The 'N' Word, Book 1 (39 page)

“Aaron… your bitches said you wanted to see me.” The man smirked as he ran his large hand over his protruding gut then paused, delicately picking at the fabric of his clothing as if plucking a piece of lint off his distinguished self.

Aaron quickly checked his surroundings once more, counting his balances and always preparing for the worst-case scenario. His boy Tony stood to his far right, his main man Fred to his left, and they’d formed the perfect triangle with a scattering of a select few lingering in the back, ready to crack heads and put broken bones to bed at a moment’s notice.

“Yeah, Kent, I do,” Aaron finally addressed the bastard. “Look, it’s real interesting that you called my guys bitches.” He pointed over his shoulder but kept his eye on the man. “Seems to me you’ve turned into a pussy your goddamn self.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” The man sneered, rising to his feet from his seated position atop a wobbly table barely fit to support his weight.

“You and some of your family here,” Aaron paused and scratched a sudden, annoying itch along his earlobe, “have turned a young, naïve fool into your boy toy…”

“Boy toy?” The man’s face morphed into confusion as he crossed his beefy arms.

“Rodger Prather… ring a bell? Ring some balls in your mouth, maybe?” He smirked, showing a few teeth, hoping they glistened as he cocked his head to the side and waited.

“What about him?” The man laughed casually. “You want in? You want a piece of the pie?” This caused a soft burst of laughter from the men surrounding him in a protective stance.

Fuckin’ idiots…

“Nah,” Aaron grimaced and shook his head as he looked towards the window, pierced with broken rays of light, then back at the man. “Not the least bit interested in screwin’ someone that got the same shit I got… I’ll leave that up to you and your twisted crew.” He winced a bit as if in pain, then flashed his irreverent grin again. “There’s only a small group of you motherfuckers here, your clan. You’re warped. Most of you fuckers are in Oregon, Canada, places like that. You got messed up thoughts and ideologies; no one understands you fuckers half the time, and you try to cling onto White Nationalists, sayin’ we’re one and the same.”

“We have a lot in common. If we joined up, we’d be unstoppable. Stop this divide and conquer shit, Aaron.”

“It ain’t divide and conquer; it’s real men versus boys, and
real
men don’t force-fuck boys in the ass, Kent… No rape. That’s rule number one. You’re no man though, so you wouldn’t understand that. Nah, you ain’t no man. You’re an ugly ass queen, a chronic rapist, a foul piece of dog shit!”

Two men burst from his side as if they’d been released from some zoo cage, ready to tear him from limb to limb from the look in their eyes.

“Wait!” Kent screamed as they both caught sight of another guard entering the arena from a short distance. The man was locked and loaded, but Aaron paid the guard no mind. He knew what to do and how to do it, and apparently so did Kent, ensuring neither one of them bit off more than either could chew. “Don’t attack.”

“Don’t attack, huh? Like dogs…fuckin’ puppies…” He chuckled. “These two motherfuckers couldn’t beat me if I stood here with my hands tied behind my damn back and a paper sack over my head.” He looked at one of the men and then the other, and shook his head as if a deep sorrow suddenly consumed him, ate him up whole. “You bastards spend most of your damn time bombing abortion clinics, committin’ bank robberies, shit like that, while men such as myself and the guys standing proudly behind me do all the grunt work, the
hard
work, and all you do is the greasy shit that doesn’t change a goddamn thing!”

“You want to argue politics, Aaron? I doubt it. Why are you
really
here? What’s this about?”

“You
know
what this is about…”

“Alright, well, say it! Get to it! Quit insultin’ my beliefs, too!” The man pointed to his chest. “That’s not why you’re here, so leave it outta your mouth.”

“You’re right, Kent. That’s not why I’m here.” Aaron smirked, enjoying toying with the man.

“And if you’ve read your damn Bible,
Aaron
, you’d know why we do what we do and
believe
what we believe! You’d join us, see eye to eye!”

“Oh, silly, silly, dumb ass Kent…” Shaking his head sadly, Aaron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and crossed his arms, pinning his hands tightly under his armpits. “I know my Bible, boy. I know about your group and your people. I probably know more about it than
you
do.”

“Humor me…ain’t like I have any place to go.”

“Sure, why not?” Aaron grinned as he threw up his hands. “The Phineas Priesthood is named for the Israelite Phinehas, grandson of Aaron. How ironic… That’s from the book of Numbers, the 25
^th
chapter and 7
^th
verse. I know my Bible, Kent. I know it upside down, inside out, up and down and all around, sweet lips.”

A few of Aaron’s friends chuckled.

“Doesn’t that
same
Bible you like to quote from talk about havin’ sex with men, hmmm?” Aaron brandished a smile and looked at the man head on through narrowed, steely eyes. “I believe it does… Leviticus, 18:22, and I quote, ‘
You shall not lie with a male as with a woman, it is an abomination
’…end quote… I guess you think those rules don’t apply anymore ’cause you’re here in Holman, and you’ve got a pretty long ass sentence. Desperate times, desperate measures… Well let me tell you somethin’, Kent Jerkoff McGrew, I don’t give uh finely shredded shit who else you jam up the ass, make into your woman, and even have a prison faggot weddin’ with, but it
won’t
be Rodger Prather, motherfucker. You and your homo friends are
done
fuckin’ him and fuckin’
with
him, you understand me? It’s over!”

Kent burst out laughing, and then a bit louder as he took a couple steps towards Aaron – the kind of steps that caused big ass shadows to grow, loom and threaten. Aaron’s men advanced too, finally forcing the man to halt in his tracks, a slight look of trepidation taking over the fellow’s expression as his eyes danced from man to man to man.

“Rodger!” Aaron yelled out and snapped his fingers high in the air, causing the place to echo with the sound of his voice like an old church bell chiming. A few moments later, the young man broke out from the small crowd, looking afraid, despondent, and damn near as if he were going to faint on the Johnny apple spot, turn into a human pile of bloody stew and allow the wolves to feast. “Stand up like a goddamn man! What the hell is wrong with you, huh?!” Aaron briskly grabbed the slither of skin wrapped around thin bones of the tormented soul who had no damn spirit left. He made him stand closer to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Let me tell you somethin’!” he screamed in Rodger’s ear, ensuring everyone heard what was uttered as he eyeballed the guy down. “As God is my witness, you are
NOW
officially a white nationalist under my leadership, do you understand?”

Rodger nodded his head emphatically in agreement, his eyes skipping about as if he’d had too much damn caffeine. They glossed over, coated with troubled tears – the kind of tears tied to his kidneys by an invisible string, the kind that made a man cry and urinate on himself at the same damn time, sob in sheer terror until the stinkin’, cowardly yellow piss and lily-livered cries mixed together right under his damn feet. The fucker could pretend to be singin’ in the goddamn canary yellow rain!

“If
any
of you motherfuckers touch a hair on his head again, you’re dead!” Aaron pointed to the crowd as his veins throbbed in his damn neck. He imagined he looked like one of those damn lizards with the bulging throats that throbbed in and out like a waving flag. His pulse raced within him, his flesh itchy as he became antsier for a fight. He missed fighting, loved wrapping his paws around a bastard and fucking him up, blow-by-blow, so well one would swear he could play the tuba. He stomped the damn floor with his heavy boot, slightly stinging the balls of his feet.

“You are not law, Aaron!” a wayward voice called out, whiny and broken. Whoever the owner was of the words uttered was a weakling, for they did not step forward and claim the lyrics to the pusillanimous song they’d recited.

“You know what?” He cracked a jagged grin. “Whoever said that – in your wildest dreams, man! Nothin’ but a buncha punk, pussy ass bastards,” he stated coolly as he reached into his pocket, removed a cigarette, and shoved it in the corner of his dry mouth. The thing dangled there, like a dime on the edge of a sidewalk waiting to be kicked. The sensation kept him calm, the feel of the tightly rolled papers against his lips… giving him a moment to think, to sort of his damn thoughts, to resist marching closer to Kent and ripping his big, empty head from his shoulders with his bare hands.

“You motherfuckers get no respect from me. You never have, you never will.”

He snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, clutched it between his fingers, and calmed down enough to let the matter go. He turned to walk away but before he could swing back in the direction of the crowd, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A weighty object flew in the air like a lopsided, awkwardly shaped bird with no wings to flap. He heard a load groan and several curses as one of the guys buckled a bit and ran his fingers along his scalp. A trail of bright red blood trailed from his bald head as a chair lay on its side beside him, slightly rocking until it settled motionless.

“You hit me in the head!” Kent looked at his fingertips, seemingly amazed by the shiny blood that glazed them. “You son of a bitch!”

At that, bodies of all shapes and sizes dressed in white jumpsuits began to leap upon one another like frogs in a torrential storm. Hearty profanity and manly screams echoed throughout the place, the shit horror movie theme tracks were made of… The guards yelled out during the mayhem into their radios, while Aaron calmly walked across the damn floor towards his cell, dragging Rodger with him by his fucking ear, and leaving the pandemonium and violence-infused havoc behind. He had no one escorting him, no one leading the way for his retreat. He knew a guard would be waiting for him by his cell. If he fucked up and swung on someone, he’d be thrown in the hole. If he didn’t get into any altercations, he could go back to his cell. That was the agreement after all. He was prepared for either outcome…

As he distanced himself further from crowd, he turned towards Rodger, pulled him close and got his lips right up to his ear so that the young man wouldn’t miss not one damn syllable spoken.

“Look, little boy, you better grow the fuck up,
right
here,
right
now. You better grow some damn balls, speak up for yourself! I ain’t gonna always be around to protect you. Playtime is over. You are one of us now; that’s it, that’s final!”

Rodger nodded and swiped another tear away as he gripped Aaron’s shoulder with long, spindly fingers. In that touch, he felt the young man’s gratitude, and his fear, too.

“You’re safe for now, but this ain’t all roses. The bad news is that you now have a new set of enemies. The good news is, the attacks are over and you have a new set of friends. Tomorrow, you’ll be relocated. I got word that you’re being moved to another cell, it’s been approved… and this incident today was to ensure it happens. Sometimes they like to go back on their word in here, make promises and then break ’em. The warden will find out what happened and make sure you are in protective custody for a little while. It’s for your own good. You’ve got a ten-year sentence, right?”

The young man sniffled then nodded.

“You have a record of a bunch of petty crimes, but this is your first big offense. They might cut you some slack. If you keep your nose clean, that could be reduced to seven, maybe even six… Bottom line, don’t you
ever
let these motherfuckers punk you, make you into a bitch!” He pointed towards the crowd now being subdued by a host of armed guards. “This is your second chance! Do you understand me? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME you chicken shit motherfucker?!”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” The fellow stared down at the ground.

“Look me in the eye when I talk to you!”

Rodger lifted his weak chin, and did as he was instructed.

“Don’t trust
anyone
in here, notta one of ’em, and you should barely trust even
me
. Whatever they tell you, it’s usually the opposite and my best advice to you, son, is to stay away from people that get into a whole heap of penitentiary trouble and keep shit goin’, and that makes up for 99% of the population in here! Fred will set you up, get you trained and indoctrinated.” Aaron paused to take a breath. A sudden rush of emotions seized him, made his gut roil as a pang of guilt ravished his mind. His stomach tightened, hurt, and flipped as if he’d eaten three-day-old raw chicken parts that had decayed out in the blazing sun.

But it’s the only way to keep him safe in this hellhole. He’s got to be in the group; he can’t just be out here on his own… They’ll kill him, kill him dead.

He swallowed his concerns and continued.

“I’ll follow up with you later. Keep your nose clean, kid… mind your business.” He pointed in the guy’s face, a stern look in his eyes. “And be aware at
all
times. Your life could depend upon it.”

And then he turned his back on the young man and walked away…