Category Archives: story time

Final Judgment – Part 1.

Installment 1

The Crescent Bay Cemetery is real estate for the wealthy. Even in death they chose to share their eternal slumber with the elite. The soil here is no better than the soil across town and the worms are not of an exotic breed. The bodies here will decay like all other flesh. At least, most of them will. For tonight there is a woman who has dark designs for one recently deceased judge. Judge Joseph Leminsky. He is the judge that presided over the trail of her husband’s killer. Bethany Corazon had no malice towards the judge; he did an admirable job that led to the murderer’s conviction. But the defendant, Mackenzie Cobb didn’t agree with the judgment and swore to come back and kill the judge, the jury and the witnesses for the prosecution. Cobb was true to his word, because he escaped the prison transport and found his way to Judge Leminsky’s home. Those were the events that left his honor to reside in a plot in Crescent Bay.

Bethany’s intentions this night are to resurrect the judge by performing an arcane ritual. One she knows better than to use, but she feels that desperately needs to conduct this rite. She needs to make Judge Leminsky’s corpse a servant of her will. It’s the only way she can get vengeance.

Bethany chants while she is spoiling the earth that conceals the dead. “I call on the forces of night and shadow. I call on the spirits within this hallowed ground. Let he who in life condemned the wicked continue his work as an agent of my will.” She continues, “Let the sweat and blood of my tireless work be a sacrifice for these spirits, evidence of my need for your aide.”

She exhumes the carcass and reveals her nakedness to perform a dance that will bend his body to her whims and commands. She uses the items that were buried with him, his gavel and his robe to bind him. The sweat from her body is the key ingredient to the spell she is casting. As Bethany dances she wields the gavel and brandishes it about and the judges body begins to stir. She bangs the gavel on the tombstone and it starts to transmute it’s essence from wood to stone. The tombstone of the resurrected judge now crumbles to dust. Clouds form in the sky and thunder begins to rumble violently. The wind blows in gusts scattering the dust from the tombstone and envelopes the body of the judge. His rest is over he is now at her command, his skin, now stone and his resolve is the only part of his form that remains dead. He is hers now, body and what is left of his soul. The rain that falls is thick and slaps on the judge’s stone form with a tone that rivals the thunderclap from the storm. Bethany grins at the result of her dark labors. She says, “Now we begin our work. Now the justice I seek is at hand and Cobb will pay for what he’s done. We were both his victims, now with your body and my will; we will be the agents of his Final Judgment.

Leave a comment

Filed under fiction, final judgment, story time

Journey of A Magical Negro: The Story of Solomon Lincoln

Chapter One

Solomon Lincoln Lays in an alleyway bleeding out. The darkness of the night and the black asphalt don’t quite mask the pool of blood that surrounds him. Only to the vigilant and determined eyes does the pool’s crimson tinge and slightly acrid odor reveal his peril. But to all cursory glances he looks like he belongs there. Just another black vagrant resting in a pool of his own urine, unable to contend with the dark liquor he apparently over indulged in.

What goes unseen in the distance is Adonis Paylor with his lungs straining as he urges his legs to propel him away from danger, a danger that was temporarily averted because of Solomon and his sacrifice. Good old Solomon who entered Adonis’ life just when everything in his world was spinning completely out of control. Solomon made it a point to steer him out of trouble and offered much unasked for and underappreciated counsel. When Adonis wouldn’t listen Solomon would know just where to find him and have the exact method to get him out of a tight spot. He never asked for anything in return. Paylor never thought about what made him so selfless it was almost like he expected Sol to be there for him. They hadn’t known each other for too long, but for some reason the situation just felt right to Adonis. A guardian angel came into his life at his time of need, but now Solomon Lincoln needed him. He was a good fifteen blocks away when he just couldn’t run anymore, hunched over with his hands pressed just above his knees as the sweat that collected on his forehead trickled down his nose and dripped silently on the street. Moments later after catching his breath, he stood upright and patted himself down, straightening out his clothes, rubbing his eyes and taking a long deep and sobering breath of the chilly night air. After he felt he was alert and presentable he hailed a cab and sent a text message to his fiancée, “Vanessa I need you to meet me at O’Keefe’s Bar. It’s Urgent!” He heads back to where he last saw Solomon, or Link, as he liked to call him. When he gets there he tells the cab driver to idle across the street from O’Keefe’s and waits for Vanessa to Arrive.

She opens the door to O’Keefe’s about twenty minutes later and does a quick survey of the bar, looking for Adonis to be on a stool when she faintly makes out the ring tone accompanied by a rumbling in her purse. She answers her phone, “Donnie, I don’t see you where are…”

Adonis interrupts, “I’m across the street in a yellow cab with the meter running. I need you to get a bouncer and go into the alley. Link is down there and I think he’s pretty bad off.”

She responds, “Why didn’t you call an ambulance? How long has he been there?”

“It’s complicated honey, there may not be much time. Just do this for me then meet me in the cab. We’ll follow the ambulance when it arrives.” He pauses, trying to remember the details of tonight’s events. “Oh, and my wallet is in my jacket it should be on the coat rack by the bartender. Just get to Link and I’ll explain everything in the cab.”

The cab driver raises an eyebrow at the news Adonis doesn’t have his wallet on him, and he takes a quick glance his rear view mirror. The man in his back seat looks a little disheveled and panicked, but he’s got freshly cut dirty blond hair is relatively clean shaven and has deep blue eyes. The cabbie decides, “I’d trust this man with my newborn baby, my wife and my life savings, he’ll probably leave a nice tip too.”

Vanessa shrieks when she gets to the alley, “Oh, Link! Link are you okay?”

He stirs slowly awake, looking up at her. He smiles, “Well if you’re tending to me, I take it Adonis is making out just fine. Knowing that makes me feel much better, all things considered.” He winks at her and drifts back out of consciousness, closing his eyes and keeping a satisfied grin on his bulbous lips.

Sometime Later Solomon awakens in a hospital room with a bandage dressing down his right side with his left arm in a sling. Donnie and Vanessa are sitting by his bed while the nurse changes the tube for his IV drip. It takes a while for his eyes to adjust and the view of the room comes into focus. Adonis rests his hand on Solomon’s shoulder and for a brief moment Solomon grits his teeth and furrows his brow. He then contorts his face into a wince indicating pain as opposed to resentment or more accurately anger. He reaches across to put his hand on top of Adonis’ and asks, “You wouldn’t happen to see my glasses around here, would you?”

“Glasses?” Adonis says puzzled, “I didn’t even know you wore glasses, Link.”

“Well, I don’t normally, but I keep them in my jacket pocket along with my contact lens case, he continues. “Practically blind without ‘em. I suppose it’s for the best though, the way I feel I’d hate to actually see the shape I’m in.”

Vanessa let out a nervous laugh, she could never tell when Solomon was joking, and he spoke plainly most of the time. Adonis sat stunned at the revelation that Link wore glasses. Link knew so much about him and did so much for him, but what did he do for Link? What did he even know about him? Link came well near death tonight and Adonis realized he didn’t even know his birthday or where he was from. He didn’t even know his phone number. This didn’t sit right with him. Vanessa’s nervous laughter just made things more uncomfortable. The discomfort stemming from the sudden awareness that Link, who is laying in a hospital bed on his behalf was little more than an abstract idea of a person to him only forty seconds ago. Not knowing what the diagnosis was yet, there was a good chance he’d be asked to notify Solomon’s next of kin. Adonis Paylor was now responsible for his guardian angel. For this man that did so much for him, even took the beating he deserved. Adonis had some questions now, and he was hoping Link would provide answers. He was praying for answers he could live with.

Leave a comment

Filed under fiction, solomon lincoln, story time

The Stunning Adventures of Beeboy part 1

Beeboy Chronicles

Chapter 1

I don’t know how to ease you into this, so I’m just gonna come out and say it. I just beat King Midas’ ass. King Midas is the number one rap artist on the charts 4 months running. The artist that’s been accused of shooting at his long time rival Mogadishu in a crowded club. King Midas, with the Platinum Touch. And me, Charlie Pitman. Whupped. His. Ass. First lyrically then literally. Only these days people don’t know me as Charlie Pitman, they know me as Beeboy. I’m sort of a super-hero. Well, I don’t know that I’m a hero. I don’t help little kids get their cats out of trees or patrol the streets looking to stop purse-snatchers. However, if I see something off, I do something about it.  But that’s not my mission; my mission is to take down Anderson Voss, the CEO of Sound Off Records and his team. It’s not vengeance. I’m not an angry rapper that he wouldn’t sign. I’m an angry rapper that he wanted to sign. He wanted to make me rich and famous, all I had to do was sell-out. Not just making catchy pop tunes and shilling my own brand of premium vodka. He wanted me to encode messages over my music at a subliminal level. He wanted to actively make all of you dumber. And he wanted me to take a check and be cool with it.

Chapter 2

The day started out so well. All the trains arrived just as I got to the platform. I passed my pop quiz in finance and finally got Tabby from Intro to Marketing to agree to catch dinner and a movie with me. Things are looking up. Tabby’s not even a business major; she’s in the telecom department. But she’s one of the few students that did better than me on the quiz, and I got a 96. Not only is she smart, she’s really cute. She’s about 5’6” and fit I think she runs track or something. The body fat she does have seems to have found it’s way to the areas that I find really appealing.

She’s mixed; I can’t remember if it’s Dominican and Chinese or Cuban and Korean. Hell you could tell me she was from Jupiter and it wouldn’t stop me from trying to get with her. Anyway, we’re going to see some teenage vampire love story. Which I’m not even a little interested in, but I could sit in a corner with her and watch paint dry for five hours. All this just to say this has been pretty much the perfect day, up until now.

Tonight was the night. The big emcee battle at the Ziggurat. The Ziggurat is the big nightclub that does the emcee battles downtown on Thursday nights. King Midas is supposed to be here hosting and judging. He won the emcee battle a few years ago. Sound Off Records sponsored it. The winner earned a 10-album deal and a two million dollar advance for the first album. When King Midas got the contract his fortune changed over night. He was doing cameos on songs with people in the top 40 charts. He was endorsing some rum and had a restaurant a clothing company and all of this amazing stuff before he dropped his first single. True to his name, everything he touched turned to gold.

I got to the Ziggurat club maybe ten minutes ago. Tonight is the semi-finals for the big Emcee Battle, and somehow I’m up against Mogadishu. Mogadishu is an older cat from Brooklyn. Deep in Brooklyn. The part of Brooklyn where the sun doesn’t shine in August. The part of Brooklyn the Mayor would leave off the map if he could. A corner of East New York that cop cars go into sirens blazing and go out with four flat tires and gasoline leaking from the fuel tank. Mogadishu is the guy standing behind the cop car with an assault rife in one hand and a lit match in the other. That’s the story I’ve heard anyway. They don’t say he’s a one-man army, they say he’s a walking war zone.

Now I’m not sure how he made it this far in the Emcee Battle. I don’t know whether he got by on the merits of his lyrical abilities or bullied his way to his spot; but it looks like I’m about to find out.

Leave a comment

Filed under beeboy, fiction, story time