SAL

Ignorance Is Bliss

CHAPETER 4

                Head high Sal marched his way to Chuck’s house, it was 2 0’clock in the morning and Chuck was going to answer the door. On his way there he couldn’t help but replay the exchange of fiery words between him and his mother. He turned the block quickly dodging the police cars that sped past him. At 2 o’clock in the morning any man was a suspect and an offender. Double checking the streets Sal crossed head down with the broken streetlight throwing off his shadow into broken slits. With anchors as his shoes he jogged up the steps to the small house and rang the doorbell. He rang it once. Twice. Three times and no answer, He called out for Chuck and was met by a loud “What??!!” Sal stepped back knowing he would get the hint. After five minutes in the cold lips chattering the door finally creaked open revealing a heavy set-droopy-eyed-bad-breathed Chuck. Sal pushed by and as he did Chuck looked down and noticed the heavy duffel bag that was slung on Sal’s arm. He decided not to ask any questions.

                Sal walked up the creaking staircase and entered Chuck’s room. It was nothing but cords, speakers, and every type of laptop and music instrument you’ll ever need. Chuck looked after his friend. He could literally see the world pushing down on his shoulder which would explain the slight hunch whenever he walked. Both boy’s walked upstairs Sal kicked his shoes off and quickly made his pallet but not before Chuck could ask him a question “Nigga why you here?”

Sal turned over sitting off and fishing for the blunt that was in his pocket. Chuck’s eyes went wide, for all the years he knew Sal he never seen him smoke, not even when the whole crew was getting high. Sal just never showed his problems, He rapped about them and even then he told everything and nothing at all. Sal stood up and took a puff of the blunt and nodded to Chuck’s home computer he clicked on track two and just let loose.

“Kill him where he stand and stand over him shake his hand

Then jump back in that minivan, double back to his block and blam I ain't backing down for nothing

I'ma back em down like Shaq with this black 2-2-3 in my hand

Better pray that this chopper jam like a radio single, man

Police radio signals sayin' that a 187 land on your corner, coroners comfort your mama

Mama he's dead, the next morning I toasted up with my homies

We drink and smoke marijuana, want us to change our ways? Uh-huh

You see this game we play come from uncles that raised me in Chicago

Ask me what I have accomplished I don't know I don't have conscience

I just load up and start dumpin' on enemies I'm head hunting

No sympathy, ain't no love when you in these streets just get something

Protect ya neck cuz they comin' for sets, respect, split your onion

Then chop your deck your head tumblin' like gymnastics

Cause ignorance is bliss”

Chuck was immediately on it as he sat in his chair and flipped with the controls. That was the Flow ‘til 4 o’clock in the morning. No conversation just the calming sound of His voice over the beat. When he felt as if there weren’t any more words left he stepped back from the mike and stood back as he watched Chuck’s face glimmer in happiness.