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Monday, 17 May 2010

Tales Of A WasteMan PART 5

Am I a wasteman, thought Marcus. He looked into Lewis’s face, into his dark and sinister eyes. His ever questioning, always probing eyes. Was there anything that those glossy eye’s missed? Could he lie to Lewis and pretend to be down with him? Pretend to be loyal and trustworthy.

“Naw, blood” said Marcus “I ain’t no wasteman”

“Yo” said Beez.

“What, ya got it?” said Lewis.

“One brick, famo”

How did he do that without turning the stereo on, thought Marcus.

“Naw, blood. I heard man moves two at a time” he looked back to Marcus “is that all of it?”

“Yeah” he lied “how was I supposed to know man’s are rollin around like James Bond, bout his hiding drugs behind screen”

Lewis peered deep into Marcus’s face. Marcus stared back, he blinked.

“Spread ya arm’s, blood” said Lewis, he pulled his gun out and stepped closer.

“What-“

“I said spread ya flippin arm’s, blood!”

Marcus sucked his teeth and reluctantly raised his arms. He looked away from Lewis and the car, over to where the oak tree stood, his stash hoarded amongst its roots.

Lewis went about padding him down, he found the black chrome nine.

“Easy, blood. Man’s got Pierson’s gat”

“What” said Beez “ya see famo, I told dat dis man’s hot. What kinda fool walks around wiv next man’s heat? Are you dumb?”

Marcus shrugged and said “I figured it’d be clean, or man would have dashed it” he shrugged again.

Lewis smiled, a glint almost appeared in his eyes. Marcus shivered.

“Man’s already thinkin wiv his balls, blood” said Lewis “But if that man thinks beyond his reach I’ll put his thoughts on the wall...along with his brains. Ya get me?”

Marcus nodded. Another ridiculous quote, he thought. Where on Earth was he getting them?

“Know ya place, and stay in it”

“Yo, fam lets move” said Beez, the large man wrapped his jacket around his neck “you Birmingham man’s love da cold too much man, its chappin”

“Alright, blood” Lewis sucked his teeth “chu, look how big you are and ya fraid of a little breeze”

“Dis ain’t no breeze, famo. Dis is some serious arctic conditions”

“About arctic conditions. Move out, blood” said Lewis. He looked to Marcus and smiled “Ya know me ennit?”

Stupid question, though Marcus. “What ya mean?”

“I mean ya know I’m crazy, blood. Completely off rocker”

At least he’s honest, though Marcus, “Yeah I know” he said “that’s why ya got me running around like chick, blood”

“To keep ya thinkin, keep ya mind ticking. Ya see I have to have people’s minds just ticking over, blood. Coz mine neva stops. And it makes me nervous when I know man’s minds aren’t ticking, blood. Ya know why?”

“No” said Marcus, he didn’t really care, it was starting to get cold. Yet here he stood, in the middle of Aston park being preached to by a fool.

“Coz if ya keep a man’s mind ticking, he has no time to think about the real stuff. Keep em confused and they flock at ya feet like geese for grain, blood”

Marcus nodded.

“This is how ya keep a man’s mind ticking” said Lewis “I want you to take back Pierson’s whip”

“What!”

“Just listen! Take it back and park it up. I don’t know how ya got man’s keys but park it up and leave it there, roll out” he removed a roll of fifty pound notes wrapped in cling film.

“Fifties, come on blood. I can’t roll around wiv fifties, aint ya got nothing smaller”

“What ya think this is a bank, go drop off man’s car. Come to Stacy’s flat tomorrow. We got something big to plan. If we do this, blood. We’ll be set, for life”

He reached out his fist. Lewis looked down at his bruised and ashy knuckles. Knuckles that had seen many fights, many battles. He reached forward and touched fists with Lewis. Now he was a made-man. He felt something almost leave his body, as if he had just sold his soul.

He squeezed the grand tightly in his hand, yet his palm felt empty, his whole body felt empty. Was it worth it?

He thought about going back to the tree and reclaiming his booty but then again, Lewis could be watching him from somewhere in the darkness.

He left it and drove the car back to Newtown. He pulled into the carpark and came to a stop outside the CountryFoods store. He looked around. It was empty, no sign of Pierson or Choc-Ice’s mangled body.

He got out and ran away as fast as possible. He reached the Newtown swimming baths. Two shady looking me were walking towards him. He gripped the chrome tucked in his jacket pocket. They passed him without a word, they seemed almost scared.

He pressed the button for the stop light and waited. A bus was coming down the road followed by a white van. The bus passed but the van stopped. The side door slid open.

Pierson leaned out pointing a gun at him. The faceless body of Choc-Ice at his feet.

“Get in!”

Marcus wanted to pull out but his body froze again.

“Oi wasteman, get in the van!”

Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Tales Of A WasteMan PART 4

So there he stayed, sitting on the bonnet of the stolen BMW smoking stolen weed. Thinking about his child and wondering if it had any of his features. His nose, his eyes...his feet.

He sighed and stood up, walked away from the car and sat down on the well-kept grass. He leaned back and gazed up at the few stars that he could see.

“I pray my child has more sense than I do” he said and closed his eyes puffing Pierson’s heavy green.

Lewis was adamant that Pierson had a hidden stash in his car, the point is that it’s hidden.

Marcus opened his eyes and sat up, he looked over his shoulder at the car and wondered where it could have been hidden. Marcus wasn’t a drug dealer and had no real desire to become one until Lewis gave him an offer, an offer he should have refused.

He opened the door and began feeling along the panel’s, under the dash board and the seats. He opened every compartment and ash tray, searched every nook and cranny. Once he was satisfied that it wasn’t hidden in an obvious place he put the key in the ignition and switched on the electrics. He then went about twisting every knob and pressing every button. In the end he found nothing, but at least the windows were clean.

“This is long” he said and banged his head on the headdress. He sighed then went about fiddling with the I-Drive knob, turning though all the menu’s. He stopped on the music player and selected the top playlist, entitled ‘DRUG MUSIC’. He opened it and selected Dray-Z ‘s album ‘The Black Tape’. He went straight to track 9, and played his favourite tune from the album, ‘Lucifer’s Gold’.

He nodded to the heavy beat over the classic sample with eyes closed. He grinned and sang along to the chorus

“For the drugs and the women we sold/ We crack ya nose/ Powder ya Hoes/ In dis world of Lucifer’s gold” he paused half way through his dodgy rapping and smiled.

A qwerty keyboard had appeared on the screen. Then he understood, the track selection brings up the menu. Only by chance was ‘Lucifer’s Gold’ his favourite track. It was a slated track as the rapper spoke about worshipping money and the devil. So it wasn’t a track you’d want blaring out of your car.

Now Marcus was grinning wildly, he wanted to see how long this little spurt of luck was going to last. He typed ‘Choc-Ice’ into the keyboard and hit enter.

The music suddenly stops and the screens fades to black, it the sinkes into the dashboard and shifts out of sight. A row of L.E.D lights turned on and illuminated the chasm. Below the tiny lights was two white bricks stacked up, on top of that was a roll of money. An single dribble of spit rolled down the corner of his mouth, he wiped it and took out the roll of money and one brick.

He touched the I-Drive button and the screen re-emerged from the dashboard and the tune continued where it left off. He got out of the car and ran towards the nearest tree. With his bare hands he dug a hole, once his palms felt raw and the hole was deep enough he stopped and removed his left sock, after stuffing the money in his sock he buried it along with the white brick.

He ran back to the car and switched on the windscreen wipers, then went about washing his hands with the tiny jets of water. He rolled another joint and sat in the passenger side with his feet on the dash playing some 80’s soul music through the system.

I’m good, he thought. Once I get that grand from Lewis I’ll be even better.

He smiled while making O’s with the smoke.

Suddenly the door opens and a large hand yanks him from the seat and drops him on the grass. He looks up at the masked figure.

“What ya doin, blood” said the masked figure. He had a strong London accent.

Marcus lay on his back looking up into the barrel of a sawn off shotgun. Another smaller man walks into his eyeline.

“I hope that's not my stash ya smoking, blood” said Lewis.

“Naw, man” said Marcus “This is my ting”

Lewis looked down at him for a moment, trying to read something from Marcus’s face “Ya betta not be lyin to me, blood. Or the smoker will become the smoked”

“Alright safe, man” said Marcus.

“Beez, check da car for me, blood”

“Cool, Fam” said the large figure and walked to the car.

“Get up” said Lewis “I don’t like to be deceived, blood. If I’m gonna bring you into my circle I need to be able to trus ya. A man that can’t be trusted is a man that can’t be walked wiv. Get me, blood”

Here we go, thought Marcus. The ghetto Shakespeare. He nodded.

“And if that man chooses to waste my time then I will waste that man’s life. For he is a waste space, air, and money” said Lewis “Is that you, are you that wasteman?”

Tuesday, 4 May 2010

Tales Of WasteMan PART 3

Pierson walked around the car until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Marcus. He smiled and asked again,

“What ya doin in my car?”

His ever present smile and his relaxed tone was unnerving to Marcus. He was ready for a loud mouth or even a brawler but this calm and collect individual was something different.

“What!” said Marcus digging deep to find a fibre of courage “oi listen yeah, this is my car” he flicked out the Stanley knife pushing out half the blade “tell me I’m wrong, blood”

Pierson smiled again, it wasn’t a nervous smile or even a fake one, he genuinely seemed amused.

“What, ya think this is joke?” said Marcus.

“Actually I do, blood” he looked into the car, into the back seat “but ya just woke up Choc-Ice and she looks pissed”

Marcus slowly looks over his shoulder into the back of the car. With a name like Choc-Ice he expected it would be a dog, but not such a big one. Choc-Ice was a fully-grown male Doberman, black with a white stripe from its chin running down to its stomach. Suddenly a lot of things made sense to him, the unlocked car, the over confidant and smiley Pierson.

“Sorry, blood” said Pierson, laughing mildly “who’s car was it again?”

He swallowed hard. Look at those teeth, he thought. Marcus was a proud man, who would tell anyone who’d care to listen, how brave and fearless he was. Except when it came to dog’s, especially dog’s big enough to take down a man.

“Sorry I didn’t hear you” said Pierson.

Though he didn’t say anything Marcus looked back to Pierson and said,

“I said, it’s my car...blood” he stepped back quickly and slammed the door into Choc-Ice’s head. Pierson runs to him.

Marcus steps back slices Pierson’s face but is knocked over in the process, Pierson falls onto of him. They struggle for possession of the Stanley Knife. Pierson was strong, though he didn’t look it from his medium build but he was very strong. Marcus did the only thing he felt he could do. He took a bite of Pierson’s hand, he screamed but loosened up his grip on the knife. Marcus punched him in the face and rolled to his feet.

Pierson stood and reached round to his back and pulled out his black chrome nine, a certain taste, it matched the colour of his car and his dog, obviously this was a man who liked things a particular way.

“Yeah what, blood” he said, he spat out a wad of blood “what now”

For real, thought Marcus, what now. The Stanley knife in his hand now felt like a cream éclair instead the intimidating weapon it once was. He looked into the barrel of the gun, then to the bloodied man holding it. He dropped his arms and waited for the ‘bang’, because he knew death would shortly follow.

Suddenly the over confidant Pierson started to shake, it wasn’t a nervous shake or even a cold one. This was uncontrollable and erratic, almost like a seizure. He dropped the gun and fell to the ground, crouched up, his body convulsing and shaking like nothing he had ever seen before.

Marcus picked up the gun and turned to walk away. Something within him, the true force that was Marcus Handly urged him to stop. He grabbed Pierson by the head and forced the closed Stanly knife between his clenched jaws. He felt a better for while.

Then he turned to the car, the door slowly opened. Choc-Ice jumped out and started running for him, its growls ran down his spine and to the centre of his back. The extravagant Pierson must have taught Choc-Ice how to open the door.

It barked.

“What!” said Marcus, and shot Choc-Ice in the face.

The dog rolled into a slump next to its shivering owner. Half its face gone.

Marcus gently removed the key’s from Pierson’s pocket, now foam was forming around the Stanley Knife lodged in his jaw. He had never seen someone having an epileptic fit but he was once told to put something between their jaw, to stop them swallowing their tongue or something like that.

He drove away from Newtown towards Nechells via Park Lane in Aston. Police cars shot toward him from Aston Cross. He casually turned onto Upper Sutton street and headed for Victoria road.

His phone rang.

“Yo, you got my ting’s” said Lewis.

“Yeah I got ya ting’s, blood. I’m still in da car now”

“Well tek out my ting’s and ditch the car, simple” he hung up.

Marcus clenched his phone almost smashing it against the dashboard. He had no credit to call back, all he could do was as he was told, for now at least.

Instead of going to Nechells he rolled the car into Aston Park off Frederick road, driving up the curb. He drove over the dusty football pitch that had seen far too many passionate games and parked in the largest garden behind Aston Hall.

He gazed at the old building for a while, it was lit up and almost glowing in the darkness of the park. He had never seen Aston Hall at night, but now that he had he found some appreciation in the old building. It looked almost pretty.

He searched the car but found nothing, only an extra clip for the black chrome nine, and an eighth bag of Bud. Something very strong and very sticky. He pocketed the extra clip and rolled a smoke from Pierson’s stash. He leaned against the stolen BMW smoking borrowed weed, thinking about lost time. The time lost with wifey and baby.

His phone rang.

“Yo, you got my ting’s!” said Lewis.

“The car’s clean, blood. Nufing in it”

“What, ya mean?” he sucked his teeth “Don’t try play me, blood, ya know betta than dat”

“Listen, yeah!” said Marcus “The car’s clean, man must have dropped it off time ago”

“Where are you” said Lewis.

“Aston park, behind Aston Hall”

“What ya doin in Aston Hall, blood”

“I’m parked behind it”

“Don’t be clever, yeah. Me and Beez is gonna pass chu to check for ourselves. Stay there ...wasteman”