"Lived by the gun. Survived... On the run."Check out the first chapter of the riveting new book, Nan: The Trifling Times of Nathan Jones, from 88HIPHOP's own, Moses Miller!!!!
Part 1 of 4.
The only light illuminating the front of the three-story brick apartment building on Albany Avenue, emanated from the half moon that was clearly visible in the darkened sky. A black van had been discretely parked outside of the building for the past hour, as the occupants patiently waited for the right time to make their exit. They were hardly in a rush. A thick cloud of smoke filled the van’s interior, the by-product of the Sergeant’s Newport addiction. He had quickly puffed his way through a pack and a half in the last hour alone, only putting down his cigarette to take a swig from his metal whiskey flask. Without much thought, he flicked his shrunken cigarette butt to the van’s floor and stomped it out with the sole of his rundown leather loafer.
Being six-foot tall, the Sergeant had to bend down awkwardly as he paced back and forth inside the cargo van. Digangi and Dickson sat in the back leaning uncomfortably against the van’s metal wall, resting their tired eyes. On the other side of the van, Rodriguez, the only female amongst the crew, rested her head up against the cold steel wheel well.
She clutched her black 9-milimeter in the palm of her right hand as she stared at the picture of her two sons, which adorned the heart shaped gold charm that she always wore around her neck. The youngest was only two, and his brother was four. She had left them with their father, who was in a deep sleep, when she quietly exited their apartment in Bensonhurst a couple of hours ago.
She tried to rest her eyes, but she couldn’t get them off of her mind. Her husband, Jose wasn’t exactly Mr. Mom. He was more like the absent-minded professor. She had purposely written down a list that intricately laid out everything he had to do for the boys in her absence, but she knew that he would still forget something.
“Rodriguez,” the Sergeant yelled out in his gruff voice, just loud enough to startle her.
“Aye, Vie,” Rodriguez responded, as she sat up and wiped her eyes.
“You should have gotten yourself some rest. I’m a need you completely focused when you go up there, Lisa,” the Sergeant said. He was now kneeling down whispering, his face within two inches of hers. She squinted her watery eyes and held her breath as he spoke, putting up her best defense against the thick vapor he expelled from his mouth, which reeked of cigarettes and the undeniable stench of whiskey.
The Sergeant was what could best be described as a bubble invader. Whether it was a method of intimidation, or just the way he was comfortable communicating with others, he always conversed in very close quarters. He leaned his massive frame towards Rodriguez, and whispered quietly in her ear.
“Don’t worry about a thing Lisa. You’ll be home hugging those two little sluggers before you know it.”
“I know, it’s just Jose. He—”
Sarge interrupted her mid-sentence. “Shh!!! Think about that sh*t later. You need to focus on what you can impact now…anything else will get you killed out there.”
She nodded her head in acknowledgment. She knew he was telling her the truth. “You’re right Sarge. I’m a get focused…I won’t let you down.”
In an apartment a few stories above, Nan softly licked his girlfriend Leslie’s bellybutton, before slowly working his way up her caramel complexioned body, only stopping once he reached her inviting ******. She willingly opened her legs, moaning slightly as she felt his manhood enter inside of her. As he stroked, she moved her body in unison, letting him in deeper and deeper. He penetrated her wet insides, working the walls of her ****** in smooth motions.
“Oh, Nan…oh, baby you got some good stuff…oh, my god,” she moaned passionately.
Her soft hands tightly gripped his back, pulling him into her as she panted in a soft whisper. Sensing her desire, he pushed himself deeper inside of her, feeling the warmth of her wet juices as his ***** rubbed against her ****** walls. Her body shivered ever so slightly in his arms.
“I’m coming Nathan,” she yelled out seductively. Nan got up on his knees as she moaned, arching his back as he began to stroke harder, but refraining from being overly aggressive with her. Still stroking, he held her legs over his shoulders as he began to climax as well. The rhythmic rocking motion of the queen-sized bed slowly came to a halt, as Nan laid his sweaty body down on Leslie’s exposed ******.
“Are you all right? You don’t have any pains right?” Nan asked in a concerned manner.
“You’re so funny. You ask the same question every time we make love. You don’t have to worry, the baby is all right Nathan,” she said, as she stroked her hand through his short hair. “The baby can’t feel anything that you be doing down there.”
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, you know I’m packing a little sumthin’ sumthin’.”
She mushed his head and said, “You are so silly.”
Leslie was shapely and well proportioned. She was only two months into her pregnancy, 130 pounds and not even showing yet. As a matter of fact, only her close friends even knew that she was pregnant. Nan rested his chiseled frame back on top of her busty chest. She willingly obliged, letting him lay on her for a good five minutes before she had had enough.
“You gotta get up Boo,” she said as she nudged his shoulder. “You’re gonna be late for work…besides, you’re smothering me and the baby.”
Nan laughed to himself, kissing her on her forehead as he rolled over, preparing to get out of the bed.
“Oh, now I’m hurting the baby? How convenient,” he said laughing out loud again.
He stared at the peeling paint on the bedroom wall, trying to will himself to get up and take a shower. Finally, he leaned over towards Leslie and kissed her softly on her neck, before whispering, “I love you,” in her ear.
“I love you too, Nathan,” she replied softly.
Sitting there, he looked Leslie directly in her light brown eyes. She always called him by his government name, and he didn’t mind it. She was so beautiful to him…the second most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on.
Leslie was a triage nurse at Beth Israel Medical Center. As fate would have it, she just happened to work a double shift the night that Nan had been wheeled into the emergency room on a gurney, bleeding profusely from gaping gunshot wounds to his chest and shoulder. Barely breathing, she held his bloody hand tightly as he fought for his life.
“Don’t give up. You have to fight,” she whispered over and over to him. Her voice sounded angelic. As he slipped in and out of consciousness, the touch of her hand clenching his own, gave him strength and lifted his spirits.
After Nan’s successful surgery, she visited him several times while he was recovering. Nan was a lot more “street” than Leslie, but his enchanting personality and the fact that he was well versed on so many different subjects, made them connect immediately. They could easily talk for hours about anything, never growing bored of one another.
Everyday after Nan was released from the hospital, he sent roses to Leslie. Shy and reclusive, she purposely avoided his advances. But, within a few weeks they were dating…and three months later they were in love and living together. Leslie’s friends teased her, because she was dating someone four years younger than her, but she didn’t care. Nan was her soul mate, and she loved him with her complete heart.
Nan sat up in the bed, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his right hand, before getting up and walking out into the hallway and entering the bathroom. He flicked the light switch on, and slowly closed the door behind him, its hinges making a creaking noise as it slammed shut. As he turned the knobs in the shower, hot water shot out of the metallic showerhead, spraying the green mildewed tile and the shower curtain with a light mist. He stepped into the shower, feeling immediately relaxed as the hot water beads slammed against his sweaty body.
It was approximately 1:45am. Nan had plenty of time to stop at the bodega and pick up a juice and something to snack on, before heading in to work. Less than a month ago, he had started working at a loading dock down by the Brooklyn Naval Yard. The hours were awkward and the gig only paid $7 an hour, but Nan wasn’t complaining.
This was actually the first time in his life that he held down a legal gig, and this was by far the most fulfilling job he had ever done. It wasn’t much money, but at work he didn’t have to look over his shoulder, or fear for his life. He was making an honest day’s pay, for an honest day’s work. Not the type of paper he was used to making, but he still felt as if he could definitely get used to this.
He rubbed soap all over his chest, making a nice soapy lather. The steady stream that shot out of the hot showerhead caused a thick steamy fog to form in the bathroom. Nan closed his eyelids, feeling fully invigorated in his relaxing surroundings.
“Let’s go people, it’s time to roll,” Sarge yelled out in his deep baritone voice. Without much thought, Digangi and Dickson popped open the van’s back door and the cold air from the wintry night immediately began to seep inside.
“You know the routine people, short and sweet. In and out. Plant the evidence, take out the perp…no witnesses.”
Excerpt taken from Nan: The Trifling Times of Nathan Jones
Written with a sharpened #2 pencil by: Moses Miller
Published by Mind Candy, LLC info@mindcandymedia.com
To buy the book, visit Nan: The Trifling Times of Nathan Jones
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