A Hood Nigga's Blues

CHAPTER ONE-2

“Don’t move, don’t chu f*****g budge!” he punched Apocalypse in the back of his head repeatedly. Breathing hard, he looked around and saw that the streets were scarcely crowded. The people that were around were watching from a far and didn’t pose any threat to him. Seeing that he didn’t have anything to worry about, he kicked Apocalypse legs apart roughly and gripped the chain of the handcuffs tightly, as he patted down the young man’s waistline. His forehead creased when he felt something hard. Curiosity came across the cop’s face as he pulled out whatever it was on the youth’s waist and discovered that it was a gun that he had on him. “Well, look here, let’s see what else you’re hiding,” he smacked the handgun down on the hood of his vehicle. He then patted down both of Apocalypse’s pockets, feeling small lumps on his left pocket. Sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth busily, the cop fished around inside of the youth’s pocket until he’d gotten what he’d felt earlier. Pulling his clenched fist out of the young man’s pocket, he held it before his eyes and revealed eight off white crack rocks. He smacked the crack rocks down beside the firearm he’d taken off of Apocalypse. “That right there, my friend, is the illegal possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute.

The firearm and the crack guarantees your black ass a trip to lockup.”

“Man, f**k you, cuz, that s**t ain’t mine, nigga! You planted that s**t on me!” Apocalypse struggled to get loose from his captor, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

Angry, the cop started punching him in the back of his head and back violently. It appeared as if the cop’s face tinted redder and the vein at the center of his forehead bulged the more he punched on Apocalypse. When the cop drew his fist back to punch him again, he had white s**t at the corners of his mouth and he was breathing huskily. His nostrils were flaring and his hair looked wild from assaulting his suspect.

“Shut up, shut your goddamn mouth!” He punched Apocalypse in the back of the head and back, then kicked him. Apocalypse hollered out in pain and tried to break free, but he was under the restraint of the handcuffs and the cop wasn’t letting him get away.

“Freeze, cuz!” a youthful voice bellowed from the left side of the cop, which froze his fist in mid swing. Hair wild, eyes stretched wide open and nostrils swelling, he slowly looked to his left. It was there that he found Marquan. He had a blue bandana over the lower half of his face and his eyes threatened murder. So did the gun he had pointed at the cop’s face.

“You must have lost your goddamn mind pointing that gun at me, boy.” He mad dogged Marquan as he slowly inched his hand toward his holstered weapon.

“You bring yo’ hand any closer to that banga on yo’ waist and you gone be the one losing you mind out here…pig!” Marquan warned as he stepped off the curb and picked up the gun that the cop had taken off of Apocalypse. Now that he had two bangas, Marquan pointed them both at the cop. “Take out cho handcuff key and set my nigga free.”

“You got me f****d up, I ain’t doing s**t!” the cop said, still inching his hand towards the holstered gun on his waistline. When he said this, Apocalypse rose from off the hood of the police car and walked over to Marquan, standing beside him, hands still cuffed behind his back.

“Is that right?” Marquan glared at him and squared his jaws, as a vein pulsated at his temple.

“That’s right…boy!” the cop shot back and stared Marquan down as his hand moved closer to the gun on his hip. He licked his thin, pink lips and never broke his glare on Marquan. He was challenging the young man, trying to call his bluff.

“I told yo’ ass to keep yo’ hand away from that banga, don’t be hardheaded now.” He tilted his head to the side as he warned him.

Apocalypse looked from Marquan with his gun pointed at the cop and the expression on the cop’s face. He then looked over his shoulder and saw all of the people that were outside watching them. Although there weren’t many of them, one person was enough to finger them in a line up.

“Be easy, loc,” Apocalypse warned him. “It’s a couple of eyes out here; you’ll never beat this case.”

“f**k them eyes…” Marquan stated without even taking his eyes off of the cop. As soon as he saw the cop about to draw his gun, he pulled the trigger of his gun. The gun jerked violently as it fired off a shot. The bullet skinned the cop’s cheeks and he dropped his gun. The gun hit the sidewalk as soon as he grabbed the area of his face where the bullet had skinned him. When he did this, Marquan walked over to him and let off another shot by his ear. The sound of the gunshot ranging out caused the cop’s eyes to stretch wide open and he smacked his hand over his ear. The shot being let off near his ear set off an eerie siren that stung his eardrum like a hot safety pin. The cop dropped to his knees as he held his ringing ear, squeezing his eyelids shut and gritting his teeth. His face was even redder now, and veins were bulging all over his face.

Swiftly, Marquan turned to Apocalypse and tucked one of the guns at the front of his Dickie’s. He then held the handcuff chain away from his homeboy’s back and pressed the barrel of his gun against it, pulling the trigger. A third shot rang out and a spark flew, as the chain snapped loose. Apocalypse brought his wrists back around to him and studied the area on the chain that the bullet had severed.

“Come on; let’s get the f**k outta here!” Marquan took off running. Once Apocalypse snatched the crack rocks off the hood of the car, he hauled ass behind his homeboy.

“Haa! Haa! Haa!Haa! Haa! Haa!”Marquan ran as fast as he could, hearing police cars heading in their direction. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Apocalypse on his heels. “Come on, cuz, catch up!” he motioned to him with the gun he held in his hand.

“Haa! Haa! Haa! Haa! Haa! Haa!” Apocalypse ran as fast and as hard as he could. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the cop still on his knees, holding his ear.

Marquan and Apocalypse ran into someone’s yard with their eyes set on a gate that led into the backyard. Marquan tucked his gun and leaped upon the gate along with his comrade. Together, they climbed over the gate and ran across the yards of three more houses before eventually taking refuge inside of a garage. They sat at the corner of the garage breathing heavily, with their chest rising and falling rapidly. Their faces were hot and sticky with sweat but they were smiling from the adrenaline rush, happy that they weren’t captured.

“Here you go, cuz.” Marquan passed Apocalypse his gun back. Apocalypse thanked him and dapped him up.

“G lookin’ out, but, man, that was some wild cowboy type of s**t. I neva expected that to happen.”

“Man, these niggaz quick to get at niggaz from the other side out here, but nobody got the balls to bring it to Johnny. See what I’m saying? The way I see it, them mothafuckaz should be able to get served for coming at the homies too. You feel me, cuz?”

“Hell yeah. But look, them mothafuckaz gone be hot ‘bout that stunt you pulled, we oughta just lay low here to nightfall then move out.”

“Good idea.”

Apocalypse placed his back against the wall beside Marquan. They chopped it up about hood politics and the mutual people that they knew. Although they were from the same gang they never kicked it like that. They only said ‘What up?’ to one another in passing. But after that day things would change. They would become the best of friends, and it would be rare to see one without the other.

It wasn’t long before a partnership was formed between Marquan and Apocalypse. They took the steps to build their own empire. Things really took off for them once Apocalypse came across a Mexican plug that fronted him a few extra bricks on consignment. Instead of Marquan helping him move the s**t, he became his enforcer in the streets. He went to pick up the bags when it was time to break bread and he was going to see niggaz that weren’t trying to pay them. Rarely did the young nigga have to get his hands dirty though. Mothafuckaz in the streets knew about his reputation as a wig splitter and they didn’t want any problems. It was clear why his big home, 187, had made him his little homie, Lil’ 187. He was about his murder game, and anybody that violated, or didn’t bow down to his gangsta was getting a cold case of lead poisoning. Straight up!

“Daddyyyyy!” a child’s voice rung from Marquan’s and Apocalypse’s left. When they looked they found a five year old, Antonio, running in their direction excitedly. Bringing up his rear was a dark caramel, complexioned young woman. She was thick in all of the right places, and had long, wavy hair that she had braided into a ponytail. She was wearing doorknockers, a camouflage tank top and Daisy Dukes that showed off plenty of her meaty thighs. She had a Rolex chain around her neck and a matching watch on her wrist. The diamond engagement ring on her finger reflected a small rainbow from the sunlight. The tattoos on her breast and ankle gave her crazy ghetto s*x appeal. The tattoo on her left breast read, Marquan, while the one on her ankle was of her son with him, Antonio.

“Heyyyy, baby boy,” Marquan rose to his feet and scooped up his son. The little dude’s long hair was styled into box braids that hung around his face. “I see you and yo’ momma finally made it.”

“Yep. We were in traffic. You shoulda seen it, daddy. Momma was screaming and cursing this man out for almost hittin’ us. When the man got outta his car, momma pulled out her lil’ gun and…”

“Ant, you talk too much, yo’ daddy don’t wanna be hearin’ that mess.” Adele interjected.

“Yes, I do. Come here,” Marquan pulled her close and rested his muscular arm at her back while her hands held on to both of his biceps. “Now, you know better than to be pulling guns out on fools in front of our son. Whatever happened out there couldn’t have been that serious for you to draw heat.” He scolded her like a father. He wasn’t harsh in his delivery though, his tone was more so of I’m disappointed in your behavior if anything.

“The f**k it wasn’t, mothafucka callin’ me all kinds of hoes and bitches in front of my prince. Nunh unh, I ain’t ‘bout to let that s**t ride.” Adele caught a bad ass attitude thinking about the driver that had cut her off and damn near made her crash.

“I feel you, boo, but next time handle that s**t with a lil’ bit mo’ finesse than that. For real, Adele, we tryna raise our prince better than that. You feel what I’m saying, ma?”

Adele listened to him talk while she traced his muscular arm with her French tip nail, admiring all of that sexiness his thug ass possessed. If it wasn’t for them being at the park, she’d jump his bones that minute, right there in front of everybody. She didn’t give a f**k, but she was sure he did.

See, Marquan wouldn’t want to get it cracking in front of all of those people. The last thing he wanted to do was to play his son’s mother out by making her look like some sort of jump-off in front of an audience. This was because he looked at her as much more than a piece of ass. To him, the woman that had bared his child was his queen, and should be treated as such, regardless of her past.

The moment Adele had told him that she was carrying his seed changed the way he looked at her forever.

“Marquan’s eyebrows arched as he felt that Adele wasn’t paying him any mind, he gave her a quick shake at her waist as he stared into her eyes.

“Aye, you hear me talking to you?” He waited on her response.

“Yes, baby, I heard you. I promise it won’t happen again, okay?” she stared into his eyes as she traced his full lips with her fingernail, wearing a smirk on her lips.

“Okay, baby, gemme kiss.” He asked in a soft, masculine voice.

“K.” she responded and kissed him slow and sensually. Not long after, they were kissing deep and passionately, as they held the sides of one another’s faces.

“Aaaaggaggggh!”

“Aaaaggaggggh!”

Marquan and Adele’s head whipped around in the direction that they heard the gagging. They found Apocalypse and Antonio poking their fingers in and out of their mouths, suggesting that their making-out made them want to vomit. Seeing this, the loved birds laughed and smiled.

“Say, bruh, you tryna turn my lil’ one into a hater like yo’ ass?” Marquan stated jovially as he threw the oven mitts at Apocalypse. Apocalypse moved aside as he smacked the oven mitts down to the ground.

“Hahahahaha, nah, I’m not. I’m just tryna keep my lil’ nigga from travelin’ down the road of a simp.” Apocalypse laughed as he threw his arm around his godson’s shoulders and hugged him up against the side of him.

Whatever, fool, let’s see how you act once you done cuffed you a real one.” he replied as Adele rested the side of her face against his chest and hugged him around his waist lovingly.

“Nevaaaa, I’m too quick on my toes to get caught up with these hoes.” Apocalypse said in the same melody as Snoop Dogg as he done a little dance on his feet. His actions caused Marquan and Adele to bust up laughing. “’Sup, nephew? Lemme see if you rememba what I showed you what to do with them hands.” He turned to Antonio and threw up his dukes. The little dude threw up his dukes too, and they playfully fought one another while the boy’s parents looked on.

“Get ‘em, baby, whip his ass!” Adele called out to her son, who seemed to be getting the best of his godfather.

That’s right, son, stay on ‘em!” Marquan threw punches the way his son was throwing them. It appeared as if he was controlling the boy. You know, like a puppet master?

Antonio threw a punch that laid Apocalypse flat out on the grass. He lay there pretending to be knocked out cold as Marquan stood over him counting down along with Adele

“Eight, nine, ten…It’s over. Antonio ‘Quick Hands’ Ludlow is now the reigning heavy weight champion of the world,” Adele and Marquan held up either arms of their son. The boy smiled from ear to ear and showcased his missing front tooth.