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Authors: Wrath James White
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of the street, waving his gun with one hand while wiping the blood and brainmatter from his mouth and chin with the back of his other hand.
I couldn’t believe what I had seen. I thought about the book I had just started reading and what Elijah Muhammed had said about the White man being the devil. I still wasn’t so sure about the white man being the devil but I was almost positive that this one was.
I heard my grandmother’s footsteps moving faster than I ever would have thought they could and then I felt myself being hurled to the floor. She was praying and sweating and scared. I was scared too but I was also impressed. At that moment the white boy with the big shiny gun and the cannibalistic appetite loomed larger than life. A white kid who could walk into a ghetto by his damned self and gun down a member of one of the most vicious drug gangs around, in broad daylight, and then stroll right back out unmolested and unmarred. Here was a muthafucka who didn’t give a fuck. He was obviously insane, eating a niggas brains like it was a damned cheese steak hoagie, but that type of crazy just made you more dangerous by my way of thinking. I didn’t care if he was Satan or not. I wanted to be just like him. I would be and much worse.
My mom made me stay in all night because of the shooting so I didn’t have to face Huey, but I knew there was no avoiding him at school. I was tempted to stay home but I also knew that everyone would know it was because of Huey and I didn’t want all the kids to call me a pussy. Mom still had one of Darryl’s guns around the house somewhere and with yesterday’s drama still fresh in my mind I considered confronting Huey with it. Even then the thought of murdering someone didn’t bother me one bit. I wasn’t planning on eating the nigga’s brains like that white boy but I’d damn sure peel his cap back if I had too. But I didn’t want to think of what would happen to me if I got caught. I liked the idea of walking the streets with the reputation of being a killer but I hated the idea of walking the prison yard for the rest of my life. Besides, I wasn’t certain I could find it anyway. Mom was a master at hiding things she didn’t want me to get a hold of.
As soon as I left the house the other kids walking past on their way to school all turned to look at me. Then they looked back around the corner on Duval Street at something I couldn’t see. I knew that the something was probably Huey or Tank or both of them. I steeled my nerves and stepped on down the street strolling like I was the hardest nigga on the planet.
Iesha, this little red-bone girl who lived up the street from me, came rushing up to me and grabbed my hand. I had a crush on her and she knew it, but fronted like she was naïve. I knew she liked me too, but her mom thought I was a little hoodlum so she had to keep her distance. Her mom would kick her ass at the drop of a dime, even in public. Her hand in mine sent shivers through me and when I turned to look into her light brown eyes all thoughts of Huey fled from me.
“Oh, hi Ieasha. What’s up?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Oh, I know about that shooting last night. The shit happened right in front of my crib. I watched the ambulance take the body away.” Even at ten I knew better than to admit to anyone that I had witnessed a murder. Especially when the killer was a psychotic white man who ate brains.
“No, I mean about Huey sayin’ he’s gonna kick your ass! He’s right around the corner with his brother. You should go back in the house ’fore they catch you!”
The concern and worry in her voice, the fear on her face, wounded me. Didn’t she think I could take care of myself? Shit, I ran that school and had kicked more ass than any ten kids and here she was telling me to run?
“Before they catch me? Bitch, do you see me runnin’! Ain’t no bitch ass North Philly pussy’s gonna kick my ass!”
I said it loud enough for all the kids on the block
I couldn’t believe what I had seen. I thought about the book I had just started reading and what Elijah Muhammed had said about the White man being the devil. I still wasn’t so sure about the white man being the devil but I was almost positive that this one was.
I heard my grandmother’s footsteps moving faster than I ever would have thought they could and then I felt myself being hurled to the floor. She was praying and sweating and scared. I was scared too but I was also impressed. At that moment the white boy with the big shiny gun and the cannibalistic appetite loomed larger than life. A white kid who could walk into a ghetto by his damned self and gun down a member of one of the most vicious drug gangs around, in broad daylight, and then stroll right back out unmolested and unmarred. Here was a muthafucka who didn’t give a fuck. He was obviously insane, eating a niggas brains like it was a damned cheese steak hoagie, but that type of crazy just made you more dangerous by my way of thinking. I didn’t care if he was Satan or not. I wanted to be just like him. I would be and much worse.
My mom made me stay in all night because of the shooting so I didn’t have to face Huey, but I knew there was no avoiding him at school. I was tempted to stay home but I also knew that everyone would know it was because of Huey and I didn’t want all the kids to call me a pussy. Mom still had one of Darryl’s guns around the house somewhere and with yesterday’s drama still fresh in my mind I considered confronting Huey with it. Even then the thought of murdering someone didn’t bother me one bit. I wasn’t planning on eating the nigga’s brains like that white boy but I’d damn sure peel his cap back if I had too. But I didn’t want to think of what would happen to me if I got caught. I liked the idea of walking the streets with the reputation of being a killer but I hated the idea of walking the prison yard for the rest of my life. Besides, I wasn’t certain I could find it anyway. Mom was a master at hiding things she didn’t want me to get a hold of.
As soon as I left the house the other kids walking past on their way to school all turned to look at me. Then they looked back around the corner on Duval Street at something I couldn’t see. I knew that the something was probably Huey or Tank or both of them. I steeled my nerves and stepped on down the street strolling like I was the hardest nigga on the planet.
Iesha, this little red-bone girl who lived up the street from me, came rushing up to me and grabbed my hand. I had a crush on her and she knew it, but fronted like she was naïve. I knew she liked me too, but her mom thought I was a little hoodlum so she had to keep her distance. Her mom would kick her ass at the drop of a dime, even in public. Her hand in mine sent shivers through me and when I turned to look into her light brown eyes all thoughts of Huey fled from me.
“Oh, hi Ieasha. What’s up?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Oh, I know about that shooting last night. The shit happened right in front of my crib. I watched the ambulance take the body away.” Even at ten I knew better than to admit to anyone that I had witnessed a murder. Especially when the killer was a psychotic white man who ate brains.
“No, I mean about Huey sayin’ he’s gonna kick your ass! He’s right around the corner with his brother. You should go back in the house ’fore they catch you!”
The concern and worry in her voice, the fear on her face, wounded me. Didn’t she think I could take care of myself? Shit, I ran that school and had kicked more ass than any ten kids and here she was telling me to run?
“Before they catch me? Bitch, do you see me runnin’! Ain’t no bitch ass North Philly pussy’s gonna kick my ass!”
I said it loud enough for all the kids on the block
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