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The Great American N!gga – Short Story By: Eric Blair (@HeavyAsHeaven84)

The Great American N!gga – Short Story By: Eric Blair (@HeavyAsHeaven84)
0 comments, 12/03/2012, by , in General, Short Story



“I hear you talk about how you looked up to your brother, how was he as a person overall?” Rose asks as she sits across from C.J. at his dining room table.


“Here is the story about my brother through my eyes… He was a strong, fun, funny, smart, cunning, passionate, at times dark, cold, and a depressing young man. He was the first person to teach me the other meaning of life.”


Rose interjects, “The other meanin’? Elaborate please.”


“Shit, I was until you rudely interrupted me.”


Rose utters with a whisper, “Sorry.”


“See, you’re doing it again! I kid, I kid but we digress.”


“Alexander taught me about the other things in life, the things we never learned in school. Things like heartbreak, women, and the barbaric ways of humanity. He once told me there are people in this world who are beyond selfish or self-centered. In his line of work he witnessed and encountered those types of people every day. I actually watched someone’s mother give her last few dollars for a hit. After Alex sold her some drugs she left her newborn on the corner just to shoot up. She left her newborn on a cold, dark, dirty, steamy corner. He kind of introduced me to a reality I was sheltered from. I will never forget the lessons I’ve learned from him. I use some of those sprinkles of dark spots in humanity in many of our skits. He was a parody of the world he lived in. I never understood, but I would never question why he did the things he did, he was a brilliant kid. He graduated high school at the top of his class. There were at least five ofAmerica’s best universities ready to pay his way through college. I do know one of those schools was Ivy League.  Insane, right? Alex felt as if college would be a false representation of who he really was. He didn’t go to college; I don’t think he was ever looking to attend college. Funny, he had the world in his palm, but he wanted to stay in the hood for some street dreams. He thought he could make it in the streets, “The American Way” of becoming a millionaire. In actuality, he could have changed the game because he was a genius, book smart, street smart, and had common sense. Ha, funny huh? It’s funny at some point in my life I actually saw myself running a “family business” with my brother, like Nino Brown and G-Money. Movies, they have a powerful impact on young, impressionable minds. Well, one day Alex— Wait, give me a second, I need a sip of water. My throat is parched from talking.” *Long sip*

“Aaaaah. Well, I was about nine or ten years old, all my homework was done I was bored in the house. Alex came home with two duffle bags full of money, he ran upstairs to put his stuff up. He ran back down the steps at full speed, he stopped at the entrance of the living room and glared over at me and said,”


“What cha doin’?”

I replied, “Nothin, I am done with homework.”

He then smirked and replied with a sense of pride, “You wanna take a ride with me?”

I replied, “Sure.”


“I ran to the front door in excitement to hang with my big brother. He was already sitting in this black ’97 Mercedes Benz with shiny silver rims. The rims always stuck out to me, because it was like holograms would come out of them when the sun hits them right, beautiful car, Rose. We rode around together with the sun roof open and windows down, music blasting in the middle of the spring. It was a beautiful day; everybody was outside, just watching us roll by. Rose, I was happy to be with Alex, in this dope ass car. We rode around to several corners, young guys would approach the car and drop backpacks of God knows what in the back seat. They would pretend to talk to my brother about some bullshit and drop a backpack in the back seat. I never asked questions because I was so happy to be with my big brother. We passed corners and people would shout out his name as if he was a neighborhood superstar. There were mostly women who shouted his name. So we pulled up on the corner of twentieth and Dickerson and Alex just bolted out of the car toward this guy name Cheese. Cheese was this tall, bony, pale, light skinned guy. Cheese and Alex exchanged words, mostly Alex. Alex calmly said,“Where is my money, Cheese?”  Cheese’s voice quivered as he stumbled over his words, “Ri-Right H-Here, Alex. I waz ‘bout to cum look fo’ you.”  Alex replied with a calm, dark voice, “Is that a fact? When?”  Cheese begun to sweat as he lowered his gaze, “To-To-Today. But ya kno’, the block was busy.”  Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath and uttered, “Please give me my money, Tyree.”


Cheese went to the stash area and came back with a brown paper bag full of money. He handed the bag to Alex. Alex turned away from Cheese to walk back to the car and Cheese had to say something, he could have done with out anymore words but noooo Cheese had to run his big fucking mouth by saying,


“We cool, Al?”


Alex turned around and shot Cheese in both of his hips. The gun shots rang out so loud people in earshot ran for cover including myself. The shots were on point, one shot for each side. Cheese released a roar of sobbing and screams as he lied on the ground holding his hips. Alex slowly walked back over to Cheese with a stone, blank look on his face. He leaned over to Cheese on the ground and lowly uttered,


“We cool now, nigga?”


Alex smoothly walked back over to the car, calmly entered the car, put the paper bag of crumbled, dirty, and faded dollars into the back seat. He started to drive and he then looked over at me and said,


“Ya cool, little man?”  I franticly nodded my head and quickly replied,


“Yeah, yeah.”


He gazed at me out of the corner of his eye and replied back to my frantic movement,


“Ya know that was just business. He owed me money for weeks. Sometimes you have to keep ya enemies close. Hm, sometimes ya enemies are ya friend. Ya kno’ what I mean? No need to be scared, little man. Ya my nigga. C’mon let’s go have some fun.”


Then he took me to some big ass house inMountAiry. I don’t know how he exactly knew those people but for sure, everyone knew him. We entered the house and there were half naked women every where, people smoking, drinking, and other things; drugs and madness. He yelled out at whoever was doing drugs, drinking, or sexing; it all stopped in my presence. We played some video games and talked shit to one another. When my brother stepped out the room, women were coming up to me telling me how cute I was and guys were telling me how much my brother talked about me. One guy told me my brother once called me “The ticket out of the hood. The Savior” My brother has a lot on me and in the guy’s words exactly, “Don’t fuck it up, young baw.” It was getting late so we headed home to a big surprise of our mother home early. Maaaaaan, she was furious at Alex. She made me go to my room as she yelled at Alex about taking me around the things he’s into. Mind you, I can hear every thing they’re saying, mainly my mother doing the yelling. She yelled at Alex that she didn’t want him to fuck me up or corrupt me with his ways. They argued for almost an hour until shit got really real. My mom blurted out in rage at Alex, “You’re as fucked up as your father!”


Alex snapped, I have never heard him yell in my entire life until that day. Chills raced up my spine from the anger in his voice. Alex yelled,  “Are you fuckin’ serious?! You didn’t have any problem when it’s helpin you out! It helps you to keep the lights on! It helps you to keep food in the fridge. What I do helps you to keep C.J. in that nice ass school. You dare to take my money when you know what the fuck I do but you also want to turn a blind eye. BULLSHIT!”


My mom yelled back, “BOY, don’t talk to me like that in MY house! My name is on the bills, YOU live under my fuckin’ roof! You’re still a child! I can give you as quick as I can take from you! Watch your mouth, boy!”


Alex replies, “You’re such a hypocrite, it’s okay to sacrifice your eldest son to the wolves but your baby is too precious to chum up with Black kids in his own neighborhood. What do you want to do, give up on me or help me? Do you even know? Where I am standing at you’re no better than daddy, another deadbeat parent.”


I think at that moment my mother slapped Alex across his face and then I heard a lot of thumping. I ran to the top of the steps and my mother was beating on Alex with her fist, a bat, plates, and whatever else she could get her hands on as tears raced down her face. She yelled over and over like a broken record, “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”


I ran to the bottom of the stairs and yelled, “Mom, Alex, stop! Please!”


My mom turned back to me and yelled, “Go back to your room, C.J.!”


At that moment I broke down in tears and Alex looked over at me and yelled with a deep roar, “Oooooooooookay! I will leave but remember, you done this to me, mommy! Just let me get my things, please.”


She yelled back, “YES! Please get your shit, your drugs, and damn drug money out of my god damn house!”


Alex walked pass me going upstairs, he returned a few minutes later with seven duffle bags. He kneeled down to me as I sat at the bottom of the steps. He looked me in my eyes and said,  “Nothing is gonna change, I will still help you with your homework. Come check in on you; make sure you go to bed on time, and talk to you each and everyday. Nothing will ever change between me and you. Ya my little man, I love you to my last breath. Ya hear me?”


I quickly nodded my head yes as tears raced down my face. I grabbed him tightly around his neck and whispered into his ear,  “I love you too, Alex. Please don’t go.”


He stood high and tall over me, he smirked, placed his hand on my shoulder, and uttered,


“It’s for the best, little man. You’ll be ‘ight, trust me. Don’t let anything change in school, continue to give them hell.”


He turned around, and as he walked toward the door he attempted to give mother a peck on the cheek, but she turned her face away in disgust. Alex smirked and said, “I love you too, mommy.”


My mother and I stood in the doorway and watched Alex load his bags in his car. Before he got in he looked up at us with a smile and waved. I waved back to him; my mother folded her arms across her chest in anger. Alex started the engine and rode off. I never asked Alex where he stayed that night.  That night our lives changed, especially Alex’s. From that day forward he was a bit more grim, bitter, and melancholy.  That’s all I have to say about my brother at this moment…”



About Mr. Blair

Eric Blair was born in August of 1984 in Philadelphia, PA, and raised in the North Philly section of the city. He has always enjoyed stories, schemes, and the complexities of plots. At a young age he discovered that he could create narratives full of adventures, creativity, and intrigue. It was this realization that caused him to fall in love with the art of storytelling. At age of twenty-one Eric began writing comic books. His first professional book “Hip-Hop Chronicles” was written for Space Dawg Entertainment in 2004. Eric’s writing style ranges from descriptive to expository writing, where the writing serves to explain and inform the audience. He uses thoroughly developed characters, clever situations, and witty conversation style and tone to keep readers engaged. Eric is inspired by authors who can evoke an emotional response from the reader, as well as authors who can blend elements of fact with fiction to construct a great piece. Eric is currently working on a series of comic books that are soon to be published, his recent writings have been guest featured on several online blogs. He works on perfecting his craft by consistently updating his work, editing pieces, reviewing the latest relevant material, and surrounding his self with like minded, creative, intelligent people.

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