table. As soon as the Whites left it to go work out; those Mexicans squatting on the curb got up and sat on our table. They immediately started up a pinochle card game. One of those card games can last up to an hour and would surely promote another game and probably turn into a gambling deal which would make it that much harder to pry them off.
Damon said, “Looks like we have to keep that table occupied to keep it.” I grunted and said, “Or…We could just let them have it and have our race meet in the middle of the yard everyday to sit in a circle, hold hands and sing Cumbaya my Lord and see if the Mexicans respect that enough to give us the table back.”
Chapter 17
Lying on his bunk in his cell Jason’s head nodded and his chin rested on his chest. His hands continually scratched his stomach. He moaned, “That’s some good heroin.”
Jason’s cell mate, Blockhead shook his head and knew the yard was in trouble. While Jason was fixing the heroin in a spoon he got from Termite a few minutes ago, he explained that Lefty in the cell next door owed Termite $550. Blockhead knew Jason was partly responsible. He was the one who ran the dope for Termite. The way he was staying high and developing a habit was by finding Termite buyers. Jason knew Lefty couldn’t afford the dope; he had long ago burnt out his family and didn’t have any bridges left to play with. But that didn’t stop him or Jason from feeding it to him to get a cut.
Chapter 18
The yard was at full capacity, the war was over, and Damon and I had worked out a program where the White men who didn’t work out stayed at the White table in shifts to hold on to the only real estate that would keep us organized enough to survive. We were just finishing up our workout routine in our usual spot by our buried swords in the back corner when Blockhead walked up looking serious. “Hey brothers, I have some bad news.”
Chapter 19
Termite walked the track with Stranger and Cyclone and Stranger said, “I got the yard for the Mexicans now and I want you to be my mouth piece Cyclone.”
Cyclone was out of his element. A murderous rage flowed through his blood and his instincts were on edge. He didn’t say anything because he couldn’t. He’d already told all his homeboys that the yard was his. All of San Bernardino would think he was a joke if he became Stranger’s puppet. The whole inland empire and every other Mexican with a 13 tattooed on their body would laugh at him. He thought about it, nobody has ever disrespected me and lived!
Termite knew he was outgunned and felt the tension radiating off Cyclone and Stranger. Stranger knew that Cyclone had asserted that he had the keys to the yard and was calling shots. He also knew that Cyclone had squeezed in on Termite for a cut of his dope. Having more experience, he knew that it was put up or shut up time and stopped walking. Both Termite and Cyclone were caught off guard and kept walking a few paces then stopped, both with confused looks on their faces, they turned to look at Stranger. Stranger said, “Termite from this point on a third of the dope you bring in goes to the house.” Termite nodded his head he was fine with that and thought about it, Stranger just left the biggest mobsters in southern California at Palm Hall in Chino prison where they’re waiting for a bus ride to the Pelican Bay SHU. I don't want to get on their bad side. Cyclone stared at Stranger with so much uncomfortable energy flooding through his veins he felt himself shaking, on the edge of aiming that force against Stranger just to get it over with.
Chapter 20
I told Blockhead, "Thanks for telling us, go get Jason." Stranger, Termite and Cyclone stopped on the track right in front of us.
I got up and walked just close enough to the 3 Mexicans and stood 10 feet away and felt their energy and zeroed in on Cyclone. His hands were balled up in fist and they were shaking. I watched Stranger's eyes drop and
Damon said, “Looks like we have to keep that table occupied to keep it.” I grunted and said, “Or…We could just let them have it and have our race meet in the middle of the yard everyday to sit in a circle, hold hands and sing Cumbaya my Lord and see if the Mexicans respect that enough to give us the table back.”
Chapter 17
Lying on his bunk in his cell Jason’s head nodded and his chin rested on his chest. His hands continually scratched his stomach. He moaned, “That’s some good heroin.”
Jason’s cell mate, Blockhead shook his head and knew the yard was in trouble. While Jason was fixing the heroin in a spoon he got from Termite a few minutes ago, he explained that Lefty in the cell next door owed Termite $550. Blockhead knew Jason was partly responsible. He was the one who ran the dope for Termite. The way he was staying high and developing a habit was by finding Termite buyers. Jason knew Lefty couldn’t afford the dope; he had long ago burnt out his family and didn’t have any bridges left to play with. But that didn’t stop him or Jason from feeding it to him to get a cut.
Chapter 18
The yard was at full capacity, the war was over, and Damon and I had worked out a program where the White men who didn’t work out stayed at the White table in shifts to hold on to the only real estate that would keep us organized enough to survive. We were just finishing up our workout routine in our usual spot by our buried swords in the back corner when Blockhead walked up looking serious. “Hey brothers, I have some bad news.”
Chapter 19
Termite walked the track with Stranger and Cyclone and Stranger said, “I got the yard for the Mexicans now and I want you to be my mouth piece Cyclone.”
Cyclone was out of his element. A murderous rage flowed through his blood and his instincts were on edge. He didn’t say anything because he couldn’t. He’d already told all his homeboys that the yard was his. All of San Bernardino would think he was a joke if he became Stranger’s puppet. The whole inland empire and every other Mexican with a 13 tattooed on their body would laugh at him. He thought about it, nobody has ever disrespected me and lived!
Termite knew he was outgunned and felt the tension radiating off Cyclone and Stranger. Stranger knew that Cyclone had asserted that he had the keys to the yard and was calling shots. He also knew that Cyclone had squeezed in on Termite for a cut of his dope. Having more experience, he knew that it was put up or shut up time and stopped walking. Both Termite and Cyclone were caught off guard and kept walking a few paces then stopped, both with confused looks on their faces, they turned to look at Stranger. Stranger said, “Termite from this point on a third of the dope you bring in goes to the house.” Termite nodded his head he was fine with that and thought about it, Stranger just left the biggest mobsters in southern California at Palm Hall in Chino prison where they’re waiting for a bus ride to the Pelican Bay SHU. I don't want to get on their bad side. Cyclone stared at Stranger with so much uncomfortable energy flooding through his veins he felt himself shaking, on the edge of aiming that force against Stranger just to get it over with.
Chapter 20
I told Blockhead, "Thanks for telling us, go get Jason." Stranger, Termite and Cyclone stopped on the track right in front of us.
I got up and walked just close enough to the 3 Mexicans and stood 10 feet away and felt their energy and zeroed in on Cyclone. His hands were balled up in fist and they were shaking. I watched Stranger's eyes drop and
Similar Books
