BitchSlapSmitty
New Member
He fell down and broke his crown, haw!
Ok, i can't find the better draft, so this will have to suffice.
“Fast Breakâ€
Fiction by J.M. Hunter, for Engl.280. Creat.Writ.
11/02/02
Dane Michael Xavier bounced the ball on the hard-wood gym floor, once, twice, three times. He liked to get a rhythm going, to get a feel for the ball in his hands. Hearing the basketball hit the floor three times; Dane felt each bounce was a confirmation of confidence building within him. Four, five, six, the affirmation set, a rising crescendo for him to get to his goal. Only one thing in his way, Malcolme, his younger brother.
Malcolme moved in rhythm as well, keeping ready, waiting for Dane to advance. Dane bounced the ball again, seven, eight, nine, bounced the ball again, ten , eleven, twelve. The look of determination on Mal’s face softened, annoyance and thinning patience set in. It was this instant Dane was waiting for.
He charged, faking towards the left then moving to the right, Malcolme stayed with him- barely. Dane spun to the left again, leaving Malcolme, and stormed directly towards the basket. The sound of thunder rebounded off the gym wall, or was it coming from their feet hitting the floor, maybe the driving blood pumping in their veins? Dane was almost underneath the basket. Malcolme was on him instantly. He had caught up.
Dane vaulted off one foot. He extended his outside arm, holding the ball, while simultaneously pushing the other arm against Malcolme’s body, in an effort to build a defense against his younger brother’s aerial assault towards the ball. Dane released the ball from his fingers, off the tips, giving it that extra lift towards the basket, its’ home.
Mal reached for it, incoming denial so imminent. Dane leaned in, pushing his weight on his guarding arm against Malcolme. Both brothers were stretched out, bodies tangled in mid-air; Dane more thickly built than younger Malcolme, who was leaner and taller, but lighter.
Mal fell away, as the ball arced towards the basket. It went in softly, swishing in as if there never was a doubt. It knew where it belonged.
Malcolme’s feet hit the floor first, heavy with disappointment. Dane landed next, despite his heavier bulk. Not fat, but fit, he landed lightly. Then the ball joined the two brothers; bouncing once, twice, three times, before rolling and stopping against the wall, its mission accomplished, a point made. The point made. Malcolme felt betrayed. He ignored the ball and rested his hands on his hips; shaking his head disappointedly, he huffed.
“Damn, man, you always do that shit!†He said with a pouting _expression.
“What?†Dane shrugged, wiping sweat off his brow with the bottom of his shirt. He walked over to the wall and picked up the ball. It stayed silent now. Malcolme held out his hand gesturing to the recently vacated court where the two brothers just battled for supremacy, the ten-point championship.
“That shit, brotha! What the hell was that?â€
“What? You mean a lay-up?†Dane replied, tilting his head to the side, raising a perplexed eye-brow toward Malcolme. Malcolme let out another huff of air, sounding like a bicycle tire hissing flat.
“Shiiit, more like charging fool!†He shook his head for emphasis.
“Whatever gets the job done, and to answer your question: That wuz yo ass, game point sucka.†Dane smiled, walking past, but not before throwing the ball towards Malcolme’s mid-section, getting a grunt and a slight flinch in response.
“Yeah, well I wanna rematch, sucka!†He stuttered with his hand up. Dane turned slightly. He regarded his little brother standing defiantly straight up. He was his full height now of six-three held the ball out with one hand. A similar challenge, like the one that got his ass handed to him just a little while ago. Dane looked into his brother’s brown eyes; this little cupcakea, trying to look hard. Dane wondered how long he could keep that look. Had he learned it while Dane was away serving in the Marines? Did Mal look like that when others tried to front on him? The gangs? Dane couldn’t stand them. He’d watched them go in and out of the pen, and seen some of them disappear forever. He didn’t like being treated or looked at like he was one of them too. He served some time in the brig himself when he was in the Corps. There was an unfortunate incident involving his commanding officer’s arm when he tried to beat Dane during a training session like he was his kid. It got Dane kicked out of the Marines and shipped back home. Which is where he’d rather be now anyways.
He looked at Malcolme studying that hard look so intently and wondered how much he may have missed of his brother and sister, Tanya growing up. If he could help it, he’d never be away from his family again. It was something that worried him on occasion. Some serious shit, this game of life was. Suddenly as if on cue Malcolme’s face cracked into a wide smile, lightening the mood . They both started laughing. Malcolme threw the ball at Dane, hitting him on the lower part of his thickly muscled leg.
“Let’s go. Momma’s waitin.†Dane said, picking up the ball again.
Malcolme locked up the Boys and Girls Club. Dane looked on
“You really like workin here. Don’t you? You like what you do.†Dane asked then handed Malcolme his bag, adjusting his own on his shoulder. Malcolme then dropped the key into his pocket. He looked at Dane.
“Yeah, it’s cool you know. I get to show a lot of what I know to these kids. Some of them, don’t have much, they don’t have an older brother, or at least one that actually gives a damn!â€
Dane figured that this wasn’t the first time Malcolme had been asked this question, or at least thought about it before.
“So what you sayin, I actually give a damn!†Dane glowered. Malcolme smiled in response, knowing his brother was messing with him. Dane didn’t joke much, or smile a lot. He was like a stone, but he was a good man, a family man.
“Jus sayin, that there’s more to life than dealin crack, or gang bangin, or workin the drive thru is all. Even this basketball game is fleeting. You could be the bomb ass cupcakea, and try to play for the pros, but if you get hurt, that’s it! Your out, you know? Game of life, dog.†Malcolme sighed, somber now. Dane nodded once, in silent agreement, then broke the silence.
“Of course lil brother, we all know you ain’t N.B.A. material, kinda weak game you got!†He snorted.
Mal flipped him the finger in response, smiling. His brother was all right. He was young and smart, wanting to make something of himself. Dane, the oldest of three children belonging to a single, hard working mother, felt it was his responsibility to take care of his two younger siblings. He had to help his momma out, with Mal and their younger sister Tanya, who was seventeen, and about to graduate high school. He’d do anything for his family and always protected them whenever they needed it.
A humming noise of exhaust, metal breaking, and churning broke him of his stirrings. Malcolme reacted first, looking at Dane, wide-eyed, with an “oh shit†look on his face. Dane’s face matched his, replacing his usual complacent, grim visage. Malcolme broke into a run.
“Damn, the bus!†His tall legs carried him towards the corner bus stop. Dane ran after him, he was a lot shorter and heavier than Malcolme, so he had to break into a sprint to catch up. He had almost caught up to the younger man when the large white and green transit bus zoomed by. They both turned the corner; Malcolme waived a hand in the air, yelling out frantically.
“Hey, wait up! Stop!†He stopped running. His hand still in the air he angrily dismissed the disappearing bus with a wave, “Maaan, that’s some cold shit!†He stomped at the pavement as Dane approached, slowed down, and caught his breath. Tight lipped, he didn’t say anything, not particularly surprised at this turn of events. Mal on the other hand wasn’t ready to let it go.
“Man what the hell! I know he saw my ass!†He put his hands on his waist and shook his head again, like he always did when something wasn’t going right.
“Malâ€, Dane finally said. Malcolme looked at Dane waiting for his brother to speak in that quiet baritone of his. “We ain’t in our neighborhood. This the city man, they ain’t gonna stop for two blacks all hollering, running down the street.â€
“What you mean two blacks all hollering?†He jokingly glared down at Dane; “You was eatin my dust, trying to catch up!†Dane chuckled at this, and shook his head. He started to think about what to do next, but Malcolme was just getting started.
“Dude, that’s still fucked up though! He coulda stopped, yeah he could stopped.†He held up his hands in mock surrender, “What the hell we gonna rob a bus for, huh? For some mother-fucking change?†He snorted, then continued. Dane let him. Malcolme hunched over holding his hands in front of him shaking them, langly fingers and all.
“Exeeeecuuuuse me, Mistah bus drivah, suh!†In his best Po black man’s voice. “Wit this here hand fo’ of change, I jus robbed from ya’sâ€, He finished in his best Bryant Gumble impersonation. “I can save a buck or two!†Dane let out a laugh at this point, barely able to hold it in, Malcolme joined in too.
‘It’s still jacked up man! That was the last bus!â€
“I know, I know.†Dane said calming down. The two brothers looked at each other, laughter abated now. Dane knew already what was on Malcolme’s mind. Still the nineteen year old said it.
“It takes almost two hours to go all the way around. Momma will get worried.â€
“Straight.†Dane agreed.
“We could call her to let her know. Should we?â€
Dane shook his head no. “She’ll worry even more, want to pick us up. No. I don’t want her driving out this late.â€
“So we gonna do it then?†Malcolme asked, taking a deep breath, zipping up his jacket as he suddenly got colder. Dane stood up, rolled his wide shoulders back. He looked off in the distance, his voice just as far.
“If we do, we go thru quick, no stopping and we’ll stay by the empty buildings. We hurry up and we can make it home in a half an hour, in time for dinner, and Momma’s cornbread.’
Malcolme nodded. He patted his head, smoothing over his fade while looking off distantly towards a mass of broken buildings, some abandoned, some infested.
“You know anybody in there?†his concern showing.
Dane frowned, eyes narrowing, grim again. â€Not anymore, not since before I went off to the corps. You?â€
Malcolme shook his head. “Only a couple ofiggas, shady peeps, nobody really.â€
Dane picked up his gym bag. Malcolme followed suit. They started toward a vacant lot that led to rubble piles and abandoned buildings. Dane said nothing, wearing a bull dog look on his face, his muscles tensed. Malcolme hunched his shoulders, he tried to look wider, more menacing like his big brother.
He hissed under his breath, “Fucking projects, yo.â€
Ok, i can't find the better draft, so this will have to suffice.
“Fast Breakâ€
Fiction by J.M. Hunter, for Engl.280. Creat.Writ.
11/02/02
Dane Michael Xavier bounced the ball on the hard-wood gym floor, once, twice, three times. He liked to get a rhythm going, to get a feel for the ball in his hands. Hearing the basketball hit the floor three times; Dane felt each bounce was a confirmation of confidence building within him. Four, five, six, the affirmation set, a rising crescendo for him to get to his goal. Only one thing in his way, Malcolme, his younger brother.
Malcolme moved in rhythm as well, keeping ready, waiting for Dane to advance. Dane bounced the ball again, seven, eight, nine, bounced the ball again, ten , eleven, twelve. The look of determination on Mal’s face softened, annoyance and thinning patience set in. It was this instant Dane was waiting for.
He charged, faking towards the left then moving to the right, Malcolme stayed with him- barely. Dane spun to the left again, leaving Malcolme, and stormed directly towards the basket. The sound of thunder rebounded off the gym wall, or was it coming from their feet hitting the floor, maybe the driving blood pumping in their veins? Dane was almost underneath the basket. Malcolme was on him instantly. He had caught up.
Dane vaulted off one foot. He extended his outside arm, holding the ball, while simultaneously pushing the other arm against Malcolme’s body, in an effort to build a defense against his younger brother’s aerial assault towards the ball. Dane released the ball from his fingers, off the tips, giving it that extra lift towards the basket, its’ home.
Mal reached for it, incoming denial so imminent. Dane leaned in, pushing his weight on his guarding arm against Malcolme. Both brothers were stretched out, bodies tangled in mid-air; Dane more thickly built than younger Malcolme, who was leaner and taller, but lighter.
Mal fell away, as the ball arced towards the basket. It went in softly, swishing in as if there never was a doubt. It knew where it belonged.
Malcolme’s feet hit the floor first, heavy with disappointment. Dane landed next, despite his heavier bulk. Not fat, but fit, he landed lightly. Then the ball joined the two brothers; bouncing once, twice, three times, before rolling and stopping against the wall, its mission accomplished, a point made. The point made. Malcolme felt betrayed. He ignored the ball and rested his hands on his hips; shaking his head disappointedly, he huffed.
“Damn, man, you always do that shit!†He said with a pouting _expression.
“What?†Dane shrugged, wiping sweat off his brow with the bottom of his shirt. He walked over to the wall and picked up the ball. It stayed silent now. Malcolme held out his hand gesturing to the recently vacated court where the two brothers just battled for supremacy, the ten-point championship.
“That shit, brotha! What the hell was that?â€
“What? You mean a lay-up?†Dane replied, tilting his head to the side, raising a perplexed eye-brow toward Malcolme. Malcolme let out another huff of air, sounding like a bicycle tire hissing flat.
“Shiiit, more like charging fool!†He shook his head for emphasis.
“Whatever gets the job done, and to answer your question: That wuz yo ass, game point sucka.†Dane smiled, walking past, but not before throwing the ball towards Malcolme’s mid-section, getting a grunt and a slight flinch in response.
“Yeah, well I wanna rematch, sucka!†He stuttered with his hand up. Dane turned slightly. He regarded his little brother standing defiantly straight up. He was his full height now of six-three held the ball out with one hand. A similar challenge, like the one that got his ass handed to him just a little while ago. Dane looked into his brother’s brown eyes; this little cupcakea, trying to look hard. Dane wondered how long he could keep that look. Had he learned it while Dane was away serving in the Marines? Did Mal look like that when others tried to front on him? The gangs? Dane couldn’t stand them. He’d watched them go in and out of the pen, and seen some of them disappear forever. He didn’t like being treated or looked at like he was one of them too. He served some time in the brig himself when he was in the Corps. There was an unfortunate incident involving his commanding officer’s arm when he tried to beat Dane during a training session like he was his kid. It got Dane kicked out of the Marines and shipped back home. Which is where he’d rather be now anyways.
He looked at Malcolme studying that hard look so intently and wondered how much he may have missed of his brother and sister, Tanya growing up. If he could help it, he’d never be away from his family again. It was something that worried him on occasion. Some serious shit, this game of life was. Suddenly as if on cue Malcolme’s face cracked into a wide smile, lightening the mood . They both started laughing. Malcolme threw the ball at Dane, hitting him on the lower part of his thickly muscled leg.
“Let’s go. Momma’s waitin.†Dane said, picking up the ball again.
Malcolme locked up the Boys and Girls Club. Dane looked on
“You really like workin here. Don’t you? You like what you do.†Dane asked then handed Malcolme his bag, adjusting his own on his shoulder. Malcolme then dropped the key into his pocket. He looked at Dane.
“Yeah, it’s cool you know. I get to show a lot of what I know to these kids. Some of them, don’t have much, they don’t have an older brother, or at least one that actually gives a damn!â€
Dane figured that this wasn’t the first time Malcolme had been asked this question, or at least thought about it before.
“So what you sayin, I actually give a damn!†Dane glowered. Malcolme smiled in response, knowing his brother was messing with him. Dane didn’t joke much, or smile a lot. He was like a stone, but he was a good man, a family man.
“Jus sayin, that there’s more to life than dealin crack, or gang bangin, or workin the drive thru is all. Even this basketball game is fleeting. You could be the bomb ass cupcakea, and try to play for the pros, but if you get hurt, that’s it! Your out, you know? Game of life, dog.†Malcolme sighed, somber now. Dane nodded once, in silent agreement, then broke the silence.
“Of course lil brother, we all know you ain’t N.B.A. material, kinda weak game you got!†He snorted.
Mal flipped him the finger in response, smiling. His brother was all right. He was young and smart, wanting to make something of himself. Dane, the oldest of three children belonging to a single, hard working mother, felt it was his responsibility to take care of his two younger siblings. He had to help his momma out, with Mal and their younger sister Tanya, who was seventeen, and about to graduate high school. He’d do anything for his family and always protected them whenever they needed it.
A humming noise of exhaust, metal breaking, and churning broke him of his stirrings. Malcolme reacted first, looking at Dane, wide-eyed, with an “oh shit†look on his face. Dane’s face matched his, replacing his usual complacent, grim visage. Malcolme broke into a run.
“Damn, the bus!†His tall legs carried him towards the corner bus stop. Dane ran after him, he was a lot shorter and heavier than Malcolme, so he had to break into a sprint to catch up. He had almost caught up to the younger man when the large white and green transit bus zoomed by. They both turned the corner; Malcolme waived a hand in the air, yelling out frantically.
“Hey, wait up! Stop!†He stopped running. His hand still in the air he angrily dismissed the disappearing bus with a wave, “Maaan, that’s some cold shit!†He stomped at the pavement as Dane approached, slowed down, and caught his breath. Tight lipped, he didn’t say anything, not particularly surprised at this turn of events. Mal on the other hand wasn’t ready to let it go.
“Man what the hell! I know he saw my ass!†He put his hands on his waist and shook his head again, like he always did when something wasn’t going right.
“Malâ€, Dane finally said. Malcolme looked at Dane waiting for his brother to speak in that quiet baritone of his. “We ain’t in our neighborhood. This the city man, they ain’t gonna stop for two blacks all hollering, running down the street.â€
“What you mean two blacks all hollering?†He jokingly glared down at Dane; “You was eatin my dust, trying to catch up!†Dane chuckled at this, and shook his head. He started to think about what to do next, but Malcolme was just getting started.
“Dude, that’s still fucked up though! He coulda stopped, yeah he could stopped.†He held up his hands in mock surrender, “What the hell we gonna rob a bus for, huh? For some mother-fucking change?†He snorted, then continued. Dane let him. Malcolme hunched over holding his hands in front of him shaking them, langly fingers and all.
“Exeeeecuuuuse me, Mistah bus drivah, suh!†In his best Po black man’s voice. “Wit this here hand fo’ of change, I jus robbed from ya’sâ€, He finished in his best Bryant Gumble impersonation. “I can save a buck or two!†Dane let out a laugh at this point, barely able to hold it in, Malcolme joined in too.
‘It’s still jacked up man! That was the last bus!â€
“I know, I know.†Dane said calming down. The two brothers looked at each other, laughter abated now. Dane knew already what was on Malcolme’s mind. Still the nineteen year old said it.
“It takes almost two hours to go all the way around. Momma will get worried.â€
“Straight.†Dane agreed.
“We could call her to let her know. Should we?â€
Dane shook his head no. “She’ll worry even more, want to pick us up. No. I don’t want her driving out this late.â€
“So we gonna do it then?†Malcolme asked, taking a deep breath, zipping up his jacket as he suddenly got colder. Dane stood up, rolled his wide shoulders back. He looked off in the distance, his voice just as far.
“If we do, we go thru quick, no stopping and we’ll stay by the empty buildings. We hurry up and we can make it home in a half an hour, in time for dinner, and Momma’s cornbread.’
Malcolme nodded. He patted his head, smoothing over his fade while looking off distantly towards a mass of broken buildings, some abandoned, some infested.
“You know anybody in there?†his concern showing.
Dane frowned, eyes narrowing, grim again. â€Not anymore, not since before I went off to the corps. You?â€
Malcolme shook his head. “Only a couple ofiggas, shady peeps, nobody really.â€
Dane picked up his gym bag. Malcolme followed suit. They started toward a vacant lot that led to rubble piles and abandoned buildings. Dane said nothing, wearing a bull dog look on his face, his muscles tensed. Malcolme hunched his shoulders, he tried to look wider, more menacing like his big brother.
He hissed under his breath, “Fucking projects, yo.â€
