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    Ghanport's Finest
    Ghanport's Finest
    Ghanport's Finest
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    Ghanport's Finest

    By Khali Raymond

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    About this ebook

    Ghanport, The Party State. A place where you could become the life of the party or at the center of crippling desperation. Ghanport has bustling commerce, booming industry and a strong media presence. Beneath that lies tremendous struggles with crime, poverty, prostitution and federal corruption. From developed cities to dingy ghettos, Ghanport isn’t for the average tourist. South of the state lies Ghanport City, one of the most populous cities in the United Landmasses and the world. As you read through Ghanport's Finest, a hustler, a young man and a vicious psychopath will give their all as they traverse across the entire state pulling risky jobs for notorious fugitives, mob bosses and even the government at the cost of their own freedom and lives to start a syndicate and take the entire world by storm.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKhali Raymond
    Release dateJun 22, 2016
    ISBN9781311193223
    Ghanport's Finest
    Author

    Khali Raymond

    Khali Raymond is an exceptional individual who had published a lot of work at a very young age. His serious and realistic writing style is just the icing on the cake when you’re indulging into him. Not only he’s into writing, but he has a muse for music and a whole lot of other things as well. Khali Raymond was born on December 22, 1998 in Newark, New Jersey. Ever since then, Khali has been working at refining his craft in the writing field.Learning how to read at the age of two, there were bright things ahead for this wise man. After going through a lot of life-changing experiences throughout his years, it’s inevitable that he’s doing this. As Khali writes book after book at a rapid rate, you can’t help but wonder how he does it. His continuous efforts to put out riveting and mind capturing work arouses a lot of people’s interest. People are curious as to what goes on in the head of this reclusive genius.Khali’s love for his city and community is extremely strong. That alone is a primary influence for his work. His continued humbleness and strong work ethic will carry him into places that the average person can dream of reaching. A lot of mystery shrouds this genius author, but Khali is more than genius. As he makes a vow to write until he dies, the good work will keep coming your way.When you do happen to read Khali’s work, the themes and vocabulary he uses is extremely strong and provocative. You will feel drawn into the power of his sword, and that sword is his pen. Be sure to follow Khali on all social media platforms you can find him on so you can see what he does next.

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      Book preview

      Ghanport's Finest - Khali Raymond

      Copyright

      Ghanport’s Finest

      Khali Raymond

      No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

      This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Suggestive and graphic material is presented in this novel. Discretion is advised.

      Copyright ©2016-2020 YTER/x Surreal Dreamz Inc. All rights reserved.

      ISBN (eBook): 9781311193223

      Seventh Edition, 2020

      Before we find world peace, we gotta find peace in the war on the streets.

      -Tupac Shakur

      Ghanport City and Ghanport State

      What People Are Saying About Ghanport

      "Welcome to Ghanport, the Party State. Where else in the world can you go to the largest outdoor strip club EVER… where the strippers are transgenders? Where else can you go to on the corners of the city to get charred barbecue that the birds shat on? Where else can you go to that the party never stops at?

      That place exists, and it is Ghanport. From the magnificence of the Grand Abardam Mountains to the bustle of Ghanport City, there is plenty of fun for everyone in a state populated with 35.7 million people. There are plenty of people to meet, things to see and do in the State of Ghanport.-Official Tourist Guide

      Ghanport is one of the most mundane places that I have ever visited. It was ridiculous. I would never want to visit a place like this again.-Minoru Otaku, New York Times

      "If you’re in Ghanport, bring a weapon and a bulletproof vest. It isn’t really suitable for tourists."-Heidi Ramirez, The Star-Ledger

      I don’t see why everyone is talking bad about Ghanport. I’ve been to some pretty terrible places, but this is all right.-Perez Hilton, PerezHilton.com

      If you’re ever in Ghanport, stay away from Ghanport Island. I happened to catch the ferry over there to see the magnificent Statue of Ghanport, and I was mistaken. It isn’t really magnificent. Not when the statue is jerking its cock at you.-Barret Milson of the Huffington Post

      I lived in Ghanport for all my life, growing up in the New Wood area of Leary.-Resident of Ghanport

      I’ve had the pleasure of working as a stockbroker in Ghanport for over 25 years, and it isn’t a bad place. I love it. I have no problem working here for another 25, if that’s okay. Jim Nordstrom, Stockbroker at the Ghanport City Index

      "We have been providing Ghanport City with quality liquors for over fifty years at twenty various locations across the city and five within Ghanport State.

      It has been a pleasure to run our operations here. Our customers are mainly middle-aged dads and worn out prostitutes so they can wallow in their own pits of sorrow.-Brown’s Liquors Ghanport

      Ghanport is the most prejudiced place in the entire world. I thought America was horrible, but Ghanport is even worse. I went to sit down in a nightclub, the bartender says a racist joke and I couldn’t even get a private dance because I was black. Is the entire United Landmasses this way?-Mato Undegdga, Libyan Nationalist

      Ghanport is the perfect place to get ya’ party on, y’know but um… these some crazy muhfuckers in this state, man.-Ginny P, Up-and-coming rapper

      Key Areas of Ghanport

      "Below are the key areas of the state that you need to know about. We’ve tried our best to insert what we could.

      Cities (pop. 50,000-10 million)

      Ghanport City (Warner, Porter, Trussman, Winfrey, Leary, Hillman, Larkin, Post Island)

      Ruiz

      Atacus

      Vato Creek City

      Grandodopolis

      Fogazzi

      Abardanden

      Pusstant

      Vizarda

      Stanforton

      Kalos

      Abascas

      Barrazza News

      Las Barrazzas

      Lazuly

      Vaniella

      Raywood

      Colony City

      Venis City

      Davenport

      Towns (pop. 1,000-40,000)

      Strait

      Benjamin

      Grand Square

      Lamarton

      Meggton

      Elysum

      Najran

      Battery Landfills

      Emelly Bay

      Muratile Village

      Senoue Marshlands

      Fort Jaden

      Ghanport State Penitentiary

      Fort Mackle

      Kayspeke

      Natural Attractions

      Ghanport Chaparral

      Cheung Hills

      Pulaski Canyon

      Mount Javos

      Makabuto Forest

      Bennett Wind Farms

      Marcelias Dam

      Bushpatch Forest

      Lice Hills

      Jaden Mountains

      Soto Forest

      Muratile Coast

      Senoue Canyon

      Raymond Hills

      Abardam Phosphorus Wilderness

      Grand Abardam Mountains

      New World Highlands

      Mount Pryor

      Barrazza Desert

      Mount Venis

      Macklegem Bay

      Venis State Wilderness

      Drylands of Ghanport

      Major Waters/Oceans

      Atlantic Ocean

      Ghanport Bay

      Santos Bend

      Highland Bed

      Ghanport Sea of Republic

      Pryor Gulf

      Designated by Ghanport’s Board of Geography and Landscape

      Nicholas’s Story

      Nicholas.

      What comes to mind whenever you hear the name, Nicholas? What is your opinion on a guy named Nicholas?

      You just think he’s some spoiled rich white kid with parents who gives him whatever the fuck he wants. Guess what?

      Ya’ll wrong as fuck. It’s totally the opposite.

      My mom is in prison. She’ll never see the streets of Ghanport ever again. My siblings went off to establish better lives for themselves, meanwhile… I was like glue.

      They left me out to dry.

      I’m holed up in a two-bedroom flat with my dad who could give two fucks about what’s going on. He just wants me to get incarcerated or gunned down, so he can have the place all to himself. I’m twenty-one years old and my only accomplishment in life was graduating from high school.

      I’ve been standing on the same corner, selling the same dime bags that I’ve been toting since my freshman year of high school and I’m still broke as hell.

      Know what? It’s about time I make a come-up in this town. I’m getting sick and tired of this charade. I only got two people out here who really care about me. They’re my homies, Reggie and Ricky. We’ve been tight like shoelaces since we were children.

      In a town where people will stab you in the back, watch you go broke, and leave you for dead—you gotta have a clique to stay with.

      I really don’t have a lot of friends because friendship gets you killed in these streets. I ain’t got much of a choice but to become somebody everyone finna’ fear and I will do whatever I can to achieve just that…

      ENJOY YOUR STAY IN GHANPORT, YOU DESERVE IT.

      Chapter 1- On the Edge

      January 1, 2015

      Sniff… hic… sniff… hiccc… sniff…

      That’s my dad sniffing coke again.

      I would like to introduce myself once more. My name is Nicholas Weinstein. I’m currently twenty-one years of age. Case in point, I’m just another young white male slinging drugs for a living. What?

      It’s thousands of them around here. Just because I be slinging, I don’t be getting high off my own supply. I have a story to tell.

      I went to the party of all parties yesterday, right? There were women with fat asses and big breasts, liquor, people doing craaaaazy drugs, pumping music—damn!

      I was at a friend’s house up in the chaparral getting my groove on. The views of the city from those expensive houses on the hills would lighten up any gathering.

      Now, I’m in the bed with a headache. It must’ve been the hangover that I’ve contracted for acting so savagely last night.

      As I’m stretched across the mattress watching television, my father busts into the room.

      Aaaaannnddd he’s high.

      Boy, didn’t I tell your lanky ass to go take out that damn trash? All the hell you do is go out there and hang with them dumb friends of yours, but you oughta’ clean up this damn room! my dad yelled.

      Shut up! Dammit Dad, you always trippin’ off that coke! So goddamn stupid! I’m leaving, I don’t have any time to hear this bullshit. I gotta go make this paper, I said, putting on some clothes.

      My dad still was bitching at me.

      See, that’s the problem. You’re always going out there to do nothing with your life, look at you! Jason, Jimmy, and John made something of their lives! You! All you care about is these dusty streets! What’s out there that you want so badly? my dad shouted.

      All I care about is the streets? Look whose tryna’ talk! All you care about is drugs! You sniff coke ALL day and night! To answer your question, I want money! That’s what’s out there for me, the motherfucking money! I shouted as I finished dressing myself.

      Sounds pretty materialistic of you, my dad said, licking tidbits of powder off his fingers.

      Whatever. I don’t wanna hear that shit, I said, leaving my room.

      I walked out of the door and headed down the street of Regina. I went up to the abandoned mills where my homies Reggie and Ricky were.

      Reggie is the brawns of the group. This guy doesn’t play any games. If you mess with him, he’ll beat you into next week. I remember one time, right? Some dudes tried to jump us or whatever…

      Course I came through with the hands, but Reggie said leave it to me and started beating these motherfuckers up! He picked up three of them at the same time and tossed them like salad. After that, we just stomped them the fuck out.

      And there is my other guy, Ricky. He’s the brains of the group. This is the only guy I know of in the set who got a college diploma, but whose heart is also in the streets.

      As I approached the abandoned mills, they both greeted me.

      Whaddup, man? Reggie said, patting my back as I shook his hand.

      I’m good, I replied.

      My man Nick! Ricky said, showing me the same gesture.

      I stood, nodding at the drugs. So… this is what we’re selling today, eh?

      I guess so. You have Hodgins comin’ through to buy a pound, you know he gone want one. Then there’s that old Asian lady from the block coming to buy some sticks and you have pretty much the community, Reggie replied.

      Fuck that. We need to expand our operations. There are eight islands in this city, nigga! Eight islands, along with an entire state! And we selling this little shit? We oughta’ be making millions! I protested.

      If we expand, we’ll run into problems doing so, Ricky replied.

      Problems? What fucking problems? Nigga, we’ve been standing on this corner since freshman year of high school, that’s our only problem! I said.

      Well. Competition is heavy, Ricky replied.

      I don’t give a fuck about no damn competition!

      Reggie nodded. Word. I’m with Nicholas. Fuck competition!

      Well… where we gone go then? We need to start somewhere, right? Ricky said.

      We go to Uncle. You know who I’m talking about, I suggested.

      Reggie looked at me confusingly. You talking about JB?

      Yeah, I replied.

      I don’t know, man. Word has it that he got ties with the Mazlonians and shit. Plus, the nigga can’t be trusted. I heard stories about your man. He ain’t nothing but a giant ass snake slithering in the waters, Reggie pointed out.

      "Come on, man! He’s the Uncle of the Streets!

      You talking out of yo’ motherfuckin’ ass, Nicholas. Quit fanaticizing.

      You right, I replied, not knowing where else to turn. Eventually, everyone came to their senses.

      Let’s go and see him then. If the money right, then we shouldn’t have anything to worry about, Ricky replied.

      I’ll take your word for it, Rick. Let’s roll.

      We all walked to the subway station and hopped on the train to Soronoza Flats, the building JB lived up in. As we sat on the train, we talked to another.

      So, what do we do once we see this guy? I asked.

      Who you telling? You the one who wants to see this muhfucker, Reggie stated.

      I guess we just ask him for work, y’know? Ricky pointed out.

      "I’m telling you. JB can’t be trusted, bruh. He a fat ass snake inside of the water, he did motherfuckers dirty. That’s why he holed up inside of that apartment cuz’ he ain’t got nothing better to do. He know people got hits out on him, so his ass never leaves.

      He got his crackhead ass girlfriend giving him news from the outside. We’ll work with him for a while though, for the money I mean. I heard he got bread. But the minute he crosses us, that motherfucker gone be leaking into the Ghanport Bay, Reggie explained.

      "Don’t worry about all that. I just want us to get started out here, it’s like a flower. It comes from the ground, then it sprouts. I ain’t boutta be sitting up here in my thirties, standing on some raggedy ass street corner dat’ I’ve been at since I was fourteen.

      That shit ain’t happening. We gone start a syndicate. More than a syndicate. We’re going to be entrepreneurs. The world will be our oyster and we gotta start from here, I said.

      I made it clear that I wanted to get out of the city and go global. My dreams will not be deferred.

      I like that kinda’ talk, Nic.

      Meeting JB

      The three of us were standing in front of Soronoza Flats where the Uncle of the Streets resides. It was a medium sized project with a brick façade and metal doors that are found in jails. Two dudes were standing around, smoking some weed.

      I looked to my guys.

      All right. Once we go up, I’ll do the talking. You two just listen. I can get this guy to put us on, I said to Ricky and Reggie.

      They got the message. We all walked into the building and made our way up to the fourth floor. JB’s apartment number was 400.

      After making our way to his apartment, I tapped on the door. A dark-skinned woman with dreads opened it.

      Damn, what ya’ll want? the woman asked.

      Where JB at? I asked.

      What’s it to you? It don’t ever be no crackers round here! the lady snapped.

      Who do you think you’re talking to? My skin color ain’t got shit to do with anything!

      Around here, it does. What are you, a cop?

      I was getting frustrated. Bitch, I’m no fucking cop! Let us in before it be some problems. A’ight? I threatened.

      The woman got the message, she knew we meant business.

      A’ight…JB in the back. I don’t want no trouble now. Come on.

      The woman stood aside and rolled her eyes as we walked into the apartment.

      Mothafuckas, she whispered the minute we walked past her.

      Your mama, I replied.

      The apartment was filled with marijuana smoke that made us cough violently.

      The fuck is up with all of this damn smoke? Ricky asked, muttering his sentence.

      This place a damn crack house, Reggie replied.

      After making our way through all the smoke, we eventually arrived into JB’s room. He sat in a chair; sound asleep. All you heard was the television running and loud amounts of snoring.

      There was garbage everywhere—cups of vomit, mucus, and blunt roaches lying around. We were in disgust as we looked around the room.

      This motherfucker nasty as shit, Reggie said.

      I know. He lives like an animal, Ricky replied.

      Who you telling, I said.

      JB woke up from his slumber. He sat there with all his weight gluing him to the seat. Spots of spilled substances were all over his wife beater, along with crumbs of food around his mouth.

      Who ya’ll? JB asked, grumbling heavily.

      I’m Nicholas. This is Reggie, and this is Ricky. We from Breckston, I replied.

      JB nodded and laughed.

      Breckston. I see. Ya’ll sum’ real niggas, eh? JB said.

      I nodded. You damn right. We came here because trappin’ is getting repetitive and we were wondering if you could put us onto some real shit.

      When you say it like that, I mean…you making it clear that you do realize the risks of being out here, right? JB said.

      "Fuck risk, yo.’ I stood on the corner ever since I was in high school and I could be out here running syndicates, sticking up joints, robbing the government for their superweapons, all that shit.

      But no. I ain’t finna’ play it safe by selling dime bags. I wanna move bricks, I wanna ship shit and sell it. I want—

      Let me cut you off there, youngin.’ You making it clear that you’d rather take the risk than to play it safe. You gotta consider ya’ homeboys too. You making it all about you and that’s not how this works.

      I cut in. I hate to interrupt you, but that is not the case at all. I want all my niggas eatin.

      "Now, they call me the Uncle of the Streets! I look out for every person who comes through here. I got ya’ll boys, like…

      "If you really need work-work, I’ll give you some options. You have the safe way of doing things. You can still sling, but you’ll be doing it in a different way. You’ll be doing drop-offs and shit.

      "And you have the other way. You gone be getting into the organized crime bid. There’s money to gain, but the risk is dramatically high. I’ll warn you.

      You might not meet pleasant people along the way. You might go beyond my order, but I’ll still have your back though. What’s ya’ choice? JB explained.

      I thought for a minute and came up with an answer.

      Hard way, I said.

      You heard the man, Reggie said.

      Kool. I’ll see what I can do, if that’s how you want it. I’ll call up a special friend n’ let em’ know about you guys. I’ll need your phone number, youngin.

      I gave JB my phone number.

      Cool, I’ll call you kids up.

      Once we left the apartment, the woman that I cussed out walked into JB’s room with a crack pipe inside of her hand.

      JB was staring at the TV, drinking from a large foam cup. He didn’t even notice her standing there until she decided to call his name.

      JB! she cried out, but he didn’t answer.

      JB! JB!!!

      Again, no answer.

      Jamar Blanc, turn your ass around!

      JB quickly turned around. He sneezed like a bear afterward.

      Whatchu want, Martha? Some mo’ crack?

      Martha nodded. Maybe. I also want something else, if you don’t mind me asking.

      Like what? I ain’t got no K2 on me right now.

      I don’t want that weak ass shit, nigga. I wanna suck yo dick.

      JB looked at Martha puzzlingly. He acted as if he didn’t understand a word that she just said.

      You wanna what?

      Nigga, are you deaf? I want some action! No bullshit… I want to ride yo’ big ass dick!

      JB grinned. Oh, why you ain’t just say so?

      I told you that when I first walked in here, you dumbass motherfucker!

      Nah, nah, nah. You said you wanted to suck my dick, not fuck it. Logic, Martha. Looooogic.

      Martha coughed violently. Fuck… euuugh! Ahuh! Ahuhuh! Ugh… JB… shut yo’ ass up and fuck me.

      JB knew what was next. He spread his legs and began stroking his crotch to get his penis to stand up. Martha saw this and began getting aroused. She fingered her vagina as she watched JB getting his Johnson to stand up.

      That’s right, honey. Let me see that cock stand up, Martha said flirtatiously.

      She began taking off her clothes. Martha cracked a smile. Her two front teeth were missing, along with several more in the back.

      Martha grew moistier watching JB play with his soldier. His wood was in full season watching Martha frolic with her damp kitten. JB groaned as he heard her fingers meet the juiciness.

      Yeah, baby! Make that Mac and Cheese along with them two fried chicken breasts! Make that shit, girl! I’m motherfucking hungry!

      You’re always thinking about some cuisine, JB. I’ll cook for you after we’re done.

      Martha fingered herself faster. She shook the more she did so.

      Give me that dick, Jamar! You playing! Come on! she shouted.

      JB raised his chin. He signaled Martha to come toward him. She ran up to him like a dog, not hesitating to jump into his wide lap.

      Martha grabbed JB’s penis with both hands in order to get it inside of her. She placed her hands onto JB’s chest, bouncing on him.

      Oh yeah! Yeah, girl! Yeeeeeah! JB said as he breathed heavily.

      JB’s dick couldn’t even fit all the way inside of Martha. Once he was halfway inside, she started screaming like she was being murdered.

      It caused her significant discomfort, but she didn’t care. Martha kept riding JB into the sunset rapidly as her juices soaked his cock.

      Yes, daddy! Yesssss! This dick is all mine! ALL FUCKIN’ MINE! she shouted, bouncing on him even more vigorously.

      Oh shit, Martha! Oh shit! You all on my titties! he cried.

      JB leant in to suck Martha’s nipples as she continued to ride him.

      Yes, JB! Yessss! Fuck me from the back, please!!!

      It took a lot for JB to undo himself from his seat. Martha climbed off him and bent over on the desk, exposing her ass. JB grabbed her by the waist and started pouncing her from the back.

      Oh shit! Shhhhhhhhiiiiittt! Fuck!

      Who’s daddy? JB asked Martha.

      You daddy!

      Who is daddy?

      You!

      Say it louder, I ain’t hearing you!

      You! Oh fuck! That dick too damn big, JB!

      JB started pounding Martha more. She was in significant amounts of pain, but he didn’t care. JB was in the moment. He came inside her like a train.

      Even after ejaculating, he still was beating her box up. They were fornicating for the remainder of the hour.

      Meanwhile, the gang and I were walking to the subway station.

      You saw that nigga back there? I ain’t never seen nobody like that. Muhfuckin’ garbage everywhere, tobacco all over the place and shit. That motherfucker live like a pig, Reggie complained.

      Well, forget all that. We got that work, right? I said.

      Course we got work tho.’ But, are you sure about this organized crime shit? I can’t fuck with them cats man, I heard stories. A whole lotta’ stories! I hope you know what you getting into, Nic. Shit comes with hella risk, Ricky stated.

      "Look, this is our opportunity. We’re taking risks every day, bruh. Every day we on that corner, the cops could come and lock our asses up.

      Or better yet, some Vatos could come and light us up. Don’t you see? This is our chance to come up in this town. If we don’t take that chance, we’ll rot in this shithole for eternity.

      January 2, 2015

      I finally got some decent work in this town. I’m sure it will catapult me to success. As I lied in the bed staring at the ceiling, my phone went off. I got a text from Reggie. It said: Pull up. Down at the corner. Finna talk about sumthin.

      Whenever Reggie texts me, you know that something has come up. I’m not going to leave just yet. I need more time to gather myself.

      I got out the bed and walked into the kitchen so I could cook me up some breakfast. Soon as I went into the refrigerator to reach for the eggs, my dad comes in and begins bitching at me.

      And what do you think you’re doing, cunt?

      What the fuck did you just say to me, nigga?

      Oh… Nigga, huh? Who do you think I am? Some bum in the park? One of those trailer hoes from the Bay? One of your black friends? I am your father! Nicholas Raymond Weinstein, who do you think you are calling me that?

      I was enraged by my father’s words. He always uses the I am your father excuse in order to make me feel guilty.

      "First off, you are a father to me? Before Mom went to jail, she was more of a parent than you ever were! She took me places! She bought me the things that I needed and wanted! She was there when nobody else wasn’t!

      All you ever did was abuse drugs and alcohol! You did nothing but raise sand inside of this house! Don’t you even dare try to claim that this apartment is yours because it was Mom’s! If she didn’t get sent to prison, I wouldn’t be in this bullshit anyway! I yelled at the top of my lungs.

      Here you go, using your mother as an excuse! She did what she did and suffered the consequences! You think I ever asked for this? Huh?

      Asked for what, Dad? What???

      "You and your fuckin’ bullshit, Nicholas!!! You’re one of the reasons why I’m sniffing coke! Why can’t you be like the others? They have kids, wives, great jobs. But… YOU! You want to stand on the corner walking round’ here with ya’ pants hanging half off your ass, acting like some high rolling gangster!

      You’re no gangster, Nicholas. You are a man of virtue. You need to act like a man instead of a damn child! Keeping up with your tomfoolery is like watching the animals at the Porter Zoo!

      I was pissed. What? You calling me an animal, Drunky Bunky?

      "You want to know something? Back in my day, everyone was real to what they did and if you weren’t real, you got dealt with accordingly. You kids these days are nothing but punks who act tough for social media likes and bullshit popularity!

      "You’ve been on that corner ever since you were fourteen, doing nothing but socializing! If you were down there selling drugs like you claim, you’d have some steady money. But no!

      I’m still the one giving you some every month, only for you to go spend it on these little tramps around here! I thought you were my son, not a damn disgrace to this family! my dad fired.

      I sighed loudly and couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was up to the head with my dad’s nonsense.

      "What? The big and bad of Breckston ran out of words to say?"

      Fuck you, Dad! You ain’t shit! I shouted, pushing everything off the dining table and onto the floor.

      My dad stood there, laughing.

      Typical ass shit, Nicholas. Always catching feelings whenever he hears the truth.

      Go play in traffic, coke head!

      I stormed out of the kitchen, walking to the front door. I slammed the door behind me.

      As I was walking down the street, Bum Messiah—the neighborhood hobo who claims he’s Jesus, approached me.

      Wassup, playa? Bum Messiah said to me, but I wasn’t in the mood for no BS. I walked faster, trying to avoid him.

      Slow down for a second, playa! I got some wisdom to share!

      Yeah, of what kind?

      The wisdom of the Lord!

      No. I don’t want any wisdom from the Lord today. Yo’ ass ain’t Jesus or a god of any kind. You cannot turn urine into fleur champagne or dog shit into a gold chain, so go take yo’ ass back to the bus station bench, I snapped, but Bum Messiah laughed it off.

      Why be so mad, brother? You gotta be happy, you can’t be walking around with that smug look. That’s how Satan wants you to feel!

      You wanna know something, man? Fuck God, fuck Satan, and fuck you! I don’t need this right now. Also, quit calling me your damn brother because I ain’t related to yo’ ass.

      Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see if I can help, Bum Messiah prompted.

      I’m broke and miserable. What else do you want to know? How much my girth is?

      Nah, nah, no! There’s more to your mind, my fellow son. Let me guess… issues with the family? Specifically… daddy, Bum Messiah pointed out.

      I looked at him crazily, it’s as if he read my mind.

      What? How the fuck did you know that?

      "I am spiritually intelligent. You two had an argument over your lifestyle, and you’re thinking, Well… how do I make it up to him? I got the answer to that."

      Bum Messiah pulled out a blank piece of paper and ripped it into two.

      What are you doing now?

      Just watch.

      He balled up the two halves, spat on them, and shook his hands violently. After that, Bum Messiah opened his hands and two tickets were in his palms.

      Peace! Two tickets to the Ghanport Echidnas basketball game tonight at the Warner Arena! Best seats in the house, right on the floor! They’re yours, Bum Messiah said.

      I was blown away by what he just did. I’ve never seen anyone do that.

      What the… how the fuck did you do that? Was that even possible?

      Bum Messiah smiled. With the power of God, anything is possible. Take ya’ old man to a game. Make it up to him. This would be the chance to bond, Bum Messiah said, suggesting that I take my father to the game tonight. With seats on the floor and the fact that we both love the sport; things will go well.

      If you read minds, can you predict the future? I asked.

      Well, yes. If you want, I can turn dog shit into a gold chain. I can also turn a hoe into—

      No. Predict my future, I said.

      You finna’ pay for that? Bum Messiah asked.

      I thought faith was free, I stated.

      Well, Bum Messiah charges for additional services.

      Forget that. I got shit to do, I said, walking off.

      Hey, remember. God loves you! Bum Messiah shouted as I walked away.

      Chapter 2- The First Lick

      First Job

      I came up to the corner of Regina and Nascent by the abandoned mills. As I approached Ricky and Reggie, we greeted each other with that brotherly love.

      What’s good, my boy? Reggie said as we slapped hands.

      Just my pops, man. He gets on my fuckin’ nerves, I said.

      Another falling out wit’ ya’ old man, huh? I know how it is. Pretty hectic when it comes to your parents, but you know… he loves you, remember that. You only get one dad, Ricky explained.

      "My dad ain’t shit! Fuck him! He be in the house all day, sniffing coke! And he had some nerve to blame me for his addiction, like that’s my fault!

      "I try to reason with him sometimes, but it doesn’t work. He acts like a bitch. All he ever says to me is Why can’t you be like everyone else, or Either you gone get locked up or wind up dead.

      "It’s fucked up enough that my family members ain’t doing nothing to support me. Not to mention the fact my mom is behind bars for the rest of her life, it makes a bad situation worse.

      "But, guess what? Here I am, barely about to make fifty dollars today standing on this shitty ass corner selling these weak ass dubs! I might as well let the police bust down on my ass or one of the Red Vato Boys pop me cuz’ this shit… this shit is just absurd!

      I want a beautiful wife! I want kids! I want shitloads of money! I want an estate which I run! I want every sports car I can drive and let me get a maid with ass like a donkey who cleans and cooks lobster with steak! I shouted angrily, kicking a rock.

      The rock flew into one of the windows of the abandoned mills. I’m furious that I’m forced to go through the shit that I am at the current moment without an idea of how to fix it. Reggie walked up to me and patted me on the back.

      It’s gone be all right, bruh. I do have some news you want to hear though, Reggie said.

      What? The police are about to bust this spot down? We gotta find somewhere else to sling? Bum Messiah is the real Jesus? JB losing weight? Euphoria Plaza hasn’t received a terroristic threat this year? My dad is taking his ass to a rehab facility? They’re about to free my mom? How about—

      Reggie sucked his teeth. Nicholas! Come on with that pessimistic ass attitude. You talking about how you want this and that… with the way you thinking, you ain’t finna’ have shit. Now, I ran into JB this morning. He said that he got a job for us, like… to come meet him at his place.

      Shit, let’s go hit that job up.

      Bet. That’s the spirit. Let’s roll, niggas.

      Eleven minutes later, Reggie, Ricky and I were at the subway station waiting on the train bound for New Wood.

      We chatted as we were waiting.

      So guys, what is this job gone be about? Ricky asked.

      I don’t know, none of us do. Whatever it is, it better pay well. Otherwise JB and I are gonna have a talk. Nicholas, your thoughts? Reggie replied.

      Well, I’m pretty sure he got a lotta money. I’ve been hearing lots of stories about him. Stories about how he used to fuck with Rapael Jacobs.

      JB was putting in work for Rapael? Ricky asked.

      I nodded. Yeah, so I’ve been told.

      What do you think happened between them?

      I shrugged. How should I know? Rapael died in 2013, didn’t he?

      Reggie cut in. Yeah. This kid from Florida had did him in.

      Word, word. I think I saw that shit on the news then, Ricky replied.

      The train arrived. We boarded and sat comfortably for the ride.

      As we looked out of the window, the Ghanport City skyline could be visible for miles. There were skyscrapers everywhere. A true metropolis.

      The sun shined off the glistening Ghanport Bay, creating ecstasy to the eye.

      Sadly, the train made a swift transition underground, so the bodacious scenery was gone. We arrived at the New Wood station on Zagat Street. The three of us exited the train and headed above ground.

      Whatever he got, it better pay. I swear, I ain’t boutta be in no bullshit, I said.

      Reggie nodded.

      Word up. Remember what we had to do to Lox? That nigga fucked us over big time, so we had to light his ass up. We can do the same to JB if he tries some shit too.

      Come on man, ya’ll needa’ stop being so damn cynical. We never gonna get outta’ here wit’ ya’ll thinking like that, Ricky said.

      Fine. Oh look, we here.

      The three of us finally arrived at JB’s place. It still looked the same as yesterday.

      Let’s go, I said, leading the clique as we walked into the building; going up to Apartment 400. I tapped on the door without hesitation. The same woman who was at the door last time came out, talking shit to us.

      Well, well, well… if it ain’t the Three Musketeers! Ha! the woman said, pissing us off with her snide comment.

      Say what now?

      The woman pointed at Reggie. And that nigga’s head looks like a dyslexic egg.

      This didn’t slide with him. What the hell did you say?

      I said yo’ head looks like a dyslexic egg, fool!

      Next thing I see is Reggie throwing a right hook. He knocked the woman out cold. This shocked the fuck out of me.

      Run yo’ mouth about me one more time, Reggie said as he stood over the woman that he just stretched out.

      Oh shit! Damn, nigga! You wildin! I shouted.

      Reggie, bruh! You just punched her! Ricky shouted.

      I don’t give a fuck. She shouldn’t have been talking shit.

      That shit was totally uncalled for, man!!! Ricky fired.

      I’ll punch yo’ ass next, Napoleon Dynamite! Reggie threatened, drawing his fist back. Ricky threw up his guard.

      Bring it on, Deebo! Ricky said, ready for action.

      I got in the middle of them both, telling these two idiots off.

      Look! If ya’ll motherfuckers don’t stop it, ima’ fuck the both of ya’ll up myself! Cut that shit out! We got paper to make! This ain’t no time for bickering! I yelled.

      Ricky and Reggie got the message.

      Both of ya’ll shake hands and be friends. Now, I demanded.

      Reggie walked up to Ricky, patting him on the back.

      Sorry, man.

      Ricky nodded.

      I’m sorry too.

      They both shook hands.

      Now, we going inside. No more fighting, I said, going into the apartment. Ricky and Reggie followed.

      This motherfucker stink, Reggie said.

      Don’t start, I replied.

      We walked up to JB’s bedroom door and I turned the knob. JB was looking at us when we came into his room. He laughed and spat into a cup.

      I was waiting on ya’ll. Ya’ll wanted that work, and… I got ya’ll that work. You finna’ get sum’ nice pay now, so if you fuck up… no pay. This is the drop, right? Ya’ll are gonna go pick up one of my nephews. His name is Ralph, JB explained.

      So, all we gotta do is go pick up some kid named Ralph? I asked.

      I didn’t finish. You’re going to pick him up and ya’ll gonna go to Warner Cape, right?

      Warner Cape? Western Ghanport City, by City and State lines?

      Yes, nephew.

      Bet, we get ya.

      "Okay. It’s this lockup there. Ralph will give you the rest of the details. You guys are going to steal four cars for me.

      "It’s going to be four of you, so one of you will steal a Rolls Royce. Another will steal a Lamborghini, then one will steal an Audi. Whoever is left of the crop gets the Bugatti.

      After you get those cars, I got a lockup on Beauchamp Street in Leary City. After ya’ll park the cars into the lockup, ya’ll come back here and get paid. Does that sound good? JB explained.

      So, we gotta pick up this Ralph kid, go to a lockup in Cape Warner to steal four cars, take them same cars to your lockup in Leary City and come back here with Ralph? Ricky asked.

      "Yeah, that’s all. If you could impress me, I’ll entrust you with some more jobs. I will get you in with my bros from the organized crime bid and you can have a proper come up in this town.

      "One thing about this place—if people see that you’re working hard, you’re going to get the results for it. Ralph lives on Spew Street in Gavantula Heights.

      "I’ll give you some money for a taxi. Ralph got a car that can fit all ya’ll in it and after you go to his house, take his car and drive to the lockup.

      Make sure you bring back the cars in mint condition. No dents, stains, scratches… nothing. I want those rides clean as water, JB explained.

      Sounds like it’s going to be great. Not everyone gets to drive a sports car on their first lick, Ricky said, extremely grateful for the opportunity.

      A’ight, we will get that done for you, I replied excitingly.

      Great. Call me when you’re done. Good luck, JB said.

      JB trusted us to get this job done and we couldn’t break that trust. This was our first impression, so we needed to leave an impeccable one. The three of us left the apartment and called up a taxi. We stood in front of Soronoza Flats awaiting it.

      I wonder who Ralph is, Ricky stated.

      Probably some teenager who wanna be down. I bet he attends Leary High School, I said sarcastically.

      That was our school, Reggie joined.

      I hated school. I always did. Ricky, how the fuck did you even consider going to college, you smart ass bitch? I replied.

      Why wouldn’t I? Shit, it’s all right, but if we gone be playing the dope game in the future, you need somebody who can run numbers. Someone who knows the return and profit of it all, Ricky explained.

      Reggie and I laughed.

      Nigga, you just a big ass thugged out nerd, Reggie said.

      The taxi pulled up and we all got in.

      Where you guys going? the taxi driver asked.

      Spew Street, Gavantula Heights, sir.

      I’ll get you there in a flash, the driver said, pulling off.

      I sat back in my seat, checking my phone.

      I wonder who this Ralph kid is, Ricky said.

      We’ll see once we meet him. I hope this don’t go all the way into the night though, I replied.

      Why you say that? Reggie asked.

      "I got tickets to the Echidnas game tonight. I’m taking my dad with me so he can get out of the house for once and quit sniffing coke.

      I know that my old man and I have a rocky ass relationship… but that’s still my dad at the end of the day and I love him, no matter what. I just want to make things right with him, I explained.

      As Mom headed toward her doom known as the State Penitentiary, the relationship between my dad and I heavily suffered as a result.

      There would be nights that he would come home drunk, arguing and fighting with us. My mother couldn’t take it, she never knew why my dad acted so impulsively whenever he abused drugs and alcohol. My other siblings were well on their way to graduate school and would eventually move out.

      Me on the other hand, I didn’t have the mindset to get out of the situation I was in. I sold drugs, so no way they would let me attend any kind of prestigious university because of my criminal history. I’ve been there, done that.

      I’ve spent time in jail, believe me. Wasn’t fun. I was sent to scared straight programs. I also took drug tests back to back and failed every single one. GDFCS (Ghanport’s Department of Family and Child Services) was in my situation all the time.

      Getting a job wasn’t easy either. Matter of fact, every job I applied for—either my application was denied, or I got fired on the first day.

      In the eighth grade, I remember when I was an escort to this teenaged model from Brazil. I hit the weights a lot and knew how to throw my hands, so I was a suitable candidate for the job. I was let go for the dumbest reason.

      The girl fell down steps and her manager told me that I was supposed to jump in the way as she fell.

      Just because she was clumsy and didn’t know how to walk in stilettos, that didn’t mean I had to break my neck for that bimbo. As a result of her fall, she broke her leg and I got fired.

      The following year, I became a freshman in high school. I met up with some slingers and they put me on. I stood on the same corner selling dope ever since.

      We arrived at our destination.

      I looked around and there were loads of rowhouses and dealers standing on the corners.

      That’ll be $20, the driver said.

      I reached into my pocket and handed him a $20. The three of us exited the cab and walked down the street, looking for Ralph.

      Ralph! Where you at, yo? Reggie shouted indistinctly.

      Stop that shouting! We ain’t in Breckston and you crying out like that? You’ll get us shot bruh, I replied.

      My bad, but where is Ralph? That fool JB never told us what he looked like…

      Suddenly, a voice was heard.

      Yeooooo, ya’ll looking for me? an unknown person shouted, approaching us.

      As we looked at this guy, his build was like Reggie’s but a bit slimmer. He had curly hair and tanned skin. He sported a pair of Nikes, black pants, and a windbreaker. Two diamond studs were in his ears. I’m guessing that this is Ralph.

      Yeah, are you Ralph? I asked the guy.

      Got that right. Ralph Cervantes, 100% Dominican. Where ya’ll from? Never seen you cats around.

      We from Breckston. JB sent us, I replied.

      What gang, like set?

      We ain’t in shit, dog. We got our own thing. However, we have heavy ass beef with the Red Vato Boys. I don’t like any of them spics, I replied to Ralph’s disdain because I used

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