Christopher CJX Joseph's Blog

      Two sides to every story

     One man’s gloom is another man’s glory

     Sun to a shadow, rose to a thorn

     There ain’t no fury like a woman scorned

     Prince – “Fury”

Mama was awake.

The skies over Detroit were ominously purple clouds that gurgled and rumbled threatening a downpour but never producing water. A single drop splashes off of Mama’s hospital window and dislodges a nearby leaf off of a White Birch. The leaf floats between the clouds and random drips. From the underside of the leaf a worm appears scrambling to stay afloat. A dove appears, snatches up the leaf and worm.

Rummaging through the ruins of Zeke’s Kitchen, Silvia looks in awe as the kitchen portion still stands. The up to date appliances and equipment her father worked so hard to install were barely touched by the fire. As for the rest, nothing but charred remains of ash and mud. Was completely surreal.

Freddy, Pooky, Tyrone, Akee and Bama with a group of volunteers sift through the ash. Maureen pulls out a picture of her father and civil rights protesters and cries. Akee pats her back, “Miss Woods, so sorry I am.”

Maureen sobs, grips his elbow. Nods as he whips her tears. In her half closed eyes she blinks, looks above her, squints. The majestic dove is circling above them, soaring gracefully, symbolic. She locks eyes with Silvia who spots the bird also. They have a moment as the clouds open up, sun shines through the ominous purple clouds.

Maureen screams as the bird coos and craps on her eye. Akee has to help her watch her footing as she full fledged freaks out, shaking her hands, swatting her face. The men start snickering before laughing hysterically.

Silvia tilts her head sideways, “What the heck?” Her cell is buzzing incessantly. She fumbles for it in the mayhem of her sister freaking out.

“Help me! Somebody get hot water and soap! Get me some vinegar! Medic! Doctor! Somebody!”

Silvia reads the text as she takes a moment to comprehend, she gasps, checks the voicemail, screams herself.

“What the Sam hill now?” Pooky groans

“Mama is awake! Mama is awake!! Seriously? Stop messing around Mo! Let’s go!!”

“Mama? What the what! I call shotgun!” Tyrone yells.

“Lord have mercy, oh happy day. I’ll get my car also, some of you can ride with me.” Freddy starts sauntering towards the street.

Pooky laughs, “I’m good, that ol’ ‘86 Continental with no shooks, dang death trap. I’ll ride with Silvia.”

“Guys, it says she’s cooking for everyone? Um we gotta go.”

“Cooking? I can finally get my eggs and bacon! Whoo hoo!” Tyrone does a gig.

“Serious? Lord Jesus what is your mother up too now? We need to go! Can you keep up with me in that eco-boost thing?”

Silvia snickers, “Will see, let’s hope your back shocks don’t give out and you disappear into a pothole.”

Maureen is on her knees trying to get to Silvia’s car, “My eye, my eye, I can’t see, I can’t see. Wait, wait!”

Silvia huffs, her sister doing too much, taking this bird poo to the extreme as she gets out to help her. Odd, she pondered looking up at the circling birds and stain colored clouds, this entire day seemed quite ominous with a sprinkle of hope. She lets out a heavy sigh and helps her traumatized sister into her car.

Elsewhere in Detroit

Ezekiel sits in his BMW outside of his office, dribbles of rain blur his image inside. He wipes his brow deep in concentration. For once, he is unsure of himself.

His cell buzzes incessantly, he picks it up, stares at it a moment contemplating, ends up throwing it to the side. Gathering his courage he gathers his briefcase and exits the vehicle, pausing to gaze directly into the drizzling rain before heading into the office.

The lights are dim as the business is only working with a skeleton crew. His partners Marty and Theodore Simon are in the meeting room along with their accountant Aspen Jobson.

“Ez E is finally in the house, come in my boy and let’s celebrate!” Marty is red nose busted already pouring some Vodka at the private bar. “Shots, shots, shots!” Theodore and Aspen shake their head. Ezekiel rolls his eyes, sighs, walks over and takes the glass.

“You’re late Woods, don’t even know how you made partner with all of your trivial indiscretions distracting you. Can we get this show on the road finally?” Theodore grumbles.

“Good to see you too Theo” Ezekiel snickers.

Aspen casually walks over to him hands him a folder of documents. He looks over her long legs accented by her 5 inch heels. She follows his gaze and shakes her head. “Please look over your documents, if everything is in order you can sign over your portion of the insurance policy.”

“Everybody else will fall in line, not like anything is left. Amazing coincidence don’t you think.” Theodore quips. Ezekiel huffs, looks begrudgingly over the papers.

“Ezekiel my boy, don’t sweat it. Your father would have been okay with this, every story has an ending and he would have understood the time has come. Change is always for certain.”

“Not like this, something don’t feel right.”

“Really get cold feet Jr? You was the one that even suggested we go this route. Wanted to better the community, improve the neighborhood, make it better than when you was be a kid. How ironic indeed, all that talk for nothing.” Theodore huffs.

Marty pours another drink, “Zeke, listen gentrification doesn’t necessarily have to be a dirty word!” He takes a shot and burps, follows with a chaser.

“And don’t forget this carries a 1.2 million dollar purse for brokering this deal Mr. Woods.” Aspen adds in not even looking up from her calculations.

Theodore lights a cigar, “You know lil Zeke, piecing together all of these parcels gives us a demanding portion on the west side. Redeveloping this is not only smart for us, it’s definitely smart for Detroit!” He checks his messages. “Looks like our primary funder wants to join the party and meet everyone. He’s here.”

“Really? This should be interesting. Person has been a mystery. Like to see which devil I’m dancing with.”

Ezekiel reads over the contract as an entourage enters. He is caught up dissecting it when he notices the decorated distinct cane. It’s Lydell Winkleman. Ezekiel leans back, everything becomes clear, he feels his stomach flip, this isn’t right.

“Ezekiel my boy, so good to see you. Glad we’re finally doing business together.”

“Excuse my candor, but Simon brothers this that bull…”

“Ezekiel, my ol’ friend, you set this in motion yourself so many years ago. This is the direct results of your transgressions those many years ago. Against my family, me keeping your secret. Your eventual payback. I gave you ample opportunity to make amends – and you failed to do so.” Winkleman quips smugly.

Ezekiel stands, brushes the papers off of the desk. The lawyers look at him in confusion. Lydell smirks at him, stands his ground as they glare at each other.

“Mr. Woods, Mr. Winkleman is correct in the regards you did set this in motion, drew up the plans, even suggested the location…”

Ezekiel cuts off Aspen, “And my initial plan was not a total gentrification of my old neighborhood! These current plans will destroy the neighborhood! That was NOT the plan!” She sucks her lips and sits back glaring over at Theodore. He starts to react but his brother interrupts.

“Gentrification doesn’t have to be a bad word my boy! Everything is coming into place Ezekiel, roll with it!” Marty laughs and takes a shot.

“Not acceptable! I am not signing a deal with the devil! You guys purposely withheld this information. You know that’s grounds for a lawsuit right? I am about to sue all of you and walk in and work with you afterwards.”

“The devil comes in different forms don’t it little Zeke?” Lydell leans in.

“Lloyd don’t play with me!”

“Ezekiel cut the crap! You know you did it!” Marty guffaws spilling alcohol. Ezekiel looks at him surprised before he makes eyes with Lydell. Lydell smirks.

“Ah contraire, information was shared with you via your partner which is very legal. As far as we know you was aware of everyone’s involvement with this project. Everybody here had access to the same information.” Theodore looks deadpan at Ezekiel.

“Partner? Which partner shared this with me? This is ridiculous. I don’t have to stand for this, see you guys in court and I can erase the Simon name from the title!” Ezekiel is slamming stuff into his attache. The door slams.

Lydell looks down the hallway, “Well well, looks like your silent partner is here. Amazing you didn’t see this coming.”

Ezekiel frowns, “Excuse me?” He looks around the corner, his mouth opens in shock, instant sweat on his face. He wipes his face and stands up straight discombobulated.

“What’s the matter hubby? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kayla stands above him, dressed sharply in a suit, heels, her hair done. She smirks and sits down near Lloyd. He attempts to touch her shoulder and she moves away. He grimaces.

“Seriously? This is my so called partner? Don’t make me laugh! This has to be a joke, what grounds do you have to pull this coup?”

“Coup? This is not a coup, this is a takeover honey. For better or for worse right? Kept me hock’ed up on those magic lil blue pills, messing around with your slutty secretary…”

“Excuse me, I don’t think so! Complete ridiculousness! You don’t know…”

“Shut it pinhead, your lies are complete ridiculousness! I’m tired of hearing your bloated ego-maniacal narcissistic drivel, go cry me a river Lil Zekey, lil Zeke is about right.”

“How dare you! You really think you have me backed into a corner? You coming in here with crooked Lydell of all people! LIE – dell – seriously?”

“Excuse me?” Lydell arches his eyebrow.

“Two words my dear hubby, Ria Vergeman.” Ezekiel stops in his tracks, his jaw drops in shock. “You’ve been a naughty boy you jerk. Now I have to provide papers.” Everybody quietly looks in suspense as she produces two packets. “One; paternity results. Two; divorce papers.” She slaps them on his lap as Ezekiel for once is speechless. “Checkmate”.

The room is quiet as Kayla relishes in finally having her day above her husband. As he looks aghast over the papers a single tear drop splats on the paper. He lifts his head and she hides glassy eyes, wipes her face before throwing a cell phone onto the table. “By the way, your mother is awake, she asked about you. She’s cooking or something. Oh yeah, Kwame is there. Might want to go.” She yanks off her wedding ring and throws it on the floor by his feet as he looks discombobulated. She grabs her Sninola watch also.

Marty gasps, “That’s Detroit’s finest! Don’t do it Kay!” She rethinks the watch.

Ezekiel is beside himself, “Wait, what…”

“Go fool, we’ll wrap this up later.” Kayla puts her self together and tells Lydell, “Let’s go.”

“KAYLA! This isn’t over! Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not getting dirty with this man like you did with skank, just business wise. Don’t worry where I’m going. You need to get to your mother.”

She strolls out of the offices with Lydell’s entourage behind, Lydell looks at him and smirks. Ezekiel mouths out a curse word to him as Lydell drops his handkerchief in disrespect.

“KAYLA! Come back! This isn’t over! KAYLA!” Weakened, Ezekiel crumbles into the chair as his partners watch in silence.

“Well, that was enough entertainment for tonight, believe I will excuse myself. Will expect these signed papers in the morning Mr. Woods.” Aspen lays the papers on the table and exits. Ezekiel trembles staring at the documents, he wipes them off the table.

Marty takes another shot as Theodore shakes his head and disappears into the private restroom over his office.

“KAYLAAAAAAAA!!!”

Hospital

In a quiet corner of the hospital parking garage Ezekiel’s BMW sits idling. The sun outside sparkles high illuminating even the darkest corners. A sharp glare conceals the driver inside sitting in the desolate corner of the garage. Ezekiel’s knuckles grip the steering wheel hard, he leans forward his face fifty shades lighter, he is sobbing. Detroit darling Eryn Allen Kane plays softly between his sobs…

     Sinking down under the water, slipping down under

     Drifting out into the water, missing down under

     Sinking down under the water, slipping down under

     Drifting out into the water, missing down under

     Have mercy, have mercy, have mercy, have mercy

     Have mercy on us all  (Repeat)

Have Mercy – “Eryn Allen Kane”

Fourth floor Hospital

The hospital cafeteria is unusually packed on weekday afternoon. Crisp shafts of light shines through the large windows casting long shadows across the room as it’s standing room only. The Vergeman sisters are chatting it up with nurses near the soda pop machines. Tyrone is deeply emotional with his plate of deep fried fish, macaroni and cheese, okra, potatoes and gravy. Taking each bite with such an emotional transgression that his mind shuts down while his soul is lifted to higher elevations.

Ackee and Bama are talking politics with Pastor Ceopha Clements. Pooky leads his kitchen team staff of Sugar, Tanya and Moco serving trays of steaming hot food to the packed room full of Zeke’s Kitchen fans and hospital staff. Dr. Sharon is conversing with Kylie about what it means to be a doctor as the young Kevin Jr. is getting to know his cousin Matador and Gentry running among the crowd.

“Hi Daddy!” His son hugs him as Matador seems to be the only one happy to see him as Kylie looks away from her father.

A wisp of blonde hair pops out of the crowd, Sasha scrunches her nose and elbows her bestie Utopia who looks up at the disgraced Ezekiel with contempt. He feels her stare rush through him as she sits between the blonde and an Indian woman he comes to find is his nephew’s mother Ponyi. Quinton, Zach, and Jaquan are all chopping it up deep in a conversation about the Pistons and Cavaliers. They drop quiet seeing Ezekiel, Big Moe stands up towering over him, shaking his head, sullen. Ezekiel loosens up his collar.

The room drops to a whisper as he approaches the front. A dreaded man hangs close to his mother who seems oblivious to all of the tension. She is in her own little world jolly, giggling like a schoolgirl between this man and Freddy Styles all over her. Freddy gives him a confident wink that disturbs him too his core. His mother and him are in their seventies but the obvious flirtation still bothers him. Heck, this is his mother.

Hearing a tapping noise on the floor he knows immediately baby sis Mo is on his left laying in on her high heel. He glances over, her face puffy, eyes narrowed at him, her wife Bailey is here, holding her hand, showing support. “Mo” he chokes a bit.

“Ezekiel” She growls.

Silvia arrives with drinks sharing them with her mother, Freddy and this dreaded man. She smiles at him “Hey man, bout time you arrived! Where’s Kayla?”

“Sis” Mo hisses.

“What? What? What did I miss?” Silvia asks innocently.

“Son! Come here!” Mama notices him. He goes and hugs her hard. “I love you son.”

“Mama, don’t scare us like that. Are you okay?” He’s fighting back tears.

“No, but everything will be okay.”

“Why are you cooking today? You need to be resting.” He keeps wondering why this dreaded man is rubbing her shoulders and Silvia is fawning all over him.

“Son, you do your lawyering. I cook. It’s who I am and I’m proud of it. Everybody here can attest to that!” The room claps in response. She continues “Be proud of what you do and you’ll make it right” She looks deep into his eyes. He gulps, loosens his collar more, she must of heard of his blunders, crap.

“I love you mother, so much.” He hugs her hard tearing up.

“I love you too son, so happy to have you both here with me. I feel complete.”

His mother clasped his ears, a throwback to what used to do when he was a boy choking him up. This was getting very uncomfortable. This dreaded man was looking at him and grinning. He was ready to pounce.

“Do you have a problem man?”

He claps, “Never ever seen the mighty Ezekiel flustered, was worth coming for this!” The dreaded man snickers.

Ezekiel almost passes out, he recognized his brothers voice anywhere. “Wait, what? You just said both here? Kevin?” He looks on flabbergasted.

“Seriously? Was this too much for you brother? And by the way, it’s Kwame brother, Kwame!” He points to his Jamaican style and laughs.

“Yes, I, I…!” Ezekiel stutters, flabbergasted. Kwame laughs and reaches out for his brother. Ezekiel blinks in shock before finally submitting and hugging Kevin. The watching, eerily quiet room erupts in applause.

“About time!” Slivia joins in the embrace tearing up. Mama looks on satisfied.

“I’m sorry bro, really I am.” Ezekiel musters.

“It’s all love here brother.”

A hard fingernail jabs him in his side. Ezekiel turns around and gets a slap across his face. Flabbergasted he expects to see Kayla.

“Maureen Patricia Woods!” Mama gasps.

Ezekiel winces before eying Maureen glaring at him. “Glad you two found some bro love in the midst of Mama’s comeback but you still have some unfinished business here.”

“How dare you! I know we have our diff…”

“Shut it Lil Zeke! Let me finish!”

“Mo! Now is not the time to iron this…”

“Hey! Let her speak jerk or I’ll lay your boogie ass to sleep.” Bailey springs into action, fist raised, ready to protect her girl.”

“Oh Miss let me put your lil dyke…”

“Ezekiel Quinzell Woods! Let your sister speak!” Mama practically stands up, Kwame and Freddy assist her to sit back down as Dr. Sharon rushes over to check her vitals. Mama’s watery eyes speak to him as he realizes he’s in the wrong. “Your father would be very ashamed of you right now Zekey. You need to make things right, starting with that lil girl right there.”

“Wait, what? Mo and I been beefing since we was kids, about that time she was discovering herself.”

“And you violated that little girl. Ezekiel, we raised you better than that, you supposed to be my shining star, how could you?”

“Mama, what are you talking about?” The desperation in his voice is enhanced by the circle around him growing smaller. Ezekiel looks nervously about as Moe, Jaquan, Pooky, Moco, Sugar, Ackee, Zach, Tawnya, Tyrone, Bama are all breathing down his neck, seemingly ready to attack. The elder Vergemen Sisters are practically seething. Pastor Ceopha merely opens up his bible to pray! Ezekiel gulps as he sees Ponya usher out his Matador with Gentry and Kevin Jr.

“Son… you need to make things right. This lil girl needs her father.”

Ezekiel looks over at his mother, dumbfounded. Maureen sobs in front of him as Bailey holds her. Ezekiel realizes this wasn’t just about her. He spots Kylie, she shakes her head no. Her eyes pleads with his as she grips Utopia’s hand. He looks into Utopia’s eyes confused. She has been crying. Sasha is by her side, eyes narrowed glaring at him. She passes Utopia a faded Polaroid picture. Utopia rubs the picture and then holds it up for him to see. It’s Ria Vergeman.

“Son…you need to make things right.”

Utopia puts the picture in his shaking hand. She wipes away tears. “You remember her don’t you. My mother.”

Ezekiel mouths out “Your mother?’ She shakes her head yes in response.

“And you’re saying that, that…” He can’t even say it. Instinctively he glances over at Dr. Sharon who shakes her head that it was true.

“Trust, we had a sample jerk.” Sasha sneers as Utopia elbows her. “What?”

Maureen jabs him again, “Yes Zekey your pee pee made a baby! She’s yours brother! The consequences of your idiotic actions! Why you think we never made up duh! Do something, dang. That’s what I’m talking about.” She pushes him as he stumbles forward weak.

The surrounding circle of people seem to merge into a blurry glob. The air about him is stifled as anxiety snakes up his body. He feels faint, things are going black.

“Dad, make it right like G Mama said.” Kylie’s whisper breaks through the darkness as she grips his hand.

Ezekiel exhales, defeated, accepting. “I, I, I’m so sorry. Please, I beg for your forgiveness.” Shaking he takes Utopia’s hands. She breaks out crying and they embrace. He hugs her and Kylie tightly as the group erupts in applause.

Mama shakes her head behind the jovial room, “Thank you God for my family.”

In the corner of the room a silent observer watches over the reunion. He smiles and shakes his head satisfied. He looks over at the lil imp in the opposite corner. Shaking his head no he sends the Nain Rouge on his way. The children arriving back into the room, the next generation of Woods spots their grandfather hoovering in the corner. They smile and wave as he smiles back before dissipating in the corner.

EPILOGUE

Mama went home to join Ezekiel Sr. in the morning. Her brief return coinceded to bring her family back together. Her job was complete.

Her famous recipes were revealed in her last will and testament. To be shared amongst her children and their descendants as long as the family business stayed intact.

Kwame made things right, marrying Ponyi and taking her and Kevin Jr. on the road with him and his band The Komandoz. His boys often follow him on tour.

Kayla took her portion of the divorce settlement and her share of the company to move back to Ohio. She stays in nearby Toledo so that Matador and Kylie can be in driving distance from their father.

Maureen and Bailey were married among the ruins of Edgewater park. They said it gave them an edge at the abandoned amusement park. Maureen moved her advertising and marketing firm to Detroit. She joined with the movement of ‘Detroit Patented’ to help bring the city back.

Silvia earns her degree in business and economics and uses their settlement money to purchase a Food Truck. Zeke’s lives on, rolling on wheels serving the core business it was built on, the manufacturing core and remaining inner city neighborhoods of Detroit. Bailey joins the staff of Zeke’s Kitchen as the head cook. Even for a petite tatted up lil white girl from Illinois she can throw down with healthy ‘Soul Food’. Pooky drives the truck while Tanya, Sugar and Moco stay on to serve customers. Jaquan is finally hired in as they help him with a scholarship to attend Michigan University.

After some serious soul searching and getting to re-know Utopia in another light, Ezekiel takes accountability for his actions and serves a neighborhood battered woman group his time and energy. He takes time to actually help paint and spruce up their meeting room at the community center under the guise of Freddy Styles. Freddy laments in an anonymous donation to the center which puts them in the financial black.

After Utopia leaves for school at Wilberforce University, Ezekiel reclaims his portion of Simon Woods Simon by suing his former partners for malpractice. He revamps the gentrification project for his old neighborhood running Winkleman out of the equation. Instead of high priced condominiums, he brings back affordable single family homes to rebuild his old stomping grounds.

In the midst of all of the activity, the original Zeke’s Kitchen slowly gets rebuilt.

Under doctor’s orders Tyrone was forced to give up his favorite ‘Soul Food’ meal. He is fit to be tied.

Tyla and Ezekiel Woods Sr. look over their family and nod their heads in approval.

End.

“My mom sent me to the store with a food stamp

For a pack of cigarettes and a book at the newsstand (here)

Two dudes ran up, jumped out of a blue van

I looked down at the ground and picked up a huge branch

I swung it at the first dude, the other one with him

So he tried to rush, I swept his legs pinned him and bit him

He came back with six or seven dudes screaming “Get Him!”

Eminem * ‘Food Stamp’

Detroit – Ten years earlier:

Kevin Woods saunters with effortless swag, quickly crisscrossing the potholes of Seven Mile, bobbing his starter row of mini-twists head in sync to Kanye West booming on his bubulous Sony headphones. Even though he’s on foot he shines in his black Adidas hoodie, velvet sweats, thick white gold chain with classic black and white shell toes.  Kevin is in a zone rapping and air drumming along with Mr. West, “I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny, and what I do?  Act more stupidly, bought more jewelry, more Louie V, my Mama couldn’t get through to me…”

“A yo K- Swizzle!”  A familiar voice booms from down the street by the gun shop, it’s his boy Zach walking towards him on the opposite side of the street with homie Quinton.

“A yo homies!”  Kevin yells back as Quinton gives him the finger salute, Kevin replies the same.  They make motions to head towards each other.

“This dude…” Kevin snickers to himself watching Zach lose his sagging pants while attempting to cross the street.

A blue van encroaches behind the distracted Kevin as he watches Zach stumbling on his pants cuffs.

Kevin snickers “Ahh you can’t even walk N…”  The van startles him, cuts him off as two dudes jump out.  “What the?”  Rushing towards him Kevin backpedals and grabs a nearby tree branch, he swings at the first dude than the second.  Ducking and rolling the man springs back up and rushes again, he swings at his legs tripping him and pinning him on the ground.   Dude is still swinging as Kevin finds himself biting him to subdue him.  The man screams as his boy pushes Kevin off.

“Yo Kev what the heck!  Yo!” Quinton and Zach are rushing up as the unknown men scramble into the van.  They are barely inside the van as the driver steps on the gas spurting up gravel to escape.  Quinton exchanges a few blows with an attacker dangling outside the sliding van door before they bounce out into the street and gets away.

“We’ll be back Woods!”  The man yells out as they disappear in traffic.

Quinton brushes himself off angrily as he scowls at traffic, “For real yo, you know these fools? I’m gonna get my boy Jaquan and bust a cap in somebody!”

“Kev, who the hell was that man?  You in some type of trouble or something?”  Zach huffs surveying the scene of the crime.

“No, no, I have no idea, seriously yo, that was some illness for real.  All I know is Mama gave me the food stamp card to run to the corner store to get some milk, eggs, cheese and a crosswords puzzle book man, then I saw you dudes and bam it was a wrap.”

“You really had no idea?  Man that didn’t seem like a random jump nah mean.  They knew your name.”

“That’s that bull man, I’m getting my homies, we taking these fools out!”

“Quinton chill no need to escalate it man, we need to strategize and figure out things, I don’t like this yo,  I don’t like this crap at all!”

They head into the corner store as Kevin seeks out the requested items, Quinton continues bouncing around full of hyped up energy.

“And since when does the Woods family need food stamps anyways?”

“Since the auto plant shut down and everything around it, Zeke’s business has been dry!  Thought you knew!”

“Shut the front door, Woods family even feeling the effects of the Detroit shut down!  I remember the heyday of Zeke’s; bros were packed wall to wall waiting for that fried fish, collard greens, okra, chicken fried steak, pork ribs…”

“Black eyed peas, cornbread, gizzards, ham hocks, sweet potatoes…”

“You two are bringing back serious memories.  I miss those days, restaurant is struggling.  Dad is over Casstown having to pick up cheaper meat now!”

“Man, I’m getting hungry!  What were those ones, Ox jaws or something?”

“Pigs feet”  Quinton laughs, finally mellowing out.

“Yeech, I’m good on that and Chitterlings.”  Zach scrunches his nose.

“Cause you a redhead freckled face fool, you grew up on some escargot or something.  Don’t know nothin bout that down home food.”  Quinton jabs Zach.

“The swine rejects is what Master fed the slaves, establishing a new tradition injected into our DNA.”  Quinton makes a face at the serious Kevin.

“Oh hell no, isn’t that snails or something?”

“You tell me!”

“Bro, I grew up on Ramen noodles, mayo sandwiches and Kool-Aid just like ya’ll.  Trailer parks don’t have any escargot or whatever the hell that is!”

“Hmmm and that government cheese whew!  Obama needs to bring back that service right to the house, the cheese, the bread, milk, eggs, cereal.   Loved getting that joint’s right at the door!”  Quinton rubs his stomach.

“Fool, cause you was too lazy to run to the corner store to buy it!”  Kevin jabs him as they laugh.

“Hey though, that government cheese was the whip!  Last forever, cut a bit of mold off, keep eating!”  Zach injects.

“That doesn’t even sound right, probably was some type of experiment on us, probably injected with pesticides or something.  Gotta eat the right foods that mother nature intended for us, fresh, organic, from the earth, not all that preservatives, msg, stuff you can’t pronounce.”  Kevin gets serious on them.

“There you go with that conspiracy bull again Kevin, lighten up homie.  Like they would do something like that to us!”

Kevin and Zach both stare at Quinton deadpan.  He shrugs, “What?”

Tires squeal startling them as they exit the store, the van is back.

Kevin shakes his head, “Are you kidding me?”

Quinton moves towards the van fists up, “Bring it!”

The sliding door pops open and six or seven guys leap out, “Get him!”

“Awe hell no!”  Quinton backs into Kevin and Zach as the men rush them, they turn and run.  Men race behind them as the van squeals tires and follows in pursuit.  Quinton races behind a house, “Come on!”

The boys leap over a fence as sirens ring out in the neighborhood.  Kevin’s heart falls into his stomach as he hears a large commotion erupting from the next block.  The small trio scramble through brush and backyards avoiding Seven Mile.

“Yo man, I’m pisst, just bought these K-Swiss.”  Quinton grumbles as they peer over another fence.  “I’ll just have to throw these out, grass stains are murderous.”

“Seriously though?  What size you wear man?  I’ll take them!”  Zach pleads.

“Guys… back to the present?  We have cops and unknown assailants battling it out and we don’t know which way to go.”  Kevin shakes his head.

“Bruh, you have unknown assailants tracking you down like an Eminem song.  Not us, you.  We innocent accomplices.  Dudes in a blue van, what the…”  Zach pulls out a blunt listening to Quinton rattle on before pausing.  “Bruh, did you really just pull out a blunt?”

“Dude, this was getting old, we just ran like a mile or something down Seven mile.  I got some type of sticky plant things on my socks, think I cut my leg, I’m tired, hungry, time for a smoke.”

Quinton shakes his head before reaching out, “Bruh, don’t be stingy.”

“You two are unbelieveable.”

“Hey, what you boys doing in my lawn crushing my baby’s flowers?”  A booming voice rings out with the click of a gun.

“Let’s go!”

*******************************************************

Casstown

Ezekiel Sr. is loading his van from the supply store, it’s almost completely full as the sun is starting to set casting shadows.  He’s wedging a carton of flour into the cramped space when something startles him scurrying about in the parking lot.  He looks around, shakes it off and keeps packing.  It rolls underneath a car.

“What the?  Who’s there, what is that?”

He hears something like a child snickering.  He looks under the cars, down the lot, doesn’t see anything.  He goes back to packing.

There is a laugh in the shadows.  He looks around, “Who’s there?  Show yourself!”  He grumbles and slams the door.  “Damn kids.”

He pulls out his keys when something flashes by the lone tree behind the lot.  Squinting he peers towards the tree as something seems to be standing beside it.   It moves, laughs at him.  It seems to be a little man, taunting, mocking him

“Who are you, what do you want?”

The little man stands a bit more erect, he seems to have horns and long fingernails.  His little arm shakes, he rears a pointy nail towards Ezekiel.  He speaks but is barely audible.

“Hey man, I don’t know what you’re on but I don’t want any trouble.  I’m going to go now.”  Ezekiel heads for his door when a huge rock dents into his door.  He wheels around at the little imp, he seems bigger.  “Hey, what’s the deal man!  Who’s going to pay for that?”

“Loser” The imp mutters.

“What you call me?”

“Loser!”  He throws another rock bashing through the window of the van.

“Damn it!”  Ezekiel slings a rock back as the imp laughs, his eyes glow.    Ezekiah ends up throwing his keys.

“Dad!”  Ezekiel practically swings on Kevin.

“Kevin, what, what the heck, don’t do that.  Where did you come from?  Why are you here?”

“Mr. Woods, they after us, I don’t know what’s happening, we…” Zach pants, gasps.

“Slow down son, what is happening?”

“Dad, I don’t know who they are but somebody came at us.  They called me out, tried to rush me, came twice.  Second time they came back with more people.”

“Wait son, who is they?  What did you do?”

“Nothing, I don’t know dad.  Think it has something to do with the restaurant, seriously.”

Ezekiel looks at him curiously, remembers his keys and the encounter.  Looks back towards the back of the lot.

“Mr. Woods, what’s wrong, what are you looking at?”  Quinton asks.

“I don’t know, it’s not there now.  I need to find my keys, help me find them and I’ll take you boys home and figure this out.”

“Dad, what happened to your window?  Seriously, do we have the insurance for that?”

“Long story.  Let’s get the hell out of here.  Come on guys.”  They start to head towards the back of the lot.  Tires squeal and they turn to face blinding lights of a vehicle.  It’s the blue van.  The doors open as they stand behind Ezekiel Sr.

“Well, well, the Woods clan and esteemed guests.  Glad can gather everybody together in this fine location.”

“Lyam Winkelman, my goodness, what do you want?”  Ezekiel groans.

“That Lydell’s dad?”  Kevin whispers to his dad, Ezekiel nods and gives him the hand.

“Big Zeke, got your little man with you.  Where’s that punk little Zeke?  You know the Woods clan owes me huge for what he did.”

“Listen Lyam, drop it, you have no evidence.  This is ridiculous!  We owe you nothing!”

“Dad, what, what is he talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know, Uncle Kevin?”

“Lyam, drop it.  Listen, you and me know each other from the ol’ Ford assembly lines, working side by side, day in and day out.  We was on the same picket lines, working with the unions.  Our children grew up together.  Bro, we was family man.  Why are you doing this?”

Lyam steps forward, Lydell and two other men flanking him.  Lyam coughs up phlegm, covers his mouth with a handkerchief.  He spits on the ground.  Lydell whispers in his ear and Lyam shakes his head, “Screw that, listen Woods, $50k or everybody knows the foulness of your promising scholar discretions.  We’re going to be back every damn day causing havoc on everybody in your family until you pay.  Zeke’s Kitchen is done.  I own it now.”

“Dad what the hell is he talking about?”  Kevin jerks forward, Lyam’s men get in front.  Quinton and Zach push forward.

“Boys calm down, we’re not adding to Detroit’s violence tonight.  Mr. Winkleman and I will get this matter taken care of like gentlemen.”

“We’ll handle it by the Woods clan paying for Jr. sowing his seeds in my niece and running like a bitch damn it!”

“Sow his seed?  Dad?  What is he insinuating?”

“Ohh Lil Zeke got a kid?”  Zach blurts out.  Quinton jabs him in the gut.

“Not valid Zachary, he’s talking out the side of his neck.  Lyam lies…”

Lydell has to practically hold his father back “Truth big Zeke!  You ignore the truth!  You…”

“I don’t want to hear this crap Lyam, boys let’s go!”

Ezekiel attempts to get the boys towards the van, Lyam coughs and spits, “Fact is you ignored your boy was jealous his own flesh and blood sister Maureen was in love with my niece Ria!  You didn’t approve, he didn’t approve!  He got the girls drunk, once Mo was asleep he gave Ria the business!  Took her virginity Zeke!  Took her virginity!”  Lyam is hoarse yelling.

Kevin spots his father’s eyes tearing up, unsure what to say or do to help.  They are all in a state of confusion as the elder Winkleman has dropped a megaton bomb on them.  Ezekiel leans against the van, gasping for air.  Kevin goes to his aid, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Yo, this is jacked up Kev.”  Quinton is gripping his fists.

“Took her virginity Zekey!  You hear me?  That lovechild is on your hands sir!  Your responsibility and I’m here to make you pay!  I bet that bottle of scotch was yours too.  The great Ezekiel Woods Sr. about to fold!”

Ezekiel is half crying, gasping for air as Kevin comforts him clumsily.  Quinton grabs Zach and heads back towards them.  He looks towards his son, “Your brother is a good son, he made a mistake.  He knows it’s never right to take advantage of a woman, never son.  He’s been paying for it ever since, why he got into law.  To make a difference, help people.  He’s just getting started, he should not have to pay like this.  All of you have been the best, why I worked so hard.”   Kevin takes his hand and he squeezes it.

“You can sugarcoat it all you want Zeke, that’s considered date rape and you didn’t handle it!”  Lyam is bellowing over the boys getting hyped up.

“Date rape?  Didn’t some model accuse the Cos of that?  That didn’t go anywhere.  He got away with it, lil Zeke can.”  Zach quips.

Everybody goes silent and looks at him in shock and dismay.

“Um, no?”

Kevin hits his friend in the jaw himself.  “Damn Kev!  What the hell?”

“See Zekey!  Your own child is disgusted!  Face the facts old man, your offspring, your pride and joy buried you!  You’re finished!  Your restaurant is done!  I own you!  Mark my words!”

“I don’t like them disrespecting you Mr. Woods!  Got me messed up!”  Quinton pushes between the men, the taller man punches him hard in the stomach.  Quinton groans and doubles over.  Gathering his strength Quinton punches at the man, Lydell punches at Quinton, Zach pushes him as a fight ensues.

“Boys!  Boys!  Stop it!  Stop it!”  The elder Woods crackles trying to step forward weakly to them.  Lyam grins wide watching the quarl ensue.  Sirens are heard in the background.

Zach hits the ground with a swollen lip as Kevin tries to head into the melee, Ezekiel grabs his arm.  “No son…not your fight.”  He looks past Kevin, towards the lone tree at the back of the lot, his eyes go wide like he sees a ghost.

“Dad, dad! What are you looking at?”  Kevin attempts to hold his father up who slumps against the van, his face frozen.

“…Nain Rouge…Nain Rouge.” He mutters barely audible.

“What?  What?”

Ezekiel looks up towards his son and mouths out “I Love you” before slumping behind the vehicle.

“Dad!  No no!”  His father is unresponsive.

“What the hell?”  Quinton rushes back to them as Lyam snickers, motions for his son and men to leave.

“Time to move boys.  He gets what he deserves.”

“Hey Kev, I’ll be back to holla at you and lil Zeke.”  Lydell winks at them before they start their van and high tell it out of there before Detroit police arrive.

Kevin sobs on his lifeless father as Quinton punches the side of the van.  Zach looks in shock nursing his lip, “Hey any of you hear someone laughing?  That’s jacked up.”

Police and an ambulance arrive as the boys watch over the lifeless Ezekiel Woods Sr.

Present day:

Kwame Woods sobs as he holds his mother’s hand in the hospital bed.  The only sounds are the quiet hum of the equipment keeping her alive.

“Listen to the rhyme, it’s a black date fact

Percentile rate of date rape is fat

This is all true to the reason of the skeezing

You got the right picking but you’re in the wrong season

If you’re in the wrong season, that means you gotta break

Especially if a squad tries to cry out rape”

A Tribe Called Quest * The Infamous Date Rape

“My mom sent me to the store with a food stamp

For a pack of cigarettes and a book at the newsstand (here)

Two dudes ran up, jumped out of a blue van

I looked down at the ground and picked up a huge branch

I swung it at the first dude, the other one with him

So he tried to rush, I swept his legs pinned him and bit him

He came back with six or seven dudes screaming “Get Him!”

Eminem * ‘Food Stamp’

Detroit – Ten years earlier:

Kevin Woods saunters with effortless swag, quickly crisscrossing the potholes of Seven Mile, bobbing his starter row of mini-twists head in sync to Kanye West booming on his bubulous Sony headphones. Even though he’s on foot he shines in his black Adidas hoodie, velvet sweats, thick white gold chain with classic black and white shell toes.  Kevin is in a zone rapping and air drumming along with Mr. West, “I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny, and what I do?  Act more stupidly, bought more jewelry, more Louie V, my Mama couldn’t get through to me…”

“A yo K- Swizzle!”  A familiar voice booms from down the street by the gun shop, it’s his boy Zach walking towards him on the opposite side of the street with homie Quinton.

“A yo homies!”  Kevin yells back as Quinton gives him the finger salute, Kevin replies the same.  They make motions to head towards each other.

“This dude…” Kevin snickers to himself watching Zach lose his sagging pants while attempting to cross the street.

A blue van encroaches behind the distracted Kevin as he watches Zach stumbling on his pants cuffs.

Kevin snickers “Ahh you can’t even walk N…”  The van startles him, cuts him off as two dudes jump out.  “What the?”  Rushing towards him Kevin backpedals and grabs a nearby tree branch, he swings at the first dude than the second.  Ducking and rolling the man springs back up and rushes again, he swings at his legs tripping him and pinning him on the ground.   Dude is still swinging as Kevin finds himself biting him to subdue him.  The man screams as his boy pushes Kevin off.

“Yo Kev what the heck!  Yo!” Quinton and Zach are rushing up as the unknown men scramble into the van.  They are barely inside the van as the driver steps on the gas spurting up gravel to escape.  Quinton exchanges a few blows with an attacker dangling outside the sliding van door before they bounce out into the street and gets away.

“We’ll be back Woods!”  The man yells out as they disappear in traffic.

Quinton brushes himself off angrily as he scowls at traffic, “For real yo, you know these fools? I’m gonna get my boy Jaquan and bust a cap in somebody!”

“Kev, who the hell was that man?  You in some type of trouble or something?”  Zach huffs surveying the scene of the crime.

“No, no, I have no idea, seriously yo, that was some illness for real.  All I know is Mama gave me the food stamp card to run to the corner store to get some milk, eggs, cheese and a crosswords puzzle book man, then I saw you dudes and bam it was a wrap.”

“You really had no idea?  Man that didn’t seem like a random jump nah mean.  They knew your name.”

“That’s that bull man, I’m getting my homies, we taking these fools out!”

“Quinton chill no need to escalate it man, we need to strategize and figure out things, I don’t like this yo,  I don’t like this crap at all!”

They head into the corner store as Kevin seeks out the requested items, Quinton continues bouncing around full of hyped up energy.

“And since when does the Woods family need food stamps anyways?”

“Since the auto plant shut down and everything around it, Zeke’s business has been dry!  Thought you knew!”

“Shut the front door, Woods family even feeling the effects of the Detroit shut down!  I remember the heyday of Zeke’s; bros were packed wall to wall waiting for that fried fish, collard greens, okra, chicken fried steak, pork ribs…”

“Black eyed peas, cornbread, gizzards, ham hocks, sweet potatoes…”

“You two are bringing back serious memories.  I miss those days, restaurant is struggling.  Dad is over Casstown having to pick up cheaper meat now!”

“Man, I’m getting hungry!  What were those ones, Ox jaws or something?”

“Pigs feet”  Quinton laughs, finally mellowing out.

“Yeech, I’m good on that and Chitterlings.”  Zach scrunches his nose.

“Cause you a redhead freckled face fool, you grew up on some escargot or something.  Don’t know nothin bout that down home food.”  Quinton jabs Zach.

“The swine rejects is what Master fed the slaves, establishing a new tradition injected into our DNA.”  Quinton makes a face at the serious Kevin.

“Oh hell no, isn’t that snails or something?”

“You tell me!”

“Bro, I grew up on Ramen noodles, mayo sandwiches and Kool-Aid just like ya’ll.  Trailer parks don’t have any escargot or whatever the hell that is!”

“Hmmm and that government cheese whew!  Obama needs to bring back that service right to the house, the cheese, the bread, milk, eggs, cereal.   Loved getting that joint’s right at the door!”  Quinton rubs his stomach.

“Fool, cause you was too lazy to run to the corner store to buy it!”  Kevin jabs him as they laugh.

“Hey though, that government cheese was the whip!  Last forever, cut a bit of mold off, keep eating!”  Zach injects.

“That doesn’t even sound right, probably was some type of experiment on us, probably injected with pesticides or something.  Gotta eat the right foods that mother nature intended for us, fresh, organic, from the earth, not all that preservatives, msg, stuff you can’t pronounce.”  Kevin gets serious on them.

“There you go with that conspiracy bull again Kevin, lighten up homie.  Like they would do something like that to us!”

Kevin and Zach both stare at Quinton deadpan.  He shrugs, “What?”

Tires squeal startling them as they exit the store, the van is back.

Kevin shakes his head, “Are you kidding me?”

Quinton moves towards the van fists up, “Bring it!”

The sliding door pops open and six or seven guys leap out, “Get him!”

“Awe hell no!”  Quinton backs into Kevin and Zach as the men rush them, they turn and run.  Men race behind them as the van squeals tires and follows in pursuit.  Quinton races behind a house, “Come on!”

The boys leap over a fence as sirens ring out in the neighborhood.  Kevin’s heart falls into his stomach as he hears a large commotion erupting from the next block.  The small trio scramble through brush and backyards avoiding Seven Mile.

“Yo man, I’m pisst, just bought these K-Swiss.”  Quinton grumbles as they peer over another fence.  “I’ll just have to throw these out, grass stains are murderous.”

“Seriously though?  What size you wear man?  I’ll take them!”  Zach pleads.

“Guys… back to the present?  We have cops and unknown assailants battling it out and we don’t know which way to go.”  Kevin shakes his head.

“Bruh, you have unknown assailants tracking you down like an Eminem song.  Not us, you.  We innocent accomplices.  Dudes in a blue van, what the…”  Zach pulls out a blunt listening to Quinton rattle on before pausing.  “Bruh, did you really just pull out a blunt?”

“Dude, this was getting old, we just ran like a mile or something down Seven mile.  I got some type of sticky plant things on my socks, think I cut my leg, I’m tired, hungry, time for a smoke.”

Quinton shakes his head before reaching out, “Bruh, don’t be stingy.”

“You two are unbelieveable.”

“Hey, what you boys doing in my lawn crushing my baby’s flowers?”  A booming voice rings out with the click of a gun.

“Let’s go!”

*******************************************************

Casstown

Ezekiel Sr. is loading his van from the supply store, it’s almost completely full as the sun is starting to set casting shadows.  He’s wedging a carton of flour into the cramped space when something startles him scurrying about in the parking lot.  He looks around, shakes it off and keeps packing.  It rolls underneath a car.

“What the?  Who’s there, what is that?”

He hears something like a child snickering.  He looks under the cars, down the lot, doesn’t see anything.  He goes back to packing.

There is a laugh in the shadows.  He looks around, “Who’s there?  Show yourself!”  He grumbles and slams the door.  “Damn kids.”

He pulls out his keys when something flashes by the lone tree behind the lot.  Squinting he peers towards the tree as something seems to be standing beside it.   It moves, laughs at him.  It seems to be a little man, taunting, mocking him

“Who are you, what do you want?”

The little man stands a bit more erect, he seems to have horns and long fingernails.  His little arm shakes, he rears a pointy nail towards Ezekiel.  He speaks but is barely audible.

“Hey man, I don’t know what you’re on but I don’t want any trouble.  I’m going to go now.”  Ezekiel heads for his door when a huge rock dents into his door.  He wheels around at the little imp, he seems bigger.  “Hey, what’s the deal man!  Who’s going to pay for that?”

“Loser” The imp mutters.

“What you call me?”

“Loser!”  He throws another rock bashing through the window of the van.

“Damn it!”  Ezekiel slings a rock back as the imp laughs, his eyes glow.    Ezekiah ends up throwing his keys.

“Dad!”  Ezekiel practically swings on Kevin.

“Kevin, what, what the heck, don’t do that.  Where did you come from?  Why are you here?”

“Mr. Woods, they after us, I don’t know what’s happening, we…” Zach pants, gasps.

“Slow down son, what is happening?”

“Dad, I don’t know who they are but somebody came at us.  They called me out, tried to rush me, came twice.  Second time they came back with more people.”

“Wait son, who is they?  What did you do?”

“Nothing, I don’t know dad.  Think it has something to do with the restaurant, seriously.”

Ezekiel looks at him curiously, remembers his keys and the encounter.  Looks back towards the back of the lot.

“Mr. Woods, what’s wrong, what are you looking at?”  Quinton asks.

“I don’t know, it’s not there now.  I need to find my keys, help me find them and I’ll take you boys home and figure this out.”

“Dad, what happened to your window?  Seriously, do we have the insurance for that?”

“Long story.  Let’s get the hell out of here.  Come on guys.”  They start to head towards the back of the lot.  Tires squeal and they turn to face blinding lights of a vehicle.  It’s the blue van.  The doors open as they stand behind Ezekiel Sr.

“Well, well, the Woods clan and esteemed guests.  Glad can gather everybody together in this fine location.”

“Lyam Winkelman, my goodness, what do you want?”  Ezekiel groans.

“That Lydell’s dad?”  Kevin whispers to his dad, Ezekiel nods and gives him the hand.

“Big Zeke, got your little man with you.  Where’s that punk little Zeke?  You know the Woods clan owes me huge for what he did.”

“Listen Lyam, drop it, you have no evidence.  This is ridiculous!  We owe you nothing!”

“Dad, what, what is he talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know, Uncle Kevin?”

“Lyam, drop it.  Listen, you and me know each other from the ol’ Ford assembly lines, working side by side, day in and day out.  We was on the same picket lines, working with the unions.  Our children grew up together.  Bro, we was family man.  Why are you doing this?”

Lyam steps forward, Lydell and two other men flanking him.  Lyam coughs up phlegm, covers his mouth with a handkerchief.  He spits on the ground.  Lydell whispers in his ear and Lyam shakes his head, “Screw that, listen Woods, $50k or everybody knows the foulness of your promising scholar discretions.  We’re going to be back every damn day causing havoc on everybody in your family until you pay.  Zeke’s Kitchen is done.  I own it now.”

“Dad what the hell is he talking about?”  Kevin jerks forward, Lyam’s men get in front.  Quinton and Zach push forward.

“Boys calm down, we’re not adding to Detroit’s violence tonight.  Mr. Winkleman and I will get this matter taken care of like gentlemen.”

“We’ll handle it by the Woods clan paying for Jr. sowing his seeds in my niece and running like a bitch damn it!”

“Sow his seed?  Dad?  What is he insinuating?”

“Ohh Lil Zeke got a kid?”  Zach blurts out.  Quinton jabs him in the gut.

“Not valid Zachary, he’s talking out the side of his neck.  Lyam lies…”

Lydell has to practically hold his father back “Truth big Zeke!  You ignore the truth!  You…”

“I don’t want to hear this crap Lyam, boys let’s go!”

Ezekiel attempts to get the boys towards the van, Lyam coughs and spits, “Fact is you ignored your boy was jealous his own flesh and blood sister Maureen was in love with my niece Ria!  You didn’t approve, he didn’t approve!  He got the girls drunk, once Mo was asleep he gave Ria the business!  Took her virginity Zeke!  Took her virginity!”  Lyam is hoarse yelling.

Kevin spots his father’s eyes tearing up, unsure what to say or do to help.  They are all in a state of confusion as the elder Winkleman has dropped a megaton bomb on them.  Ezekiel leans against the van, gasping for air.  Kevin goes to his aid, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Yo, this is jacked up Kev.”  Quinton is gripping his fists.

“Took her virginity Zekey!  You hear me?  That lovechild is on your hands sir!  Your responsibility and I’m here to make you pay!  I bet that bottle of scotch was yours too.  The great Ezekiel Woods Sr. about to fold!”

Ezekiel is half crying, gasping for air as Kevin comforts him clumsily.  Quinton grabs Zach and heads back towards them.  He looks towards his son, “Your brother is a good son, he made a mistake.  He knows it’s never right to take advantage of a woman, never son.  He’s been paying for it ever since, why he got into law.  To make a difference, help people.  He’s just getting started, he should not have to pay like this.  All of you have been the best, why I worked so hard.”   Kevin takes his hand and he squeezes it.

“You can sugarcoat it all you want Zeke, that’s considered date rape and you didn’t handle it!”  Lyam is bellowing over the boys getting hyped up.

“Date rape?  Didn’t some model accuse the Cos of that?  That didn’t go anywhere.  He got away with it, lil Zeke can.”  Zach quips.

Everybody goes silent and looks at him in shock and dismay.

“Um, no?”

Kevin hits his friend in the jaw himself.  “Damn Kev!  What the hell?”

“See Zekey!  Your own child is disgusted!  Face the facts old man, your offspring, your pride and joy buried you!  You’re finished!  Your restaurant is done!  I own you!  Mark my words!”

“I don’t like them disrespecting you Mr. Woods!  Got me messed up!”  Quinton pushes between the men, the taller man punches him hard in the stomach.  Quinton groans and doubles over.  Gathering his strength Quinton punches at the man, Lydell punches at Quinton, Zach pushes him as a fight ensues.

“Boys!  Boys!  Stop it!  Stop it!”  The elder Woods crackles trying to step forward weakly to them.  Lyam grins wide watching the quarl ensue.  Sirens are heard in the background.

Zach hits the ground with a swollen lip as Kevin tries to head into the melee, Ezekiel grabs his arm.  “No son…not your fight.”  He looks past Kevin, towards the lone tree at the back of the lot, his eyes go wide like he sees a ghost.

“Dad, dad! What are you looking at?”  Kevin attempts to hold his father up who slumps against the van, his face frozen.

“…Nain Rouge…Nain Rouge.” He mutters barely audible.

“What?  What?”

Ezekiel looks up towards his son and mouths out “I Love you” before slumping behind the vehicle.

“Dad!  No no!”  His father is unresponsive.

“What the hell?”  Quinton rushes back to them as Lyam snickers, motions for his son and men to leave.

“Time to move boys.  He gets what he deserves.”

“Hey Kev, I’ll be back to holla at you and lil Zeke.”  Lydell winks at them before they start their van and high tell it out of there before Detroit police arrive.

Kevin sobs on his lifeless father as Quinton punches the side of the van.  Zach looks in shock nursing his lip, “Hey any of you hear someone laughing?  That’s jacked up.”

Police and an ambulance arrive as the boys watch over the lifeless Ezekiel Woods Sr.

Present day:

Kwame Woods sobs as he holds his mother’s hand in the hospital bed.  The only sounds are the quiet hum of the equipment keeping her alive.

“Listen to the rhyme, it’s a black date fact

Percentile rate of date rape is fat

This is all true to the reason of the skeezing

You got the right picking but you’re in the wrong season

If you’re in the wrong season, that means you gotta break

Especially if a squad tries to cry out rape”

A Tribe Called Quest * The Infamous Date Rape

Man, selling stories from scratch is definitely a challenge.  Untested, unknown, unproven, lots of un’s come to mind when you’re an amateur unpublished author.  So, yeah – been writing for a number of years, polished my craft, studied in class.  My mind is obviously full of tales, been swimming around formulating since my single digits.  I published my own artist/writing mag with a group of friends called WBIZ (for The Biz) way back in junior high.  I posted in high school and college publications.  I wrote for daily’s in my neighborhood.  Inspirations for stories may come from the most oddball of locations, the challenge is to build on that spark.

True, a mystery typewriter did show up on my mother’s porch way back in the 1990’s back in college.  I ran with it, I made it happen.  I started writing my hearts content on that old machine, graduated to an early Macintosh, kept it moving.

My early inspiration was always, ‘let’s make a movie’.  Most of my manuscripts started as screenplays.  I studied film briefly in college but couldn’t match their grad-point average of a B or above.  I love film, my passion still is to complete one no matter the obstacle.  So, most of my manuscripts are also screenplays, hint hint; producers take note.  My passion lies in the writing but I do have video and editing skills. With a bit of investment we can make an indie.

Road Kill began early in 1995 when I was just in my 20’s myself.  Urban gangsta fiction as we know it today was just in it’s infancy.  I was more influenced by Spike Lee, F. Gary Gray, New Jack City, Boyz N the Hood, Menace to Society.  Another huge influence was the great American road trip full of mayhem films such as Thelma and Louise, Natural Born Killers, Freeway and a lil’ nod to Quentin Tarantino.  I read a great book called Makes Me Wanna Holla by Nathan McCall and also Malcom X by Alex Haley.  My principals Rashon and Jaymon are by products of 90’s influences, coming of age, personal experiences.

Music is always a great influence in all of my writing, moving eloquently as the complexities of jazz and the snap of hip-hop.  Public Enemy, A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Gangstarr, Pete Rock & CL Smooth, Beastie Boys, EPMD, Nice & Smooth, Outkast, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, Eminem, Nas, Mos Def, The Roots, Heavy D and the Boyz, Notorious Big, Bob Marley, Chaka Demus, Shabba Ranks, Buju Banton, the great R&B groups of yore are the pulse of my craft.   The subtitle Pathfinder (the ying to the yang of Road Kill) is itself inspired by the lyrics from a good friend of mine’s opus called the one and the same.  Bahiy Shabazz and his band the Kommandoz with Organic Groove Continuum rocked hip-hop funk eloquently in the late 90’s early 2000’s in Southwest Ohio.  An updated version of Pathfinder is currently being found for a video marketing tool for Road Kill.  Kommandoz was an awesome group and experience and needs to be discovered by the world!

I wrote many, many drafts, had different titles such as Blue Zigzags, By the Time I get to Arizona, the Road.  My writing grew tremendously, from amateurish to polished.  I started my family drama Eat@Zeke’s on deck to be published next, seen in installments on Wattpad and Readwave.com.  I have several screenplays I’m shopping such as the comedy ‘Keep Calm’ and horror/action ‘Blur’ seen on film sites Stage32, Juntobox and Triggerstreet.com.  I’m also shopping several television screenplays such as ‘The Doc is In’ and reality show ‘Man Up’.  All of my links can be found on my page on https://about.me/christopher.j88.  Trust, I have many styles upon styles of genres.

I wrote so much my partners AMB aka Aija Monique and Shaunta Kennerly Presents said Road Kill was way too long, now it’s a series.  Road Kill (Pathfinder Vol#) is out officially, finally on Amazon.com and coming soon to Barnes and Noble and Books a Million.  Hopefully also to a book store near you.  Right now, Spring 2015 it’s $1.99 for the Kindle and of course $0 for the Kindle Unlimited.  Paperback is $6.99.

Having a book finally published is a dream come true, I want to hold the actual paperback in my hand like one of my children when they were newborn.  It’s all my fantasy and hard work wrapped up in a present to the world.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be as huge as say Alex Haley or Stephanie Meyers.  I would love to be even halfway there – I always admired an old neighbor of mine from the great utopia of Yellow Springs, Virginia Hamilton.   She started early but had an outstanding career, who knows, I may get there.  I desire a steady fanbase but also scares the crap out of me.

I love the indie book culture the internet has birthed, met a lot of fine folks on here all pursuing similar dreams, some successfully, some not.  Huge shout outs to authors Sidda Lee Rain, Layne Weiss, Faboila Joseph, Brittni Hill, Chet Robinson, Errol Wright, Valerie Coleman, Katrina Kittle and the many others I’ve connected with out here doing the damn thing.  Least we doing it. We all only have one shot, why not go for it?  Buy mine I buy yours lol.  Let’s go!

If you’ve stumbled on my fresh Road Kill and it looks intriguing, please give it a whirl, buy and tell a friend, actually buy several for your friends!   Reviews good or bad welcome!  I have children who need college funding and I want to make more books!  Support your starving artists!  Love and appreciate you guys and keep reading!   BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY :D

I PRESENT TO YOU:  ROAD KILL (Pathfinder #1)

Estranged brothers, forced to flee together w/only quarter of gas, chips & a bag of weed. Destination; to grow up.

Warning** Road Kill is a rated R ‘street urban drama’ so it’s not suitable for innocent readers. I wrote it as realistically as possible for the audience but all in all the strength is in the story!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XQQYLSC

Often times it’s not enough to be just us

We is the new I

We pimp dark shades, just to see;

The justice. (Tagline)

Tragedy has the unmistakable task of finding you at your most vulnerable moment.

Two adolescent brothers’ lives are forever shattered by the untimely murder of their beloved mother at the hands of their disgruntled father who had accused her of an affair.

Fate takes the brothers on two separate, distinctive paths, forever shaping them to who they are as young men. When their paths rejoins thirteen years later, Rashon Turner is now a city dweller while Jaymon Turner lives a small town life, inspired in part by Aesop’s tale of City Mouse, Country Mouse.

Rashon is classified as an urban statistic, a young streetwise deviant, black and dangerous, ex-con on the run searching for some type of solstice.

Jaymon, once promising; is a silent statistic, an atypical lackadaisical youth lost and confused, disaffected “baby boy” attempting to find his path in life.

Two separate; but life-changing parallel accidents crashes both of their lives right back in tandem with catastrophic results.

Pushed by the law and dark forces wanting to crush their very existence, fate once again pushes two desperate young men on a bumpy but exciting new path to clear their names and find deeper meaning in their lives.

FIRST IN A FOUR PART SERIES.

The huge fire lights up the Detroit night sky full of crimson red, amber orange, vibrant yellow, and brilliant blue.

Flashing red and blue lights race through the dark city streets in-route fueling hope to quell the towering blaze.  The lights cast ominous shadows as they bounce inside previous burnt out shells of the cities former glorious neighborhoods.  Waffling black smoke dances in the strobe-lights creeping up to the full  moon.

Zeke’s Kitchen was burning.

Local residents wander out of their homes dumbfounded, flabbergasted in pajamas and robes as they soak up the scene.  Standing, starring, perplexed, in disbelief of what they are witnessing.

An elderly woman, a Zeke’s patron for over thirty years pulls her shawl over her neck.  She stands near a younger family.  The younger boy notices a single tear on her cheek.

She takes a deep breath, exhales, “Smells like waffles.”

“I smell sweet potato pie, or maybe its candied yams.  Its no matter.”  Another man inhales.

A woman slows down in her car, “Oh my goodness, I can taste the cheesiest mac and cheese.  I want some.”

Tyrone Hill stumbles out of his hole, he drops a liquor bottle and falls to his knees, he places his hat over his chest.  Taking a deep breath he starts to sing,

“The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky

Or also on the faces of people going by

I see friends shaking hands, saying “How do you do?”

They’re really saying, I love you

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow

They’ll learn much more and I’ll never know

And I think to myself

What a wonderful life…”

(Louis Armstrong)

The swelling crowd stays quiet listening to the stirring but odd a capella rendition.

“Mmmmm collard greens, black eyed peas.  Oh, I’m weak fellas.”  Fire chief Brian Scott emblazoned on his coat groans stepping out of his cab.  “Let’s put this blaze out now men!  Save the food!”

“Man, this was the food we had at my wedding you D’jayed at Chief.  We have to save this joint!  This isn’t one of the left behinds.”  His second in command sighs as he attaches the hoses.

“Let’s use the good equipment, we can’t hold back for this one no matter the costs.  The city council can kiss my butt!  Let’s go!”

“We’ll just add it to the bankruptcy!”

They smile and both show their wristbands of “Eat@Zekes nodding in agreement before rushing towards the blaze with their team.

The shameless food cart operators arrive actually opening their business for the growing crowd.

Embers dance and spiral into the night sky floating upwards as the city mourns another lost icon.  Somewhere a little devilish imp chuckles and skips away into the mist gleefully.

Fox Theatre

Silvia bumps between people in the crowded theatre making her way to her seat.  Her cell is buzzing consistently but she can’t answer it quick enough.  Utopia and Sasha await in their aisle.  Utopia sits distant, distraught, quiet as Sasha attempts to cheer her up.

“Utopia, really, what’s up?  You’ve  been quiet since we picked you up.  What happened since the last time we talked?”

 Utopia shrugs, “Don’t worry about it.  Enjoy the show, Black Milk is on next.”

 Silvia squeezes by, her phone still erupting.  “Is Mo back?”

 “Get your cell, nothing more annoying than somebody ignoring important information.”  Utopia snarls.

 “Girl, what’s eating you?  I’ll get it dang.”

 “She got something up her butt, I don’t know, she’s been like this all evening.”

 “Stop riding my back Sasha, jeez.  Sil, why did you and Mo want to come here so badly for anyway?  You – you’re more a Maxwell, Kem type and Maureen is ol’ school.”

 “You are foul tonight lil’ Miss.  And I’m down with Black Milk, Slum, Dilla, Apollo and Guilty, Common, Lupe, Kid Cudi.  In fact, we may be meeting a special member of Kommandoz tonight.”

 “Oh really, how you figure?  You a groupie now or something?  I know you’re not being a thot, mama would awake from her coma.”

 “Hey watch it young miss.  Mama is not in any coma.  What’s your deal?” Maureen arrives with drinks.  Silvia finally answers her cell.

 Sasha shakes her head as she takes her drink, “Some message she received today got her all in her feelings.”

 “Watch the show, lights are dimming.”  Utopia bites.

 Silvia drops her cell in the dark.  The girls look at her concerned as she shakes.  Black Milk is starting his show but they don’t hear him.  The bass vibrates through them, flipping their stomachs.

 Maureen grabs her arm, “Sil, what’s the deal?”

 Trembling Silvia picks the cell back up, covers her ear, “What, say that again?  I don’t understand, I was just there.  I just checked up on the restaurant made sure everything was okay after the protest.  We was just there.”

 Maureen looks into her eye pleading, “Silvia, what is happening?  I can barely hear anything.”

 Silvia puts up her finger,  “This was after everybody had left?  Somebody got shot running away from the scene?  Do they know who it was?  This is too much.”

Sasha and Utopia look on concerned now, “What the what is happening Silvia?”

 Silvia sighs, shuts off her cell, rubs her face before turning to them, tears continue to flow,  “Zeke’s is on fire.  Our restaurant is on fire.”  The eccentric hard bass snaps back in as the four of them are lost in their own world.

Detroit City Distillery

Theodore and Marty Simon cheer with a bottle of Detroit City Vodka along with City Commissioner Marisol Banter at a secluded booth in the corner.  Outside a familiar BMW  arrives.

 Ezekiel walks past a live newsreel of the restaurant burning as he joins his partners.  “Adidos partners, heard we have a breakthrough with the development deal.   Ms. Banter good to see you again.”  Ezekiel kisses her hand and winks at her.

 “Likewise”  She blushes, the men look as if there is more to the wink and the smile.

 “Word has it your mother is out of the Woods.”  Theodore quips as Ezekiel squints his eyes at him.  Marty shakes his head.

 “My mother is still in a doctor induced coma mind you Mr. Simon, I have no need and no mood for your lackadaisical stabs at humor especially where it concerns my family.”  Ezekiel stares Theodore right in the eye making his elder partner squirm.

 The waitress brings Ezekiel a glass as Theodore stutters an uncomfortable apology, “Well, no need to get snotty ol’ boy.  Was genuinely concerned about your mother is all.  No harm.”

 “No worries Theodore ol’ boy.”  Ezekiel gives him a smirk as they raise their glasses in toast.

 Marty sighs a sigh of relief, elated to avoid a potential heated meltdown, “To new development and new beginnings, Ezekiel without your knowledge and research this project wouldn’t have seen the light of day.  Kudos my esteemed partner, you’ve done Detroit proud.”

 Ezekiel swishes the local concoction and grins, “Thank you Marty, I’m just a small pawn in the game.  Just looking to elevate our small fledgling partnership with our quality clients.”  He raises his glass towards Ms. Banter, she smiles.

 “To you and yours Zekey.”  The Simon brothers eye each other curiously mouthing ‘Zekey?’  She continues, “The city is grateful your firm has been instrumental in clearing up red tape and opening up new opportunities.  Its such necessary baby steps to bring back the city.”  They tap and sip, she brushes his foot with his.  “And bringing back fond memories.”  She smiles at him.  “Speaking of which isn’t Mo in town?  Hows that working out for you?”  She pauses as she senses his losing interest, she adds, “Does she know she’s here?”   He snaps his head glaring at her, nostrils flaring.

 Theodore perks up, “Well, Zekey boy, you ready to meet our silent partner?  Tonight’s the night we’ve talked about.  He just informed me he’s here.”

 “Theodore, we’ve been partners now seven years, you may call me Mr. Woods.”

 Theodore slants his eyes not expecting that response, he glances over at Marisol who shrugs nonchalantly.  Marty raises his glass, “Been a long time coming Ezekiel but since the recent victory of our success our silent partner agreed to finally meet with us tonight.  He’s been very instrumental in acquiring data and more importantly the funding to assist the partners purchasing parcels and making the project come to life!”

 Ezekiel finally breaks his gaze at Theodore and Marisol, wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks around, “Okay, I’m game, been curious about this connection for months.  We needed funding, he came through.  Who can we thank for this?”

 “Me fool, P.I.M.P. I told you I was going to collect on that old blood arrangement one day.  You welcome.”  Lydell Winkleman leans on his cane directly behind him smirking.

 Ezekiel almost spits out his vodka.  He sits up glaring at Lydell then his partners, “Surely you’re kidding me?  This is some type of prank?  Am I on punked?”

 Theo and Marty look perplexed, “Ezekiel, Mr. Winkleman comes highly recommended, an astute businessman.  Was able to make many negotiations right for us.”

 “And of course he insisted on keeping it in secrecy.”  Ezekiel shakes his head.

 “Zekey ol’ boy, said you two went to school together.  Played on the same teams.  Figured you’d be okay.”  Theo quips making the situation worse.

 “Ezekiel, you know Lydell has worked with the planning commission, he’s very instrumental in the city’s redevelopment.  I am surprised of your tone.”  Marisol looks on seriously.

 “This is absurd.  Obviously my partners blinders are strong.  This poses a serious dilemma!  What seriously did you foresee the outcome of this collaboration?”

 Lydell brushes his pointy goatee, smirks as he glances over to the television and back, “Payback’s a bitch isn’t it Zekey?  Oh gentrification doesn’t necessarily have to be an evil word, but in the hands of the hood’s chosen son its going to be quite ugly isn’t it?”

 Marisol follows Lydell’s gaze to the breaking news events, she gasps.  “Oh my goodness, Ezekiel isn’t that your mother’s restaurant?”

 Ezekiel breaks his gaze from Lydell, his eyes resting on the live news report from the burning restaurant.  Mouth agape, he is truly shook, wobbly, he was standing, he now has to sit.  Lydell cackles in the background ominously.

Fox Theatre

The hip-hop band Kommandoz are going through an energetic set that includes ukuleles, rattle shakers, sombras, rattlers, bonjo’s and more as the the eclectic group wraps up their set.  The large ensemble rocks together in unison bringing their unique sound to life behind the energetic front men rapping to the groove.

Finishing off the set with one of their early reggae hybrid classics ‘Believer’; the vibe is relaxed, calm, the lights are dimmed, fans have their lighters and cell phones held high.

 Silvia and Maureen push their way towards the front eager to see if their intel about their long lost brother was correct.  Kevin Woods was already seen as the outcast of the family over ten years ago, running in and out of trouble, hanging with the wrong crowd, dropping out of high school, catching minor felonies, he was on his way to becoming a statistic, another lost fallen solider succumbing to the pressures of the mean streets.  Zeke Sr. had already shown him the front door disappointed in his young seed’s choices.  Mama always let him through the back door to get a sandwich or cop a nap.

 Things went to the head the night Zeke Sr. left this earth.  As he was all the way across the city in Casstown getting supplies for his restaurant, he was filling his truck with product when  allegedly he was jumped by juvenile delinquents.  Four young black teenagers were seen fleeing the scene as Zeke laid on the hard pavement clutching his heart.  While not proven shot or stabbed; alas he passed that evening.

 One young mans pants were so low he lost them behind a bush as he scaled a fence.  His school badge was in his pockets along with a 38’ revolver tucked in his waistband.  That teenager was Kevin’s best friend Kohn.   Shortly after Kevin was called into to be questioned he vanished from the Motor City.  Ezekiel Jr., his own older brother, declared his guilt and put a restraining order against him to ever return to his family home.  He even assisted the investigators in his search and recovery, not for the fam’s sake, for his persecution.  Nobody has heard from him since.

 Mama and his sisters have tried in vain to locate him, to update him that charges had been dropped, that he was cleared of any wrong doing.  They have failed continuously.  Now, a decade later Mama lies in the hospital, possibly on her death bed, the family reunited around her side, the fate of their beloved restaurant up in smoke.  All of sisters Silvia’s and Maureen’s  research, along with the surprise twist of Kevin Jr. living in their home city, has lead them to this hip-hop show at the Fox Theatre.

 As Silvia and Maureen flank the beefy security guard blocking the stage, their eyes gaze past the front men prancing back and forth, the plethora of musicians jamming their instruments, the smoke and dimness of the arena, to the lone drummer backing up the band in the back.  In the press this mans name is Kwame Da’Man, with a long strand of natty dreads bouncing over his eyes, a heavy chinstrap goatee complete with beaded point, tattooed out, older, filled out, in shape, he looked good.  This was not the same baby faced, naive, didn’t know a drumstick from a guitar pic Kevin they had last saw years ago with so much trouble on his mind.  But, their gut instincts all pointed that this indeed was Kevin.

 As the song fades and the group raises their fists in triumph they shout out, “Yo Detroit, get ready for your native sons “Slum Village!”  The crowd jumps into an uproar as T3, Illa J, the Young RJ are joined by honorary member Elizhi to break into rhyme.

 Elizhi calls out “Yo, What’s up Detroit!’ Much to the crowds delight.  “We want to start off the show giving mad props to a community institution and a favorite drop off stop of mine to get the one and only Collard Greens Pizza.”  The crowd whoops and holla’s knowing what restaurant he’s referring too.  “Zeke’s Kitchen Ya’ll.”  And they applaud in respect.

 “Me and the boys were going to stop by Zeke’s tonight after Dilla’s Delight’s to bash.”  People yell out ‘Dilla’ after mentioning the beloved supreme producer.  “Instead we found a standoff amongst a protest.”  The crowd goes silent as several concur they were there.   “It ended peacefully thanks to a divine intervention by God, thank goodness after so many similar recently haven’t.”  The crowd claps.  “Regrettably afterwards somebody caught the store on fire.”  The crowd gasps and there are people crying.   “We going to rock this set to our beloved hometown, Zeke’s Kitchen and Mama’s speedy recovery that she’ll be back to build.  We need our Soul, we need our soul food!”  They clap again in a roar as the backing band picks up the groove.

 As the members of Slum Village start to rock they notice a small but significant side-note happening to the left.  As their tour-mate, Kommandoz drummer Kwame stares dumbfounded, his eyes watery, his sticks drops, he’s blindsided staring face to face with his equally teary eyed lost family.

News report

A channel 7 news reporter interviews the oddest person on the street outside Zeke’s as Tyrone sings in the background.  Akee, the gas station manager next door smiles in the camera hawking fake gold from his store, “Yo, I hear explosion and felt the heat singe my goatee, I swear I smelt my favorite gizzards from Zeke’s burning!  I rushed out smelling burnt gizzards and my mouth dropped… It’s a shame, a tragic shame…”

Burnt Gizzards

��

The huge fire lights up the Detroit night sky full of crimson red, amber orange, vibrant yellow, and brilliant blue.

��

Flashing red and blue lights race through the dark city streets inroute hoping to quell the towering blaze. ��The lights cast ominous shadows as they bounce inside previous burnt out shells of the cities former glorious neighborhoods. ��Waffing black smoke dances in the strobelights creeping up to the full ��moon.

��

Zeke���s Kitchen was burning.

��

Local residents wander out of their homes dumbfounded, flabbergasted in pajamas and robes as they soak up the scene. ��Standing, starring, perplexed, in disbelief of what they are witnessing.

��

An elderly woman, a Zeke���s patron for over thirty years pulls her shawl over her neck. ��She stands near a younger family. ��The younger boy notices a single tear on her cheek.

��

She takes a deep breath, exhales, ���Smells like waffles.���

��

���I smell sweet potato pie, or maybe its candied yams. ��Its no matter.��� ��Another man inhales.

��

A woman slows down in her car, ���Oh my goodness, I can taste the cheesiest mac and cheese. ��I want some.���

��

���Mmmmm collard greens, black eyed peas. ��Oh, I���m weak fellas.��� ��Fire chief Brian Scott emblazoned on his coat groans stepping out of his cab. �����Let���s put this blaze out now men! ��Save the food!���

��

���Man, this was the food we had at my wedding you D���jayed at Chief. ��We have to save this joint! ��This isn���t one of the left behinds.��� ��His second in command sighs as he attaches the hoses.

��

���Let���s use the good equipment, we can���t hold back for this one no matter the costs. ��The city council can kiss my butt! ��Let���s go!���

��

���We���ll just add it to the bankruptcy!���

��

They smile and both show their wristbands of ���Eat@Zekes and nod in agreement before rushing towards the blaze with their team.

��

The shameless food cart operators arrive actually opening their business for the growing crowd.

��

Embers dance and spiral into the night sky floating upwards as the city mourns another lost icon. ��Somewhere a little devilish imp chuckles and skips away into the mist gleefully.

��

Fox Theatre

��

Silvia bumps between people in the crowded theatre making her way to her seat. ��Her cell is buzzing consistently but she can���t answer it quick enough. ��Utopia and Sasha await in their aisle. ��Utopia sits distant, distraught, quiet as Sasha attempts to cheer her up.

��

���Utopia, really, what���s up? ��You���ve ��been quiet since we picked you up. ��What happened since the last time we talked?���

��

Utopia shrugs, ���Don���t worry about it. ��Enjoy the show, Elzhi is on next.���

��

Silvia squeezes by, her phone still erupting. �����Is Mo back?���

��

���Get your cell, nothing more annoying than somebody ignoring important information.��� ��Utopia snarls.

��

���Girl, what���s eating you? ��I���ll get it dang.���

��

���She got something up her butt, I don���t know, she���s been like this all evening.���

��

���Stop riding my back Sasha, jeez. ��Sil, why did you and Mo want to come here so badly for anyway? ��You – you���re more a Maxwell type and Maureen is ol��� school.���

��

���You are foul tonight lil��� Miss. ��And I���m down with Black Milk, Slum, Dilla, Apollo and Guilty, Common, Lupe, Kid Cudi. ��In fact, we may be meeting a special member of Kommandoz tonight.���

��

���Oh really, how you figure? ��You a groupie now or something? ��I know you���re not being a thot, mama would awake from her coma.���

��

���Hey watch it young miss. ��Mama is not in any coma. ��What���s your deal?��� Maureen arrives with drinks. ��Silvia finally answers her cell.

��

Sasha shakes her head as she takes her drink, ���Some message she received today got her all in her feelings.���

��

���Watch the show, lights are dimming.��� ��Utopia bites.���

��

Silvia drops her cell in the dark. ��The girls look at her concerned as she shakes. ��Elzhi is starting his show but they don���t hear him. ��The bass vibrates through them, flipping their stomachs.

Maureen grabs her arm, ���Sil, what���s the deal?���

��

Trembling Silvia picks the cell back up, covers her ear, ���What, say that again? ��I don���t understand, I was just there. ��I just checked up on the restaurant made sure everything was okay after the protest. ��We was just there.���

��

Maureen looks into her eye pleading, ���Silvia, what is happening? ��I can barely hear anything.���

��

Silvia puts up her finger, �����This was after everybody had left? ��Somebody got shot running away from the scene? ��Do they know who it was? ��This is too much.���

��

Sasha and Utopia look on concerned now, ���What the what is happening Silvia?���

��

Silvia sighs, shuts off her cell, rubs her face before turning to them, tears continue to flow, �����Zeke���s is on fire. ��Our restaurant is on fire.��� ��The hard bass snaps back in as the four of them are lost in their own world.

��

Detroit City Distillery

��

Marty and Theodore Simon cheer to a bottle of Detroit City Vodka in a secluded booth in the corner as outside a familiar BMW arrives.

��

Ezekiel walks past a live newsreel of the restaurant burning as he joins his partners.

If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.

Maya Angelou

���Get your flapjacks here!�� Get your flapjacks!��� Zeke���s Kitchen is seemingly back open, well sort of.�� The temporary vendors entice passer-bys with their tasty entrees, yelling specials of the day, seducing you with their delicious smells, large exciting visuals displays drawing you in.�� It���s a sight to see in route to work.

Still closed, Zeke���s Kitchen, the building, sits idle as the favorite west side restaurant has been overrun by barbeque pits, sandwich carts, hot dog stands, and the omnipresent food trucks.���� Friends, associates, and so called Zeke Fanatics are all lending their support and service in an unprecedented effort to ���Occupy Zekes��� in the famous restaurant time of peril.

By occupying the parking lot of the shuttered enterprise, the vendors are supporting the cause started by disgruntled patrons who learned their favorite cafe was closed by what they claim is a ���conspiracy.���

Their chants of ���Eat@Zeke���s���, ���Eat@Zeke���s, ���Eat@Zeke���s��� coupled with the parking lot frenzy has definitely caught the cities attention.

���Mama, that sweet dear woman is a legacy in this community.�� Mama and Zeke, I grew up craving their delicacies, the succulent yams, the fresh turnip greens������

���Turn it up!����� A kid yells.

���As I was saying, the Chicken Fried Steak, the Black Eyed Peas, Okra, collard greens, fried fish, heck even all the Pigs Feet, Ribs.�� Mama make them dripping off the bone so-so good��� What���s that?�� Am I worried about the fat content?�� Heck no, not with Mama, they hooked up their food lean, low fat.�� Trust Mama know how to cook!�� I���m trying to be slick like her!����� Carlton flips a flapjack, ���So you ordering from me?�� How much you want?������� Carlton chuckles and keeps working.

The crowd surrounding Zekes has swelled to capacity in an unprecedented show of support for a fallen local hero.�� It���s standing room only as the local neighborhood and Zeke���s fanatics have descended on the parking lot shouting, ���Eat@Zeke���s��� in unison.���� As officials were alerted to the burgeoning scene, it���s surprisingly a primary peaceful crowd with just the chants and sounds of vendors promoting their wares.���� A fitting testament to the woman who many think of as a surrogate mother.

���Be sure to get your nice watch, got your nice watch here!�� I know you want one, I know you do.����� Stephen yells from his cart.

���Occupy Zeke���s��� has morphed into a political movement as the peaceful protesters lamet against a political system they feel is designed for failure against small business owners, especially against African-Americans.

Operating for years in the backdrop of the auto industry, Zeke���s Kitchen thrived serving factory workers and the surrounding neighborhoods southern soul food delicacies.�� As many of the workers newly arrived in the north seeking work amidst the civil rights movement, a touch of home was highly appreciated.

Freddy Styles runs the nearby community center and is a long time family friend.�� ���See, the magnitude of the unification of all adopted parties, rallying in support against the unseen oppressor is a positive thing. ��By taking a systematic tranquil approach the people are taking a nod from the forefathers who worked the lunch counters, who skipped the bus, who marched on the capital, who laid the foundation, deep in the trenches, crawling under barbed wire, escaping mortar shells, plugging the bleeding holes with the bare of your thumb, spotting the slants of their eyes hiding in the brush������

���Sir, are you referring to the Vietnam War or Civil Rights movement?����� A puzzled lady asks.

Freddy scoffs, ponders over his mistake, ���I digress ma���am, it was a trying time of change for us all.�� Let us savor the current situation.���

���Savor?�� Savor this Diablo Dog!����� A vendor from Zombie Dogz hot dog food truck blurts out holding a huge turkey Diablo with all the fixings.

���Diablo Dog?�� A devil dog?�� The savior has been insulted!�� Where���s the justice for the king?����� An elderly passerby injects into the conversation.

���Hey bro its just food, man, chill.�� Just say your blessings before you eat and you���ll be alright.������� The vendor shakes his head.

Preacher Man from the local Heavenly Righteous Missionary Baptist church Mama attends suddenly appears and touches the food box, ���I pray in Jesus name the sanctity and blessings of this fine food presented to us on this fateful day, and for all the love and support given to Mama in her time of need.�� In his glorious name Amen!����� The vendor smirks and let���s the hungry preacher take the food.

The preacher takes one bite as he juggles a flapjack in his hand, he drops the hot dog onto the flapjack.�� He shrugs and wraps the dog in the flapjack.�� Hmm, tastes good.

���Preacher Man is eating the diablo!����� A passerby gasps.

���And I have rid it of all its evil misrepresentation, cleared it of its evil spirit, sanctified it in the glory of good to be consumed, by myself, in its entirety and its delicious.���

���I just saw lighting come out the preachers fingers cleansing that Diablo dog!����� A kid quips.

Curious folks bump Preacher Man trying to eat, he scoffs, ���Lord have mercy, folks, there is enough bounty to share, remember, we are here to support Ms. Woods!���

The crowd fills to capacity milling around the food trucks, curious to what is happening with Preacher Man.

Big Moe, Zach and Quinton Jones navigate the crowd as the larger gentleman is able to move through easier leaving his buddies able to follow in the wake.

Quinton stays on his iPhone navigating his daily hustle, Zach keeps close to his boys in the swelling crowd.���� ���Figure out what we going to eat?����� Zach asks anxiously.

���Why, you getting nervous white boy?��� Quinton smirks

���Naw bruh, I���m cool, my stomach is growling and its mad hot up in here, black folks sweating!���

Moe chuckles, ���It is hot and Moe is hungry!���

���They have that chicken and waffles cart set up Moe?����� Quinton can barely see overhead.

���Not confirmed Q, Moe needs food!���

���Yo Big M, why you talk about yourself in third person homie?����� Zach innocently ponders, Moe looks down at his hesitating friend, nostrils flared.

A curious child, maybe twelve reaches out through the swelling crowd, his mother distracted with his younger brothers and sisters.�� Almost being stepped on, feet trample around the generic styrofoam plate amongst the destroyed grass, his fingers stretch, fondle the edge of the recycled material, pulls it forward.�� He grips the flapjack and his eyes go wide as he pulls it to his face.�� The crowd pushes and pulls around him as he stands still, mesmerized, in a trance.

His mother Adanna finally notices, tugs at him, ���Ebele, come, it is getting too wild here, let us go.����� Her voice concerned, she from West Africa, her husband, a U.S. Soldier.

A woman glances over his shoulder, eyes go wide, she shrieks, ���It���s Jesus!�� It���s the savior in the flapjack!���

The immediate crowd surges forward, as gasps and shocked groans inspect the burnt dough.

A man shakes, yells out, ���Jesus is real!�� He has blessed Mama���s in the flapjack!���

The crowd surges again, Adanna concerned for her children as the open air grows dimmer.

���They saw Jesus in a flapjack!����� It was spreading.

���Jesus spoke from the flapjack!����� The word was getting twisted.

���The flapjack heals you!����� The gossip waned downhill.

���Heal me Jesus!����� Somebody reaches, another falls, the swelling murmur opens into a full fledged roar.

Adanna concerned the she is about to lose her children clings desperately on them as the crowd dessen’s into a pack of wolves reaching and grabbing for the flapcake.

As quickly as it became, the crowd suddenly parts like the red sea, the boy and his family are scooped up like pawns discarded after a bad chess game.

Big Moe bellows, ���Leave them alone!�� Big Moe got them!����� He moves them towards the side away from the following crowd.

���Ebele, leave the pancake, let somebody else carry it.����� Adanna looks down to where he was, he is gone.

���Where the lil��� dude go?����� Zach trips out.

���Ebele!�� No!�� Come back!����� His mother cries.

���There he go!�� He has Jesus!����� Somebody cries out.

���Get him!���

The frightened Ebele grips the flapjack and crashes into a cart flipping it over, angry storemen yell at him.�� The chase is on.

���People!�� Keep calm!�� This is nonsense!����� Freddy Styles yells over a loudspeaker as the crowd chases the boy.

Frightened, Ebele knocks over people and items in his haste as the local Detroit���s finest take notice.

Moe looks Adanna in her eye, ���I promise, I will retrieve your boy, what is his name?���

Her teeth chattering, ���Ebele���

���I will bring back Ebele I promise!����� Moe rears up to move through the crowd.

The officer calls out, ���Hey boy, what you got there?����� He touches his shoulder, Ebele jerks not realizing who it was.

The officer puts his hand on his baton but Ebele backs off, ���Relax, I am an officer of the law.�� Son, you take something, what did you take?�� Come here.���

Ebele, disoriented, sees the pale tall slender officer motioning for him, he turns to see the mob coming his direction.�� In his confusion, he runs.

���Hey, I said stop!����� The officer calls it in and goes in pursuit.

The crowd looks in confusion as the cop sprints past them, sirens are heard in the distance as the crowd turns ugly.�� Camera phones whirl away recording everything.

The tree line twists upside down, the heat emanates off of the hot pavement, the air is stiff as people scream and shout.�� Wails of sirens erupt from everywhere, even among all the confusion all Ebele could hear was his breath and heartbeat.

���I said stop in the name of the law!������� A click of a gun is heard.�� Time stands still.

The officer looks directly at Big Moe standing in his way.

���Dear Officer John Doe, I believe by you confronting the young man, startling him in his disorientation, touching him inappropriately, you violated the law by assault.�� By not having all of the facts presented to you, you reacted by your survival instincts.�� Now not by a normal human, but the heightened insecurity that officers bring to the job with them.�� Every little twitch, every little reach, anything out of the ordinary you must be conscious too.�� Its understandable in your choice of professions and I don���t envy your position.�� From the same standpoint as you; the oppressor���s mistrust of the community, especially us as African-Americans you displace blame.�� A bullet does not have a soul, its victims are chosen by those who hold the power, once in flight the oppressor who squeezed the trigger can displace his conscious.���� And we, as the oppressed must comply, whether we agree or not, or we suffer the consequences, jailed, beaten, killed, a life destroyed, entire families destroyed.���� We have but a few seconds to make this choice, to stand up for what we feel is an injustice, being targeted for something silly, something simple and insignificant or it could be something more serious, a theft, a pocket of drugs, yes a crime could have been committed but in these mere seconds is somebody���s life worth it to die?���� Officer John Doe, take that moment of choice, past all of your extensive training, our general distrust of each other, whatever anger is in your head against somebody different than you, and think, are you beyond human that you must take this person���s life?�� Are they that much of a threat you must end his existence?���� This person does have a mother and a father, a family that cares for them, they could be a parent themselves, in school trying to better themselves, off work from a hard day – was it really worth it?���� Before its us versus them, before the day begins and whatever happens, we are all human, bleed and breathe the same way.�� Keep faith alive that there is a God looking over us and we all must pray for his forgiveness whatever religion you follow.

And my fellow African-Americans, Hispanics, Jewish, Arabs, Indians, whomever feels oppressed from the overseers we can do better by being better educated, being more knowledgeable about the laws, by being less confrontational – and I���m not saying bow down and not saying anything if you feel they are in the wrong – but by having more wisdom we play on their level.�� Challenge them intelligently.�� They have less reason to treat us as sub-humans, as the oppressed, as less than man.�� If you are full of attitude and a chip on your shoulder, channel it into working to challenge the system productively, believe it or not, we have rights, use them.

The officer looks again as there is a solid wall of people standing between him and Ebele.�� Moe has been joined by Quinton, Zach, Freddy, Adanna, the food vendors, the mixed race crowd supporting Zeke���s Kitchen, supporting their neighborhood.�� It���s deadly quiet as the police force looks into the eyes of the citizens, the citizens of Detroit, the citizens of the United States of America coming together.

Officer John Doe puts his pistol down as his fellow officers look on surprised.�� Ebele emerges from the crowd, he holds the flapjack up, gives the officer the gift of Jesus.

#FERGUSON�� DEDICATED TO MICHAEL BROWN, JOHN CRAWFORD, TREVON MARTIN AND ALL OF THE OTHER NEEDLESS KILLINGS IN THE NAME OF THE LAW SINCE 1476����

Smoke filters, fluffs, dissipates over burnt flapjacks sizzling in the forgotten about skillet, shriveled three quarters to the size they normally would be.�� Dwele plays in the background crooning about the flavored pastries.�� An iPhone buzzes on the counter inching slightly towards a turnt over bottle of syrup which drips havoc towards the electronic.�� The text reads from Silvia and Maureen,�� ���Girl we heard you have tickets to the Kommandoz concert!�� We need to go with you to turn it up!�� We have a surprise for you!���

Children play in the back yard, laughing, yelling happily, oblivious to the underlying drama.

Utopia stands by the pool, distraught, staring into space, she drops a letter by her side, her world crushed.

“Excuse me?  How old is he?  OMG!”  Maureen blurts out loud into her iPhone.

Silvia darts her eyes of of the highway to glare over at her sister, “What?  What’d he say?  How old?”

Maureen holds up her hand, waves her away, “Heifer!  Pay attention to the dang road, I got this!”

Silvia swerves, darts the mini Ford around a pothole, looks at her sister again frowning.

Maureen growls, points two fingers at the road, “Focus girl!  Focus your eyes in the dang Focus!  Detroit already sports sinkholes that swallows up cars!”

“Swallows up, say what?”  Their cousin Chaps blurts into the phone.

“Chaps, relax, it wasn’t what you’re thinking!  Go back to what you were saying.  What happened when Joynae met Silva’s -so called ‘internet boyfriend’?

“Girl, let me tell you, that lil’boy had mad game, I see how he pulled lil’ vulnerable Silvas heart right out of her chest!”

“Oh snap, how little?  Come on now, spill the beans!”

“Listen, okay, so Joynae got cuz Silva’s voice down pat and last night convinced lil’Rerun to go downtown Dayton and have dinner with her at this plush lil’dive called De’lish Cafel, and ooh um, lemme tell you about the Creole Ribeye’s, Mama would be proud, uh huh…”

“Chaps!  The boy!”

“Oh right, okay so Joynae got lil backside just like Silv’s but not her funny looking mug…”  Maureen snickers as Silvia glances over curiously.  “Anyways, so girl, Joynae’s at the bar waiting on lil’Gary Coleman, we know’s he’s going to have on a Polo shirt and TImbs while carrying a white rose.  I’m hiding out at a back table while she has her backside all popping fresh all over the place causing a traffic jam in the restaurant you know what I’m saying.  So, we looking for this man and then walks in, a boy maybe, eleven, twelve?”

“How old?  Oh darling!”  Maureen gasps.

Silvia swerves again disoriented.

“Girl he was pimping it too, ill Kangol pulled back, Pelle Pelle’d out, Gucci rope with the Timbs and Polo on, killing it for Junior high!”

Maureen shakes her head, “Dang!  For real?”

“This lil boy strode like he done owned the store, ninety degree lean, poppin and locking, oozing swag all over the place!   I see how he got past security, they was confused!”

“What Joynae say to him??”

“Girl, I’m getting there, let me tell you!  Joy put it on him!  He approached, all swagerific, ready, thirsty!  Lil’boy had the nerve to lick his lips when he spotted the booty, girl, it was horrible!”

“What she do??”

“All he got was “Silvia?”  And it was on!  She turned around slow, glared at him – you should have seen his face, his jaw dropped, his demeanor just all changed up.  Joynae pointed her finger and snapped, “I got your Silvia boy!  Boy you trying to catfish my ll cuz, wait, wait a minute, Tremel? Tremel Bishop?  You were in my science class when I substituted at the prep academy!  What!  I should tan your hide over my knee you messing with the wrong fam!  What’s wrong with this picture?  I know your Mama!”

Maureen starts clutching her sides trying not to laugh too hard.

“Girl, the whole joint was rolling, even the singer Dave Speed and the Platinum Blend band had to pause the jams to see what what up!   Joynae was still cussing him out as he and his crew ran out of the place, oh and trust, I have that on my phone, watch, I’ll send you the link to the upload!”

“Oh girl, that is nuts!  I can’t even hold it!  I have to pee!  Goodness, why does Zeke’s keep calling this phone?

SIlvia scrunches her face, “Well its my phone thats why!  They probably wanting to know where the bread order is, I’ll get back with them later.”

“Cougar, they calling back to back.  Pedophile.”

“What?  Pedophile?  Cougar?”

“Honey child, handle your business, I’m trying to walk these dogs and I think they just spotted a muskrat!  Cujo slow down!”  Chaps blurts out.

“Boy, a muskrat??  Where are you with those crazy dogs?”

“I’m out in the Glen Helen, they bout to yank me down these steps and I’m not the one!”

“Oh, that pretty place with all the big trees and waterfalls and stuff we went to when was kids?  Aww, I like that place.”

“Well drag your honey butt down here sometime and get your nature on, right now I’m bout to flip down these slippery steps, I gotta go bye!”

“We here.”  Silvia brings Maureen to reality as they have left the highway and are driving through a Cass Corridor neighborhood.  Maureen rolls up her window.   “What’s the matter with you, you scared?”  Silvia snickers.

“Girl, I had nightmares about this neighborhood since we was kids.  I don’t like coming over here.”

“Nightmares?  This neighborhood bout as hood as any other Detroit area.  What’s so different?  Heck, I like some of the music shows I’ve come to down here.”

Maureen looks at her solemnly, “Girl, you know this is the last place daddy was before he died.  I think he saw the Rouge.”

Silvia arches her eyebrow, “Say what?  The what?”

“Girl, the Nain Rouge, didn’t you ever hear that horror story when you was younger?”  Maureen barely registers above a whisper prompting Silvia some concern.  “When people see the lil’ evil gnome like character something bad happens to you.  People have died, or got really sick, had war, lost their fortunes.  Probably why Detroit bankrupt now!  Daddy was down here getting flour for the restaurant right there around the corner, next thing you know he had the heart attack.  I don’t mess with this neighborhood.”

“You really serious bout this, what is this, an urban legend of some sort?   Oh my goodness, Maureen believes in fairy tales?”

“Girl bye, I have to remember you the baby and they didn’t share these stories with you.  Let’s find this Ponyi character, see what Kevin’s got himself into, and get out!”  Maureen eyes open wide as she sulks down in the seat.

“And we need to discuss this intel that Chaps found out.”  Silvia pauses spotting the huge banner portraying ‘Nain for Manager’ in announcement of the Marche du Nain Rouge parade.

Silvia shakes her head, “Wow, and I thought you was the only loony one.”

They pull down a nondescript but busy neighborhood street, children are playing, people are outside barbecuing, tending yards, hanging laundry in this mostly working class mixed cultural area.  A carload of men slowly drive by blasting music and stare at the girls as they approach a small house set back from the road.  An older car on blocks hogs the small driveway, hanging laundry cloaks the entranceway.

The phone buzzes again, Maureen holds it up to show twenty-two missed messages.  Silvia shakes her head.  Maureen turns it off and hands it to Silvia.

“And what are we doing here again?  Darling, this doesn’t look promising.”   Maureen surmises as Silvia climbs out of the car.

“Sis, let’s go, we didn’t come out here for nothing.  This girl may know something, anything about where our brother has been for what, nine years?  We owe this to Mama if anything, I would hate if something…”

“Shut it!  Nothing’s going to happen to Mother besides getting better – right?  Let’s go.”

Maureen dons her Louis Vuitton bug glasses, sprays some Allure perfume on her Versace leather coat making sure she’s fabulous arriving at the home.  Silvia looks down to earth in her Apple Bottoms outfit as neighbors notice their stroll in tandem towards the door.

A petite Indian woman, in traditional multicultural shawl arrives on the small porch carrying a small basket of laundry.  Maureen and Silvia stop short of the porch taking in the small woman as she does the same to them.  Even doing domestic chores the young woman looks graceful, classy makeup applied, hair done back.

“May I help you?”  She looks at them quizzically.  “I don’t talk to solicitors, you go up street, no thank you.”

The sisters eye each other sassily, “Excuse me?  Anyways baby girl are you Ponyi?  Ponyi Patel?”  Maureen breaks the ice.

“And who wants to know, I’ve paid my taxes, my bills are up…”

“Girl, this isn’t about you.  We’re not collecting any money or nothing.  We’re looking for somebody you may know…”  Silvia injects.

Ponyi arches her back, gets a look of defiance on her face, starts to retreat to the house, “I don’t know anybody, I’m not from here.  Please go.”

“Ponyi, please, its our brother.  Kevin, we’ve been looking for him a long time.  Please.”

Ponyi pauses hearing his name before opening the door.

Maureen steps forward, “Wait, I’m not sure what your relation is with our brother but you have to understand, we love him and he left us under bad circumstances.  We’re not intending any harm to him if you’re trying to protect him.  We miss him dearly and you seem to be the only connection to him after our mother cho…choked your name out on her hospital bed…”  Maureen is not able to continue.

Ponyi grips the door, stoic in her stance until she hangs her head.

Maureen turns not able to face them, she grips the laundry pole line.  Silvia takes a breath and steps forward, “Ponyi, our mother is sick, possibly dying, she has not said a word in the last two days – until she said you, who we’ve never ever heard of.  Please help us.”

The women are at a standstill as silence envelopes the claustrophobic yard.  Not even the busy neighborhood could be heard.  Maureen takes a breath and wipes her face.  The next person who sobs is Ponyi.  Silvia and Maureen eye each other and take the cue to approach her.

“Ponyi sweetie, please.”  Silvia touches her shoulder.

Ponyi looks up, her makeup smeared, her face softened.   Maureen takes the basket.  “I know who you are Woods sisters.  I am sorry, this is very difficult for me to retain this secrecy, this has never been my intent.”

They sit on a bench on the porch, “Secrecy?  What is going on Ponyi, where you dating my brother?”

Ponyi hangs her head lower as the girls try to comfort her.  “It’s okay Ponyi, we just want to contact him, for our mother.”

“He doesn’t think we blame him for what happened to our dad does he?  That is so not the case if it is.”  Silvia blurts out as even Maureen eyes her surprised.

“You two are nice, your brother spoke highly of you.  Sorry to come all this way and I am no help.  For you see, your brother, I have not seen him in long time, my apologies.”

“Wait, really?  I mean, do you have his number, email, anything to contact him?”

Ponyi shakes her head, children laughing, coming closer interrupts their moment.  Ponyi gets her wits about herself and stands, “Listen, it was nice meeting you two, I had hoped meeting his family would have been under better circumstances, give my regards to your mother, she is an outstanding woman, I must go.”

Maureen starts to become unraveled, stands, “OMG, Silvia, I knew this was a dead end, this whole situation with Mama and Kevin, this neighborhood, this is getting to me, come!”

The children become louder as Ponyi nervously tries to get her basket into the house, “I must go, good day Woods sisters.”

“Wait, what, what is happening?  Ponyi please.”  Silvia attempts to walk into the house with her much to Ponyi’s surprise.

“Please Sissy, let’s go!  I feel the Nain Rouge is here!”  Maureen is escaping halfway across the yard tripping over children’s toys.

Ponyi pushes on the door, “Ms. Woods, please!”

Silvia, taller than the short Indian suddenly notices something odd on the adjoining bookshelf.  She stiffens, quiets as Ponyi follows her gaze.  Her pupils widen, she bites her lip as the two women eye each other.

“Ponyi, is that?”

Ponyi shakes her head, “No, no, please, do not go there.”

“Oh my goodness!”  Silvia’s mouth drops as she whips out her phone, she turns it on and searches for a number.

“No, its not what you think, Ms. Woods please!  I beg of you!”  Ponyi pleads to deaf ears as Silvia heads off the porch.

Maureen, almost at the car but trying to avoid a bicycle notices Silvia all smiles, “Heifer, what in the world?  What happened?  Who you calling?”

“Ugh!  They are still calling crazy from the restaurant!”  Silvia puts her finger up as Maureen curls her lip.  “I’m calling my home girl Layne Weiss, shes a journalist.”

Ponyi puts her face into her hands.

“Excuse me?”

“Layne?  Hey girl, hey.  What you doing?”

Layne is surrounded by thumping music and lots of chatter, “Living the dream girl, about to interview Slum Village up at the Fillmore.  What’s good, how’s Mama?”

“She’s the same girl, still on critical.  Hoping for the best.”

“Sorry baby, I’m hoping too.”

“Slum Village huh?  That’s your boys, how they doing?”

“I know right, they doing it big up here with Guilty Simpson and Black Milk, I’m in heaven right now.  Interviewing all of them!”

“Oh I’m jealous!  Need to take me next time!”

“Nothing but a thing to call me, you know where I be.”

“No doubt, speaking of which, what’s the word on Kommandoz performing here?  I remember you interviewed them some time also.  Aren’t they coming soon?”

“Kommandoz?  Oh yeah, Utopia already copped tickets from me for their show.  They’re here this weekend.”

“Oh goodness, that is wonderful!  Layne, you ever talk with their drummer?”  Silvia searches her phone for pictures of the band.

“Their drummer?  Kwame?  You know, I’ve talked with everybody in the crew but he seems to never be available.  Odd, he’s the D-town native too.”

“Wait, did you say Kwame?  Is that the right name?”  Ponyi sobs on the porch.

“Yeah, last article I posted his name Kwame Da’man, girl you know that’s probably his stage name.  Why?”

Silvia gasps, looks at an obscure sideview picture of Kwame.

“Silvia?”  both Layne and Maureen ask her quizzically.

“Layne girl, I know you busy, thanks baby girl.  I’ll be reading your Inmylanye.com when I get home!”

“Oh okay girl, had me worried.  You do that and make sure to get me some of that great Ten-cheese soul macaroni, I’ve been craving it!  Hit me up you need anything!”

“Okay girl, hook me up for that show and I’ll bring you all the cheesy mac you want!”

“Done!”

Silvia hangs up the phone and approaches Maureen trying to get her heel out of the bicycle spokes.  “Baby girl, what was all that?  Said this place was getting under my skin – so this better be good.”  Silvia eyes her with a weird smile, mild look of shock, Maureen looks at her concerned, “Wait, what, what is it?”

Silvia holds up her phone to show the picture of the drummer, Maureen’s eyes go wide.

Their moment is interrupted by emerging children finally arriving.  The children laughing, running, kicking a ball back and forth.  They range in age from seven to nine, two of them are little Hispanic boys, one white, two black, the middle child is distinctively black but with a reddish tint and wavy curls.

This boy slows, eyes the women startled, curious.  Maureen and Silvia stand rigid, with the same surprise, their gut feeling was one of familiarity.

The boys friends look on unaware their friend’s predicament.

“Hey Kevin, see you at school!”  The boys race off to their respective homes for lunch.

Silvia drops her phone as Maureen’s mouth gapes.

Ponyi sighs, “Kevin, say hi and come eat your lunch.”  He waves nervously at them as they meekly wave back.  He races off into his home hugging his mother before entering.

Ponyi shrugs, “We’ll talk.”

The sisters nod speechless.

Ci

“Excuse me?  How old is he?  OMG!”  Maureen blurts out loud into her iPhone.

Silvia darts her eyes of of the highway to glare over at her sister, “What?  What’d he say?  How old?”

Maureen holds up her hand, waves her away, “Heifer!  Pay attention to the dang road, I got this!”

Silvia swerves, darts the mini Ford around a pothole, looks at her sister again frowning.

Maureen growls, points two fingers at the road, “Focus girl!  Focus your eyes in the dang Focus!  Detroit already sports sinkholes that swallows up cars!”

“Swallows up, say what?”  Their cousin Chaps blurts into the phone.

“Chaps, relax, it wasn’t what you’re thinking!  Go back to what you were saying.  What happened when Joynae met Silva’s -so called ‘internet boyfriend’?

“Girl, let me tell you, that lil’boy had mad game, I see how he pulled lil’ vulnerable Silvas heart right out of her chest!”

“Oh snap, how little?  Come on now, spill the beans!”

“Listen, okay, so Joynae got cuz Silva’s voice down pat and last night convinced lil’Rerun to go downtown Dayton and have dinner with her at this plush lil’dive called De’lish Cafel, and ooh um, lemme tell you about the Creole Ribeye’s, Mama would be proud, uh huh…”

“Chaps!  The boy!”

“Oh right, okay so Joynae got lil backside just like Silv’s but not her funny looking mug…”  Maureen snickers as Silvia glances over curiously.  “Anyways, so girl, Joynae’s at the bar waiting on lil’Gary Coleman, we know’s he’s going to have on a Polo shirt and TImbs while carrying a white rose.  I’m hiding out at a back table while she has her backside all popping fresh all over the place causing a traffic jam in the restaurant you know what I’m saying.  So, we looking for this man and then walks in, a boy maybe, eleven, twelve?”

“How old?  Oh darling!”  Maureen gasps.

Silvia swerves again disoriented.

“Girl he was pimping it too, ill Kangol pulled back, Pelle Pelle’d out, Gucci rope with the Timbs and Polo on, killing it for Junior high!”

Maureen shakes her head, “Dang!  For real?”

“This lil boy strode like he done owned the store, ninety degree lean, poppin and locking, oozing swag all over the place!   I see how he got past security, they was confused!”

“What Joynae say to him??”

“Girl, I’m getting there, let me tell you!  Joy put it on him!  He approached, all swagerific, ready, thirsty!  Lil’boy had the nerve to lick his lips when he spotted the booty, girl, it was horrible!”

“What she do??”

“All he got was “Silvia?”  And it was on!  She turned around slow, glared at him – you should have seen his face, his jaw dropped, his demeanor just all changed up.  Joynae pointed her finger and snapped, “I got your Silvia boy!  Boy you trying to catfish my ll cuz, wait, wait a minute, Tremel? Tremel Bishop?  You were in my science class when I substituted at the prep academy!  What!  I should tan your hide over my knee you messing with the wrong fam!  What’s wrong with this picture?  I know your Mama!”

Maureen starts clutching her sides trying not to laugh too hard.

“Girl, the whole joint was rolling, even the singer Dave Speed and the Platinum Blend band had to pause the jams to see what what up!   Joynae was still cussing him out as he and his crew ran out of the place, oh and trust, I have that on my phone, watch, I’ll send you the link to the upload!”

“Oh girl, that is nuts!  I can’t even hold it!  I have to pee!  Goodness, why does Zeke’s keep calling this phone?

SIlvia scrunches her face, “Well its my phone thats why!  They probably wanting to know where the bread order is, I’ll get back with them later.”

“Cougar, they calling back to back.  Pedophile.”

“What?  Pedophile?  Cougar?”

“Honey child, handle your business, I’m trying to walk these dogs and I think they just spotted a muskrat!  Cujo slow down!”  Chaps blurts out.

“Boy, a muskrat??  Where are you with those crazy dogs?”

“I’m out in the Glen Helen, they bout to yank me down these steps and I’m not the one!”

“Oh, that pretty place with all the big trees and waterfalls and stuff we went to when was kids?  Aww, I like that place.”

“Well drag your honey butt down here sometime and get your nature on, right now I’m bout to flip down these slippery steps, I gotta go bye!”

“We here.”  Silvia brings Maureen to reality as they have left the highway and are driving through a Cass Corridor neighborhood.  Maureen rolls up her window.   “What’s the matter with you, you scared?”  Silvia snickers.

“Girl, I had nightmares about this neighborhood since we was kids.  I don’t like coming over here.”

“Nightmares?  This neighborhood bout as hood as any other Detroit area.  What’s so different?  Heck, I like some of the music shows I’ve come to down here.”

Maureen looks at her solemnly, “Girl, you know this is the last place daddy was before he died.  I think he saw the Rouge.”

Silvia arches her eyebrow, “Say what?  The what?”

“Girl, the Nain Rouge, didn’t you ever hear that horror story when you was younger?”  Maureen barely registers above a whisper prompting Silvia some concern.  “When people see the lil’ evil gnome like character something bad happens to you.  People have died, or got really sick, had war, lost their fortunes.  Probably why Detroit bankrupt now!  Daddy was down here getting flour for the restaurant right there around the corner, next thing you know he had the heart attack.  I don’t mess with this neighborhood.”

“You really serious bout this, what is this, an urban legend of some sort?   Oh my goodness, Maureen believes in fairy tales?”

“Girl bye, I have to remember you the baby and they didn’t share these stories with you.  Let’s find this Ponyi character, see what Kevin’s got himself into, and get out!”  Maureen eyes open wide as she sulks down in the seat.

“And we need to discuss this intel that Chaps found out.”  Silvia pauses spotting the huge banner portraying ‘Nain for Manager’ in announcement of the Marche du Nain Rouge parade.

Silvia shakes her head, “Wow, and I thought you was the only loony one.”

They pull down a nondescript but busy neighborhood street, children are playing, people are outside barbecuing, tending yards, hanging laundry in this mostly working class mixed cultural area.  A carload of men slowly drive by blasting music and stare at the girls as they approach a small house set back from the road.  An older car on blocks hogs the small driveway, hanging laundry cloaks the entranceway.

The phone buzzes again, Maureen holds it up to show twenty-two missed messages.  Silvia shakes her head.  Maureen turns it off and hands it to Silvia.

“And what are we doing here again?  Darling, this doesn’t look promising.”   Maureen surmises as Silvia climbs out of the car.

“Sis, let’s go, we didn’t come out here for nothing.  This girl may know something, anything about where our brother has been for what, nine years?  We owe this to Mama if anything, I would hate if something…”

“Shut it!  Nothing’s going to happen to Mother besides getting better – right?  Let’s go.”

Maureen dons her Louis Vuitton bug glasses, sprays some Allure perfume on her Versace leather coat making sure she’s fabulous arriving at the home.  Silvia looks down to earth in her Apple Bottoms outfit as neighbors notice their stroll in tandem towards the door.

A petite Indian woman, in traditional multicultural shawl arrives on the small porch carrying a small basket of laundry.  Maureen and Silvia stop short of the porch taking in the small woman as she does the same to them.  Even doing domestic chores the young woman looks graceful, classy makeup applied, hair done back.

“May I help you?”  She looks at them quizzically.  “I don’t talk to solicitors, you go up street, no thank you.”

The sisters eye each other sassily, “Excuse me?  Anyways baby girl are you Ponyi?  Ponyi Patel?”  Maureen breaks the ice.

“And who wants to know, I’ve paid my taxes, my bills are up…”

“Girl, this isn’t about you.  We’re not collecting any money or nothing.  We’re looking for somebody you may know…”  Silvia injects.

Ponyi arches her back, gets a look of defiance on her face, starts to retreat to the house, “I don’t know anybody, I’m not from here.  Please go.”

“Ponyi, please, its our brother.  Kevin, we’ve been looking for him a long time.  Please.”

Ponyi pauses hearing his name before opening the door.

Maureen steps forward, “Wait, I’m not sure what your relation is with our brother but you have to understand, we love him and he left us under bad circumstances.  We’re not intending any harm to him if you’re trying to protect him.  We miss him dearly and you seem to be the only connection to him after our mother cho…choked your name out on her hospital bed…”  Maureen is not able to continue.

Ponyi grips the door, stoic in her stance until she hangs her head.

Maureen turns not able to face them, she grips the laundry pole line.  Silvia takes a breath and steps forward, “Ponyi, our mother is sick, possibly dying, she has not said a word in the last two days – until she said you, who we’ve never ever heard of.  Please help us.”

The women are at a standstill as silence envelopes the claustrophobic yard.  Not even the busy neighborhood could be heard.  Maureen takes a breath and wipes her face.  The next person who sobs is Ponyi.  Silvia and Maureen eye each other and take the cue to approach her.

“Ponyi sweetie, please.”  Silvia touches her shoulder.

Ponyi looks up, her makeup smeared, her face softened.   Maureen takes the basket.  “I know who you are Woods sisters.  I am sorry, this is very difficult for me to retain this secrecy, this has never been my intent.”

They sit on a bench on the porch, “Secrecy?  What is going on Ponyi, where you dating my brother?”

Ponyi hangs her head lower as the girls try to comfort her.  “It’s okay Ponyi, we just want to contact him, for our mother.”

“He doesn’t think we blame him for what happened to our dad does he?  That is so not the case if it is.”  Silvia blurts out as even Maureen eyes her surprised.

“You two are nice, your brother spoke highly of you.  Sorry to come all this way and I am no help.  For you see, your brother, I have not seen him in long time, my apologies.”

“Wait, really?  I mean, do you have his number, email, anything to contact him?”

Ponyi shakes her head, children laughing, coming closer interrupts their moment.  Ponyi gets her wits about herself and stands, “Listen, it was nice meeting you two, I had hoped meeting his family would have been under better circumstances, give my regards to your mother, she is an outstanding woman, I must go.”

Maureen starts to become unraveled, stands, “OMG, Silvia, I knew this was a dead end, this whole situation with Mama and Kevin, this neighborhood, this is getting to me, come!”

The children become louder as Ponyi nervously tries to get her basket into the house, “I must go, good day Woods sisters.”

“Wait, what, what is happening?  Ponyi please.”  Silvia attempts to walk into the house with her much to Ponyi’s surprise.

“Please Sissy, let’s go!  I feel the Nain Rouge is here!”  Maureen is escaping halfway across the yard tripping over children’s toys.

Ponyi pushes on the door, “Ms. Woods, please!”

Silvia, taller than the short Indian suddenly notices something odd on the adjoining bookshelf.  She stiffens, quiets as Ponyi follows her gaze.  Her pupils widen, she bites her lip as the two women eye each other.

“Ponyi, is that?”

Ponyi shakes her head, “No, no, please, do not go there.”

“Oh my goodness!”  Silvia’s mouth drops as she whips out her phone, she turns it on and searches for a number.

“No, its not what you think, Ms. Woods please!  I beg of you!”  Ponyi pleads to deaf ears as Silvia heads off the porch.

Maureen, almost at the car but trying to avoid a bicycle notices Silvia all smiles, “Heifer, what in the world?  What happened?  Who you calling?”

“Ugh!  They are still calling crazy from the restaurant!”  Silvia puts her finger up as Maureen curls her lip.  “I’m calling my home girl Layne Weiss, shes a journalist.”

Ponyi puts her face into her hands.

“Excuse me?”

“Layne?  Hey girl, hey.  What you doing?”

Layne is surrounded by thumping music and lots of chatter, “Living the dream girl, about to interview Slum Village up at the Fillmore.  What’s good, how’s Mama?”

“She’s the same girl, still on critical.  Hoping for the best.”

“Sorry baby, I’m hoping too.”

“Slum Village huh?  That’s your boys, how they doing?”

“I know right, they doing it big up here with Guilty Simpson and Black Milk, I’m in heaven right now.  Interviewing all of them!”

“Oh I’m jealous!  Need to take me next time!”

“Nothing but a thing to call me, you know where I be.”

“No doubt, speaking of which, what’s the word on Kommandoz performing here?  I remember you interviewed them some time also.  Aren’t they coming soon?”

“Kommandoz?  Oh yeah, Utopia already copped tickets from me for their show.  They’re here this weekend.”

“Oh goodness, that is wonderful!  Layne, you ever talk with their drummer?”  Silvia searches her phone for pictures of the band.

“Their drummer?  Kwame?  You know, I’ve talked with everybody in the crew but he seems to never be available.  Odd, he’s the D-town native too.”

“Wait, did you say Kwame?  Is that the right name?”  Ponyi sobs on the porch.

“Yeah, last article I posted his name Kwame Da’man, girl you know that’s probably his stage name.  Why?”

Silvia gasps, looks at an obscure sideview picture of Kwame.

“Silvia?”  both Layne and Maureen ask her quizzically.

“Layne girl, I know you busy, thanks baby girl.  I’ll be reading your Inmylanye.com when I get home!”

“Oh okay girl, had me worried.  You do that and make sure to get me some of that great Ten-cheese soul macaroni, I’ve been craving it!  Hit me up you need anything!”

“Okay girl, hook me up for that show and I’ll bring you all the cheesy mac you want!”

“Done!”

Silvia hangs up the phone and approaches Maureen trying to get her heel out of the bicycle spokes.  “Baby girl, what was all that?  Said this place was getting under my skin – so this better be good.”  Silvia eyes her with a weird smile, mild look of shock, Maureen looks at her concerned, “Wait, what, what is it?”

Silvia holds up her phone to show the picture of the drummer, Maureen’s eyes go wide.

Their moment is interrupted by emerging children finally arriving.  The children laughing, running, kicking a ball back and forth.  They range in age from seven to nine, two of them are little Hispanic boys, one white, two black, the middle child is distinctively black but with a reddish tint and wavy curls.

This boy slows, eyes the women startled, curious.  Maureen and Silvia stand rigid, with the same surprise, their gut feeling was one of familiarity.

The boys friends look on unaware their friend’s predicament.

“Hey Kevin, see you at school!”  The boys race off to their respective homes for lunch.

Silvia drops her phone as Maureen’s mouth gapes.

Ponyi sighs, “Kevin, say hi and come eat your lunch.”  He waves nervously at them as they meekly wave back.  He races off into his home hugging his mother before entering.

Ponyi shrugs, “We’ll talk.”

The sisters nod speechless.

Ci

Hmmm Tasty

A heart monitor beeps softly in steady repetitious prose, a quiet harmony in the oddly desolate hospital hallway.  The darkened hallway is lit with just emergency lights as wind howls outside rattling the windows.  A continuous squeak draws closer permeating the air obnoxiously.

Kayla emerges trudging slowly, long IV’s attached to her arms as she lugs the machine behind.  She looks horrible, bags under her eyes, bruises on her body, hair disheveled, eyes glazed over as she looks around perplexed.

She purses her chapped lips together, barely whispers, “Hello?”

Nobody answers in the vacant ward as she continues on her quest.  She peers into patient rooms where they sleep peacefully, not to be disturbed.

She meekly asks, “Hello?”  Still no response.

She finds a staff lounge and meanders through, its vacant.

“Why isn’t anybody here?”

She arrives at the opposite hallway directly in front of Mama’s room.  She peers in, she’s gone.

“Looking for me?”

Kayla whips around almost dropping the machine, Mama stands upright, basking in the glow of the humming fluorescent light.

“Mama, you’re okay.”  Tears stream down her face.

“I’ve been better, you don’t look so hot yourself.  Maybe you had the heart attack and I’m sitting up in that huge mansion.”

“That mansion and Ezekiel is why I’m here.  I hate to say it…”

“Don’t make excuses for my son, but don’t make excuses for yourself either. “

“But Mama, you don’t…”

“I don’t want to hear it.  What, you think I was born yesterday?  I know my son can be a pain, I understand relationships have issues, I understand life is hard, welcome to the real world.  So, you reckon teaching my grandbabies that coping out overdoing prescription drugs is the answer to life’s problems?”

“I don’t reckon anything…”

“You make your bed dear, you lay in it.  People have been going through these same issues for years.  You come to that fork in the road where you either fight to win, hold your head up keeping the faith.  Or be a yellow baby and run and hide behind your manufactured pills the man served you nice and cold.  Numb yourself to reality.”

“I don’t do anything illegal, I stick with my scripts…”

“And they say the Devil works in mysterious ways, sometimes he’s quite obvious.”

Mama squeezes her hand hard as she tries a faint smile.

Kayla sits up abruptly in her darkened hospital room, stares right into the eyes of her husband Ezekiel standing at the foot of her bed.  He slightly leans forward, glaring back at her, the whites of his eyes illuminated in the dim night lighting.  She stares back in silence, the only sound is of her heartbeat.  Her lips start to quiver, she grips the sheets swallowing hard as the veins on her neck shows.  Ezekiel narrows his eyes, stares at her predicament indifferent.  Pee develops on her bed sheets as her eyes flutter and go back into her head as she shakes.  The fluorescent lights blur as the room fades to black.

Ezekiel’s voice looms in hard and cold repeating her name, “Kayla…Kayla!”

In the early morning Kayla awakes in her bed disoriented, confused.  Her mind playing tricks on her as the silhouette of Ezekiel burns on the empty wall.  She pulls her arm and groans in pain with the IV tubes wedged deeply.  She groans, sits up disheveled, a hot mess, shaking, she writhes and screams until hospital staff come to her aid.

In the nearby waiting room, Utopia grabs the boys hands, “Hey, want to go play some video games in the lounge?  Let’s go.”

Matador and Milo take her hand eagerly, pulling on her, “Let’s go!  Come on!”

Kylie stays rooted in her seat, gripping her tablet, trembling, dried tears on her face.  Utopia sighs, bites her lip, “Kylie baby, you want to join us?”

Kylie sniffles, shakes her head, “I can’t.”

“I know this is hard sweetie, you want to talk…”

“Can I go ahead to school?”

“You sure you want…”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

Utopia nods yes as she makes the call to arrange it.   She puts her hand on Kylie’s shoulder who turns burrowing her face in Utopia’s chest hugging her tightly.  Utopia tries not to tear up as the driver answers.

“Listen Marty, once the defendant realizes we have an ace in the hole in our presentation they will have no choice but to fold and crumble like cake.  They are unraveling like cheap glue.  Let’s stay on course that we laid out before circumstances abruptly changed…”  Ezekiel rattles on his cell phone in a busy Detroit downtown eatery.  Ms. Kane sits across from him picking away at a gourmet salad as she watches intently his hurried speech, his fixation of tapping his stir stick obnoxiously on his double mocha fudge slightly whipped coffee.  Her thoughts wandering to better times with her boss and moderate lover, then reality hits.

Ezekiel checks his call waiting annoyed, “Hang on Marty, somebody is blowing up my line.  Guess my voicemail wasn’t good enough for them.”  He hits the button, “Hello, who is this?”   His face goes from irreverent to concerned.

“Excuse me, how did you get this number?”

“Isn’t any matter how I got your number.  You knows I’m not going anywhere, bout time for you to fess up and handle your business you’ve neglected for so long.  No better time than the present to fulfill your destiny.”  The deep female voice booms over his cell irritating him to no in.

“Excuse me?   Are you really threatening me?  Do you not know who I am and what I’m capable of?  I will crush you.”  Ms. Kane arches her eyebrow surprised.

“I heard Mo is back.”

“And?  Really, you bore me, good day.”

“Wait, its bout time she knows the truth.  Bout time everybody knows the truth.  I’ve respected your parents legacy so long.  While Mr. High and Mighty played the wicked games lawyers play your real dirt has always been right below the surface.  Trust and believe I have the proof to shut you down.”

“Really now?  Shut me down.  And what fantasy proof is this?  You make me laugh.”

“And you make me laugh.  Everybody knows what goes on in the dark always sees the light.  Funny is you know how Detroit winters are always brutal, and coldness has a way of preserving discarded material thought gone forever.”

Ezekiel’s face goes white, his stir stick drops to the floor as Ms. Kane almost chokes on her salad never seeing him this caught off guard.

His voice booms louder, “Don’t you dare it!  That evidence would be clearly inadmissible and never fly in court!  Witch you hear me!?”  He bangs the tiny table much to the chagrin of nearby surprised patrons.

His face softens, “Oh wait, Marty?  Oh heavens, my apologies, oh goodness, I…”  He rubs the sweat off his brow clearly distraught.  “It went through, the judge okay’d the motion?  Oh brilliant.  Crap, hang on Marty!”

He flips calls again, “Now listen here, I will slap a lawsuit on you so fast…”  His motions change again to bewilderment.

“Oh wait, who is this?   Pooky?”  he frowns.   “Do what?  What is this concerning?  Oh, you’re at the restaurant, oh yes, the black chubby midget.”  He pauses.  “Right.  Listen, I’m quite busy right now, what is it?  A health inspector?  Not up to code?  Interesting.”  His face changes to indifference as Ms. Kane looks on amazed.

“Okay, okay, right, I see.  And where is my sister, you didn’t tell her this trivia?  She’s hunting Indians?  Excuse me?”  He shakes his head antsy.  “Listen, Pokey, do what my mother would have done or shut it down.  It’s no matter to me at this instance.”  He hangs up.

“Marty?  Okay good, listen, that other situation?  Might be resolving itself, stay tuned.  Yes, I know, is ironic…”

Ms. Kane pushes her food aside and gets up abruptly, exhausted of hearing his mess.  He pauses for a moment to look in her direction as she leaves before getting the bill.

A nearby patron’s cell phone ringer buzzes playing Big K.R.I.T.’s “Hydroplaning.”  Ezekiel wrinkles his noise, “Excuse me sir, could you turn down your rap crap?  Nobody wants to hear that mess.”

The man frowns at him and smirks, “Why, it sounding too much like your theme song bourgeois man?  Get out of here!”

Ezekiel sucks his lips for once caught speechless, disarmed he goes about his business.

“Listen, this is the second major violation in six months, I’m sorry the city of Detroit and the state of Michigan won’t tolerate these instances.  We’re going to have to shut you down immediately before this causes an outbreak.”  A thin balding Health Inspector in a cheap suit is walking backwards out of Zeke’s Kitchen trying to avoid Pooky and Tanya glaring angrily in his face.

Tanya taps at him, “You’re full of it!  You know that first ‘so called’ violation turned out to be a mistake by the ‘then’ inspector and was dismissed!  Mama keeps pristine care of this kitchen sucka!”

“And she’s not present is she?  And that record still stands, section 4528, code…”

Pooky hangs up the phone frustrated with Ezekiel’s response, “Listen dog, that’s here nor there, we’ll get that straightened out in court.  Something with this don’t feel right, give us some time to figure this out…”

Two Detroit police officers arrive by the counter as eating patrons take notice.  Suga watches while cooking, glaring at the escalating tension, her nostrils flare as he keeps jabbering.  She puts down her pot to inspect the health inspectors finding in the walk-in cooler.

Big Moe munching on chili with Zack grunts loudly, Zack asks, “Hey what’s going on?”

The first officer eyes the patrons getting antsy, “Is none of your concern sir.  It’s almost closing time anyways.”

Suga shakes the pan confiscated by the health inspector, removes his tagging.

Tanya is in his face, “You know you don’t have no right, you need to get out of…”

He spots Suga behind her, “Ma’am, that’s evidence, please put that down!”

The second officer calls in backup concerned about the escalating chaos as the first tries to scoot by Tanya and Pooky arguing with the inspector, “Ma’am you heard the inspector!”   Moco watches concerned from the serving floor as she was waitressing.

Suga turns her large frame around thwarting him as she sniffs the raw chicken.

“Ma’am you’re interfering with an official investigation!”  The inspector attempts to move past Pooky who gets in his way.

“Hey, listen to me, I’m saying something ain’t right here, Mama would never have left anything that would hurt her customers…”

“And I said she’s not…”

“We follow her lead sir, you’re not listening.”

“Sucka, you need to step!”  Tanya is in his face as outside another police cruiser arrives.

“What is going on?  Pooky, Tanya, calm down!”  Moco moves towards the counter as the additional officers arrive.

“They trying to shut down Zeke’s!”  Tanya says aloud.  The patrons chattering turns into an uproar.

Suga bats the officer into shelving as she grunts and waves a thigh and leg up over her head, waving it back and forth.

“Ma’am you sealed the case!  Shut this place down immediately!”  The inspector yells.

“Wait, wait, she’s trying to tell you something!  Damn!”  Pooky cringes as the second officer pushes past him and Tanya towards Suga.

Moe is standing as the additional officers move in, “Moe love Zeke’s!  Listen, they said mistake!”

The officers pull out their batons, “Sir, this is not your concern!  Will ask you kindly to leave now!”

“Oh hell no, you guys aren’t shutting down Zeke’s, no way there’s a problem with they food!”  Zack stands up also.

Jaquan washing dishes peeks around the corner to see what’s happening, the second officer spots him, “Hey!  Been looking for you!”

Jaquan’s blinks in shock as he drops a plate and sprints towards the back door, the second officer chases after him forgetting his first mission.

Suga pushes her way towards the health inspector gripping the dripping raw chicken.  Pooky shakes his head understanding her, “Hey, hey!  Suga says this isn’t even our meat!  That is the mistake!”

“And?  It’s in your establishment!   You want Zeke’s to be responsible for a salmonella outbreak?  It’s covered in nasty bacteria you’re serving your so-called family!”

“Damn, she’s right, that’s not even our meat!  What the hell?  You plant this?  You setting us up because Mama is’nt here?”

The health inspector purses his lips, scoffs as he shakes his head, “What?  Excuse me?  And what advantage would I have to…”

Suga grunts and waves the meat by his head as he ducks, the drippings splash at him as he wipes himself furiously.  The first officer grabs at her arms to no avail.  Upset patrons are keeping the joining officers at bay.  More are called.

A patron yells, “They trying to close Zeke’s!”

Another shouts, “I’m calling my cousins, they can’t do this!”

Moco is caught up in the swell as people start showing up out of nowhere, “Did anyone call Silvia or the family?”

More officers arrive, cherries and berries ablaze as the restaurant melee is getting out of hand.  “Stand down, stand down!  This doesn’t have to get any worse!  With so many violations you can’t afford the lawsuits this escalating situation is going to cause.  Do the right thing and shut this down right now!”  The inspector is in Pooky’s face as his toupee shakes off his head.  Pooky shakes his head.

The police back off the crowd, pushing them out of the cafe as they start to chant in unison, “Eat at Zeke’s!  Eat at Zeke’s!  Eat at Zeke’s!  Eat at Zeke’s!

“No sucka, you don’t get it, the neighborhood won’t let that happen.  As I said, we don’t make mistakes, this so-called food has been planted here and we’ll prove it!  You can trust Zeke’s food I guarantee it!”

“Well your guarantee is crap!  I wouldn’t eat this garbage for the world!”  The mans toupee flips backwards as the crowd gasps in unison at his comments.

Suga gasps and shakes the hapless officer off her again, she slams down the tainted meat and grabs a label of food she was preparing.  She makes a beeline for the inspector who is turning colors arguing with Pooky and Tanya.  He happens to see her at the last-minute charging at him, “Oh heavens no!”  He tries to scoot past the counter to escape, “Officers!  Help!”

The officers look over too late as Suga bounces people out of her way, he’s almost at the door when she grabs his jacket and spins him around to his knees.

“Officers!  Halp!”  He screams as patrons stand in their way.

“NO GARBAGE!”  Suga bellows.

She tips back his head and opens his mouth to pour the food down his throat to his shock and dismay as he swallows helpless.  She massages his neck to make sure he gulps it down.  Food pours down his chin as he gargles.

“Thats Zeke’s justice!”  Moe grunts as officers finally get past them to subdue Suga, she bats them off easily until one Tasers her.  She grunts and let’s go of the inspector who drops to his hands and knees coughing and gagging.  They have to Tase her again to finally subdue her.  Everybody is shooting cell phone video.

Tyrone happens to stumble out of the restroom, “Great Googly man I feel a hundred twenty pounds lighter, I wouldn’t use that restroom for about an hour.”  He pauses, notices the inspector on the floor, sauce smeared on his lips as he recovers, the officers holding back the crowd, the place in chaos.

“What’d I miss?”