I Ain't Done Yet

Goodbye LA

I'm jolted awake by a pair of strong hands picking me up by my dirty white tank-top and throwing me against the wall.

"Aw fuck!" I mutter as I collapse into a ball on the floor. My hands shoot for the unbearable pain in my lower ribs. I think I cracked one.

"Pick 'em up, Lamar" a deep black male voice thunders from somewhere in the darkness and I'm lifted up from the floor by my neck.

"Stupid-ass cracker", Lamar mumbles ass he picks me up.

"Now, Mr. Cullet, the LA Kings told you that if you didn't pay up for this weeks' and last weeks', and last last weeks', and last last last weeks' rent, that we are gonna fuck you up" the Drug Lord says calmly inches away from face. "And by the looks of it, you haven't paid up. Looks like my nigga, Lamar, is gonna have to play a bit with yo' ass."

"Now come on, Levante, can't we make a deal?" I ask stretching my arms out to him but Lamar pushes them back down behind my back.

"That what you said for the last four weeks. Now you gonna pay up. Take care of 'em, L" he says and walks out the room.

Lamar throws me against the other wall and cracks his knuckles. "Looks like we gonna play, Cracka" he says with a smile on his giant lips.

He takes a few steps towards me and I, out of fear, punch as hard as possible into his stomach. It's like punching a a rock.

Clenching my fist, I exclaim, "Holy shit! Ow, fuck!" Lamar just laughs, grabs me by the shirt and lifts me off the ground again.

"Please don't, man! I'll do anything!" I plead, but he body slams me into the ground.

I've never been man handled before like this, it's usually the other way around.

But, he picks me up again and flings me toward the window. My apartment is on the second floor, which is about 12 feet off the ground. I smash through the window and flail down until I land on top of something metal. I've never felt so much pain before on my body, but I'm alright, I guess. I stay perfectly still like I'm dead because I don't need that giant to come and play with me some more.

I hear a deep chuckle and footsteps fade away from the window so I know I'm good. I open my eyes and take in all that I see.

Other than the bright Los Angeles lights, the night sky is a dark purple with little speckles of white twinkling stars. It is a little humid and warm, but it's extremely comfy. If I haven't just been thrown out of a second story window, I'd actually be relaxed.

Starting to get up, I take notice of what I landed on; the hood of a light green station wagon. It now has a huge dent in the shape of my body and the windshield is cracked. Little pieces of glass surround the car from the apartment window.

As I slide off the hood of the car, my back flares in monstrous pain. I clench my teeth and slowly move. But if I'm going to get out of here, I'm going to have to be quick. So I limp over to a near-by SUV and pull on the drivers door to see if it's unlocked. Nope. So with my other hand, I punch through the window and unlock the door. Almost as soon as the window shattered, the alarm goes off.

"HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!" the white Escalade screams into the city night. So I jump into the seat and duck under the dash. After a few seconds the SUV is hot wired and ready to go.

Flipping on the LED headlights, and shifting into Drive, I speed out of the alley and slide onto Grand Avenue barely missing traffic. Within minutes I weave my way onto the 101-Freeway east out of the largest city in America.

What am I going to do now? Everything is in that apartment in South Central. I have no money, phone, clothes or food. Just then, I reach over and unlock the console. Inside there is a wad of about seven $20 bills. My eyes almost pop out of my head. Well, so much for the money problem for now.

Somewhat satisfied, I continue driving down the 110 Freeway until I see the sign reading 'I-15 North to Las Vegas'.

"That's my exit" I mutter with a smirk. This is crazy, I just left Los Angeles on a short notice and now I'm going to Vegas. But where am I going to stay? I don't have the money for a hotel or a apartment. What if I just stay with my cousin Lenny? I was told he was has a small house in Henderson. But he's a little nuts. His house is lined with security cameras, windows covered with Titanium bars and his front door is loaded with at least 6 different electronically locks. And that's just for starts. But also I heard he is unbelievably smart and he once hosted one of the largest heists ever known; the Union Depository of San Andreas. Had a score of over 4 tons of gold. Damn.

So I decide to stay with Lenny, I just need to find a telephone. Just now I sign appears reading 'Rest Area'. Perfect! I pull off the I-15 and into the rest area.

I step out of the car and walk into the main building. The first thing I see is the pay phones right in front of me. I head straight for them and dial Lenny's old cell number. He picks up on the fifth ring.

"Hello?" a quick, out of breath voice answers.

"Hey Cuz. It's me Jacob." I answer insecurely.

"I don't know anyone named Jacob... Where did I live exactly 5 years ago?"

"Come on man, it's me JC. Uh... Didn't you live in Vegas all your life?" I say annoyed.

"Oh hey Cuz! What's up? You know I can't be for sure until I can trace the number, hack into the nearby security cameras and make sure this is you." I says in a normal voice. It's kind of scary that he can do all that.

"Great to know you care that much about me" I say sarcastically into the mouthpiece.

"No, no, no. I didn't do it for your safety, I did it for mine!" he says nonchalantly.

I roll my eyes, "So Lenny, I've got a problem..." I say, beginning the story on how I got into this mess and how I need a place to stay as I try to get my life together. "So... What do ya' think?" I finish.

"Well, It seems like you done fucked up, haven't you?" he says laughing at his stupid remark. "You can't stay here, ya' know with the FBI looking for me, BUT you can stay at the Motel 6 on Tropicana? It's only a quarter mile away from the strip and its free. I know the owner and uh, ya. Just show up at my house and I'll give you the key to the room."

"Thanks, Len. Really. This is really helping me out." I say extremely gracious.

"Ah, don't mention it. Just, don't kill yourself" he says with a chuckle and hangs up the phone. I do the same and head back out to the still running Escalade.

The warm night air makes my senses relax and make me feel more control over myself. I view over the interstate and into the California Mountain Range. Off to my left I can see the lights of Los Angeles and to the right I see nothing but light traffic on the interstate climbing into California Desert.

I take a few steps toward the Escalade and a huge waft of Marijuana blasts me in the face.

"What the fuck?" I ask myself and open the drivers door. The smell gets even stronger. I walk to the rear hatch and pop it open. Even stronger. Inside the trunk is a red cooler, so in my curiosity I open it up. Inside is about 10 pounds of weed.

"Holy fucking shit!" I exclaim and slam the lid shut. "I'm fucking rich!"

I shut the hatch and sprint to the drivers door, jump in and floor it. The SUV flies out of the parking lot and onto I-15. I'm gonna get to Lenny as soon as possible.