It was winter in early 1998. By then a north heights gangster of Joney's notoriety simply couldn't dwell in a single place and thrive. While not necessarily being on the run from anyone or anything; he undoubtedly was prudent to cover his tracks continually. While forfeiting a place to call a permanent home; he could easily afford and enjoy modest hotels; and their regularly offered amenities. He could dine like a low key celebrity, yet remain hidden among those on sheer leisure. For Joney, well gone were the days of cheap motels and street corner take out meals. He was dressed in the best name branded suits, and a dress hat and shoes to match. Joney had never been a jewelry enthusiast, but had bought himself the finest of jewelry in the area simply because he could afford it.
In his bathroom were various guns and jewelry scattered about the bathroom sink counter, along with drug paraphernalia about the suite's tables. On another table were several rolls of tattered hundred dollar bills. He remained shirtless with the dress hat on, and was smoking his cigar slowly with one eye squinted. He remained starring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, as he slowly nodded to himself in an odd manner. However it certainly was not one of self admiration. After years of set backs in jail and rehabilitation clinics; Joney finally attained a position highly coveted by the gangsters of his day. With only a few thugs and a boy under him, he was then generating an upwards of 15 to 30 thousand dollars a month. It was enough to make Knight, and the otherwise northern gang hierarchy far more than satisfied with his productivity.
In Joney's times of past sorrow, he'd imagine his happiness with but a small fraction of these current earnings. Strangely by now he was not content, nor at any level of inner peace. He knew that his own reflection which he observed so intently, was of one now only belonging to a madman. He had surpassed the necessity for ferociousness in his illicit daily tasks, and all that remained was the remnants of his conscience to weigh in and haunt him. By that point he knew well that there were only two possibilities for him in his long career in banditry; having now past it's height. For there was no backing down or slowly creeping out of that level of iniquitous achievement. He'd either press on to maintain what he gained, or allow it to be taken from him. Even with his recognized heinous accomplishments, he felt exhausted, lonesome, and psychologically sapped. Worse yet, was his sudden realization that everything he did was through the manifestation of an unexplained phenomenom.
He allowed the sink to run and began washing his hands that were already clean in themselves. He began twitching in frustration, as if a house fly were close to his ear. Then looking away from the mirror, he put his hands against his ears and began to breath heavily. It was if he was experiencing a severe anxiety attack. Closing his eyes he then began to calm down, slowed his breathing, and proceeded to wash his face. After coming to, he began mumbling to himself as if having a conversation to himself in the mirror,
"You can't just wash that off Joney boy. In deep, is where you at G. They coming for ya baby, and you can smell it, can't ya? Ain't nobody gonna let you sit on this throne you got, and not try to take it. Even Knight, as proud as he said he was. Them just words Joney. Make him look good yeah, but leaving him out of the lime light too? Nah, He'll just as easily lay you out as these other suckers. Remember Jermaine, ummm hmmm? You proved it though Joney Jamison, eh? Ruthless. Now what's left to show? Not a god dammed thing. They ain't looking down at you, you looking down at them right?"
Joney then took a deep breath as his eyes began to water. He tried hard to hold it back and wiped his nose. Shaking the remorse out of himself, he continued as if disappointed,
"You let them have her just like that; didn't ya. That girl trusted you man, talking about how she was going back home. You knew damn well they wasn't gonna let her out Joney. Part of you wanted to see it happen, but when you did it; wasn't the same was it? Too late now baby. Too late to show weakness, too late to have regrets. Besides, every time a ho say they gonna leave, you know it ain't gonna happen like that. Never does. Nah, cuz that o'l money talks over words trying to sound morally just. Chasing that dream that ain't even there to begin with, right? We're all just prey in the wild man. It was gonna happen to o'l girl one way or another. Can't sweat that. Ain't no escaping that on these here streets partner."
