Maliki & Me

By Khali Raymond

In Maliki & Me, a sun has risen. Tali Raymond, the son of Maliki Raymond, was born on December 22, 1998 in Westlowe Hopsital located in the City of Dustingfold, New Jersey. As Tali grows from an infant to a young child, the people and the world around him will change dramatically. His father, Maliki, struggles with keeping his family financially stable and remaining faithful to his fiancee as he juggles multiple mistresses throughout the years. Amid this tale, Maliki will inevitably encounter challenges that could either make him or break him as an individual. Can Maliki be able to manage to all the pressure that is coming at him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Khali Raymond
• Release date: Mar 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463334416

Khali Raymond

Khali Raymond is an exceptional individual who had published a lot of work at a very young age. His serious and realistic writing style is just the icing on the cake when you’re indulging into him. Not only he’s into writing, but he has a muse for music and a whole lot of other things as well. Khali Raymond was born on December 22, 1998 in Newark, New Jersey. Ever since then, Khali has been working at refining his craft in the writing field.Learning how to read at the age of two, there were bright things ahead for this wise man. After going through a lot of life-changing experiences throughout his years, it’s inevitable that he’s doing this. As Khali writes book after book at a rapid rate, you can’t help but wonder how he does it. His continuous efforts to put out riveting and mind capturing work arouses a lot of people’s interest. People are curious as to what goes on in the head of this reclusive genius.Khali’s love for his city and community is extremely strong. That alone is a primary influence for his work. His continued humbleness and strong work ethic will carry him into places that the average person can dream of reaching. A lot of mystery shrouds this genius author, but Khali is more than genius. As he makes a vow to write until he dies, the good work will keep coming your way.When you do happen to read Khali’s work, the themes and vocabulary he uses is extremely strong and provocative. You will feel drawn into the power of his sword, and that sword is his pen. Be sure to follow Khali on all social media platforms you can find him on so you can see what he does next.

Book preview

Birth

1: A Sun Rises

Westlowe Hospital, Room 512C - December 22, 1998. 5:09 pm

Tabitha has had a lot of abortions and miscarriages. It became a recurring gag. It didn’t matter if I pulled out before I came, wore protection or ate the cat. The end result would always be me losing my load inside of her.

Tabitha would become pregnant and we’d go through the same thing every time. She takes the test, finds out she’s bearing, and I’d go with her to the clinic because she wasn’t ready for a child.

Or…

Tabitha would carry for a couple of weeks only to find out the baby died in the womb.

It was always Tabitha’s choice to get an abortion. I never supported that due to my own personal beliefs. Abortion is manslaughter to me, though that’s just my opinion.

This time, things were different. A few months ago, I knew that Tabitha was pregnant because of the morning sickness. I didn’t have to shell out for another pregnancy test.

After Tabitha finished spewing into the toilet, we had a talk. She wasn’t keen on aborting again, so Tabitha made the decision to keep the baby.

For forty weeks we were going to doctors and ob-gyns. We made countless phone calls and sent tons of letters to family and friends, giving them the news.

My mother was grateful we were having a baby though she wasn’t keen of Tabitha. Momma and her aren’t seeing eye to eye. They never did. Since they’ve met, they bumped heads like Stone Cold Steve Austin and Vince McMahon.

At every family gathering, they constantly cuss each other out. At times, their quarrels know no end. Somehow, I’m always in the middle, mediating and shit.

My current situation is behind closed metal doors with four doctors huddled in a room, catering to Tabitha as she’s in labor. All I can see is sheets, moving limbs, and open legs.

Witnessing live birth had to be the most beautiful yet disturbing thing I ever had the pleasure of seeing. I was still trying to take it all in.

Tabitha’s hair was ruffled. Her face spelled immense amounts of discomfort as she was trying to push out the baby.

Machines were beeping as doctors paced the room with their crocs clacking against the patterned floor.

Aaaaah!!! Ughhhh!!! Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! Tabitha shouted as she gripped the bars of the hospital bed.

You’re almost there, keep going! a doctor said.

Yeah, baby! Push that little sucker out of there! I yelled.

The more Tabitha screamed bloody murder, the more she pushed. Eventually, a sunlight casted over the entire room. All the senseless screaming ceased.

A bodacious male baby emerged. He made it to the other side. His crying was a sign of life. If the baby didn’t cry, then it would be dead… right?

Doctors were smiling at the baby, moving his hands around to see if he had motion.

Hey, can I hold him? I asked the doctor.

The doctor handed me my son. I stared at him as tears filled my eyes. My first child… one that wasn’t aborted or had to pass away in the womb.

I was overjoyed.

Hey there, little man! You know who I am? I’m your father!

The baby continued to cry. He shook his hands. I passed him down to Tabitha. She was rocking him back and forth.

Tabitha began crying. He’s gorgeous, Maliki!

What will you guys name him? the doctor asked.

I had ideas though. One name was Splinter. That wasn’t picked.

You ain’t naming our baby no damn Splinter! What the fuck is wrong with you? I oughta’ beat some sense into yo’ ass if you name our kid that!

How about… Pikachu?

Well…

Pikachu? You ain’t naming our baby no motherfucking Pikachu!

How about Dre?

Dre? Dre. What is he, a rapper?

I dunno. Babe, do you have anything in mind? You cussed me out for the options I presented in the past, I said.

I wouldn’t have to if they weren’t so dumb! Who would want to name their kid after a piece of wood?

You wanted to name him Faggot?

Tabitha sucked her teeth, giving me that look. That look meant if I didn’t shut up, then she’d be in my ass fast.

The doctor laughed. I have a suggestion. I was reading a couple of books and there was this word I found in Arabic.

Yeah? What? Tabitha asked.

Ayreh Feek, I asked.

The doctor and I were cracking up.

What is so funny? What does that mean?

It means, my penis in you. I study Arabic, the doctor said.

Tabitha picked up a dish by the bed and tossed it at me.

Ow! What the hell, Tabitha? I shrieked. You tripping!

You ain’t naming our baby that, you motherfucking fool! Stop playing with my intelligence, Maliki!

Damn, Tabitha. You ain’t gotta be so pushy.

The doctor cut in. Well, how about Tali? It has a powerful meaning.

Tabitha raised her eyebrow. Yeah? It better not be anything foul.

Not at all. It means the next. Your baby has a lot of potential. Someday, he’s going to become something great. He will make you proud parents.

Tabitha and I nodded while Tali kept crying.

Yeah… Tali. We’re going to name him Tali Shamir Maliki Raymond. How does that sound, Maliki?

I’d prefer Puta.

Excuse me?

Tali is a wonderful name, I replied.

2: Stirring

McDonalds, 6116 Willmington Avenue - December 29, 1998. 1:34 pm

My son Tali has been in the hospital for a week. The family is excited now that he’s in the world. Currently, I’m with my best friend Ron at McDonalds.

Whenever I’m not in school, Ron and I go to the park to play basketball or jog a couple of laps on the track, though he can’t keep up with me for shit. He abhors running.

I had to take this outing with Ron. Anything other than being around Tabitha all day as I am subjected to the wrath of her uncontrollable attitude.

So, you gone finish that burger? I asked Ron.

He laughed. Yeah, fool!

I kept cheesing, thinking of all the possibilities which’ll present themselves now that I’m a father.

I can’t believe I’m a father, Ron. I’m so overjoyed.

Congratulations, brotha. I bet it must feel nice.

It does, man. Now we need to find you a baby momma, too.

Please. No one wants a kid by me.

Come on. Don’t say that about yourself.

I’ve known Ron since we were children. One thing he would always do was put himself down.

Why not? Look at you, man. You got the whole set. Looks, athleticism, charisma, and confidence. The females throw themselves at you. I wish I could be more like you, Maliki. I’m fat, black, and ugly. I look like a damn 8-ball, nigga!

I cut in. Stop.

Stop whaaaat?

"All the self-loathing. You need to cut that shit out, Ron. You’re never going to get anyone with a mindset like that. It ain’t always about looks, my boy.

The ladies fuck with me because of my personality. Look at Biggie. He said that he was black and ugly as ever, though he had bitches all over him!

Funny hearing that from a married man.

I ain’t married yet. Engaged, I whispered, sipping my soda.

Still, fool. You set for life.

You know what it is! I got a hundred chicks lining up for me! What I’m trying to tell you is this… it doesn’t matter how many abs you got or inches you pack—

Ron cut in. What? You know these girls don’t want no little dick niggas!

I started cracking up. It’s not about the size of the boat, family. It’s the motion of the ocean. Long as you know how to use it properly, then you shouldn’t be worrying.

Ron dapped me up. That’s why you my man, Yom.

People call me Yom because of my middle name, Yawmi-Deen.

Because I buy you food?

No. I can buy my own food, sucka. You keep it real. It’s why I fuck with you.

Course I keep it real with my brother!

I know.

Yo, I gotta holler at you bout’ something.

Ron rolled his eyes. What? Another bitch?

Aye, I mean…

Maliki, you’re about to become married soon. Every dog has his day.

Nah, hear me out. It’s this girl at my college, right? Her name is Camila Nogueira. She fine as a motherfucker! We exchanged numbers.

Yeah, what else?

Nothing yet.

Hmph, yet. What else you know about her?

Well… Camila is Brazilian.

Ooooooh… really?

Really really. I’m just saying. She ain’t too bad-looking. Camila can get this dick any time, any day.

Hmph. Better hope Tabitha doesn’t find out about her.

She won’t.

You say that now. I wouldn’t want to fuck with Tabitha once she gets angry. You really planning on banging that Camila chick, Yom?

I gave Ron a sheepish grin. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, right?

You’re being naïve, Yom. Everything is wrong with that, especially when you’re engaged. But hey, do you.

My pager was beeping. Hold up a minute, bro.

Who paging you? Camila?

I checked my pager. There was a message from Tabitha which read: Doctor called. Tali is ready 2 be picked up. Come to the apartment. We going to get him and head 2 my mom’s house. Bring Ron with you.

"Nah. Tabitha is. She wants me to come through to pick her up so we can get Tali from the hospital. You rolling with me, too. I’m making you Tali’s godfather.

There was nobody else who I could pick. God forbid something happens to me, I want you to teach him how to hold it down out here, I said, dapping Ron up. We hugged.

Maliki… you my friend for life, he replied, sniffling.

Aye. You crying?

Ron nodded as tears ran down his face. Hell yeah! I get emotional, nigga!

I laughed. You just emotional over them damn fries you ate. Buy yourself some more.

I don’t want any more fries!

Let’s roll, man.

We dumped our trays and walked to my car. We hopped in and I put the Life After Death CD by The Notorious B.I.G. into the player.

You playing that Life After Death? Ron asked.

I nodded while I started up the car and drove down the street. Hell yeah! This my shit! Let that window down! I want the whole hood to hear this heat!

It’s cold as hell and you want me to let this window down so you could play music? You a trip Maliki, Ron replied.

I’m fucking around! Don’t let my windows down. The weather ain’t too friendly for that. Kick in the door, waiving the four-four, all you heard was papa don’t hit me no more!

Ron and I both sang along to Biggie’s Kick in the Door as we were on the way to my apartment.

Maliki’s Apartment, 230 Macareno Avenue - December 29, 1998. 2:32 pm

He we are. This is my casa. It isn’t really extravagant. I’m in a three story flat on Macareno Avenue located in the city’s southside.

The City of Dustingfold, New Jersey has a population of 196,781 people. Dustingfold isn’t that far from New York.

Dustingfold has five sections: the North Part, the West Part, the Central Part, the East Part, and the South Part.

The North Part consists of middle class and wealthy residents who live in extravagant homes that are granted opportunities no other classes in the city is.

The West Part is plagued with crime and urban decay but it isn’t terrible like the South Part. The Central Part is where the downtown district is. Major stores and office buildings are there.

Right where a cathedral that was destroyed in a fire once sat, an arena is being built in its place. The arena will be completed in 2001. Construction began in 1996.

The East Part is more industrialized. Additionally, it’s the third wealthiest section of the city next to the North and Central Parts.

There are many people who own businesses there. The East Part is close to Port Dustingfold which brings in additional revenue to the surrounding neighborhoods.

The South Part is utterly atrocious. Immense crime, Immense poverty, you name it. It’s the city’s official slum. Ron and I got out of the car, walking upstairs to get Tabitha.

Damn, Maliki… how do you live in this filth? This hallway smells like a bunch of piss, Ron complained.

I laughed. It’s nothing, really. You get used to it after a while.

I adjusted to being in a building where all the walls were covered in dirt, the floors have shit spilled all over them with the occasional homeless person sleeping near the radiator.

What about the rats and roaches? I hear some units have bats in them. I don’t like it that much either, but it’s all I have until I graduate college.

Get used to it? I’m surprised you ain’t die in it.

Look man, it’s only temporary. You know I got the hookup on that restaurant. We gone be in there grilling it up! Remember we were talking about it the other day?

I sure hope you’re right. Besides, we don’t even have the right stuff needed for that damn restaurant. They’re gonna shut the shit down, Ron replied.

Stop being a scrub, bro.

"I ain’t being no scrub, Maliki. You need to realize something. Ain’t nothing done overnight. You want to rush into every damn thing. All that flashy shit got you in a trance.

You’re a father now, man. You need to quit messing around with these hoes because you about to become a married man. God ain’t gonna let you into heaven once you break your vows. For real.

I could sense the frustration emitting from Ron. It made me reassess myself a bit.

You right. Camila could still get this dick though.

Ron shook his head. You’re never gonna learn, Maliki.

We finally made it to my loft. I unlocked the door and walked right in with Ron following me. Tabitha sat on the couch watching television. She turned around the minute we came in.

Took you long enough, fool! Oh hey, Ron! Tabitha said, running to hug Ron.

She hugged him before she hugged me. Hm. That speaks volumes.

Wassup, Tabitha. How you? Ron asked.

She smiled. "I’m doing fine. I’m just mad at the fact this fool right