The Mis-Education of the Savage: Savage Rites

By Jason Cavil

Below the most distinctive skyline in America, the City of Dallas, Josiah is on the highway of life going 165 mph. Ignoring all the warning signs: curve ahead, wrong way, stop, etc. he continues to keep his foot on the gas.

Cutta, Josiah’s Day One, is a magnet for confrontation. Smoke is his middle name. But this time Josiah is the only one that can help him. In an attempt to get Cutta out of this jam, Josiah gives his resources and loyalty only to lose what’s left of his former self.

Instead of quitting while ahead, he constructs a team of hungry wolves eager to run up the score and carry out his will of crushing his enemies. All of this while dealing with snakes, drama and unseen forces locked in a yearslong battle for supremacy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669816201

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Jaire woke up to the smell of burnt paper. Two in the morning was displayed on his digital clock. He heard white noise first. Then, as his ears attuned to the commonplace sounds, he picked up on the customary conversations. All on topics ranging from debt owed to Jerry Jones to fabricated war stories to baby mama discrepancies.

He heard the dreams of rap stardom through fists beating against brick and the polishing of skillful deliveries.

Aye, J Real. Shoot me summin’. I’ma send my line. Aye. J Real . . . Jaire heard the ignored voice go on.

He heard the snoring, then he heard the screams. Death of the mind, death of the spirit, and physical deaths were all quotidian features in this environment.

But Jaire, numb to the madness, lay there thinking about his journey . . . his transgressions. In a place where it is believed to be detached from all emotions except anger, he smiled. Then, as quickly as his cheeks bulged out, his smile evaporated.

For a smile comes from within. He searched his mind, looking, for the last time he was truly happy. In the lightest of spirits. And he couldn’t recall those feelings. He doubted if they were real moments. To him they were foreign objects—myths, phantoms.

Reality was now. Cold and concrete. No give. Relentless. A perpetual crushing force . . . So he pulled down his pen and note pad and began to write.

* * *

Slrrrp, slrrrp, mmmnh. D’Asia let out a muffled moan. She was currently working to subdue Josiah by trying to swallow his engorged appendage whole at the moment.

Giving herself a hand with plenty of spit, she was cramming him in her throat while attempting to tickle his sack with the tip of her tongue. Sloppy toppy at its finest.

With her free hand, D’Asia tried to calm the Category 5 that was slipping through her fingers by thumbing her aching nub. Her heightening excitement sent saliva meandering down his shaft.

Hold up, hold up, bae, Josiah said, pulling D’Asia off his dick with a loud slurp and a pop. You gon’ max a nigga out fo’ I even get to give you this work, he said, standing up to sit D’Asia on the couch.

You know I’m ’bout my bi’ness. I just wanna take care of you, babe, she said, sitting and kissing his robust maleness.

That’s why I fuck witcha. Now lay back and hold these muthafuckas out my way. Josiah gestured at her lithe, thick legs—fine and shaped from running track.

D’Asia licked her lips then obligingly spread wide like the branches on the acacia tree, eager to get her pussy punched on like he was Errol Spence Jr. in the middle rounds. Josiah cradled the back of D’Asia’s head to make her watch him guide his glistening mahogany stick deep inside her body.

Sssss . . . D’Asia hissed and sucked in air between her teeth.

Josiah sank to the bottom of her ocean and shot a few slow jabs like he was trying to massage her insides. D’Asia’s eyebrows were scrunched, enjoying this methodical prodding as she leaked unabatedly.

Ahh! D’Asia yelped when Josiah pulled almost all the way out then slammed back down. He repeated this process again and again.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Their bodies sounding off as Josiah upped the tempo.

Uuh . . . Ssss . . . Get it, bae. Fuck me, D’Asia breathed as Josiah plunged and sloshed around in her puddle, making her pussy talk. Please, she begged as Josiah pummeled relentlessly.

Please what?

Please make me cum I need . . . to . . .

Get that nut, bae. Get it.

Unh. Anh. Sshhiitt! D’Asia shouted as her grip convulsed and spazzed.

Watching her jerk and twitch underneath him sent Josiah over the top. Uuh . . . Fuck! he grunted, pulling out and splashing his thick, milky glaze all over her breasts and belly, dotting her macchiato complexion like confectionary sugar. D’Asia enjoyed watching the money shot as she savored the relaxation of her body after a good buss down.

As D’Asia showered and Josiah washed his dick in the sink, he thought about what to do about her. She was graduating from Lake Highlands in North Dallas. If he wouldn’t have dropped out their junior year, he would’ve graduated too.

The problem was Savannah, Josiah’s baby mama, and her clique all attended the same school. And instead of picking Savannah up as usual this morning, he slid over to D’Asia’s for an early session. He would hear about it later. But D’Asia made it well worth it.

Josiah decided to drop her off in the teacher’s parking lot. Then he drove around to the senior lot to see if Cutta had come through. Cutta usually caught the bus, then he’d hop in with Josiah and they’d wander the city.

Cutta, government name Ladarius Dashaun Breeland, was Josiah’s day one. His mother and him had moved from the Grove hoping that attending better schools would keep him out of trouble. She was right in Cutta receiving a good education, enrolling in Forest Lane Academy. But she failed to foresee the education he would receive from just living on The Lane.

This wasn’t the North of old where the Cowboys practiced. Nor the North once perceived as Baby Vegas. This Nawf taught how to run plays like Andy Reid, rotate doors like Three Card Monte, and that a stick was a young steppa’s closest companion.

And Cutta took to it like a lion cub to a fresh kill. Where Josiah was a student, Cutta was the natural.

Savannah lookin’ for you. Where you been? Gina asked Josiah when he pulled to a stop alongside of her and Cutta talking.

I overslept. Tell her I’ll be back to scoop her.

Mnh-hunh. Whateva. Byyee, Ladarius. Gina smiled as she walked off toward the school.

Aiight, G. I’ma fuck witcha, Cutta said, getting into the passenger’s side.

What’s up wit my nigga tho? Josiah smirked driving off.

Sup, bro, Cutta said, waiting on the punch line.

I see you and Gina gettin’ a lil close.

Naw, bro.

You wouldn’t take her down? She might got that heat.

Naw, I’m good, fam.

What about late night?

Mmmm. Maybe late night. Late, late night. Way out in Hutchins, Cutta said as they fell out laughing.

Hunh. Fire that up. Josiah handed Cutta a neatly rolled cigarillo stuffed with gas. Cutting on Mo3’s Shottaz 4 Eva, he asked, Aye, remember them clowns doin’ all that bumpin’ at Tsunami Nights last weekend?

Yeah, what’s the word on them niggas? Cutta replied, sparking the blunt and inhaling as they drifted down Audelia.

D’Asia’s sister’s girlfriend’s baby daddy is one of ’em. He been gettin’ to the bag but ain’t paid no child support. So she been goin’ in and givin’ up all the intel, Josiah explained, getting the blunt from Cutta.

Thought they got away wit’ summin’. Heavy always said nature finds a way to balance itself out. Bless they heart. They don’t even know a nigga step. We gon’ see if they can sit in the smokin’ section though.

Bro, the law’s behind us, Josiah said calmly, looking in his rearview, crossing over 635.

Dallas, an increasingly diverse city, had, at one time, the biggest chapter of the KKK in the south. It is said they took off the sheets and put on badges. Being the original terrorists, they enjoyed the protection the government provided them. But the winds were shifting, giants were waking, and the fear was ebbing.

Cutta and Josiah always kept bangers on them. So it was only fitting they glanced at each other with a knowing look when the police cruiser’s lights began dancing on its roof.

Josiah gave the blunt to Cutta as he got into the farthest left lane passing Get-n-Go. This agitated the police, provoking them to hit the siren and pull closer to the Toyota Prius.

Josiah knew the dope fiend rental couldn’t outrun the souped-up Charger of the DPD, so he decided to turn this ephemeral vehicular pursuit into a track meet.

Using the police’s over-aggressiveness to his advantage, Josiah yanked the wheel, bending a sharp right into the Riviera Apartments.

The surprise maneuver made the cruiser turn wide, giving the duo valuable seconds to bust a move. Josiah stopped the car at the top of the incline in the entrance, and put the car in neutral. He and Cutta both got out just as the DPD straightened to give chase.

They watched for a moment as the little Japanese-made vehicle rolled backward, crashing into the police car. Satisfied with himself, Josiah held up his middle fingers before turning and joining Cutta in their swift departure.

CHAPTER 2

Unh. Unnh. This bitch doin’ too muuch, Gina said to no one in particular as school was letting out.

Who, gurl? Savannah asked, ready to squabble. She been mad all day cause Josiah didn’t pick her up for school. She couldn’t wait to cuss his ass out.

That bitch Shonda lookin’ all upside yo’ head, girl, Evonn, Savannah’s BFF, said.

Shonda was Josiah’s ex. Smoke was inevitable. It was only a matter of who was going to strike the first match.

Bitch, what’s up? Tha fuck you lookin’ at? Savannah shouted, pausing Shonda, who was walking with her homegirl Veronica.

You, dumb bitch, and that bullshit promise ring. The ring may be real but the promise sho ain’t, Shonda said with a knowing smirk, then walked outside.

Gina and Evonn looked at Savannah, seeing how much that stung. Savannah looked at her ring, put it in her pocket, then said, That bitch got me fucked up.

Josiah and Cutta’s great escape ended at Payaso’s spot on the other side of the wooden fence in back of the Riviera apartments.

Payaso was a fly lil Mexican that had more sauce than most niggas. He was born and raised in the North but his family was originally from the West. And he kept his hands on some corn, to which he first introduced Josiah back in junior high. After going in on their first pound together, they’d been tight ever since.

They say a squad car swings through like every fifteen minutes, Payaso said, coming back in from surveying the scene.

Aiight. P, let me borrow your car, Josiah responded.

Bro. Where in the fuck . . . Bih, you didn’t just hear me?

You know I gotta get Savannah, bro. I’ll go the long way. Gimme a hat or summin’.

Payaso just shook his head, knowing Josiah was hell to deal with when his mind was made up.

You know he ain’t got sense, Cutta chimed in.

Payaso grabbed the keys off the end table and threw them to Josiah. Don’t fuck up my shit. If the laws stop you, I’m sayin’ my shit stolen. He smirked.

Bih, I love you, Josiah said, trying to hug Payaso.

Get the fuck off me, bro. I ain’t cha baby mama.

I gotchu, fam. I owe you, Josiah said, walking out the door.

Josiah turned in the parking lot at the school. The buses were lined up as usual, but a huge crowd was forming opposite of that, which could only mean one thing.

Getting out of the car, Josiah could hear females yelling, Get that bitch! and whup that hoe! You could also hear the guys saying, Don’t break it up. Let ’em get that, hoping they could see a titty pop out amid the action.

Josiah pushed through the crowd to see patches of hair on the ground and a lone security guard trying to separate six females tearing each other to pieces. Pure chaos with lopsided odds. Savannah and her crew, Gina, Evonn, and Danae versus Shonda and Veronica. No contest.

Seeing Principal Lamear and two more security guards on their way over, Josiah ran to grab Savannah.

Savannah! Savannah! Let’s go! he yelled, watching her take Shonda to the ground.

Not being able to snap Savannah out of her trance, he grabbed her by the waist and carried her from the fray. When he put her down, she finally recognized who he was and started punching him.

Chill out! Damn, let’s get up outta here, Josiah said, walking to the car.

Fuck you, Josiah! Savannah said, following him and getting into Payaso’s Crown Vic. You fuckin that bitch!

What bitch? I ain’t fuckin nobody but you, he said, starting up the car and leaving the pandemonium.

I know you fuckin that hoe, Josiah Kennard Trice! I ain’t fuckin stupid!

Savannah. One thang I know, two thangs fa sho’, is I love you. I ain’t fuckin nobody, and you lookin’ real sexy right now. Breathin’ hard, lookin’ real stomp down like a young Angela Davis, Josiah said with a grin on his face.

Savannah almost smiled at his retarded-ass comment, but she had to stay stiff to let him know he can’t charm and sweet talk his way out of everything.

At 6’2", 210 pounds, Josiah had an athletic frame with undeniable swag that enticed all the good girls—thots suburbanites