Chap 2: Reunion of Past Funerals

Laphy came to pick me up after I left a message on his answering machine, he also brought along “my should” have been brother Mcfadden. Laphy drove and Mcfadden sat in passenger, while I road in the back. He had a black truck with tented windows, which matched the color of his suit and even blended in with his dark skin. Mcfadden began rolling a blunt. I lit a cig. From our ceremonial catch up conversation I learned Curt Sexton’s club was a huge success. I also learned of Laphy’s position there as a bouncer/manager of illegal substances. I also learned about The Krew’s trafficking feats, trading illegal contraband on the black market between drug lords. The growth of our group’s infamous criminal fame had become legend among mobsters and syndicates.

I looked at Laphy, his lightened black complexion made me think about his story. Laphy grew up with his black adopted grandparents, who adopted his white mother when she was a child. His mother moved to Texas and slowely became a junky there. She eventually had Laphy and his twin sister with an unknown African American man. Laphy grew up in a crack house, with crack heads all around him, till the law forced his “grand parents” to take custody over him and his sibling. That is how he got to Sanford and from a chain of strange events he grew into The Krew.

I looked at Mcfadden who had just sparked the blunt. The cherry colored embers reflected off his eyes filling them with fire, which were concealed under his glasses. His hair was black and his skin tan, people always confused us as brothers, because we looked kind of alike. His life was basically more fucked up than our average Joe to the left, but for personal reasons the details will not be revealed.

We found ourselves high as hell and in Sanford. The city lights of towering buildings blinded us. We came up to Nico’s neighborhood which was one straight road leading to a dead end or at least that is how I remembered it growing up. Nico was my Pilipino Krew brother. Son of a Baptist preacher this kid was all brown Asian Rasta. Somehow he convinced his parents to move out and leave him the house. There was a row of houses on each side, but contradicting how I remembered it, there was now a party in every house. Each yard had been turned into a parking lot and through each window I could see hordes of people. The end of the road which use to be a dead end leading to a trail, which then lead to a tent, which The Krew used as a smoking spot since forever was now replaced with a massive three story building. On the front in red, green and yellow was the title “Club Krew”.

We parked on the lawn of the end left house, which was Nico’s. I saw a few old acquaintances walking towards the club. One of them was Fez a seven foot tall giant, June a half white half black NY old school gangster walked on his left side and on Fez’s right was the infamous Verbal. They were all former members of the national rap gang called “Blood’s”. Laphy told me somehow Fez inherited a large portion of the Blood’s stock, meaning he was rolling in money and had the power of a massive syndicate behind him

Giant gang Lord Fez walked to the front of the club. His click June and Verbal fallowed behind him. I could tell they had been living off of Fez’s royalties. They wore flashy black suits, designed for clubbing, cloths I never expected to see them in. The red bandana that use to be rapped around Fez’s head, now stuck out of his suit pocket. June and Verbal were decorated in red bandanas also. Fez pointed at a few thugs waiting in line to get into the club, they were rocking black bandanas. June lit a cigarette taking it from his mouth to point at the 666 emblem written in tattoo across his neck.

“Go run and call your click fools. I want to see your best hundred behind you. Please set them up for execution,” June said simply. He snapped his fingers and automatically a horde of cars pulled up at the road behind him, stopping incoming traffic. A red bandana stuck out from every one of their tented windows.

“As you can see this is our hood. This club here is our home. We live in this fucking club so head on home. Before one of us gets ill and decides which one of you fuckers we want to kill,” Verbal said. The guys walked out of the waiting line and crossed the street. Automatically the cars emptied out the color red. The army of them Marched to the front of the line, walking right into the club labeled Club Krew, as though they were expected.

I followed Laphy and Fadden through the doors of the club stopping when a bouncer put his right hand in front of me causing me to lose my two companions at the door. He asked my name. I told him. His eyes widened as though in surprise, saying these exact words, “I am very sorry sure. I did not know it was you. By the way sir, welcome back to the Krew,” He stepped aside letting me through looking a bit ashamed or embarrassed. Inside the stropping lights blinded my sensitive eyes. When I could see again an orgasm of beauty hit my pupils. I do not know if it was the high or the sight that struck me. There was one bar which circled the wall all around the club. There were tables filled with people and in the middle the dance floor was placed. Red green and yellow lights circled over head, while the tile on the floor rayed black light which changed everything that came in contact with it into a foreign color. It was beautiful.

“Hey, what is up man?” A familiar voice shouted at me over the club’s pulsing music. It was Pun a small time 3rd street drug dealer who we use to transfer for free, but now he was a king pin and rolling in the top of the dope game. I walked over to his table binding down to give him a hug. Across from him was Rose his incredibly psycho sister. I remember watching her beat down three girls into bloody pulps. One was missing teeth, another brain activity.

“I missed you both. You look like you have done well for yourselves,” I said high from disavow created by memories.

“Oh yeah we are doing well, business is good and the American economy is suffering for it. Anyway we can catch up later. The special Krew room is on the second floor first door on the right. Take the elevator,” I left giving a short goodbye, knowing this wasn’t going to be the last time I would see him, during my stay in Sanford.

I went into the elevator. Upon walking in I saw two Caucasians making out. The male wore a white tuxedo; the female was dressed in a white short cut skirt. I recognized them even though they paid no attention to me. After piecing together the small uncontrollable glances I saw of their faces I figured out that it was Curt Sexton and Kihm Johnson. It warmed my heart to see that they had made it this far in their relationship and still going strong. All the same it made me take a look at suicide once again with specific current events at the root of its cause. It is incredible how people lose the one thing making their life worth living yet they still find the will or the strength to live on with nothing.

Curt looked up and noticed me. One more surprised face to put on the list. I couldn’t tell if he was happy till he got off of Kihm and gave me a hug. Kim hugged me after. They were both a bit embarrassed for reaching around second base in front of me and not recognizing me sooner, but I assured them it was straight. The elevator door opened and I followed them out standing at the first door on the left. Curt flung it open changing the scene of a cold hotel hallway into the most comfortable atmosphere a rental room could ever have. I saw Laphy and Mcfadden, the two I had previously introduced as senior brothers in the Krew. Taking a beer bong was Carl, the youngest yet tallest of the Sexton Brothers. He out of the three showed the highest level of maturity. Giving the beer bong was Chris; Curt’s twin and oldest of the Sextons by five minutes. He had a son, who was almost three last I laid eyes on him.

Carl stood up after sucking down the beer. He slung the funnel from his hand stumbling a bit with his eyes closed. When he opened them they widened with surprise. His face turned pale as though he stood in the presents of a ghost or universal spectrum. At once the two Sextons attacked me in a group hug.

“I can’t believe you have back, man. It has been too long,” Carl said under his breath.