Animal 2 (2 page)

Priest squatted down beside Animal, who was rolling around on the ground, clutching his shoulder. “I ain't some punk-ass gun boy who shits his pants every time he sees them shiny grilles of yours, Tayshawn. I've been doing this since before I shot you outta my nut sack. You're good, son, but I'm still better.” Priest grabbed Animal by the back of his shirt and helped him to the cot.

“Fuck off me.” Animal jerked away from him. His arm was throbbing, and he couldn't feel his fingers.

“You got a lot of fire in you, boy, and that's a good thing. You're gonna need it for this shit you plan on pursuing,” Priest said.

“And what do you know about my plans, old head?” Animal asked.

“I know that you got a fire burning in your belly that's eating you up a chunk at a time. A wise man would've taken the pass and high-tailed it to greener pastures, but the men in our family aren't known for their smarts, we're known for our need to hurt people. You might look like your mother, but it's my demons that live in your heart.”

Animal chuckled. “Listen to you, trying to sound all fatherly and shit, like you give a fuck about what's in my heart. Let's be clear, I lay no claim to you or anybody else from your side of the gene pool. I ain't yo son, the gutter spit me out. I was birthed by a drug whore and raised by the streets. Where the fuck do you come in?”

“There's that rage again,” Priest said.

Animal stood and got nose-to-nose with Priest, but the older man didn't even flinch. “You have no idea what rage is until you've been violated to the point where you feel subhuman.”

“The good Lord places obstacles in front of us as tests of our faith. From the most faithful to even the wretched, we are all tested. To reach the kingdom of heaven, we must first brave the fires of hell,” Priest said.

“So says your fake biblical ass,” Animal said, mocking him. “You know, I actually think this is kinda funny, the priest who fathered the omen. My birth was a sure sign of things that would come to pass. For as much grief as I've brought
into the world, I can't even say that I blame you for cutting out on me.”

Priest sighed. “If only you understood the whole story.”

“The way I see it, there ain't much to understand. You were just another bitch-ass nigga who was afraid to take care of his responsibilities,” Animal said venomously.

Priest felt his hand twitch, but he fought back the urge to knock Animal's head off his shoulders. “Tayshawn, you can either keep acting like a spoiled-ass kid with a chip on his shoulders or get your head back in the game and act like you want to live through this. I'm trying to help you.”

“I don't want your help!” Animal spit.

“What you want and what you need are two different things, Tayshawn, but all roads lead to your ultimate goal: Shai Clark. If you move wrong this time, I doubt if there'll be another resurrection. Kahllah.” He turned to her.

“Yes, Father?”

“Take them upstairs to the place we've prepared for them. Tend to Animal's injury, let him shower, and give him the fresh clothes I left. I need him ready to travel by the time I come back from my meeting,” Priest told her. After issuing some last-minute instructions, he pulled Gucci to the side. “For all that you've gone through with and for him, I take it you love my son?”

“I don't think whether I love your son or not is the question. I've been in his life longer than you have,” Gucci said with a hint of attitude. Flashes of the older her were coming back.

Priest's bowed lips cracked into a half grin. “A bit of fire in the soul is a good thing, but don't let that fire get so big that it burns you. My ties are to Tayshawn, not you. As far as I'm concerned, your life serves as nothing more than a distraction to
the grand scheme. The only reason there are two empty graves in that scrap yard instead of one is that I know my son cares about you, and your passing would no doubt leave him irreparably broken. You don't have to like me, but you will respect me. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Gucci said, but she'd taken some of the bass out of her voice.

“When I return, my son and I are going for a little ride so we can have a long-overdue talk. Kahllah will tend to your needs in our absence,” Priest told her.

“Where are you taking him?” Gucci asked.

“That isn't your concern. What you should be focused on is helping me persuade him to do the right thing so that you may both walk away from this with your lives.”

“I can try, but Animal has his own mind. Once it's set, it's hard to change,” Gucci said honestly.

“You'll do more than try, for your own sake. There are a great many things in motion which neither you nor Tayshawn totally understand. Things that have been years in the making, and we will not see them ruined because my son couldn't control his emotions. I am tolerant, but Kahllah is not, and there's no doubt in my mind that she won't hesitate to hurt you to control him,” Priest warned, and left the church for his meeting.

T
HE MEETING WAS SET TO
take place at a truck stop off the New Jersey Turnpike, just over the George Washington Bridge. It was early in the afternoon, so the parking lot was busy with cars coming and going. The tall black man in the priest's robes drew more than a few stares as he crossed the lot, headed to the diner. A trooper, who was coming out of the diner, stopped to hold the door for the holy man.

“Bless you, my son.” Priest gave him a phony smile and stepped into the diner. The man he had come to see wasn't hard to find. His was the only booth flanked by minions who looked every bit of the hired guns they were, dressed in off-the-rack suits and wearing sunglasses indoors. The man they were protecting sat at the rear of the booth, facing the door. He was dressed in a white collared shirt, with a salmon-colored blazer and blue jeans. He was joined by two other people. A woman, who had her back to him, and a young light-skinned man with dusty brown hair. When the man in the salmon blazer spotted Priest, he motioned for him to come over.

“Thanks for coming.” Shai Clark stood and greeted Priest with a handshake and a smile. He was a handsome man, with a baby face and joyful eyes. Shai looked more like a college kid than a ruthless crime boss who controlled the New York City underworld.

“You call, and I come, that's the way it works, right?” Priest said with a smirk. “I thought this was a private meeting.” He glanced from the young man to the woman at the table. She was older than Priest but had the body of a woman half her age. Her skin was smooth and dark, in contrast to her silver hair, which she wore up in an elegant bun. The green skirt suit she wore fit her body perfectly, no doubt tailored to fit. Around her neck, she wore a string of white pearls. When her dark eyes glanced up at Priest, her red-painted lips parted into a smile that said she had a secret that she couldn't wait to tell. For all intents and purposes, she was the picture of someone's loving grandmother, but those who knew her knew better.

“No worries. This is a friend of ours. I'd like to introduce you to—”

“Who in the underworld doesn't know Machine Gun Ma Savage?” Priest cut him off.

Ma smiled, showing off two perfect rows of white teeth, one capped by a gold crown. “Machine Gun Ma is only for niggers I plan on killing or nosy reporters. It's just Ma to my friends. Are we friends these days, or do you still wanna lock ass over that lil' misunderstanding we had back in 1982, Tay?”

Priest stiffened at her use of a name he had buried when he first donned the black robe. “I prefer Priest, and yes, I'd say we're friends these days, Ma. The past is the past.”

“That's good to know, because you never can tell with members
of y'all's clan. I swear I could never figure out how a bunch of muthafuckas as pretty as you all are could be so deadly. I'm still holding on to the hope that one of my boys gets accepted into your little club.” Ma gave him a wink.

Shai was surprised. “You two know each other.” He looked from Priest to Ma Savage.

Ma cackled. “Of course we do. Me and old Priest got history, don't we?”

“Indeed we do,” Priest said in a less-than-pleasant tone.

“Ma, is this the old nigga you always going on about?” The light-skinned young man spoke up. “Shit, he don't look like much to me.”

Ma Savage slapped him upside the head with her purse. “You mind your damn manners, Bug Savage. Excuse my youngest boy. Sometimes he lets his ass speak for his mouth. How you been, Priest?”

“I've been better, but I'm alive, so I can't complain,” Priest said with a shrug. “How're the kids?”

“Still ornery as ever. Big John is finishing up a dime in a fed joint somewhere in Illinois, so Dickey and Maxine have been handling the business. I got no idea where Mad Dog is these days. He comes and goes as he sees fit, and most of the time, he's got the law a few steps behind him.”

“Same old Mad Dog.” Priest shook his head. Even as a kid, Mad Dog had been the wildest of the Savage boys. He had no understanding of right or wrong. He was like an animal and moved off instincts rather than rational thought. “And Killer?” he asked of the forth-oldest Savage boy.

“Killer goes by Keith these days,” Ma told him. “My delusional son has abandoned his evil ways and is working for the
other side now. He just graduated law school. Can you imagine a Savage working on the wrong side of the damn law? His daddy is probably turning over in his grave right now over that blasphemous shit!” She spit on the floor, drawing some less-than-pleasant stares from the people eating at the next table. “I don't bother with him, but he speaks to Maxine and Dickey pretty regularly. Outside of that, he keeps his distance, and that's fine by me. Whether I pushed 'em out my pussy or not, I got no care or no time for ungrateful kids. You know how many muthafuckas I done shot to keep food in his prissy-ass mouth, and this is how he repays me, by leaving his poor old mom and siblings to fend for themselves while he's out trying to save a world that don't wanna be saved? He prances around rubbing shoulders with his new white friends, like his last name ain't Savage same as the rest of us. Let's see how friendly them crackers would be if they knew his education was paid for with blood money.” She cackled. “A walking contradiction, that Killer is.”

Priest nodded in understanding. “He always was a bit different from the rest.” He reflected on the man formerly known as Killer. Keith had always been the quiet one, who kept his head buried in books. He was docile in contrast to his brothers, but when provoked, he was one of the most dangerous of the Savage boys.

Ma placed her hand on the light-skinned young man's shoulder. “And of course, you met my youngest, Fire Bug. We call him Bug for short.”

Priest studied the young man. He didn't look to be much older than sixteen or seventeen. “Don't tell me you're thinking about getting into the family business, too?”

“I'm the future of the family business,” Bug said proudly.

Ma hit him in the head with the purse again. “You ain't the future of shit just yet, Bug Savage. My word is still law in the Savage household. Now, why don't you take your pyromaniac ass outside and try not to set anything on fire while we're in here finishing up our business?”

“But Ma—” Bug began, but Ma's glare cut his words off. “A'ight.” He got up from the booth. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Clark. And we'll make sure that business gets handled for you.” He shook Shai's hand. On his way out, he looked up at Priest. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he wisely kept his mouth closed and kept walking.

“You'll have to excuse him,” Ma began once Bug had gone. “He's the baby, so I keep him close to me, but unfortunately, he's picked up some bad habits, same as the rest of my boys. Bug's smart like Keith and got more heart than Mad Dog did at his age. I can't count how many times I tried to turn Bug off to this lifestyle, but he's got that Savage blood in him. If he insists on playing the game, all I can do is show him how to win.”

“Sometimes all we can do is make sure they're the best at what they do, even if it isn't right,” Priest agreed.

“Right on.” Ma nodded. “How's that pretty boy of yours?”

Priest felt his heart skip but didn't miss a beat when he answered. “Dead. He was killed a while back.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Ma said sincerely. “You know, I always hoped that he and Maxine would hook up one day. That marriage there would make our families mighty damn powerful out here.”

“I never knew you had a kid, Priest,” Shai interrupted.

“That's because you were probably too young to remember.
You boys spent some time together while your fathers were talking business,” Priest said with a wink.

Shai thought back. Poppa had never allowed very many around his children, so Shai's play dates were few and far between. He vaguely remembered during one of Priest's late night visits to the Clark estate there having been a kid with him. The reason it stuck out was one of the very few times that Poppa had allowed him to stay up late, eating candy and watching movies. Shai didn't remember much about the kid other than the fact that he had very sad eyes. Poppa had taught him from an early age how to read people's eyes to get a sense of who they were, and it was obvious, even to young Shai that the little boy with Priest had been through some terrible things. With a father like Priest, it was no wonder. Shai had shared his toys with the boy and it seemed to cheer him up, but the sadness in his eyes remained. Shai wanted to ask Priest how the boy had died, but the question would've been disrespectful, especially in front of outsiders, so he didn't press it further.

“Let me get going, before Bug gets restless and tries to set something on fire. It was good seeing you.” Ma gave Priest a hug. “Shai”—she turned to him—“don't you worry none about that piece of business, either. My Fire Bug is disrespectful and a little anxious, but he's good at what he does.”