The Golden Dame

by Kingpin

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8: THE STORY OF SWISS’S OLD MAN

  CHAPTER 9: BEEN SQUADD

  CHAPTER 10: MELWHEEZY’S RETURN TO THE BLOCK

  The Golden Dame

  Copyrighted © 2014 by Curtis Cross (KingPin)

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any fashion whatsoever without the written and signed permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Chapter 1

  “Fuck, he hit me, weeks, days, hours and minutes of turmoil--- but he finally fucking hit me, I thought it’d never get this far but he fucking hit me, he did it Curtis”. I was going to reply, but I heard her utter those words many times over and this was probably the last time I would have my ears hear them, it simply caused too much pain each time I heard it, knowing I was powerless to do anything about it, and because she simply didn’t want me to do anything--- it’s one thing to help someone, but I have never been one to help someone who didn’t seek my assistance, even if she was my first love--- and quite possibly my only love.

  Those were the last words I heard from her before I left the city for good--- before I left my loving and devouring neighbourhood. She was the main part of my reason I was there even as long as I was, that city devours every segment of your cognition, ripping apart your humanity, it was always torturous to be there, but she was my neutralizing agent--- each day I saw her, my crappiest days would be given a great ending. I loved her--- I did, well at least I believe it to be love. Nevertheless, her presence was too intoxicating and definitely too destructive, for us both. She is and will forever be my best friend but the love I felt for her was quite irrational. It was like she was straight out of a fantasy book- - she probably was, despite her intimidating beauty and wondrous charm she still found a way to be as cliché as possible in having an impeccable taste in shitty ass men. Not just regular men, no, not regular ones, she loved mobsters, and not just mobsters- - godfather like mobsters. Harold Kingpin they called him, he was the head of our begotten city and the place was so cleverly named ‘Blood Demon City’, well it used to be Los Angeles, we no longer call it that, since demons travelled so constantly there it was only right for us to change the name, besides, the blood gang was also the dominant gang, we didn’t necessarily beef over colours though, we did so over respect, weapons, drugs, and yes, sometimes even bitches--- but that’s what I have tried to avoid for the most of my life.

  Aside from our city name, the city dame was Ether Smithson, who was both my best friend and the woman who sat at the right hand of Harold Kingpin. I was just a drug dealer, distributer and assassin, nothing more, nothing less. I had my own crew and they respected me with every cell in their body- - I had a nice thing going for me in our little immoral city. Ether ran the brothel, called ‘Brothether’, the mainstay for me and the crew. Even though I was in control of hundreds of men, Harold the kingpin had thousands. I often compared our standing for the same reason anyone else would, paranoia--- after all I am a black man and paranoia is practically innate- - and also because I was madly in love with Ether and I know she probably was too, she just was unable to be exclusively with someone with as little power as I had when she had an opportunity to be with the most powerful. That’s some shit that plays on a man’s ego though, she often said “Curtis I love you, but all you have are these blocks, Harold has the city”, to which I had no reply, as to attempt to be as powerful as him I would ultimately have to create a blood war and overthrow the cat, why would I, it made no sense to become engaged in such a laborious task for the sake of one woman. It all still played on my mind though, especially seeing her putting herself in the way of physical harm, I was led to do the only think I could think of- move away from Blood Demon. I moved to a Fresno county, a peaceful place where the population mainly engage in; farming, cultivation and manufacturing of canned goods, which is also one of the few places in our country not stained by the Kingpin, or any other drug lords for that matter, the people just seem to not allow negativity to embrace their world, all they drink here is moonshine, and most of them make it at home, all I do is smoke though, so drinking doesn’t have that allure for me, and I can grow my own shit to smoke so it’s practically a costless habit.

  In Fresno, I spent most of my nights on the rusty old roof of my cabin and indulge in the splendour of the skies, in those nights I couldn’t help but reminisce on the blissful moments I once spent with Ether--- the magnificence of her beauty, the glistening of her hair as it hit the night lights of Brotheter. I was always able to vividly recall that night she called me frantic, saying “Curtis I miss you”, “I miss you too baby girl” a reply she would punish me exquisitely for. Within minutes or even seconds after she hung up, she was at the steps beneath my door in her golden lingerie---no panty was visible, and only a patch of gold on her breasts---fuck, that shit would make even the most virtuous of men twinkle in their trousers. I know I was twinkling like the little star in that nursery rhyme. That night we made love to our hearts content, a love so sweet it would make even Lucifer cry tears of joy. But you know what, fuck that bitch, she chose her poison, why shouldn’t I let her pander in her mistakes? --- Why shouldn’t she die of her sorrows in ye old Blood Demon City?

  “Probably because you love her!”

  “Shut the fuck up voice in my head.” --- Besides, at that point nothing had really changed, I still would have to rise to a Kingpin status and also kill Harold in order to have the power that she so desperately needed. I was thinking too much by that point so, I did what any nigga thinking too much would do at that point and I took a puff of my blunt and a sip of that moonshine I made and left earth (I got high), to me life is about getting high, and making money, nothing else really matters.

  Chapter 2

  ‘He hit me’ was only the gist of her final statement, she followed that up saying ‘so what now what?”--- Final words that would haunt my ears intermittently ever since I left for Fresno, it’s hard for me to not think about it all, besides, she was and is indeed my friend--- my best friend for that matter, one of the few people that was really there for me when my family came to the US of A from the Central American Country of Belize. She was actually the only female other than my mother and sister that spoke to me when we first came to this place known as the land or opportunities. I’m sorry but I don’t like calling cities by their real name for some reason, so I will be referring to Los Angeles as Blood city throughout this journal. I was always planning to leave there though, and it seems Ether was that final push I needed, at that point I have already saved up a little over five million dollars from my trades in drugs and weapons and it was time for me to leave the Squadd and retire with peace of mind, I was only 27 years old at that point though---Fuck what you say, hood niggas make millions too. Getting millions wasn’t as easy as it sounds, it required years of expansion, recruiting and a whole lot of debauchery--- a lot of niggas and bitches died for us to become as successful as we have, just to give you a taste of my evil, my nickname is Swiss--- not because I’m from Switzerland neither nigga, I just get so creative with the Swiss army knife, I mainly like disembowelling my victims, the beauty of it encroaches my body with ecstasy. I had no desire to become as malevolent as I was or am, these streets are frigid, the people are vile, the only way to survive and prosper out here is by using our God- given ability to adapt, and like them you must too become vile and abhorrent. In all honesty, I would love to be more pleasant, if others would be, the best people I have ever met thus far, exist in Fresno, I mean they are
all around good people, even if they are simply good compared to those that I have met in Blood Demon, even my main Squadd Niggas; Benzino, Popdawg and Melwheezy were despicable, who could blame them though, we all came from a stone cold place where even your blood brother would make a meal of you if he was hungry enough, despite anything else they were ‘realer’ than even my blood brother surely so I can’t necessarily talk lowly of any of them, nor can I speak too highly.

  Demon Blood truly makes Fresno look and feel like heaven, even to the extent that when I die, I need not be sent up to heaven, I’d rather float to my heart’s content with the ‘Diamond people’, that’s what I called them, they are like diamonds in my world of Demons. Still, even as happy as Diamond Bay makes me, I still would love to have both, the good and the bad I mean. It seems in this world people can either be really bad or really good, two extremes. It’s a desire I believe exists in all of us, that yearning for chaos but wanting peace similarly--- that’s the human dilemma I presume. We all know peace is the ideal, but cannot help but to desire and love chaos--- that’s why many of us love hip- hop music--- why we love drill and trap music, and especially why we turn the news on to hear of conflicts and deaths. For some reason we love to hear of violence, and for those of us that are in the world of violence, battle and seeing blood gives us that thrill. Fresno, or the Diamond city, what I often refer to that heavenly place, is where I found balance, not necessarily balance, but pure peace, the most I would hear of is a little farmer scuffle (a laugh here). I met a couple dames there but I guess they were too virtuous; I seemed to chase them all away with this putrid, distasteful attitude of mine. I’m just kidding around, am not a baller to that extent to be getting a lot of virtuous women chasing after me, to be exact, there was only one, her name was Lucy--- an exquisite woman that was able to make me quiver and shiver with every touch she’d deliver. She was from a distant city known as New York or the Bustling city. Well, Bustling was what we both called it, where the people there are always so busy and for the most part, are pretty emotionless, well that’s what she told me. There are many cities, but in my world all I see is the Diamond City and Demon Blood, the best of each extreme, heaven and hell, everywhere else were supporting factions in my mind’s eye. Lucy often told me of her lavish lifestyle back home in the bustle, she had it all but still found no joy in the wealth that surrounded her, and the greed that attempted to allure her. All of this led her consciousness to that decrepit place of normalcy. It seemed that even in her escape of the evils of wealth to discover a life of purity; she still managed to find me--- a soldier from a violent and horrendous world who is still desperately trying to find his way in this world. She hated the pain I brought to her world, I could see that, but she also loved my nature, the way I both favoured and felt nothing for her. She loved my character still, as initial poverty and being striven towards success for the most of one’s life really builds a person. I would assume, what she hated most was the way I spoke of Ether, my ‘damsel in distress’, as I often thought those words out loud. Yes, she was visualized as my damsel in distress by my mind even though she was not necessarily distressed. I think that is the main reason she left, from here earlier this year, but I’m a pretty clueless cat. I didn’t even fight for her as she wasn’t my fight, or so I thought at the time. I surely didn’t have the magnitude of love for her that she had for me, and most definitely not the level of love I had internalized for Ether. Imagine that fucking shit though, a hood nigga referring to a woman as his ‘damsel in distress’, if Hood Gods existed, they would have smacked me tirelessly for that shit.

  Even though I didn’t love Lucy extensively, I still loved her and couldn’t help but recall the last night she was in my Diamond City Cabin. It was a regular day, which led up to one of our usual nights. We bought groceries earlier that day, cooked some spaghetti and meatballs with a side of grits--- I love grits, it is the one food that reminds me of the struggles and motivates me to preserve my success. Lucy loved grits too, because it gives her that glimpse of poverty that she had never in her past life been given the ability to experience, well that is until she met ‘a real street nigga nicknamed Swiss’. So there we were sitting on the rooftop of my cabin, with its pimped out insides and weathered external beauty, as we gazed at the stars and sipped on whisky, she told me in that beautiful, seductive voice of hers “we’ve been up here for nights upon nights star gazing, I am now curious about why we’re up here so much, I stare and I stare but I don’t really see much, the same twinkles, the same light, there are not much changes whatsoever”, I replied in a whisper “I try to link the patterns of the stars to create an image”. “My mother once told me ‘if you look at the heavens long enough and stare hard enough, you will see an image, and that image you see when the stars are linked, is that which you desire the most’ that’s what I try to when I stare at the heavens, see that which I desire most”. At that moment, she did what any rational woman would do and questioned “what do you see when you stare at the heavens?”

  Without first thinking, or even a shadow of a thought, with the exhalation that followed my inhalation and the end of her query, I uttered “Ether”. “Okay” was her response. In her response, I knew something had changed in her, the beauty and seduction in her voice had disappeared and at that very instance I knew I had lost the only woman that loved me exclusively, regardless of vanity or purity. And for the life of me I couldn’t apologize--- I was unable to muster up enough strength to apologize, as to me an apology is a sign of weakness, therefore, to apologize means to accept that you are weak. I often wondered if my inability to apologize was due to me not wanting to perceive myself to be weak, was my apologize swerved by my love for Ether, or fid I care about Lucy enough to spare her the torturous life that she would endure with Mr. Swiss. I expected her to leave the morning after my blunder, but that wasn’t the case, she left at mid- night--- the smell of whisky and moonshine that had spilled on her at dinner awakened me from my slumber, but I was reluctant to get up and truly make that attempt at weakness—at apology I mean. I again swerved--- fuck why did I swerve? She was the one for me, so virtuous, so loving and most of all she was practically the only thing in this world that was ever all mine. All the money I had stashed and had sent back home to the Caribbean could all be taken away in one fell swoop, my cabin, gone in the blink of an eye, my house on 27th avenue could be lost in a single S.W.A.T. raid (regular police don’t fuck with the squad), but Lucy. I had her, I possessed her heart, her body, her mind too, she often said “Swiss, you have me totally and completely, mind, body and soul”, I know the soul cannot be possessed by one other than the supreme being, but her words still would excite me. Despite all that, I swerved, not once, or twice, but incessantly. Thoughts of Ether didn’t always devour me, but the night skies seem to be the most reminiscent of her. I wonder if this is the human way, to have light but lust for the dark, to have love but still thirst for hatred. It’s as if we are all inherently self- destructive, even though we as humans are cognizant of this we choose to maintain and even nurture that nature we have as I have chosen to do.

  The next morning I awoke, no Lucy, and one new envelope in my mailbox. It was from Lucy, a short letter--- I popped open the package and read her last words slowly “Curtis, I know you know that I love you deeply, and probably have loved you and only you so far in this lifetime, but this love- hate relationship that you seem to be perpetuating and are trying to involve me in is not only insensitive but quite stupid, I can only get in the way of your aspirations at this point. I know you miss your squadd and Ether, I will allow you to do as you wish, I will at this point offer you one final means of recourse with me, I am giving you one year to do as you may and find your way, at the end of this paper you will see an address--- if your love for me overwhelms everything else, go there and you will find me. You have 365 days, that’s longer than any other woman would’ve given you, but then again I am not an average gal” signed ‘Lucy.

  Chapter 3

>   After reading her letter, I thought ‘365 days, fuck, this girl must truly love a nigga’. Even in leaving, she proved herself to be the most intelligent girl and quite possible the most intelligent person I have ever met. Without that letter I would’ve never known what it was that I had to do, it was then clearer than ever. I had to return to Demon Blood and face my demons. I said to myself “if all else fails and it doesn’t work out back home, I can always make a swift run to this address”, for some strange reason I also whispered “thank you Lucy---my sweet”, I was seemingly grateful for the fact that she not only was the reason I would return to my old home, but she also gave me the capacity to fail and return to her--- that was some real lover- girl type shit. Apparently I had been more transparent than I would be willing to admit, it was clear to her that I was struggling between dark and light and she knew that this wasn’t necessarily her fight, nor was it her path--- it was a road that I had to stroll alone.

  No matter how much years go by, Demon Blood will always be my home, ‘home is where you make it and where your heart it’, but to me ‘home is where the fun is’ and all the fun shit is in Demon Blood, maybe that’s because I’m a demon by blood, I even have that shit inked in. My founding squadd niggas and I decided to get matching tattoos when we were a bit younger and we all have four demons tatted on our backs, each representing one of us. We went thru with the inks so we could always live on somewhere, it was sort of a shrine to the squadd and a reminder of our true nature each day we caught a glimpse of the image on our skins. Harry was the Kingpin in the city, but my Squadd still held shit down, we have always been the most violent and highest earning niggas out there. Benzino, Popdawg and Melwheezy are my next 3/ 4, I am certain they miss me whenever I’m not around, especially during my stay in the Diamond city, two years in Diamond City surely took its toll on them niggas, regardless if they would admit it or not. They missed call me practically every day, only taking breaks on the weekends, not actually ever calling me to hear my voice, but simply to show respect and remind me that I was always welcome on 37th avenue. I found it a bit strange, but at the point when Lucy was homebound and left me, the guys had not called me for about seven straight days, I shrugged it off as them being too busy---it was by then already Christmas time though and ‘tis the drug sale escalation season’. Despite being aware of the seasonal changes, I couldn’t help but to pondering upon the possibility of something being wrong with the guys, and in the midst of my pondering I heard my phone ring five times, five times usually means code- red or emergency--- I immediately picked up my phone and redialled. As the phone rang, I felt my heart beat increasing and my blood pressure elevating---on the other line I heard Benzino’s voice exclaiming “they ate his food fam, them niggas got him”, I responded without even taking a single breath,” What the fuck you mean they ate his food Benzino, whose food?” “They ate Popdawg’s food Swiss”. Crushed--- That shit crushed me, I began to think about what all I could’ve done if I was there, and if I just might have been able to save my nigga, I thought I wouldn’t have been much difference, as death knows who it wants next, regardless of any interveners.--- It was unbeknownst to me at that point, but I could’ve definitely saved his life, simply by being there. It makes no sense for me to have regrets about what could’ve been though, but instead, what will be.