by L. E. Newell
“Hey, baby, this ain’t too much tales in the hood for you, is it?” Sparkle smiled at Mercedes, who was sitting between him and Rainbow as they followed Woo. She gave him a curt smile in return. Luckily there were several other cars on the street where they couldn’t easily be detected. After all, the little bitch was a sort of a super snoop, so it wouldn’t be that difficult for her to spot a tail. So to play it safe, he stayed a couple of cars behind; but not far enough where he couldn’t recognize the car they were following.
“Hey, dog, this little bitch sure is acting funny. Damn, there ain’t no way that she could have missed the deputy chief dying beside that pole. If we saw it, she had to see it, too,” Rainbow said as he checked his piece. From the way things looked, they weren’t on the trail of some small fry.
“Ain’t that the old lady who was tracing that nigga Al out of the hospital? Shit, dog, she looks a lot like that old lady that came out of Don’s house that night, too.” Rainbow relived the frustrations that night had caused.
“Who are these people? I’m getting a little nervous, sweetie.” Mercedes finally spoke up in a scary tone.
Sparkle pulled her closer to him, trying to offer her a blanket of security. Damn, why’d I have to bring her along anyway? Aaw, fuck it, she here now, he thought as they watched Woo slip down as she got to the corner of the building.
Rainbow parked the car in front of a house that seemed to be abandoned, not far down the street. They told Mercedes to stay in the car as they got out and eased back to the apartments. They peeked around the corner of the building, but there was no sign of Woo or the old lady. Rainbow nodded for Sparkle to go to the other side while he covered the front entrance.
They met up at the end of the building. Sparkle started rubbing his hand across his mouth as he said, “Hey, man, I only saw one way for her to disappear like that.”
“Whatcha mean, man?”
Sparkle shook his head and started massaging his brow before he spoke. “There’s only one window open back there, but I don’t see no way she could’ve gotten to it unless she did some Spiderman shit and scaled the fucking wall.”
Rainbow cocked his head to the side, his face also full of puzzlement. “Come on, let’s just knock on the door and if it’s the old lady, we’ll pressure her to reveal whatever the fuck’s going on.”
“And if she don’t?” Sparkle asked.
“Fuck it, man, we take her ass out; you can bet your own ass that she knee deep in this here shit.” They eased up to the door and to both of their surprises, it was still ajar. As Rainbow was about to push it open, they heard sounds of a struggle coming from upstairs inside the house. He eased it open and turned around to ssh Sparkle, then stepped inside.
There was no one in the living room. Like the sound of the struggle, they heard a soft moan come from upstairs. Walking on their tiptoes they started easing up the stairs. There were no lights on, which made it feel that much more eerie and dangerous. The door to the bedroom on the left was cracked and they could see a figure lying on the floor beside the bed. As they approached the prone figure, Sparkle saw a hand shoot out and hit Rainbow in the temple. He fell down like a rag doll. Sparkle jumped back and to the side as a foot grazed his ribcage. He raised his weapon to fire at the shadow silhouetted against the curtains. As he fired, he could have sworn that he saw the figure jerk back from the impact. But there was no way he could be sure because his lights were put out by a stinging blow to the back of his head.
Sparkle moaned loudly when he came to with his head throbbing from the blow he had taken. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the cobwebs that gripped his mind. Finally able to shake away the weariness, he saw Rainbow tied and gagged a few feet away.
“Hey, they seem to be waking up,” he heard a sweet familiar voice say as he watched Rainbow’s eyes fluttering. There was a look of pure defiance written all over his face as he watched Woo walk over to him and kneel down in his face and snatch the gag out of his mouth. “Bitch, what the hell’s the matter with you?” Rainbow spat after he worked the cramps out of his jaws.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she snarled angrily.
“Of course I remember your crazy ass. You done kicked in enough of my girls’ rooms; how in the hell I can’t know you,” he snarled back at her before she slapped spit out of his mouth. He struggled against the ties bonding his arms behind his back; all to no avail.
She leaned even closer into his face and grabbed his jaws in a death grip, which had his eyes about to pop out of his head. She spat in his face, “Muthafucka, you don’t remember the woman you raped back in the war with your army buddies?”
Rainbow looked her straight in the eyes. “Bitch, I ain’t never raped no fucking body.”
“No, but you certainly didn’t stop your buddies, either, which makes it just as fucking bad, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What the fuck do that have to...” His words were choked in his throat as the recognition etched across his face.
“Wait a minute. There was only a little…oh shit, it can’t be.”
“But it is, muthafucka, that’s right. I’m that little girl and my mother died that night. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Because your sorry ass left us there.” Her eyes widened as her voice raised several octaves. “Just left us there, you, you, you bastard.”
“That’s right, our mother died that night. She was dead while my sister pulled me out of her dying womb,” another voice added from the shadows.
Rainbow and Sparkle stared at each other in total shock as Mercedes stepped out of the shadows into the glow of the moonlight. They stared at each other as they shared the same thought. Rainbow was the first to speak through his swollen lips. “So that’s how you knew every move we made?”
Woo stood up and started pacing before them. “That’s right, my baby sister here really had y’all fooled, didn’t she? Betcha thought she really loved you, huh, Mr. Sparkle? Ha, ha, ha.”
“So you was behind all the robberies and killings?” Sparkle said astonished.
She hunched her shoulders. “Uh-huh, those boys were getting in the way of my revenge; they had to go.”
“You mean that you sent that nigga JJ after us? Damn, you the one that fucked that fool up, too, ain’tcha?” Rainbow snarled.
Woo’s wicked smile said it all. “Some people will do anything to stay out of jail, and for a high, wouldn’t you say?”
“So why kill her?” He nodded toward the prone body beside the bed.
“Aunt Rose, the ho from Miami? Hell, to tell you the truth, I think she might have gotten in a few deaths of her own; the wicked muthafucka that she is. Besides, that bitch was living on borrowed time anyway and she knew too damn much. But enough, boys, it was nice hunting. Now it’s time for some nice killing. I’ve waited a long time for this here,” Woo snarled as she snapped the guitar string so loud that it popped an echo before she wrapped it around Rainbow’s neck.
There was a sadistic smile on her face as she started to pull the lines tight. Rainbow twisted and struggled, but to no avail, as his eyes started to budge out of his head. Her smile changed drastically when the loud report of gunfire blazed through the night. Woo’s grip automatically relaxed when the bullet spiraled through her neck and she tumbled to the floor. The sound was instantly echoed by the explosion of glass shattering when Mercedes dove through the window.
“Y’all aight?” The wonderful sound of Beverly’s voice was that of an angel as she sprinted to the window to see Mercedes disappearing down the dark alley behind the building. She quickly checked the pulse of the unconscious Rainbow before she untied him and helped him to his feet. “It’s a good thing that I decided to follow you after I left Violet’s apartment.” She stood up and headed for Sparkle. “But what ho from Miami was she talking about?”
Rainbow and Sparkle looked toward the bed and then back at each other in shock.
Hell, Aunt Rose was no longer there; she’d disappeared.
About the Author
L.E. Newell was born in Atlanta, Georgia. He is the author of Durty South Grind.
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Reader Discussion Guide
1. Are you curious or perhaps confused about who’s behind Rainbow’s and Sparkle’s troubles?
2. What is your opinion about Beverly’s dedication to these hustlers?
3. Could, or would you be, under similar circumstances?
4. Do you think Lt. Woo’s overzealous intent to destroy the clique is in the line of duty “to serve and protect” or beyond?
5. In the vein of the ever increasing prison recidivism rate, how do you feel about Sparkle’s choice—to go straight or come to the aide of his lifelong friends?
6. How do you feel about how easily Violet accepted Mercedes under her legendary wings?
7. Is she doing it to control the girl as a protégé, or as a means to measure her status with her man, or as a way to control him and her?
8. How long would you be able to accept denial after denial trying to be a law-abiding citizen, knowing that your felony record is a major roadblock; compared to a life of money, romance, drugs and countless luxuries that you’ve been accustomed to for years?
9. What do you think of Mercedes’ role and devotion to the gang? Is she sincere, optimistic, greedy or maybe even revengeful?
10. Who do you think is the controlling force behind the young hoodlums and why?
11. What do you think of RJ? Is he a bigot? An overambitious crook with a badge? Or a silver spoon-born optimistic?
12. Do you see Al as gangster gone wild, a love-blinded fool, or a psychopath?
13. What do you think of Beverly’s persona, as far as measuring up to what fits a person of police chief status?
14. Imagine the answers to these questions being a jigsaw puzzle to your own life—one that you actually survived. In the end this is what I chose to do: “Tell ya about it.” Hopefully, one of these younguns out there wanting to live the life will read this and see “That it ain’t worth it.”
NEW TO THE GRIND? FIND OUT HOW IT ALL GOT STARTED
Durty South Grind
BY L.E. NEWELL
AVAILABLE FROM STREBOR BOOKS
CHAPTER ONE
Breaking the Chains
It was another humid day in the summer of 2006 in the rural woods of southern Georgia. The sun was finally starting to break through the daily density of fog at the Valdosta State Prison. The sounds of the stirring of the inmate population inside the life-choking, razor-wired fences found Sparkle awakening to the final day of his bit and hopefully the beginning of a new life in the outside world.
The irritating clanging of chimes over the PA system was really starting to irritate him. He rolled over and squeezed the hard plastic-covered pillow as tightly as he could over his head to block out the persistent noise. He tried squeezing his eyes tight but that didn’t work, either. Finally, he realized that more sleep was out of the question and sat up in the bed. It had been well over a year since he’d given up eating early in the morning. He had begun feeling nauseated and occasionally had thrown up after devouring that godforbidden slop. Getting to the chow hall certainly wasn’t a priority for him.
A sharp rapping on the door was followed by the voice of his chain gang running mate, Skeet, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Yo, Sparkle, get yo ass up, man!” This did away with whatever rest was left.
Sparkle fell back on the bed, turned over on his stomach and pulled the wool cover over his head, shouting in a grumbling tone, “What?”
Skeet rapped harder. “Hey, man, come on; get yo ass up, nigga. We got some thangs to kick around afore you raise up outta here.”
Sparkle, still in a sleepy haze, thought, Aw man, I’m getting outta this dungeon today. Man, let me get up outta this here rack. He had a big smile spread across his face. He peeked over his forearm and focused on the door’s frosty sheet of Plexiglas where Skeet was still yelling, “Come on, man, get up and splash some water on that ugly-ass mug and get the funk outta your mouth.” He was cheesing hard through the pane. Sparkle could only see his teeth and big bulbous nose. Even though he was looking directly at him, he continued rapping and yelling, “Come on, bitch, get yo ass up. It’s time for you to roll outta this dungeon.”
“Ugh,” Sparkle grunted and frowned from the nasty film of morning mouth coating his tongue. Smacking his lips, he sighed and yanked the cover off his head and glanced menacingly at the door.
He sat up and rubbed the crusty sleep out of the corner of his eyes with the palms of his hands. Breaking out into a big smile, he began rubbing his knees and reached under the plastic mattress for his crumbled pack of Kools. After taking his time lighting up, he took an extra long toke and started waving Skeet away from the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m up, man. Why dontcha go get that fat butt boy of yours up.” He stretched and yawned. “I’ll be with ya’ll in a few.”
Skeet rapped his gnarled knuckles on the pane one last time. “About time, nigga; I’ll be out at the basketball court. And don’t have me out there all morning waiting on your jive ass, either.” He gave him a staunch salute before disappearing.
“Yeah, yeah.” Sparkle pressed his fist to his mouth and stifled a yawn. He stood to stretch his five-foot-ten, coffee-brown frame, twisted the kinks out of his neck and staggered to the wash basin to handle his hygiene.
With Skeet’s footsteps fading, his thoughts flowed to the image of a sweet, young filly hunching up under him, giving up husky sighs and pussy aroma from his hard grinding fuck. He smiled at his dull image in the metal mirror and splashed cold water on his face. He brushed his teeth, picked out his mini fro and started putting on his prison whites for the last time.
Several minutes later, he checked the creases in his pants as he exited his room. He strolled down the catwalk toward the winding stairs. As he reached the steps he heard an all-too-familiar voice grumbling in a country drawl.
He immediately felt that old tingling of hatred run up and down his spine. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to ignore it, so he slowly angled his head sideways to acknowledge the voice.
Old “Chew Tobacco” Jones was grinning at him, displaying a row of brown, crooked teeth. The big burly country hick, his distinctively foul body odor disturbing the air, placed a swollen hand on the railing. He tapped his ever-present nightstick along the wall as he approached in a rolling gait.
In a skunky wisp of air, he said, “Damn, boy, you trying to ignore me or sumthang?” He stepped a few feet closer before continuing with a nasty sneer. “You best to keep yaself oudda trouble now.”
Sparkle pinched his nose and spoke, holding his breath between clenched teeth. “What’s up, Stank Breath Chew Tobacco?”
The CO’s face turned beet red as he frowned and growled, “Whaddafuck you say, nigga boy?”
Sparkle pinned him with cold-killer eyes and blasted his funky ass. “Cracker-ass, redneck bitch, who gave your dumb hillbilly ass permission to speak to me?” He paused and rubbed his nose again, letting it sink in. “Get the fuck outta my face.” He turned away to stifle the laugh that was boiling up from his gut. A look of total shock spread across Jones’s face.
A red-faced, neck-throbbing Jones grabbed his throat as if he were about to choke on his wad. His neck got puffy red as he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He shifted his head back and forth, checking to see if anybody was watching this boy belittling him. Then he gritted, showing all of his tobacco-stained brownish teeth. He pulled back his nightstick to strike before Sparkle leaned in closer to him and hissed, “Yeah, stanky muthafucka, do it and let’s go see the magistrate.”
The hillbilly opened his mouth again to speak but Sparkle cut him off. “Yeah, bastard, I said it. I’m a free man today and if you hit me with that damn thing, your ass is gonna do some time. Yep, some muthafuckin’ time in here with these killa niggas that you been fucking over all these years.”
With the stick frozen in midair, he squi
nted his hate-filled eyes, heaved and lowered the stick. “You black bastard, you better hope that your sorry ass don’t ever come back this here way again. Your ass will be mine.”
“Bitch-ass cracker, your funky ass better pray that I never see your ugly mug on the other side of these fences.” Sparkle’s deadly look sent a shiver down the CO’s spine. He backed away with trembling lips.
Sparkle cocked his head to the side and scratched his chin, and then took a deep breath to keep from laughing. Turning abruptly away he started walking down the stairs. He could feel the fire snorting out of Jones’s nose, along with the hate darting from his eyes, burning a hole in his back.
He didn’t give a fuck how Jones felt with all the fucked-up shit he used to do. Brushing the confrontation out of his mind, Sparkle continued out the door. Immediately, he spotted his boy Skeet and his kid Lil’ Jack in an animated conversation. They were seated on a bench beside the basketball court. As he strolled toward them, they broke out in wide smiles.
Skeet nodded toward the sidewalk and the pair walked up ahead of him. Sparkle got dap and backslaps from dudes congratulating him for surviving his bit and wishing him well on his return to the bricks. He eventually passed all of the well-wishers and walked between Skeet and Lil’ Jack, placing an arm around each of their shoulders.
Lil’ Jack smiled up at him and said in a squeaky voice, “Damn, big bro, you finally gonna get the chance to be a hood star again, huh?”
Sparkle blinked several times as he returned the smile. He’d always been amazed at how much Jack smiled like a girl. Hell, he was shaped like one, too. He used to joke with him all the time about him being a mistake of nature. For a moment Sparkle thought of what a helluva pimp Jack would make on the ho stroll on Auburn Avenue. He’d personally pumped enough game into his head to pull it off, too. A lot of dudes around the joint didn’t realize how coldhearted the little fella was.
