Sunday, December 28, 2008

TWO DOGS Part 4

I agree to stay undercover. What a dumb fuck.

Shawna and I had been seeing a lot of each other. I’d fallen in love with her. She has no idea about me being a cop…or a Crip. She and her little boy Tony, along with my little girls and my folks, are the only things keeping me sane…and that’s hanging by a thread. No one knows what I’m doing. Except my Captain. Biggest mistake of my life.

B.D. takes me for a ride. Won’t tell me where we’re going. Wind up at another house with a bomb shelter. Bigger than ours. Bunch of naked women with surgical masks processing liquid coke into crack. There’s a man walking through, supervising…and grabbing some ass. I recognize him. Well known black preacher and civil rights activist. Just then, some Bloods come in. I pull my gat. Figure they’re after me. They start to pull theirs. The “Reverend” calms the whole thing down. Tells us we’re all part of the BAF-Black African Family. No more Crips or Bloods down there. One group. Leads me and B.D. off upstairs. Tries to feed me this line of shit about how the BAF is there to “…free all people of color from the dominant power structure…”. Wants to know what I think. He laughs when I tell him it sounds like a crock of shit. Tells me I’m right. Says me and B.D. are the only one’s smart enough to figure it out. Wants me, ‘cause I can pass for white, to open the crack operations in the more upscale white areas. Gives me a Bible. It’s hollowed out starting at the 23rd Psalm…”The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…”. Filled with hundred dollar bills. Got to give him credit…he’s got his own style.

B.D. and I are driving back. Quiet. Then he starts asking questions.

“What'd you think?”

“About what?”

“The Rev'rund...all of it.”

“You?”

“I mean...you buy all that one set shit?”

“You buy it?”
“Used to...now...all them cluckheads somebody's mother...sister... somethin'...if we beatin the system, how come it's still niggers killin' niggers?...that shit ain' right man...niggers killin' niggers, we ain' beatin' shit.”

Like I told you…B.D. was my boi. B. D. stood for Brain Damage. They called him that because of all the Sherm he smoked when he was a youngster coming up. It didn’t wind up fuckin’ with him though. He was one of the smartest, best men I ever knew. God, I miss him.

It was time to check in with the Captain again. I told him all about the meeting with the Rev. How the Rev had told me he had been dicking the middle man. How with my help, he could double-dick him. Showed the Captain the hollowed out Bible with the money. He was pissed. Kept muttering about the double-dicking as he stormed out. God, was I blind.

B.D. picked me up later. Started diving. Heading out toward San Berdoo. Won’t tell me why. We pull up to this nice little house out there in a real nice neighborhood. Go inside. B.D.’s lady and two little girls…just like mine. We hang out for a few hours while he plays with his girls. I watch them while he and his lady go off fro some private time. We wait till dark to leave. Quiet on the ride back. Finally, I’ve got to ask.

“You told everybody she took'em...went back east.”

“What the fuck would you do, you had family huh? You leave'm in the hood? Ain' jus' drive-bys anymo'...they snatchin' people, hold'm fo', ransom...it's fuckin' crazy.”

“Yeah...but lyin' to yo' own set...”

“I known them mothuhfuckers all my life...but they ain' jus' dealin'...they doin' the shit, all of'm...'cept me...an' you...when you got shorties its dif'runt, you gotta be mo' careful... niggers know you be stackin', nobody safe.”

“Why you tellin' me all this shit?”
“I been thinkin'...what if somethin' happens, ya know...who'd take care o'...I gotta trus' somebody...you m'boi, Deuce...shit, you saved my...”

“Hey...”

“What?”

“Fuck you.”

“...mothuhfucker...be the best you ever had.”

If you've ever lived in LA you know how the Santa Ana winds whip up and drive the brush fires...that's what the pain is doing to me right now...driving the fire through me like Santa Anas...gotta stop for the night...take my pills...and maybe some Patron...

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

thank you! keep them coming...

abaddon911 said...

I second that! Thank you for sharing this dark view of a life I was fortunate enough to be ignorant of. How has autobiographical fiction been treating you?

Christopher Blake said...

Kai exousin eph auton Basilia, ton aggelon tes abussou onoma auto EBruisti Abaddon, kai en te Ellenike onoma exei Apolluon...
Reveletion 9:11
Sorry...I don't have Koine Greek font software...

So, my friend...are you the King of the Abyss? A follower of eschatology? It would be interesting to hear your take on the passage...

I like the fact that although the word "abussou" has the meaning of bottomless, the creatures in Revelation 9 come from the pit/well, or deepest place in the bottomlessness...

By the way...are you seconding the Santa Anas? The pills? The Patron?
Or, as I do...all of the above?

Would that we could all be ignorant of the evil in men's souls...and, as I have posted before...



Any resemblance to persons living or dead, is of course purely unintended...

I appreciate your readership...

abaddon911 said...

"I second that!" was in reference to the anonymous comment thanking you and asking for your continued service.
I am by no means the King of the Abyss; I have always been interested in that passage - the whole book, really.
I should not be surprised at how quickly you recognized the meaning of my screen name, but I confess that I was. I have been taught never to underestimate others but apparently along with many lessons that should have been learned the first hundred times, I find I am still exercising bad habits.
Eschatology has also been of great interest to me as is Theology in general, although it has been a search liken to the Holy Grail itself to find material that does not model the same monotonous material used to train strapping young men in seminary who are on the verge of changing the world one super church at a time. I am not so cynical, mind you; I am just in rare form today. That or when showing only a glimpse of myself to others I wish to suggest that the glimpse is not the entire painting but a brush stroke. Even if the painting itself is blurred.
As far as patron goes, it would not be out of character for me to second that! I prefer silver but under the right circumstances, alcohol is alcohol.

Christopher Blake said...

Where to begin...

First, thank you, not only for your insightful comments, but for becoming an official "follower" of the blog...it means a lot...

The "king of the Abyss" comment was my feeble attempt at witty reparte...very feeble...

I resisted all attempts by those who tried to talk me into going to seminary over the years...goose-stepping is not my forte...I would appreciate your take on my Bible study blogs...the first few give my background, and the first study is on Genesis 1: 1-2...not finished with it yet...

The search for truth is the Holy Grail, at least as far as I'm concerned...and it appears that you are a serious seeker...striving your best to find it...and despite what others may have told you in the past, I have no doubt that you will find it...

Some people can be read by the mearest thread...or brush-stroke...others, like yourself, cannot truly be known until the Master is done with the work...He takes his time...but no suggestions...trust me, I've tried...that's when I hear Him laugh the loudest...

If learning a lesson within the first thousand times were a requirement of living...I would have been dead long, long ago...

Thank you again...tell your friends...I need all the help I can get...

By the way...Patron Silver is also called joven...young...and it's what I drink...maybe we can toss back a few someday...

abaddon911 said...

what you call "a feeble attempt at reparte" on your behalf is more witty than the majority strenuous effort. You are good, my friend.
I can understand both why you were encouraged to go to seminary and your reasons (to the degree at which you explained) why you decided against it. Still, I find great pleasure in playing out in my head the image of you in seminary. The instructors would have had their work cut out for them! I wonder which professor would have drawn the short straw of fate in making the same mistake that I did in underestimating you. Based on my own conversations with (not ALL, but many) seminary professors, they do not gracefully accept opinions that are not the product of their own brain. Accepting defeat would be an act of even greater blasphemy to their moral code that doing so is avoided at any cost. All that to say, it would have been enthralling to witness an inevitable debate between you as a student and a fated professor who unknowingly laid the platform to his own public execution by crossing and underestimating you.
please understand that I do not mean to say that you would lord your knowledge over others or provoke a fight just because. Defending the truth would mostly likely be enough to get you in the thick of one.

Christopher Blake said...

Sadly, when I was younger, I would have provoked the fight...just to humiliate them...not something that makes me very proud to remember...but true...I was an arrogant prick...

My experiences on the job taught scriptual lessons to me in a much more practical context...one example I like to use is:

You show up for a class"A" inspection...dress uniform required...you show up in pink bunny slippers...so does evryone in your platoon...as your DI goes down the rows, people are dropping like flies doing push-ups...He comes to you...

What's with the pink bunny slippers?

My platoon Sgt said we were supposed to were them...

That's why he's doing fifty more push-ups than everyone else...now, did you get a manual?

Sir, yes Sir

Turn to page 104...what does it say?

Only shined black shoes are to be worn at class"A" formations...but the class SGT said there was an exception...

Turn to page 572...what does it say there?

Under NO circumstances are you to EVER WEAR PINK BUNNY SLIPPERS. NO EXCEPTIONS. EVER!!!

That's what I thought...you had a manual...you were told to read it...you are held responsible for it...now, drop and give me fifty...

A rather obvious point, I know...but...when I stand at the judgement seat of Christ, I'm not worried about being quizzed on Hyper-Calvinism...Luther's opinions...Augutine's commentaries...or the sermons of various Pastors...just what I did with what I was given...

One of the things I learned from starting college classes at twelve...although everyone says they like independent thinkers...they'll crucify you if so much as your shadow touches the outside edge of the box...

To garaduate from seminary, I would have been forced to lie about God's word...I have no problem with lying, in general...God knows I've done it enough...but I won't about that...

The next part on Genesis 1: 1-2 will be coming soon...

abaddon911 said...

an excellent point. It is a rarity that you, at such an early age, had that kind of self awareness and conviction. It is a good reminder and worthy of our attention (especially mine) to not only test what is said but also to own it! After all, although some teachers / pastors may have millstones around their necks (worse than that - they would be better off that way) we all will be accountable.

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Christopher Blake is a loving husband...devoted father...minister...crippled ex-cop...screenwriter...novelist...actor...and more than a little rough around the edges...