“I’ll come for your decision tomorrow at eighteen hundred hours,” the General said when he dropped me back at the lone stone house in the cold wilderness. It was almost ten p.m.
Now the lights were on in the house. I saw a man moving through the lighted curtain.
This is life, I said to myself. You can’t kill every immoral man, I cautioned myself. But if there’s a man in there with my wife, he’s a dead man.
I walked around to the side of the house, sure that whoever was there heard the Hummer roll up over the ice. I heard the door open and feet crushing snow as he stepped out. I walked around front so swiftly he was startled. Before I could snap his neck I saw his face. It was Marcus.
* * *
Seated in her attic bedroom, purposely in the dark, I was behind a wooden pillar and the beam of moonlight. I waited. He told me she would soon come. I told him not to mention that I was here. I wanted to send him out and away. But, I did realize that would be too cruel due to the cold isolated location. Aside from that, he seemed less crazy than before. I’m sure it was the outcome of being in the atmosphere and presence of my lovely wife, his sister, who he had missed out on when he was young. He also told me that he had been working for her, managing her New York vending business. “She needed me to deal with the men,” he said proudly. I smiled. Turns out he works for me. But I knew he didn’t need to hear that. I let it go.
I heard a vehicle roll up. I didn’t look. She always saw too much. I didn’t want to give myself away by appearing in the window or peering through the curtains before I could feel and see her true reaction. I smiled. She is eighteen now. Had her license, was driving now. Then I heard voices two flights down but couldn’t distinguish their words. She didn’t run right up. So I guess he kept his word and didn’t tell her I was here.
Half an hour later, I heard her approaching slowly. It was strange because she was usually so swift. When she finally appeared, she was carrying something on her back. I stood still as a statue. She turned to pull out a dresser drawer and I saw my baby on her back. Alhamdulillah! My racing heart was beating now like a war drum. So loud I thought she could hear it. She placed our baby in the drawer after laying a blanket inside of it. She bent over and gently laid the drawer on the floor at the top of her cot. She began to undress. On her blouse a pendant of gold wings glistened. Badass, she had even become a pilot. Her hair was still wild beneath her hijab. She removed it. It was thick and braided into only two braids, even longer than before. Giving birth had made it grow. I had missed watching all of that happen. Her sculpted shoulders were still exquisite and her back a diamond cut. Her waist was still tiny ballerina and her butt African lovely. Still training, she had made that happen. She must still be shooting her bows and arrows. Her arms were lean and tight. She turned around and leaned back against her dresser. Her milk and honey breasts and hips more beautiful than heaven.
“If you only knew,” she said softly, and tears fell from her smokey-gray eyes, “you wouldn’t tease me by staring from over there. Come over here and love me.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This time around I’d like to acknowledge the people, the book readers and book buyers. Please accept my deep appreciation to each and every one of you.
Specifically, I’d like to thank every single youth and student who has taken it upon him or herself to ask for, find, and buy my novels even when your teachers have either refused or failed to assign or provide them to you.
Also, I’d like to thank those teachers, principals, and school districts courageous enough to order and buy my books because they are concerned about storytelling that connects to and improves the lives and realities of their student population.
Deep appreciation to every librarian who has ordered enough copies of my books to serve their communities. To the financially poor girls and boys who can only afford to check my books out at the library. That used to be me!!!
I’d like to send a heartfelt thank-you to the prison population, those who have purchased, passed around, shared and discussed my novel in order to create a new understanding and better lives for themselves.
Last, but never the least, I’d like to thank every father and mother who have handed the Midnight novels to their sons and daughters in hopes that they might make better choices and lead better lives than WE ever did.
Books offer knowledge that make it possible for us to break the negative cycles that we all have become too comfortable accepting.
Love,
Sister Souljah
CONTACT SISTER SOULJAH FOR ALL INQUIRES:
Website:
sistersouljah.com
Email:
[email protected]
Text/Phone:
201.888.7059
Mail:
Sister Souljah
Souljah Story Inc.
208 East 51st Street, #2270
New York, New York 10022
* Please do not send unsolicited materials, manuscripts, screenplays, etc. We do not accept.
Be sure to check out these other books by Sister Souljah
The Coldest Winter Ever
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A Deeper Love Inside
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Midnight
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Midnight and the Meaning of Love
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Sister Souljah is best known for her work as a political activist and educator of underclass urban youth. A graduate of Rutgers University, she is a beloved personality in her own community. She lives in Jersey City with her husband and son. Visit her online at SisterSouljah.com.
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Also by Sister Souljah
NONFICTION
No Disrespect
FICTION
The Coldest Winter Ever
Midnight: A Gangster Love Story
Midnight and the Meaning of Love
A Deeper Love Inside: The Porsche Santiaga Story
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Souljah Story, Inc.
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ISBN 978-1-4767-6598-3
ISBN 978-1-4767-6600-3 (ebook)
CONTENTS
A Moment of Silence
> Chapter 1: My Second Wife
Chapter 2: The Execution
Chapter 3: The Silence
Chapter 4: The Red Bag
Chapter 5: Tetris
Chapter 6: Naja
Chapter 7: Honor
Chapter 8: The Wall
Chapter 9: Right to an Attorney
Chapter 10: New Business
Chapter 11: Wealth, My First Wife
Chapter 12: Coach Vega
Chapter 13: Identity
Chapter 14: Night Nurse
Chapter 15: Aunt Tasha
Chapter 16: Rikers Island, The Kids’ Complex
Chapter 17: Naja’s Watching
Chapter 18: Friends
Chapter 19: Hustler’s League
Chapter 20: Marcus
Chapter 21: The She-Officer
Chapter 22: The Eagle
Chapter 23: Trust
Chapter 24: In Population
Chapter 25: Lavidicus
Chapter 26: Light
Chapter 27: Doing Time
Chapter 28: The Hustler’s League Championship
Chapter 29: Vines
Chapter 30: The Men
Chapter 31: The Unknown
Chapter 32: The Negotiation
Acknowledgments
About Sister Souljah
Table of Contents
Cover
A Moment of Silence
Chapter 1: My Second Wife
Chapter 2: The Execution
Chapter 3: The Silence
Chapter 4: The Red Bag
Chapter 5: Tetris
Chapter 6: Naja
Chapter 7: Honor
Chapter 8: The Wall
Chapter 9: Right to an Attorney
Chapter 10: New Business
Chapter 11: Wealth, My First Wife
Chapter 12: Coach Vega
Chapter 13: Identity
Chapter 14: Night Nurse
Chapter 15: Aunt Tasha
Chapter 16: Rikers Island, The Kids’ Complex
Chapter 17: Naja’s Watching
Chapter 18: Friends
Chapter 19: Hustler’s League
Chapter 20: Marcus
Chapter 21: The She-Officer
Chapter 22: The Eagle
Chapter 23: Trust
Chapter 24: In Population
Chapter 25: Lavidicus
Chapter 26: Light
Chapter 27: Doing Time
Chapter 28: The Hustler’s League Championship
Chapter 29: Vines
Chapter 30: The Men
Chapter 31: The Unknown
Chapter 32: The Negotiation
Acknowledgments
About Sister Souljah
Copyright
A Moment of Silence: Midnight III Page 56
