Dust in the Wind: The Undoing of Malachi King

Fight Night

As the alarm goes off, warning me of the hour I had left before Devon left for work, I enjoy the rest of my high I slept into. As I get out of bed, I stretch happily because today- I have absolutely nothing to do. I begin my daily task of setting out his work clothes and packing his lunch before waking him up to shower. He's actually pretty amazing when he isn't awake to be ignorant or childish. I roll about five blunts by time he's out of the shower and another six by time he's out the door. I make coffee and a sandwich with enough time to hand it off to his mother and wish her a good day about forty-five minutes after Devon's gone.

Finally, the house to myself. Hmm, it's wednesday.. What to do? What. To. Do..? Mmmmm. Screw it, I'm gonna call my nigga and see if she trynna smoke....

I hadn't even made it to my cell phone yet, when there was a loud knocking at the door.

"Now, who the fuck is knocking on niggas doors at 830 in the morning?" I ask myself as I grudginlgy walk to the door.

The door had barely opened 2 inches before a big ball of uruguayan energy burst thru the door.

"Hola Prima! Whatchu doing? Whatchu got going today?"

"I was just about to call you to come smoke and keep me company actually."

"Well let's go! Let's go! Let's go! We gotta talk."

"My nigga we always gotta talk. This about your bitch? Or this 'bout one of your side-hoes?" I respond jokingly.

Since my nigga Sharmane is straight from Uruguay, her english is slightly off. However, whenever we start collaborating it's almost as if neither of us know english very well. She begins to tell me about a new girl she's been talking to. Wondering if she should continue with her current ass of a girlfriend or just break it off and be single and explore her options for awhile. I give her my opinion and say what I would do, silently hoping she'll take my advice and leave her crazy-ass-alcoholic-drama-queen girlfriend.

"So, do you like this one? I mean I ask you this about every broad you start talkin to but that doesn't make it any less valid of a question. And don't just jump into shit but, do you think it would be a good idea to just be single for a minute and seriously just explore?"

"Iono the thing is.," She pauses," . She kinda has a boyfriend." She mumbles this last part.

"Really bro? Another science fair project?," I laugh, "I thought we discussed that shit?"

"YEA, YEA. I know, I know." She hangs her head slightly.

Sighing as I shake my head, I offer her a blunt as I take another out of my hair, "Wanna see who can smoke a blunt  to the face fastest?"

Later on, as Sharmane and I are walking back to the block laughing and joking, Nick and the crew are at the corner watching a boxing match. As we walk up smelling like bomb and cologne, the boys' attention shifts from the match to our intoxicating aroma.

"Malachi, bro! What'd you get from the club this time?," Nick smiles.

"Good shit. Duh." I laugh looking at Sharmane and realizing that the two of us probably looked extremely LOADED.

"It's called Mango Kush and it's quite deli-si-us." Sharmane replies thru the huge cheesey smile plastered across her face.

"Haha yeaa, we can see that," Nick laughs, " ayee Sharmane though. You trynna throw the gloves on?"

"Hell yeah but only if I can fight mi prima."

"Awwww that's how you feel?," Putting a mock hurt look on my face,"We done spent all day smoking together and now you trynna fight? Damn that's how you feel lil' homie?"

"Don't be a pussy prima. I'll go easy on you so I don't beat your ass again." She taunts.

"Oooooooooooh! She called you a pussy my nigga." Nick instigates, "You just gone take that?"

Everyone had been waiting, with baited breath I might add, for a rematch to the fight a few weeks prior. I mean the nigga got me with a haymaker after I hadn't fought in almost a year but I was still standing. I got a lil' bloody nose and the left side of my face was swollen for a few weeks and I didn't have any feeling on that side of my face under my eye for almost three months but, she hadn't knocked  me out. She didn't beat my ass. She got one lucky shot.

"Aight my nigga. Lemme spark this blunt and I got a koo lil' ass whoopin' comin' yo' way blood." I heard myself respond.

"AWW SHIT! We got a rematch ladies and gentlemen. It's about to get real out chea my niggas." Nick announces as the rest of the crew immediately begin to place bets. 

Something about thinking about that lucky shot caused the darkness in me to stir. As I started pumping myself up for the fight, voices I hadn't heard since childhood began to speak. At first I thought it was just the wind, they were only whispers in the back of my mind. Brushing off the murmurings, I focused on the match. Although they were always in good fun, if they let them go on too long shit got serious and it became an all out brawl. At one time or another one of the matches almost went from boxing to MMA. I mean, I had had half of a mind to put her in a gullotine chokehold and call it over. As for the match up between us, our only difference was that I was more slender than she was and her arms were bigger than mine.

As the blunt winds down to the last few hits, we begin warming up and stretching. Almost acting as if it was an all pro match, we avoid each other's eyes trying to keep from psyching ourselves out.

"Alright bro, You ready? 'Cuz I'm finna beat yo' ass this time my nigga." I say playfully as Nick tightens my gloves, quietly giving me advice.

"OK, Malachi look she may be slightly bigger than you but you've actually got the advantage. You've got the agility to move faster than her. Her blows may come out hard but they're slow. Watch for when she sets up for that haymaker, she got you once so she's gonna try to hit you with it again. She drops her shoulder when she gets ready to drop it, completely leaving her face open. Avoid the hit and take the shot." In an even lower undertone he adds, "These niggas don't believe you got what it takes. They think you're all talk after that shot. Show them what you can do. Show them you're more than what they give you credit for."

"Allllriight coach you got it." I smile.

As Nick steps back, I can see everbody's phone out and ready already recording. Ready for that moment where one of us has their pride stripped away. I decided that one lucky shot was enough and that this time i was gonna give it to her.

"I want a good clean fight. Nothing below the belt, no cheap shots." Nick dictates as if he was a legitimate referee,"Now touch gloves and let's get it on."

Quickly preparing myself for the barrage of blows that had already begun to rain down, I throw my hands up replaying Nick's advice over and over in my head.

Look for the opening and swing.

Don't be a pussy. Just swing. Stop actin like a lil bitch and just beat the fuck out this nigga already. The voice within me retorts.

Before I could register anything, I began to switch my stance back and forth, throwing out punches like I was fighting for my life. I could feel myself start to smile as I watched her frustration grow. As my momentum grew her energy dwindled. But at the same time, It wasn't me. It was almost as if something within me had taken over, like a caged beast trying to break free. Everytime she set up a haymaker, I dodged and returned with a left hook. Back and forth the punches flew. The screams of my peers blurred into the night. Toe to toe we went for almost an hour. It wasn't until she turned  around as I swung when Nick called an end to the fight. Everyone was dead silent. For once, nobody had anything to say. They just looked at me stunned as if I had shot my own best friend. I turn to see if it was something behind me. There was. My best friend laid out on the floor.