Tuesday, December 30, 2008


OK, I’m back. Might as well tell you now, ‘cause this part ain’t in the screenplay. The end result of my injuries on the job turned out to be some type of degenerative neuropathy. Things keep shutting down. That’s what’s going to kill me. But the pain…fuck. It’s like someone injects my veins with gasoline, pours the rest over my body, and then sets it all on fire. Like I’m burning to death on the inside and outside. And writing this shit…it’s like I relive it all. Oh well…where the fuck were we, anyway?

B.D takes me back to his set. Introduces me. Everyone is suspicious of this half-breed until B.D. tells them how I smoked those two Bloods. Instant credibility. Pretty soon, I’m making buys with B.D. This is some elaborate set up they’ve got going. Too elaborate for a bunch of low level Crip gangbangers.

We rendezvous with a big semi truck late at night. Driver pops the back open for us. We unload a shit load of cartons. Factory stamped from a major pharmaceutical company. The driver then either has us rough him up, or does it to himself to make the “hijacking” look legit. We take the cartons to a house in South Central. It’s got a bomb shelter from back in the fifties built underneath. Crack open the boxes. Liquid cocaine. Hospital grade. There’s a lab set up to turn it into crack. I find out that the pharmaceutical company is being paid by the government to let their shipments get jacked, and collecting the insurance money besides. Seems the Feds, or whoever has that much juice, wants to make sure that crack becomes an epidemic in the inner cities. Pretty fucked up.

Time to report to my Captain. I go back to my piece of shit apartment in the hood. Bump into Shawna on my way out. She’s a young, single mother. Beautiful. I started falling for her the first time I saw her. I help her tuck her little boy in bed. Leave. I always take the bus. It’s hard for anyone to tail you that way. The bus makes lots of stops. You sit in the back, you can tell if someone’s on your ass. Plus, you make enough transfers, they really can’t hide. Anyway, I hook up with the captain. Tell him what’s going down…and about the two Bloods I killed. He tells me not to worry. It’s all covered. In the line of duty, blah, blah, blah…that’s when I should’ve known something was messed up with him. He tells me to keep up the great work and sends me home.

I take the bus to Orange County Airport. I’ve kept my ride in the long term lot there…again so no one can follow me. Thought I was smart. Turns out, I wasn’t smart enough, but we’ll get to that soon. I drive home. It’s after midnight. I’ve been gone this first time for over a week. The soon to be ex-wife doesn’t know I’m a cop. Sure as shit doesn’t know I’m an undercover cop with a $250,000 policy that doubles if I die in the line of duty. Bitch would’ve dropped a dime on me in a heartbeat for that kind of cash. She thinks I’m a traveling salesman now, which suits her just fine. Gives her the freedom to come and go as she pleases.

I walk in the door, and the place is a mess. Not a clean dish or glass in the house. Bugs everywhere. Half empty take out food containers on the table, the counters, and spilling out of the trash. I go through the apartment. Pissed. She’s not there. My little girl Ruby, who’s five, isn’t in her room. I start to panic. I go into my youngest daughter’s room. Rene is almost three. Still in a crib. Ruby has pulled her step-stool up to the bars and climbed in to sleep with her little sister. I go out and clean the place up.

I’ve just finished and lit a smoke when the bitch comes in the door. 4:30 in the morning. She was beautiful once, but she’s not aging well. The booze and drugs are already catching up with her. I’m about to smack the shit out of her when Ruby comes in for a glass of water. I get it and send her back to bed. Decide to just let the bitch know not to do it again, and leave it at that. That’s when things go south.

She flips me shit. Lets me know she’s going to do whatever she wants, and if that hurts or even kills them, well…too fucking bad. I snap. It’s like I’m in that alley again. Everything goes in slow-mo. I’m on her before she can blink. Pull her head back by her hair. The other hand is on her windpipe. We have our own little come to Jesus meeting. She’s never seen me like this. I can see the fear in her eyes. The smell of it coming off of her gives me a hard-on. She can’t talk. Just nods her head that she understands. I leave. It’s the last time I see her.

That's it for today...only so much I can relive at a time...


Anonymous said...

so every other day you will update this?

Christopher Blake said...

I don't know yet...my web hits have gone up almost 500% since I started the TWO DOGS story...I want to keep my readers happy, but I also want to blog on other things as well...Dexter's season finale, Heroes, House, my conspiracy theories and stories(the things I've actually seen and heard), my Bible Study on Genesis 1:1&2, and my Lakers...
Originaly I was going to do TWO DOGS in instalments once a week, but, like I said, readership went through the roof...I'm open to suggestions from my readers...so, let me know what you think...

Christopher Blake said...

Also, you should subscribe to my blog. On my main page there is a spot to sign up for email notifications. This way you'll never miss a post.
Thanks for your support!


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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...