A plane flew over the police building. The bottom
glistening from the morning sun. A stream of wind behind it,
followed by a droning cry.
Jason walked out the front door of the police station, a
grin on his face. Freedom bare. Wearing donated clothes, –
purple sweat-pants, and a light-blue tee-shirt. He felt like
a dumb-ass, but it was more comfortable than the blood
ridden rag's he wore when the cop's first found him.
Stopping at the bottom of the stone step's, he took in a
triumphant breath of fresh air.
"Fuck you, pig! Get outta my face," a suspect screamed as
two cop's shoved him to the front door.
He took a seat on the step, waiting for his ride. Rubbing
his hand across the side of his face, he needed a good
shave, to trim his 5 'O clock shadow. And some French Fries.
A beer wouldn't hurt either. His train of thought was
halted, however, by a loud honk. Looking up he saw a
familiar gold Cadillac, with spinning hud-caps. And waiting
inside the car was a face; 'Handsome' Isaac Finnegan.
Jason got to his feet, swaggering over to the car in a pair
of busted white Sneakers. He opened the door, watching Isaac
clear some newspaper's, and cup's off the Passenger Seat.
"Come on, man. I'm ready to get the fuck outta here. I've
been dicking around here for the past three day's."
"Chill, baby," Isaac smiled.
After everything was cleaned off. Jason hopped inside,
slamming the door shut to Isaac's chagrin. He hunched in the
seat while rolling down the window. The car shifted gear's,
hydraulics kicking to give the side a little bounce as it
drove down the street. Isaac laughed out loud, grabbing
Jason's hand, and giving him a buddy punch.
"How's it feel to be a free man, holmes?"
"Different," Jason retorted. "I can't believe you picked me
up the fuckin', Pimp-Mobile."
Isaac laughed: "You still haven't changed? Shit, boy, did my
friend's take care of you on the 'inside?'"
"Yeah, kinda. This guy from L.A. came in about a month ago,
tried to shank me with a Screwdriver. They shot him on the
court-yard, and transferred me back here."
"Word?"
"Hell yes. I think he was one of Simon's crew. Trying to rub
me out."
"Mm-hmm."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Isaac gave him a worried look. Adjusting the Dice on his
rear-view mirror. Flipping on his turn-signal, he drove down
an alley-way. Cranking up the radio to a 70's Funk station.
"Word is – Simon wants your ass. Bad, nigga. I mean sick
bad!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, the feeling's mutual!"
"Now don't go doin' that stupid shit! Since you've been on
the 'inside', thing's have changed. He started up a club
downtown."
"The Spunge. I know."
"Naw. He shut that place down once it got shot up last
summer. The boy's who did it got buried-alive in the
cemetery. He has this strip joint, 'The Big Easy.' This
bitch work's prostitution, drug dealing, and assassination's
out of the same goddamn club! And, word on the street is
that he has high member's of the police department in his
pocket now, too. Damn, even the Cuban's to mess with his
shit."
Jason nodded. Looking out the window – a young woman jogged
with her Poodle. Only a pink short-length tank-top, and
green, tight-fitting pant's covering her bottom. She had a
walk-man headset on, where she blared 80's bubble-gum pop
music. This caused Jason to smile as he slid on a pair of
sleek Oakley Sunglasses. Fixing the gun-metal frame, as the
Emerald lenses reflected the woman's figure. It was good to
be out.
The Cadillac swerved onto Bay Heights. Pulling up in front
of a Jewelry Shop called, 'Bling.' Both door's opened,
allowing them to exit the car. Isaac advanced around the
Cadillac, using a small remote to set the car-alarm. He
wrapped his arm around Jason's shoulder, walking forward
with him to the front-door.
"This is my joint. We make the finest gold, silver, platinum
– whatever, jewelry in town. My ass is bustin' with
business! Shit, son, this joint and The East-Curb, is makin'
me a straight-up pimp."
The door opened, triggering a tiny bell above the door to
ring gently. A black man sitting at the register looked up,
eyebrows narrowed. He slushed a lolli-pop in his mouth.
Getting up from a stool, watching them enter. Slowly he
pulled up a double-barrel shotgun, staring Jason down. Isaac
took note of that, halting his employee.
"What the fuck is this?" Jason asked.
"It's cool, Romeo! Jason, this is my boy Romeo. He's just
actin' so tight 'cause we got robbed this week by some
punk's," Isaac explained. Giving Romeo a leering eye. "But
we took care of theirs dumb-asses. Follow me, G."
Jason tailed Isaac past the Jewel cases where watches, and
necklaces were stored. A flight of wooden stairs were just
ahead. Apparently, this place used to be a house of some
kind, he thought. Isaac scaled the winding step's, stomping
up-stair's with Jason just in back of him. Trying to figure
exactly where they were going.
"Where are you taking me to?"
"Just come with me."
Isaac moved down a hall-way, passing three closed door's on
his way to an open doorway. The hinges were broke on the
reinforced-steel door, leaving it hanging on the wall. Jason
and Isaac stepped inside the room, -- a baby crib was off to
the side, next to a coffee table. And in the center was a
Pool Table, all the ball's spread out on side. It was just
straight of a mini-Bar.
"Nice," Jason remarked.
"Ain't it?"
Isaac jigged over to the crib, pulling out a big, wooden box
from under it. He carried it over to the Pool Table,
sprawling it out on the side. Looking over at Jason,
wondering if he knew what it was.
"Remember this?" Isaac asked.
"Shit. Just as I left it," Jason said. Taking the lid off.
Inside – was a 'Nude America' magazine on the bottom, under
a 'Skank Fortune' book. A silver-framed .40 caliber Beretta
handgun, with two clip's. A Swiss Army knife. A mini box of
condoms, and a 5-year old Speeding Ticket on top -- unpaid.
He pulled out the Beretta, feeling the rubber grip and
getting used to the weight of it. Observing that the condom
box was already opened, unlike he'd left it. Smirking at
Isaac.
"I opened it once to oil the piece, 'bout a week ago. But I
didn't use no rubber's," Isaac explained.
Jason took black, leather shoulder holster from the Pool
Table. Throwing it care-lessly over his shoulder. He stared
at Isaac for a moment, a stiff face.
"Well, maybe once. A while ago. And I didn't enjoy," Isaac
told him. Soon breaking into a laugh.
"I should throw you out the window for messing with my
shit!" Jason teased.
"Then ... you wouldn't see ya baby," Isaac said. Giving his
trademarked, 'Handsome-Man Smile' that was worth a million
buck's, or maybe only 200k.
A tricked-out silver Mercedes-Benz SL 500 waited down-
stair's. Parked in Isaac's vast garage, where he also kept
two other car's. The second pride of Jason's life. It had
four custom rim's that sparkled of gold-silver. Costing him
a small fortune. The black interior had red mat's on the
floor, each one with a grinning Devil on the front. Given
that symbol after his friend's said it drove like a Bat out
of Hell. He won it in a Poker game a few year's back to a
world-renown player, taking care of it ever since.
"Well, there she is," Isaac said.
Jason – wearing a black silk Hawaiian shirt, which featured
blue design's on the front. Resembling a dragon. Also
dressed in a pair of black, leather pant's and similar
colored boot's, stood there. Now minus his dorky-ass
clothes. The key-chain in his hand dangled lightly. He
walked across the outside to approach the Driver's Side
door, opening it to climb inside. He stuck the key in the
ignition to enjoy the pounding purr of the car starting up.
Isaac walked over to a pillar, where a switch was attached.
Pressing the green button in the middle of the device. A
beep signaled, steadily forcing the garage door to open.
"Anytime you need some-place to go," Isaac shouted over the
engine. "...you know where I live."
Jason nodded his head. Then hit the gas-pedal, hammering out
of the garage into an alley, to hang the left corner. Coming
to a stop between two building's, switching on his turn-
signal. He drove out onto the street, heading out to, "The
Big Easy."
"That white boy is gonna get my black ass killed," Isaac
remarked. Closing the garage door, and going to attend to
his business.
glistening from the morning sun. A stream of wind behind it,
followed by a droning cry.
Jason walked out the front door of the police station, a
grin on his face. Freedom bare. Wearing donated clothes, –
purple sweat-pants, and a light-blue tee-shirt. He felt like
a dumb-ass, but it was more comfortable than the blood
ridden rag's he wore when the cop's first found him.
Stopping at the bottom of the stone step's, he took in a
triumphant breath of fresh air.
"Fuck you, pig! Get outta my face," a suspect screamed as
two cop's shoved him to the front door.
He took a seat on the step, waiting for his ride. Rubbing
his hand across the side of his face, he needed a good
shave, to trim his 5 'O clock shadow. And some French Fries.
A beer wouldn't hurt either. His train of thought was
halted, however, by a loud honk. Looking up he saw a
familiar gold Cadillac, with spinning hud-caps. And waiting
inside the car was a face; 'Handsome' Isaac Finnegan.
Jason got to his feet, swaggering over to the car in a pair
of busted white Sneakers. He opened the door, watching Isaac
clear some newspaper's, and cup's off the Passenger Seat.
"Come on, man. I'm ready to get the fuck outta here. I've
been dicking around here for the past three day's."
"Chill, baby," Isaac smiled.
After everything was cleaned off. Jason hopped inside,
slamming the door shut to Isaac's chagrin. He hunched in the
seat while rolling down the window. The car shifted gear's,
hydraulics kicking to give the side a little bounce as it
drove down the street. Isaac laughed out loud, grabbing
Jason's hand, and giving him a buddy punch.
"How's it feel to be a free man, holmes?"
"Different," Jason retorted. "I can't believe you picked me
up the fuckin', Pimp-Mobile."
Isaac laughed: "You still haven't changed? Shit, boy, did my
friend's take care of you on the 'inside?'"
"Yeah, kinda. This guy from L.A. came in about a month ago,
tried to shank me with a Screwdriver. They shot him on the
court-yard, and transferred me back here."
"Word?"
"Hell yes. I think he was one of Simon's crew. Trying to rub
me out."
"Mm-hmm."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Isaac gave him a worried look. Adjusting the Dice on his
rear-view mirror. Flipping on his turn-signal, he drove down
an alley-way. Cranking up the radio to a 70's Funk station.
"Word is – Simon wants your ass. Bad, nigga. I mean sick
bad!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, the feeling's mutual!"
"Now don't go doin' that stupid shit! Since you've been on
the 'inside', thing's have changed. He started up a club
downtown."
"The Spunge. I know."
"Naw. He shut that place down once it got shot up last
summer. The boy's who did it got buried-alive in the
cemetery. He has this strip joint, 'The Big Easy.' This
bitch work's prostitution, drug dealing, and assassination's
out of the same goddamn club! And, word on the street is
that he has high member's of the police department in his
pocket now, too. Damn, even the Cuban's to mess with his
shit."
Jason nodded. Looking out the window – a young woman jogged
with her Poodle. Only a pink short-length tank-top, and
green, tight-fitting pant's covering her bottom. She had a
walk-man headset on, where she blared 80's bubble-gum pop
music. This caused Jason to smile as he slid on a pair of
sleek Oakley Sunglasses. Fixing the gun-metal frame, as the
Emerald lenses reflected the woman's figure. It was good to
be out.
The Cadillac swerved onto Bay Heights. Pulling up in front
of a Jewelry Shop called, 'Bling.' Both door's opened,
allowing them to exit the car. Isaac advanced around the
Cadillac, using a small remote to set the car-alarm. He
wrapped his arm around Jason's shoulder, walking forward
with him to the front-door.
"This is my joint. We make the finest gold, silver, platinum
– whatever, jewelry in town. My ass is bustin' with
business! Shit, son, this joint and The East-Curb, is makin'
me a straight-up pimp."
The door opened, triggering a tiny bell above the door to
ring gently. A black man sitting at the register looked up,
eyebrows narrowed. He slushed a lolli-pop in his mouth.
Getting up from a stool, watching them enter. Slowly he
pulled up a double-barrel shotgun, staring Jason down. Isaac
took note of that, halting his employee.
"What the fuck is this?" Jason asked.
"It's cool, Romeo! Jason, this is my boy Romeo. He's just
actin' so tight 'cause we got robbed this week by some
punk's," Isaac explained. Giving Romeo a leering eye. "But
we took care of theirs dumb-asses. Follow me, G."
Jason tailed Isaac past the Jewel cases where watches, and
necklaces were stored. A flight of wooden stairs were just
ahead. Apparently, this place used to be a house of some
kind, he thought. Isaac scaled the winding step's, stomping
up-stair's with Jason just in back of him. Trying to figure
exactly where they were going.
"Where are you taking me to?"
"Just come with me."
Isaac moved down a hall-way, passing three closed door's on
his way to an open doorway. The hinges were broke on the
reinforced-steel door, leaving it hanging on the wall. Jason
and Isaac stepped inside the room, -- a baby crib was off to
the side, next to a coffee table. And in the center was a
Pool Table, all the ball's spread out on side. It was just
straight of a mini-Bar.
"Nice," Jason remarked.
"Ain't it?"
Isaac jigged over to the crib, pulling out a big, wooden box
from under it. He carried it over to the Pool Table,
sprawling it out on the side. Looking over at Jason,
wondering if he knew what it was.
"Remember this?" Isaac asked.
"Shit. Just as I left it," Jason said. Taking the lid off.
Inside – was a 'Nude America' magazine on the bottom, under
a 'Skank Fortune' book. A silver-framed .40 caliber Beretta
handgun, with two clip's. A Swiss Army knife. A mini box of
condoms, and a 5-year old Speeding Ticket on top -- unpaid.
He pulled out the Beretta, feeling the rubber grip and
getting used to the weight of it. Observing that the condom
box was already opened, unlike he'd left it. Smirking at
Isaac.
"I opened it once to oil the piece, 'bout a week ago. But I
didn't use no rubber's," Isaac explained.
Jason took black, leather shoulder holster from the Pool
Table. Throwing it care-lessly over his shoulder. He stared
at Isaac for a moment, a stiff face.
"Well, maybe once. A while ago. And I didn't enjoy," Isaac
told him. Soon breaking into a laugh.
"I should throw you out the window for messing with my
shit!" Jason teased.
"Then ... you wouldn't see ya baby," Isaac said. Giving his
trademarked, 'Handsome-Man Smile' that was worth a million
buck's, or maybe only 200k.
A tricked-out silver Mercedes-Benz SL 500 waited down-
stair's. Parked in Isaac's vast garage, where he also kept
two other car's. The second pride of Jason's life. It had
four custom rim's that sparkled of gold-silver. Costing him
a small fortune. The black interior had red mat's on the
floor, each one with a grinning Devil on the front. Given
that symbol after his friend's said it drove like a Bat out
of Hell. He won it in a Poker game a few year's back to a
world-renown player, taking care of it ever since.
"Well, there she is," Isaac said.
Jason – wearing a black silk Hawaiian shirt, which featured
blue design's on the front. Resembling a dragon. Also
dressed in a pair of black, leather pant's and similar
colored boot's, stood there. Now minus his dorky-ass
clothes. The key-chain in his hand dangled lightly. He
walked across the outside to approach the Driver's Side
door, opening it to climb inside. He stuck the key in the
ignition to enjoy the pounding purr of the car starting up.
Isaac walked over to a pillar, where a switch was attached.
Pressing the green button in the middle of the device. A
beep signaled, steadily forcing the garage door to open.
"Anytime you need some-place to go," Isaac shouted over the
engine. "...you know where I live."
Jason nodded his head. Then hit the gas-pedal, hammering out
of the garage into an alley, to hang the left corner. Coming
to a stop between two building's, switching on his turn-
signal. He drove out onto the street, heading out to, "The
Big Easy."
"That white boy is gonna get my black ass killed," Isaac
remarked. Closing the garage door, and going to attend to
his business.