hustleman was thirty and looked fifty. Bullet was twenty and looked sixteen. Hustleman would fight you if he thought he could win. Bullet didn’t think anybody could beat him so he would fight anybody. And for this reason Bullet was notorious and dangerous.

    Hustleman looked up at Bullet as he pulled himself to one knee before he said, You smacking me up don’t mean shit, the fact still remains that they are looking out for you.

    Bullet was seething. Not just because of Hustleman’s revelation. But because he had lost his temper and let his emotions get the best of him. Bullet knew that Hustleman was harmless and Bullet also knew that to strike a fiend was beneath him.

    Look Hutlstleman, I don’t want to hurt you— Bullet said before Hustleman cut him off. Don’t you get it? They’re doing it without you knowing, Hustleman said.

    Hustleman picked himself up off of the floor.

    Bullet, when have I ever disrespected you? Never, Hustleman said.

    At this point, Bullet knew that Hustleman told the truth. But Bullet’s pride wouldn’t allow him to allow Hustleman to know his thoughts.

    I’ve seen those kids shelter you, feed you, and even protect you. You never do shit for them, so why should I believe you? Bullet asked.

    Bullet, you know I’m not crazy-on drugs I am-but everybody and they momma know how you feel about them kids… and you said it yourself they are always doing something for me. And yes I constantly go to them because I swear them little brats always got. And most of the time they give me what I want… I don’t benefit from lying on them, Husleman said.

    I’ll go with that to an extent… you damn sure don’t benefit from lying on them. But the key component you are leaving out is why the fuck are you telling me this shit in the first place?

    Hustleman looked at Bullet. Then Hustleman inhaled deep as if more oxygen to the lungs would help him with what he was about to say.

    I stole Romey’s stash one day and Pez stash another day. Those brats of yours threatened to tell if I didn’t give them this telescope I heisted, Hustleman said.

    And they saw you steal the stashes? Bullet asked.

    They are on a roof watching everything. What roof? Police padlock the entrances. That’s what I said to them… I don’t know what roof. But trust me they told me verbatim about my antics… they somewhere watching everything, Hustleman said.

    Bullet paced the hallway.

    That’s why nobody has been busted lately, those little bad asses… damn, Bullet said.

    Man, if they tell on me, them nigga’s will kill me, Hustleman said.

    Hustleman, shut up, they played you the fuck out. They would never go against you for Romey or Pez punk asses. Shit you wasn’t there, they were even calling Romey, until I gave them the scope.

    Bullet laughed lightly before he said, So what they called the bitch nigga. Like I said, they played you the fuck out. They only speak to Romey or Pez if them nigga’s speak first. And as far as you stealing them nigga’s stash, fuck them, they think I don’t know some of that shit they pushing doesn’t come from me.

    Bullet picked up a piece of newspaper off of the hallway floor and placed it on the steps before sitting on it. Bullet rested his elbows on his knees and placed his face inside the palm of his hands and went into deep thought.

    After a few minutes went by, Bullet said, You know what else? They know the shit them bitch nigga’s is selling didn’t come from me… how they know? I don’t have the slightest clue.

    Why do you say that? Husleman asked.

    Something they said about Pez a few days ago. I told them to stop playing with me. Then they said something like, ‘You don’t say shit to Pez.’ At the time they said it, I was in the middle of doing something, so the shit they said flew over my head. But how does that tell you that Pez is not selling just your shit?

    What you are not seeing is it’s what they are not saying that lets me to know that they know what those niggas are doing. By them not saying anything to me about you stealing stashes, lets me know that they know the shit being stolen isn’t mine. And even though they gave me a hint about Pez, they aren’t trying to give out too much information, because they aren’t trying to tell on themselves, Bullet said.

    You’re probably right about everything you just said, most kids there age tell everything. Not them, they got their own secret society thing going on. And we only know what we know now because they wanted that scope— Hustleman interrupted Bullet, Yeah, a scope I needed to sell so I can get some dope… I’m dope sick Bullet, plus I need money for food and gas.

    For the first time since they encountered each other earlier, Bullet paid close attention to Hustleman’s demeanor. Guilt instantly erupted through Bullet, because he saw the look in Hustleman’s eyes. Hustleman was indeed dope sick. Damn I smacked a dope fiend who is harmless, what the fuck is wrong with me?

    Wait ten minutes, come to the basketball court, somebody will have something for you, Bullet said, before he walked away.

    On Munn Ave., across the street from Bradley Court Housing Project were a row of two family houses. One in particular was abandoned. On the roof of the house were Damian, Amelia and Shona. All gathered in a circle holding hands.

    Spin, Amelia said.

    They held hands and spun in a circle while Amelia continued: Y’all know we in trouble right? Why? Shona asked. Why? You told on us-that’s why, Amelia said. You should have never told our secret, Damian said. How else were we going to get the scope?" Shona asked.

    Neither Damian nor Amelia said anything as they continued to spin.

    Stop, Shona said.

    All three of them stopped. Shona folded her arms across her chest and had a frown on her face.

    Oh so now y’all mad at me? Shona asked. A little-and you didn’t start the spin so you can’t stop it, so spin, Amelia said.

    Amelia and Damian started to spin while Shona reluctantly joined in.

    Pappa said that we are going to do dumb stuff, but there is no such thing as two of the same mistakes. Anything happen after the first mistake is not a mistake, it’s meant to be… telling our secret was a mistake that’s not going to happen again-right Shona? Amelia asked.

    No, it’s not, Shona said.

    Shona felt better because she saw that Amelia wasn’t to upset with her.

    Right Damian? Amelia asked. I didn’t make a mistake, Damian said. Shona did, which means we did, Amelia said. That’s not fair, Damian said. Stop," Amelia said.

    They all stopped spinning before Amelia continued to speak: Did he just say what I think he said? Yup… sure did, Shona said.

    Amelia stood there and stared at Damian while Damian stared back.

    Why does the moon circle the sun Damian? Amelia asked. Damian looked surprised at the question before he answered, To keep the earth balanced on its axis.

    Amelia looked at Shona.

    Shona, how long does the moon take to circle the earth? Amelia asked. Four weeks, Shona said.

    Our solar system is a galaxy called the Milky Way, which consist of nine planets, including earth. The earth has its moon, the other planets have their moons, and they all revolve around the sun, Amelia said.

    Amelia turned to Shona.

    Now Shona, while all this is happening, what is our galaxy doing? Amelia asked. Spinning, Shona said. And Damian, how long does it take our galaxy to spin? Amelia asked. Two hundred million years, Damian said.

    Amelia circled around Damian and Shona.

    Then Amelia said, Two hundred million years huh? All this is happening because of what Damian? Amelia asked. Because God is keeping the Universe in harmony, Damian said. So, if God has it so that the whole Universe is in harmony, where should we be? Amelia asked.

    Damian stared down at his feet and said nothing back to Amelia.

    Oh, so you not going to answer me? Amelia asked. In harmony with the Universe, Damian said.

    So if God made it so that we are supposed to be in harmony with the Universe, how you going to separate yourself from Shona? Somebody you spin with just about every day… my damn sister Damian, Amelia asked.

    Then Shona added, And your future wife? I didn’t do that, Damian said. Yes you did, Amelia said. No I didn’t-did I Shona? Damian asked. You separated yourself from me Damian… you must be related to Willie Lynch, Shona said.

    Damian stomped his feet and shouted, I didn’t do it and I’m not related to know Willie Lynch. You’re hollering Damian. Don’t get mad at us because you want to spin by yourself, Amelia said.

    I didn’t say I want to spin by myself, Damian said.

    Oh you didn’t huh? I told Shona no more mistakes by telling our secrets. She said it won’t happen again. Yo’ ass going to say you didn’t make no mistakes. As if you don’t understand that her mistake is our mistake… so you must want to spin by yourself, Amelia said. Forget you, I don’t spin by myself, Damian said.

    Amelia froze standing straight up. She tilted her head and looked straight up to the sky.

    Did he just say forget me? Amelia asked. Sure did, Shona said.

    Amelia stood there, staring into the sky.

    After a few moments of awkward silence, Amelia said, You can remember the distance from planet to planet. You can look in a scope and point out constellations millions of miles away. You can tell me the distance from galaxy to galaxy in light years. But you can’t remember that Pappa and Nanna taught us that we are one?

    Amelia walked up to Damian and pointed her finger in his face before she said, How are you going to say forget me Damian? But you know what boy, I’m a learn you?

    Amelia walked over to where the telescope sat, picked it up, walked over to the edge of the roof, and looked down. Just as Damian and Shona figured what Amelia was up to, it was too late, Amelia hurled the telescope over the edge of the roof.

    By the time Damian and Shona had rushed over to the edge of the roof and looked down, the telescope was in hundreds of pieces. Shona was looking down on the ground with a big smile on her face.

    Damian was devastated.

    Why did you do that? Damian asked. Didn’t I tell you I’m a learn you? Amelia asked. And I’m a learn all three of y’all.

    Before Amelia, Damian and Shona turned around they knew they were in trouble. Standing at the roof top entrance was Bullet.

    CHAPTER 4

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    ONE WEEK LATER

    I don’t get it, when the bitch tells you to put my goddaughter on punishment, you do it, Malika said.

    Before I curse you out, and tell you to mind your own business, I need to first tell you that Nanna doesn’t have her on punishment, Rhonda said.

    She’s my goddaughter, she is my business. This is true, but being as though you can’t look out for your damn self, how are you going to look out for her? And what makes you think I can’t look after myself? Malika asked while she stared into the mirror and combed her dry brittle hair.

    Hair that at once upon a time shined with waves that grew from Malika’s scalp naturally. Her brown eyes that use to be pretty and gleamed were now dull and lifeless. Her skin use to be smooth as silk was now grey and full of blotches, especially on her face. Her body that was once curvaceous is now straight up and down.

    I’m glad that I was clean for those eighteen months, because listening to you lets me know just how fucked up I really am, Rhonda said.

    Since when does listening to me make you fucked up? Malika asked.

    "Since right out of high school, that’s when.

    We have been sniffing heroin ever since. The only time I didn’t do drugs is when I carried Shona for those nine months… twenty minutes after I pushed her out, I was at it again, kicking the nurses out of the hospital room just so I can sniff a bag."

    "It was more like ten minutes and it was two bags.

    Whatever, Rhonda said while she watched Malika with distain.

    Malika stood in the mirror and picked at the scab on her face, while at the same time applying makeup on her face.

    You look like death in that mirror, yet you refuse to see it.

    Malika turned around away from the mirror and put her hands on her bones where her hips were located.

    Oh you went and got your weight up, now you better than me? Malika asked.

    No bitch, I relapsed, I’m just like you. The difference is that I see how fucked up we really are, you refuse to see it, Rhonda said.

    Malika went and sat down on one of the dining room chairs, folded her arms around her chest and said, Where is all this coming from? Just cause she got more influence over your daughter than you do, now you mad at me?

    Rhonda sat across from Malika on the other side of the table and shook her head from side to side.

    Denial is dangerous. You totally disregarded that I commented on your looks. Not how much my weight got up. Or how much influence Nanna got over Shona. Fact is my weight is up. Another fact is Nanna has much influence over Shona. Now tell me this: What the fuck any of that has to do with the fact that your thirty one years old and look like your fifty one years old, or the fact that you suck dick for petty dollars?

    Malika stood up and out of the chair, looking everywhere except at Rhonda, though clearly offended.

    Malika said, I’m good at it, at least I’m not no five dollar ho.

    OK, you’re a twenty dollar ho… same shit, Rhonda said.

    No it’s not.

    "It’s not bitch? Until you can get thousands of dollars for a few fuckin hours on a regular basis, enough to buy a phat condo, a new luxury car, and put some money away, only then are you doing something. As long as you are sucking dick in between them cars in the parking lot at night, you’re a five dollar ho… .

    And bitch, as far as your goddaughter is concerned, yeah sometimes Nanna pisses me off because she makes me feel that Shona belongs to her and not me… and I told her such. But like she told me that’s my own shit. Nanna only wants the best for Shona. And guess what bitch? I can’t dispute that. Shona has everything the fuck she wants because of that woman… and I mean everything. More shit than you and I have ever given her combined.

    And being as though you haven’t ever birthed a child, your motherly instincts are dormant.

    My motherly instincts are in full throttle. I especially became in touch with them on my clean time. I watch another lioness watch over my cub and it’s sad to say that she has protected my cub better than I ever had. In the beginning, when I allowed myself to be jealous of their relationship, and would sometimes keep Shona away, the pain in Nanna’s soul showed in her eyes. One time I was damn nasty and evil toward that woman for no real reason at all. I not only cursed her and didn’t let Shona go with her, I told her she could never see Shona again… her breath got shallow."

    Rhonda pointed to the door entrance before she continued: "She stood right there and tried to catch her breath. The same way I watched my aunt do before she went into a panic attack. But it was the eyes, eyes that only a mother can understand; the eyes of a lioness who just got their cub taken away from them.

    I made her leave that day. I watched her from the window cry all the way up the walkway until she vanished. Shona didn’t speak to me for over a week… and I mean that literally. When I tell you I threatened Shona with everything under the sun, believe it. I couldn’t take it my daughter not talking to me… I sent her back to Nanna-things have been all love ever since.

    That punishment you spoke about, I can honestly say I don’t have a clue what that is about. I asked her to go to the store earlier to get some sugar. She said, ‘Mom I’m on punishment, but you will have that sugar.’ And she walked out that door."

    Out of all that shit you just said, you not knowing why she is on punishment doesn’t seem weird to you? As if she put herself on punishment, then walks out the door, that has to be the weirdest shit I ever heard of, Malika said.

    "No bitch, what’s weird is I spent a good portion of my food stamps on drugs. So I don’t have the basic items like sugar, bread, milk and some more shit. What’s weird is that half the time my daughter doesn’t even eat here, but guess what? One hour after she left out of this house—talking about she on punishment—she came back with Nanna’s grandson Damian and Maisha’s daughter Amelia. All three of them had bags full of groceries. My baby is thirteen years old-who the fuck does that? I didn’t contribute a dime to those groceries.

    So that influence you speak about, the one which has my daughter bringing her dope fiend mother groceries, the one that has my daughter a good student, the one that has my daughter still a virgin, that is an influence that’s well needed. I’m so proud of my daughter and I’m sorry you are not," Rhonda said.

    I’m not proud of her, how can you say something like that? Cause you are making mockery of the influence that has instilled the values into Shona, all because you or I didn’t attribute to that influence.

    I didn’t mean it like that.

    That’s just my point, it’s not that you didn’t mean something—because you meant somehing—it’s just you’re something has absolutely no substance to it, it’s just rhetoric… mere words that say nothing. Drugs have made us stop the ability to nurture, drained the nurture right out of us that God has blessed us with. You don’t even know what your goddaughter is doing. She is growing up right before our very eyes, yet you can’t see her.

    I wouldn’t go that far, Malika said.

    "Bull… shit, I just learned who my daughter is after I came out of the rehab. So how do you think you know her? Do you think she is all these good things because you speak to her in a baby voice and tell her how much you love her? Or because you never tell her no if you have it? Just because we told her what to do when she received her menstrual cycle, doesn’t classify us as good guardians. I’ve learned to see the big picture and not just bits and pieces.

    Such as something very important and very significant, I remember when Boy-Boy raped me. My brothers caught him," Rhonda said, before Malika cut her off.

    Yeah I’ll never forget that night. Your brother’s came snatched you up out of the house and wouldn’t let me come, Malika said. It’s good you didn’t, they had him down in the net in one of them abandon warehouses… they took me there to kill him- Rhonda said, before Malika cut her off again.

    What does- Malika said. "Just listen, they gave me the gun to kill him, but before I got there they had beat him half to death. When I finally saw him, I made my brothers let him go… I saved him, Rhonda

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