Red White and Black

Chapter Twenty Eight

Jay C

Jay C hefted the baseball bat in his hand and smiled as he smacked the solid hickory against his palm. It felt good. Yessir, nothing like a good chunk of hickory to help you work out your frustrations. Especially when you get to work out those frustrations by cracking the skull of whitey.

Still--it worried him. Murder. Because that's what it was. There was no turning back from that one. He could dress it up in any sort of clothes he wanted but it was still murder. He began to realize there was a difference between beating the living daylights out of a man and actually ending his life. A big difference.

Yet here he was. This was his party and he was the one who had set the table and invited all the guests. With Derrick waiting for him to call the shots, he didn't dare get cold feet now. He would never, ever manage to retain any sort of credibility if he backed down now. And you could bet Derrick would never let it rest that his chance had been served up on a silver platter and he had blown it.

No, he had to do it. There was no backing down.

"Alright. What's next my man?" asked Derrick.

Jay C looked at the bat in his hand. It didn't feel quite as comfortable now and he dropped it to the floor.

"Jay C, man--you cool?"

Jay C nodded. "Yeah man. Let's do this." And just like that, the die was cast. He had chosen his path and there was no turning back.

Cracker was curled into a ball on the floor, unmoving and unresponsive. "Hey, whitey. Time to get up and get going." He nudged the man with his foot.

"Come on man, I ain't messin' with you. Get up now."

"Jay C, that man ain't movin'. I think you done killed him."

"Shut up fool. Can't you see he's still breathing?"

"No man, I think he's dead. He ain't movin' a muscle."

"Derrick! It ain't possible you be that stupid. Now quit thinkin' and use those eyes for once. The man got a bubble blowin' in and out his nose. You got a bubble blowin' in and out your nose, that mean you still breathin'. Get it?"

"Okay, okay. I get it. What crawled up your shorts and bit you?"

More nudging. "Alright, we're gonna have to carry him out there. You grab his feet."

It had never occurred to Jay C how difficult it would be to go through with this and it was proving to be even more difficult since Morris wasn't cooperating one bit. Together with Derrick they half carried, half dragged his inert body through the house and out the front door. Morris moaned and groaned but didn't seem to be conscious or responsive. Just as well, I don't think I could go through with this if he was looking me in the eye.

"Hold up a minute, man," said Jay C pausing on the front porch. "It wouldn't be too smart to drag this sack of white meat out and run right into the police, now would it?"

"That's why you the man, Jay C."

Jay C grit his teeth to keep from lashing out at Derrick. Everything the fool said and did was starting to grate on his nerves and he couldn't wait to get this whole ordeal over and done with so he could just get away from Derrick. Far away. But then he realized this was going to forever bind him to Derrick, and not in a good way. I miss Markus, he thought for the hundredth time. Instead, I'm chaining myself to this idiot.