"Nan: The Trifling Times of Nathan Jones, written by Moses Miller, is in stores now!!!!
Part 4 of 4. “Omigosh, Nathan. Please, baby. Whatchu doing to us? Please…what’s going on? Where’s Leslie? Please tell me you didn’t hurt that girl,” she started to cry out loudly. She was distraught. Nan didn’t want to hurt them, but he needed her to be silent. There was mayhem all around him…he just needed time to think.
“They killed her, Ms. Cooper. They killed her,” he repeated as he unconsciously shook his gun at them. He paced back and forth in the living room, waving the glock as he tried to regain his composure. His actions immediately hushed Ms. Cooper’s questions while she mentally prayed for her well being.
Nan glanced over at D.J., who stood just inches away from him. Nan saw himself in D.J. The innocence was there. He tried to gather his thoughts, but the blaring sirens and lights outside hindered his ability to focus. Ms. Cooper decided to take a chance. She decided that she would approach Nan and attempt to rationalize with him.
She couldn’t believe that the kind young man who lived directly across the hall was standing in her apartment drenched in sweat, brandishing a gun. Wasn’t he the same gentleman that helped her with her groceries every now and then? Didn’t Leslie joyfully tell her about the baby that they anticipated? Nothing made sense, but her heart beckoned her to coach him out of his insanity.
“Nathan. Whatever is going on, God can provide an answer. God can take care of it baby. I promise I won’t let nothing happen to you. Please just tell me what you need,” she pleaded.
Nan just shook his head. “I ain’t trying to hurt you Ms. Cooper,” he said apologetically.
“I know baby. What do you need from me? Is it money…anything?” She reached out and gripped his hand. Her frail fingers shook, as she held onto him, still in mental prayer. Nan’s eyes quickly scanned the room, noticing a window, just in the master bedroom. To his luck, no protective bars were present.
“I need to get outta here. I need to go…from there,” he pointed in the direction of the bedroom window. Ms. Cooper was bewildered by his suggestion, but keeping her promise to help him out, she escorted Nan through the bedroom as quickly as her old legs allowed.
Ms. Cooper rested her hand on his back as a coddling tactic. It was subconscious, but needed nonetheless. Her touch soothed him for the moment, as he opened the window and inspected the alley below. Before he slid through the window’s frame, Ms. Cooper embraced him angelically, another subconscious action that her heart compelled her to perform. In her mind, she recited another mental prayer. This time she prayed for Nan’s well being, just as he propped himself on top of her twin sized bed, and slowly worked his body backwards until he was holding onto the window ledge by the tips of his fingers.
Nan’s legs dangled freely in the air beneath him. Flashing lights blared frequently, but surprisingly, there was no police presence. Apparently, no one had the foresight to stakeout the alley. After a half a minute or so passed, he let go of the ledge, landing securely on his feet after making the twenty-foot drop. His body jerked from impact, as the shotgun slammed against his thigh, bruising him slightly.
Concealed in the darkness of the alleyway, he leaned his back up against the wall as he plotted out his next move. Cold wind blew in his face, filling his nostrils with the disgusting stench of stale urine. The police cruisers were less than forty feet away from him to his left, and there was a fence that led to a lot down the far end of the alley, which was off to his right. He was just about to start walking towards the fence, when a light that he saw in his peripheral vision startled him.
To his left, a figure had entered the alleyway and sparked a lighter in order to light his cigarette. Puzzled, Nan stayed still, patiently studying the individual’s movements closely before deciding his next move. Even in the coldness of the night, sweat slowly trickled down his chest.
The man’s back was facing towards Nan, but he undoubtedly knew who it was. Nan’s instincts told him to start heading towards the fence. He had time…he could disappear unnoticed. But, he gave into his heart and conflicting emotions.
Slowly and stealthily he walked towards the street, using the dark shadows of the alley as concealment. Perspiration slicked his face, as he lessoned the distance between himself and the street. He was so angry, so engulfed and overtaken by hate, that he didn’t notice the discarded Pepsi can lying directly in his path. When he was within ten feet of the street, his foot kicked the can. It wasn’t a hard kick, but it was enough of a disturbance to get the Sergeant’s attention.
Startled, he dropped his cigarette, turning to look into the darkened alley. He immediately saw Nan as he crept through the shadows. The Sergeant recognized his face as he looked into his cold bloodshot eyes, and immediately went for his gun. Nan hesitated to raise his shotgun, only reacting after a bullet sailed past him closely.
Nan refocused his attention, reacting to his opponent’s attack by squeezing down on the shotgun’s trigger. The shotgun blast rang out loudly, lifting the Sergeant clearly off of his feet. He yelled out in a painful shriek as he landed on his back, and his head slammed onto the hard concrete in a pool of blood.
As Nan prepared to retreat, a young white uniformed policeman ran around the corner with his gun drawn. “Freeze motherf*cker!” He yelled.
Nan thought about trying to turn the gun on the cop, but it would have been to his own detriment. The police officer had the drop on him. He had caught him by surprise. Nan threw the shotgun down in front of him, and raised his hands over his head.
“Get down on your f**kin’ knees motherf**ker!”
Reluctantly, Nan followed the officer’s orders. He had no choice.
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
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