TO LIVE A LIFE

By

MANICA S. BRYANT

 

This is a magnificent story about the ‘hood’ and everyday life in the tenement projects. The reader is taken on a literary roller coaster as the author parades a kaleidoscope of ethnic double-dealing, excitement and struggles not only to survive, but also to stay alive.  The author combines a clever writing style, an ear for dialog, and chronicles everyday situations to present a historically intriguing novel.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Manica S. Bryant began writing at age thirteen.  She finished this exceptional novel at nineteen.  Her style is unique and her message is clear.  Her new novels are ‘Someone Like You’ and ‘When Momma Cry, Angel Sings.’

 

e-BOOK

 

Maverick Publishing

HOUSTON, TEXAS

 

 

 

To Live A Life

 

 

By

 

MANICA S. BRYANT

 

 

 

e-Book 2005

 

www.mittymax.com

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2005


TO LIVE A LIFE

By

MANICA S. BRYANT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright 2005

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

e-Book

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maverick Publishing

HOUSTON, TEXAS

 

 

TO LIVE A LIFE

By

MANICA S. BRYANT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

 

I dedicate this book to…my friends and family; the ones whom helped teach me how To Live a Life. For without you, I would not have the knowledge and love it takes to know that friends and family are what makes up a healthy life.

MANICA S. BRYANT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

          My mother, Lenshaye No-Thotica Reid, was walking through the house.  It was on a Friday and she was headed to work.  She got her coat, car keys and walked out the door.  That was the time I normally got up, but not today. 

          Today when I got up, my mother was already gone.  DeJohn, my brother, were still asleep in his bed.  After I got dressed and fixed myself a bowl of cereal, I turned on the television to watch my favorite show, “Parent Hood”.  A few minutes later, DeJohn sat beside me.

          DeJohn is my seventeen year old brother who is very popular in the projects.  He has two best friends who are the same age as him, Jamal and Kenny Jones.   Jamal is the best looking one of them all.  He is light skinned with long curly hair.  He talks to all the girls with that gentleman talk that sways through the air with his deep voice on the side.   Jamal has his eyes on my best friend, Divine Bogins, who hangs around a girl name Tosha Jones.  Tosha is the sister of Kenny.  They both are popular in the projects.  Unlike anyone of us, Kenny is a drug dealer who has been wanted by the police all over the state.  Since our area is gang related, the police are scared to come in the neighborhood.  Therefore, as long as Kenny doesn't leave the projects, he would be all right. 

          All this stuff has been going on for four years.  Devonte, the leader of a gang called Cold Cash, pulled the group back together.  Six years ago his father, Dollar Bill, was the original leader.  Devonte was only thirteen when his father first formed the gang.  Only Dollar Bill's homeboys were in the gang.  He never let young boys or females in the gang.  He always said boys were weak, females belong in the kitchen and it was a man's job to rule a neighborhood.

          It all started when D-Low, the leader of another gang called Delinquents, came into our projects one day.  We were having a cook out at Dollar Bill's house.  (He sure knew how to grill some good ol' soul food on the grill. Momma said the secret to making it taste so good was in the kitchen where the females did the real work.  Because if it was a women's job, then only a woman could make it taste good.)   Everyone were outside laughing and talking, just having a great time when D-Low stepped up with his boys and said, "I'm looking for a punk by the name of Dollar Bill."

  Dollar Bill turned around from the grill as he asked, "Who wanna know?"

          D-Low approached Dollar Bill.  D-Low stood straight up in his face.  As he stared in Dollar Bill's eyes, he said, "I, D-Low, wanna know.  I came to warn you about sending your boys over to my projects disturbing our peace. Let that be a warning to you." 

          Knowing for a fact that he had closed the topic, D-Low turned away from Dollar Bill.  Unexpectedly, Dollar Bill mocked D-Low by saying, "I, Dollar Bill, get to go anywhere I choose."  D-Low laughed as if what Dollar Bill said was just a joke.  Dollar Bill, on the other hand, kept talking. "Can't no punk gang called Delinquents tell me where I can and can't go!"  D-Low just kept walking.  When he was gone, Dollar Bill turned to us and laughed.  "You see how easily I scared him off."

          Everyone knew that Dollar Bill didn't scare D-Low away.   D-Low left because he was a MAN.  D-Low came to the house, made what he wanted to say clear and to the point without repeating his self, and then when he was done, he left.  Dollar Bill thought he had D-Low scared.  He rounded up his boys as they went back to D-Low's projects to party.  That night, only two out of ten members came back home alive.  Dollar Bill was one of the lucky ones.  The projects haven't been the same since.

          I was only nine years old when it happened.  It was horrible to the ones who didn’t live in our neighborhood.  Soon, we all just learned to accept the fact that it was going to happen whether we wanted it to or not.  We all knew that it was Dollar Bill's fault.  Everyone knew it except for Devonte. 

Dollar Bill drilled in his son's head that D-Low started with them first.  Like men, Cold Cash had to handle it.  After a while, Cold Cash ended up burning Delinquents' property.  Soon after that, in return Delinquents killed Devonte’s mother while she was coming out of the grocery store.  Later on, Delinquents told the police to look out for Dollar Bill. An undercover cop came to his house and arrested Dollar Bill for possession of drugs.

          At the time, Devonte was too young to know what was really going on. He had a sister name JaQuell who was also nine years old.  They had no place to go; therefore, their aunt took them into her house.  It didn’t work out.  She kicked the two of them out because she couldn’t take the pressure Devonte placed on her. Everyday she would come home to groups of young boys claiming to be in a gang with Devonte. Two of the boys were Devonte’s best friends, Ice and J.R. Devonte wanted DeJohn to join the gang, but after seeing what Dollar Bill went through, DeJohn wasn't down for it. Devonte called the gang Cold Cash. 

          Momma took them into our home where Devonte stayed until he turned eighteen.  He moved out into an apartment.  During that time, he was furious from the thought of Delinquents murdering his whole family.  Determined to protect the neighborhood, he gathered up Cold Cash. After a year, Devonte became so wrapped up in the gang, until he turned his back on the neighborhood.  That's when Cold Cash went to bad.

          DeJohn walked in the kitchen with some blue jeans, a tank top on and a sporting wave cap.  He looked in the refrigerator. A few seconds later, he came in the living room.  “Jack, what happened to the Kool-Aid?”  He asked me. DeJohn acted like he would die if he didn’t have any Kool-Aid or bologna.

          “All gone.”  I said with my eyes glued to the television.

          “What ‘cha mean, ‘all gone’?”  He asked.

          Jamal drunk it all.”  I said.  “He drunk da las bit yesta’day.”  I finally looked at DeJohn.  He was staring at me as if he was very upset.  I continued, “I told him not to drink it, but he said you wouldn’t mind.”

          DeJohn went back in the kitchen.  After not seeing what he wanted, he came back.  “Jack, where’s da bread?”

          “All gone.”  I answered with a half smile because it was a little funny to me to know that everything that he wanted was gone.  “Why?”  I asked curiously.

          “I wanted to make a bologna san’wich.”

          “Oh,” I said sarcastically while also trying to hold back my laugh.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

          “Don’t tell me...it's gone?” He asked.   He tried to hold back the anger of knowing that he had nothing to eat.

          I nodded.

          DeJohn then hit his hand on the wall with anger as he walked in his room. When he came back, he had his car keys in his hand.  “You comin’?”  He asked signaling that he was going to the store. I turned off the TV as I left out the door behind him.

  At the store, we ran across a white friend of ours, Jamie.  I didn’t really like her because her color said one thing, but she tried to be the other.  Her parents are the same way.  They stay in the neighborhood, too. (Why couldn't everyone just be who he or she are and not try to fit in with the group that they live around?) Jamie picked up a box of Tylenol and then turned back around to us with her fist out. She then said, “Dap.”

          I looked at DeJohn and then down at her fist.  I slightly touched her fist with mine and then waited for DeJohn to do the same.  After me, DeJohn hit her hand.  Ooo, I’m so glad I seen ya’ll.”  She said.  “I’ve been trying to call ya’ll but someone kept hanging the phone up on me.  At first, I thought ya’ll was doing that on purpose, but then I was like-why would they do me like that, you know, because I’m ya’ll friend, right?”

          “Right.”  We both said.

          “Ya’ll wouldn’t do me like that-”

          “Nawl,” Cried DeJohn.  He tried not to laugh in her face.  “But I wonder who was doing such a bad and cruel thing to such a loyal and caring person like you... Jackie?”  DeJohn hit my arm with his elbow. Then, Jamie looked at me as if DeJohn was telling her that I did it.

          “You know it wasn’t me!”  I confessed to her while I gave DeJohn a dirty look.  “It was probably my momma.  She got tired of Levon dem calling the house with those prank calls.”  I lied.  It was I who was hanging up in her face.  It wasn’t that I didn’t like her; she was just aggravating to me.  I didn’t feel like talking to her.  She always wants me to teach her how to speak Ebonics as if I know a lot about Ebonics.  Anyway, I wasn’t alone.  DeJohn would hang up on her, too. 

          “Well, I’m glad I seen ya’ll today because I’m having a party and I want all ya’ll to be there.”  She said.  “It’s going to be the bomb.”

          DeJohn, like myself, added a confuse look on his face.  Trying not to let her notice that I wasn’t interested in her party, I looked down at the floor.  After feeling that someone was walking up the aisle, I looked over in the direction of the person.  It was Ricky, our neighbor.  He was also one of DeJohn’s many friends. Jamie had a huge crush on him.  He never could stand to be around her at times.  He always took advantage of her and she knew it, too.

          Jamie looked up in the direction that I was looking in and seen Ricky.  Her eyes lit up with joy.  Ooo goody, Ricky.”  She said with joy.  She was about to say something else but stopped when she seen the same confuse look on Ricky’s face that was on DeJohn’s and mine.

          Ooo goody!”  Ricky mocked her.  “Nawl, Baby!”  He said while shaking his head.  “It’s whuz up?” 

          “Oh!”  She said.  Whuz up, Ricky?”

          “Nuttin’ but you as normal.”  Ricky teased her as he laughed in her face.  “How many times do I have to tell you?  If you don’t know who’s calling you on your line then hang it up.”  He was using sign motions with his hands as he talked.

          Confused, Jamie looked at us.  DeJohn shrugged his shoulders signaling that he didn’t know what Ricky was talking about.  “Okay.”  Jamie said to Ricky in a form of giving up the thought in process.  “Well, I’m having this bomb party and I wanted ya’ll to come.”

          “At yo’ house?”  Asked Ricky.

          She nodded.

          “With yo’ crazy fine momma and crazy fine sista’?”  He continued.

          She nodded again.  “Yep. And me!”  She said. “So, is ya’ll coming?”

          My first thought when she asked us that were to think of some kind of a lie to tell that wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

          “Fo’ Sho’!”  Said Ricky without any hesitation.  “We’ll be de’re.”

          All eyes flew on Ricky.  I didn’t know what DeJohn was thinking, but my second thought was to kill Ricky first and then think of some kind of lie to tell her.     “Great!”  She said.  “Be there at seven o’clock tonight.”  She smiled and then walked away with the Tylenol box in her hand.

          DeJohn folded his arms as he stared at Ricky.  “How can you speak for me like that?  You know I don’t roll wit’ dat clique.  You know dis.”

          “I know you trippin’.”  Ricky said.  “All dem crazy fine hos gonna be de’re.”

          “And you know I ain’t trying to get what dem STD infected creatures got.”

          “Come on man, get tha picture?”  Ricky begged.

          “Get this picture.”  DeJohn said.  “Me, in my house, sitting on my couch in front of my TV watching the music awards wondering how glad I am that I ain’t at no lame party of hers missing the chance of seeing Ashanti and Nelly getting their awards.”

          “Just go if not just for one second.”  Ricky continued to beg.  Please!”

“Fine!”  Yelled DeJohn hopping Ricky would leave him along.  “I’ll go.”

 

 

 

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