IBO - Brian R. Lundin (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

we could have another Simba in the making.”
“Naw, let them two fuckers do it,” Pop ordered.
Jimmyboy and Paco grabbed Lobo by his arms and he started to struggle. He started screaming for help and crying. Cinque hit Lobo in the mouth with his cilice. Paco and Jimmyboy dragged Lobo over to the window for Malik to push him out.
Paco’s eyes were wide with fear as he watched Lobo’s frail little arms fluttering in the wind as if grabbing for some invisible object to break his fall. He hit the concrete with a thud his lifeless eyes looking up direct at Paco.
Paco felt a twisted pain in his gut as he gasped for air and his body started to heave as he vomited explosively, the undigested taco meat and beer he had ate earlier splattered on him, the window sill and Jimmyboy. He was sweating profusely as Cinque gently wiped his mouth with a damp towel.
Cinque looked out the window and watched the red blood began to slowly curve around Lobo’s head, he saw the feces, and urine stains on his already stained underwear.
“Blood and shit,” Cinque thought as he remembered his Uncle Claude words.
“So you like to fuck little girls, huh, asshole,” Cinque said with a smile that resembled a snake eyeing his prey.
“Your turn, motherfucka, strip,” Cinque, continued.
“Please Pops, please Malik I was fucked up man, fucked up, I’m sorry,” Paco said pleading and crying to Pops.
“Shut the fuck up and stop whimpering like a little bitch, it’s too late to be sorry now muthafucka, strip,” Cinque ordered.
Just like Lobo, Paco hands was shaking so bad he could not unzip his jacket. Cinque nodded to Mano and he began to cut Paco’s clothing off with the big knife. The cold wind and fear made Paco shiver uncontrollably. When Mano cut Paco’s pants off he handed the knife back to Cinque. Cinque recognizing the fear that preludes death began to feel the same sexual arousal that he had felt a long time ago at the Binnwa’s compound. As he lifted the knife to carry out the sentence, Pops said pointing to Jimmyboy, “Make that little motherfucka do it”
Reluctantly Cinque handed the big knife to Jimmyboy and said, “Cut this young girl rapist dick off.”
Jimmyboy hesitated.
“Either cut his dick off, or I’m going to cut yours off,” Cinque said.
Jimmyboy’s hand shook as he took the knife.
Cinque masturbated Paco until he had an erection and held his penis
“Now cut,” Cinque said quietly, feeling his manhood raising.
However, before Jimmyboy could react, Malik grabbed the knife from Jimmyboy and with one large swing had cut off Paco penis. Paco screams was blotted out by the roar of the wind coming across the cold waters of Lake Michigan as he was thrown out the window by the Simbas. Cinque watched the few moments it took for Paco’s body to hit the ground as he watch the blood gush from the body he ejaculated.

Chapter 15

May 2000

Malik had been in the hospital for two months. Doctor Westbrook arranged for a tutor from his high school to come to the hospital every day. A nurse had removed the body cast he had worn since the surgery, and he was starting to get some feelings in his legs, he could wiggle his toes and he could move his legs slightly. Malik was lying on his bed reading one of his schoolbooks when Doctor Westbrook came into the room.
“You ready?” he asked pulling one of the long silver needles out of its black leather case.
“Ready,” Malik answered.
Doctor Westbrook stuck the needle in his left leg and a drop of blood came out the wound, but this time Malik feels a sharp pain and his leg jumped. The doctor repeated the procedure on his other leg and it jumped.
“Ouch, I felt that, “Malik said smiling.
“Very good, very good,” the doctor said, a broad smile covering his handsome face.
“Looks like the operation went well and the back is ok, tomorrow we’ll start your rehabilitation; you will have to learn how to walk all over again. Let's see if you can stand up,” Doctor Westbrook said putting the needle back into his black pouch.
Doctor Westbrook helped Malik swing his legs out of the bed. His legs were weak but he was able to stand up with the doctor’s help. This is the first time Malik has been out of the bed for over a month.
“You're weak from being in the bed so long. I want you to try to sit up more, letting your legs hang down from the bed. That will help the circulation,” Doctor Westbrook said leaving the room.
The next morning Malik awoke with an urgent need to relieve to use the bathroom.
“No more bedpans for me he thought to himself.”
Malik looked out the window and saw the cars whizzing by on the expressway. The sun had started to rise in the east and it looked like it was going to be a nice day. He slowly sat up in the bed that had been his home for so long, and pushed the controls on the bed until one railing lowered. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed he noticed the feelings were back and he felt a throbbing pain, he paused a moment until it subsided. He took a deep breath, put both hands on the side of the bed, and slowly stood up. The white marbled floor was cold to his bare feet, but it felt good and he knew that the feelings were returning. He felt dizzy and he quickly supported himself on the bed railing. After a few moments, the dizziness left and he slowly started to walk the few feet towards the bathroom. A tug on his right arm reminded him that monitor and IV, sitting on a metal stand with rollers, was still plugged into an outlet on the wall.
Malik unplugged the IV and monitor and rolled them towards the bathroom. Sitting on the stool Malik thought how the little things in life that we take for granted are so important. The little things that we do every day; getting out the bed, walking to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet stool, little everyday things that we never even think about, until we can’t do them anymore.
“There’s got to be a better way,” Malik thought to himself.
As he was coming out of the bathroom a stocky white nurse who name tag read Bonnie Stevens RN was bringing in his food tray, met him at the bathroom door.
“What are you doing out of bed young man?” she asked sternly.
“Bathroom,” Malik answered shyly.
“The IV alarm went off at the nursing station and scared us all, you have heard of bedpans, right,” she said amusingly.
“Yes ma’am, but I am tired of using those things.”
“Well no harm done, your doctor left instructions that he wanted you to try to walk around anyway and start going to rehab classes. I’ll be back in a few to unhook you, until then, let me help you back to bed.”
For some unknown reason Malik began to cry. The nurse moved quickly into the room and put the tray down on the table. She took a napkin off the nightstand and gently began to wipe the tears as she helped him into bed.
“Its okay, Malik, it’s the injury. You are a very lucky young man and you have one of the best doctors in the country.
Your wounds will heal in time but it may take a little more time for the emotional wounds to heal, so be patient, ok?”
The nurse raised the back of the bed and pulled the table over to Malik.
“Let’s see what’s for breakfast,” she said cheerfully as she removed the cover over the food.
“Wow, cornflakes, wheat toast, grape jelly, orange juice and milk, enjoy, I’ll be back shortly.”
For the next month, Malik did as instructed by the doctor, twice a day he went to the rehab room and did exercises for his legs and back, and once a week a nurse drove him to the YMCA at 51st South Indiana Avenue where he exercised in the pool.
One afternoon after coming back from the YMCA Reverend Clarence James of the Second Church of Deliverance and two church sisters were waiting in his room. The reverend helped him sit down on the bed and the sisters hugged him.
“How you feeling young man?” the reverend asked.
“Getting better, reverend.”
“We miss you at church and the kids in your “MENTOR A CHILD PROGRAM” told us to tell you to hurry up and get well because they miss you,” one of the sisters said.
“We came by to pray with you and for you,” the reverend said.
After the prayer the reverend and the sister rose.
“You take care and remember God loves you,” the reverend said to amen’s from the sisters.
Three weeks later Malik had gradually regained his strength and his ability to walk as his other wounds healed. After another two more months in the hospital, Malik walked unassisted into Doctor Westbrook office.
“Well, you did it, congratulations. You will be released tomorrow,” Doctor Westbrook said writing out a prescription.
“Thank you doctor for everything you've done, I won’t forget it.”
“I’m going to miss you young man, you've been an ideal patient. When you check out the nurse will give you some instruction, be sure to follow them and take the medication. I’ll see you for a follow-up examination in about two weeks; any problems call me right away.”
Doctor Westbrook gave Malik one of his cards and motion for him to sit down. Taking off his glasses and looking tired, he looked at Malik for a long time before speaking.
”You are a good kid, Malik, I know your home life is not the best but don’t waste your life gangbanging, get out of the gangs and stop dealing with drugs and the associated violence, the next time you might not be so lucky. I have seen my share of tragedy every day and night it sweeps through this emergency room. Cocaine or crack induced deaths, burnt skin and dead young black kids. I don't mean to preach to you, but I don’t want to see you one night on a cold slab.”
“I hear you doc,” Malik says as he leaves the office.
Malik returned home and is welcomed by his family, the State Street Boys.

Chapter 16

Before going upstairs, Malik stopped in the playground, where Pops, Cinque and Contact are talking. Pops giving Malik the gang sign says, “What’s up my man, how you feeling?”
Malik returning the gang sign answered.” I’m cool, how is everything going?”
“Everything cool, business is good and everything smooth,” Pops replies.
“Ready to go back to