Priest was halfway down the stairs when I made my way out of the apartment.
I got outside to see Priest getting into a non-descript mid-size Dodge.
I got in and showcased my curiosity.
“Whose ride is this?”
Priest turned to me with the most serious face I had seen in some time.
“It’s not important.”
Priest started up the ride, and Kraftworks’ classic “Trans Europe Express” was bumping through the speakers. We rode for twenty minutes not exchanging a word. We parked a half a block from the bar.
Priest turned the headlights off, and we waited. Almost two hours had passed when Steel walked out of the bar and got into Rico’s white Pathfinder
“It’s on,” Priest said nonchalantly.
Priest started up the car.
We followed a car or two behind.
I began to get a little concerned, the longer we tailed, the more likely Steel could catch on. Priest didn’t look worried in the least.
We were still following at a safe distance, but there were fewer cars on the road. We had to get Steel soon, or it would be obvious we were following.
I was just about to mention this to Priest when he turned down a side street.
We drove down a few more connecting streets and parked.
Priest went into his waistband and pulled out a twenty-two revolver.
“Get the car ready,” Priest said as he exited the car. The dark of night and Priest’s black trench and stocking cap made him almost invisible. I watched him go and sit on the steps of some house. I saw the Pathfinder coming down the street. It pulled into a driveway opposite the side of the road where Priest was sitting. Priest got up and started across the street with his hand in his pocket.
Steel was getting out of the Navigator; unaware Priest was behind him.
Soon as Steel chirped the alarm Priest began to fire shots to Steel’s head.
The shots sounded as harmless as firecrackers but were a hundred percent fatal. Steel was still standing as his neck jerked from the shots. Then suddenly he fell to the ground like someone had turned off his life’s switch.
Priest stood over him. I could see his gun smoking. I wondered what he was thinking.
I was pulling towards him I flashed the lights, not wanting to honk the horn for apparent reasons.
Priest walked swiftly to the car and jumped in.
I drove off doing the speed limit.
Priest began to take off his trench and stocking cap and replaced it with a flashy red leather jacket.
Priest began to giving me directions, which I followed till we were somewhere in the suburbs.
We pulled into an unfamiliar driveway. Priest reached into the glove compartment, pulled out and pressed a garage door opener.
I parked in the garage, and we got out and walked toward the house.
Priest snatched off the thirty-day tags that were covering the license plate.
We walked to the side door of the house and Priest knocked four times. The door opened, but I couldn’t see who opened it.
Priest walked into the house. It was pitch black except for a corner of light coming from the basement.
Priest started down the basement stairs, and I followed. On the way down I could feel someone shadowing behind us. Since this was a friendly place, I didn’t turn to look.
When we reached the dimly lit basement the first thing I noticed was a picture of Slim and Bird on the wall. My tension automatically went away.
The shadow then spoke. “Did everything go all right?” The voice was very familiar.
Priest answered. “Yeah, it went well.”
We both turned around and to my amazement standing there with a cast iron expression was Big Walt. Looking at his familiar unfriendly face, I tried to hold back the smile that I was forming.
“Did you get in a couple for me?” Big Walt said.
Priest went into his pocket and handed Walt the pistol.
“Of course I did, what are friends for?” Priest said without a hint of sarcasm.
Walt unlocked the pistol’s tumbler and emptied all six-shell casings into a can.
“You didn’t waste shit, unh young blood?” Big Walt said to Priest
Big Walt walked over and dumped the shells in an incinerator.
“You all ready to go? Want something to drink?”
“Hell no, Walt, you think we’re trying to sit here and look mean with you all night?”
We all piled into Walt’s eighty-eight Park Avenue.
I listened to Walt and Priest chat and tried not to think of death. I noticed Priest kept looking at me in the side mirror. When we got to his apartment, I decided I’d go straight home and see if I could get some rest.
“You gonna be all right Moses?” Priest said with a look of concern.
“Yeah, I’m cool,” I said even though I wasn’t.
Priest, knowing me well could see right through me.
“Hey remember Moses we didn’t make the rules.”
That was the last thing Priest told me before he marched up the stairs.
On the ride home I tried to rationalize what happened that night.
I concentrated on convincing myself that if I were in front of the barrel instead of behind it, neither Steel nor Rico would find or even look for any remorse for my murder. Those thoughts enough got me home.
I tensed up when I got to my floor. I looked down the hallway to see a man banging his fist on one of the apartment doors.
“Melody, open this door! I know you’re in there.”
It was William. He was easily unrecognizable. He appeared disheveled; he probably hadn’t had a decent meal since Melody left.
My disdain turned to pity when I heard him say, “Please Melody, please open the door.”
There’s nothing more pitiful than a man who ain’t too proud to beg. I had to interject. “Hey man, you wanna ease up on my door? Your fool-in-love antics is gonna wind up lowering the property value.”
“Moses, tell Melody to come out and talk!”
I ignored him; I opened the door and closed it behind me.
I turned on the light; Melody was nowhere in sight.
Here this dude was giving an award-winning performance as the pussy-whipped husband, unaware that it was a dress rehearsal.
I went and checked the entire apartment. Melody wasn’t there. I quickly opened the door.
“Look, she’s not here. Now go the fuck home!”
William started looking over my shoulder and talking loudly into the apartment.
“Well if you see her, tell her! I miss her, and I want her to come home!”
It was too late in the evening to laugh at him, so I opted for slamming the door in his face.
I went straight to the bedroom. I tried in vain to coax myself unconscious but wound up sitting on the edge of the bed; seeing flashes of Steel fall to the ground and Priest standing over him.
I didn’t feel sad or satisfied. I felt nothing. I just couldn’t get the scene out of my head.
I managed to fall asleep only to dream about the same thing.
August 23, 1996
My alarm clock imitated the sound of Priest’s pistol firing. I was jolted awake. It was ten o’clock.
I didn’t feel the least bit rested, but was a lot more comfortable awake than I was asleep.
I tried hard to find something peaceful to think about; my thoughts immediately turned to Angel. Today was to be our last conversation. Angel’s sweet face and velvet voice would indeed be enough to cure the mean street strife that infected me. I shaved; dressed and sprayed myself with the most fly fragrance I could find.
I want her last impression of me to be memorable.
I was amazed at how easy the trip out to the burbs’ had become. I didn’t miss a single turn. A place I considered an entirely different world, was now oddly familiar.
I parked across the street from the coffee shop. I didn’t see Angel sitting outside. I decide
d to get a head start and order some coffee, hoping the caffeine would help wipe away some of the cobwebs coiled around my emotions.
I had finished a half a cup when I saw Angel, gliding up the block toward me. She was wearing a beige dress.
My eyes soaked up what would be my last look at her approach. Her complexion seemed to sparkle radiantly in the bright sunlight.
Angel winked at me as she made her way around to the counter. Damn, I was going to miss her.
“Hey Moses, have you been waiting long?” “Not at all. It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Thank you,” She said with a smile. “I’m kind of disappointed though,” She continued. “This being your last day out here.”
I felt the same way, but I didn’t want to have a sad goodbye. “Come on Angel; this is supposed to be a celebration. Weren’t we supposed to have some cake?”
Angel’s frown slowly turned into a smile.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go get some.”
Angel got up and brought back one giant slice of German chocolate cake and two plastic forks.
We laughed and talked until the hunk of the cake turned into crumbs.
“Moses, when I met you, you were talking about how you were from the streets and all that. But you know what? I don’t buy it. You’re sweet. What could you have possibly done that’s mean?”
I looked deep into her eyes and for a minute wished she was right.
I suddenly saw flashes of last night. Angel was pulling up my demons. I had to switch the subject.
“Maybe I exaggerated a little. Hey, by the way, what’s up with the paintings you were supposed to bring?
Her eyes had a tennis match rhythm looking at me and then the table like she was about to tell a lie.
“I forgot to bring them. I’m sorry,” Angel said with almost too much sincerity.
“It’s all right Angel.”
“No, it’s not all right. I had a painting that I wanted you to have.
Do you have someplace to go after this?”
“No,” I answered.
“Why don’t you ride with me to my house? That way I can show you some of my work.”
“It sounds good to me.”
We left the coffee shop and almost broke the sound barrier to her house.
When we walked in, the first thing I noticed was how neat the place was. It was like a museum or a Realtor’s model home.
Angel showed me around the house before we went into the den,
It was the only place in the house that looked lived in; there were two easels in the middle of the room, a couple of blank canvases leaning against the wall; brushes and painting palettes on a long table.
Angel went to one of the corners of the room and grabbed a painting.
“Now, if I show you this, you have to promise not to laugh.”
“I promise.”
Angel held the painting up. I smiled. It was a painting of a hot air balloon set against a rising sun.
“This is yours,” Angel said with pride.
As she handed me the painting, I felt like I was on stage, excepting an award I didn’t deserve.
I put the painting down and grabbed her by the hand.
“Angel I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful. Thank you. I wish I had something to give you.”
“You already have Moses.
"In this short time, you’ve been there for me.”
Angel leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, then looked at me with the softest eyes I had seen in years.
“Thank you, Moses.”
My hand still in hers, our stares became magnetic. I put my hands around Angel's waist and slowly drew her toward me, till we were as close as possible without touching. I moved my nose around her neck, deeply inhaling her provocative perfume.
Angel moved her head slowly around, allowing me access to the awe-inspiring aroma.
I ran my lips across her neck till I got to her ear. I slightly pulled her back and slowly caressed her cheek. I checked her eyes for apprehension, and then kissed her soft lips until our mouths were wet with anticipation. Her hands locked against my shoulders. I picked her up and placed her on the table, slightly hiking up her dress; all the while the kissing never stopped.
Her hands now shifted; one was on the back of my head, the other up my shirt and on my chest. We were both oblivious to our surroundings, lost in each other’s pleasure.
I slowly unzipped her dress and carefully peeled it to her waist. My eyes dilated and my mouth watered at the first taste of her chocolate.
My wet tongue traveled from her face, past her waist; tunneled to the taste, those made her moan and clutch her breast. That caused shortness in her breath, which made her tremble from her head to her feet until her ecstasy was released.
I kissed her softly on her love, as she quivered with pleasure. She then grabbed my hand and walked me to the bedroom. She left for a moment and then came back holding a condom. Her, once soft, eyes hardened with passion.
She kissed my lips furiously while undoing my belt. We continued undressing and caressing each other until we were completely naked, contorting our bodies and drowning in a whirlpool of lust. Thrusting in all directions; creating high pitched screaming and creaming excitement, with hearts pounding amid heavy breathing.
Her center was hot and wet, pleading with me not to stop. Her body quaked. She shrieked, exploding with euphoria.
Watching her excitement sent, exhilarating, freezing waves rushing through my body until I erupted in paralyzing pleasure.
We rested and then repeated the performance. For hours we laid their pretzel together in a climatic haze. By the time we regained consciousness, it was evening.
Angel saw the clock and frantically got dressed, realizing her concern I also got dressed.
I grabbed the painting, and we were out the door. As we got closer to the coffee shop, Angel drove at funeral procession speed. I kept turning in her direction stealing peeks of her, for posterity.
When we got to the coffee shop, all I kept thinking was how I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t even want to hear Angel say it.
Although we were driving slowly, when the car stopped, it felt strangely abrupt.
Angel turned to me and sounded the first syllable of my name before my finger gently touched her lips and struck her silent.
I gave her a soft kiss. We stared at each other for a few heartbeats.
We both smiled.
I got out of the car and never looked back.
When I reached the van, I looked at the coffee shop and the gym.
As Angel’s car pulled away, for the first time in a long time, I felt satisfied.
I wasn’t really in a rush to get back to my side of town, so I took a local route and avoided the highway.
I was a couple of miles from home when I passed by the neighborhood motel and saw Priest’s Cadillac and Tasha ’s red Mustang parked next to each other. I figured I’d find the closest pay phone and call Priest on his cell and finally tell him how much I thought he was slipping, entertaining such a scandalous broad.
I found a phone in the next parking lot over from the motel. Both cars were still in full view.
I dialed the number, and the phone was ringing when I noticed a car pulling up fast alongside Priest’s Caddy.
Priest picked up. “Hello.” Priest said as if he had just woke up.
“You should be ashamed of yourself romancing that misfit of a broad,” I said.
Priest paused.
“Moses?”
“Yeah brah, I’m outside the motel. I thought you knew better than to be messing’ with Tasha.”
I looked over again I saw who was getting out of the car that pulled up.
It was Tyreek.
He put his ear to the motel room door and then marched back to his car.
“Hello? Hello?” Priest said trying to regain my attention.
“Tasha? I wouldn’t mess with that broad. That’s Henny’s woman.”
<
br /> The news hit me like a sledgehammer. That plus Tyreek had gone in his car an emerged with a blanket covering what looked to be a shotgun or rifle.
I quickly jumped out of the van leaving the pay phone receiver lynched off the hook.
Tyreek had his ear against the door again. I was about twenty feet behind him when he started knocking on the door. If I had my pistol on me, Tyreek would have been dead.
Tyreek cocked the weapon underneath the blanket; my brain raced for a resolution. Everything was happening fast. Tyreek backed up from the door and raised his gun as the doorknob turned.
“Tyreek you punk motherfucker!” I shouted.
As the door opened, Tyreek was turning toward me.
I saw tears streaming down his face.
I hit the deck.
BOOM! The shotgun went off in my direction, sending pellets flying above me.
Tasha had opened the door, and Henny ran out of the room full speed and blind-side-sacked Tyreek. I ran over and tried kicking his ribs into little pieces as Henny threw a barrage of haymakers to his face.
During my rampage, the chrome shotgun lying on the concrete caught my eye. I realized then that Tyreek was the one who shot at Priest the other night, and not Steel. At that point, I kicked harder at his ribs, his chest and his face. The only thing that stopped me from stomping the life out of him was the clawing and screaming from Tasha and the sounds of oncoming sirens.
I pushed Tasha out of the way and pulled Henny up. We both got in our separate rides and took off in different directions.
I took the side streets home, avoiding the sirens. I got to my building and up the elevator when I felt my foot throbbing.
I hobbled to my apartment, opened the door, to see Melody sit- ting on the couch smiling, and with all of her bags packed.
I heard the sounds of Peaches& Herb “Reunited” float through my head. I smiled and said. “Melody, where are you going?”
Melody rose slowly out of her seat smiling, like a pantomime, sang in kindergarten prose, “You’re going to be an Uncle.”
Moses Scriptures Page 15
