By Criminal Design

by Blacc Topp

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

A conspiracy draws Julius Jr. into the brutal streets of South Dallas, where pimping, drug dealing, treachery, and betrayal go hand in hand.

Julius Jr.’s childhood is far less than perfect. He is torn between his mother and father, who are going through a bitter divorce. His world is turned upside down when his father takes him from the comfort of the family home in Benton Harbor, Michigan, to the brutal streets of South Dallas, Texas.

When Julius Jr.’s family is gruesomely murdered, his life takes a dramatic turn. His mother, Naje’, moves to Texas to care for her youngest son and finds herself drawn into a conspiracy that threatens not only his life but hers as well. Roll with Julius as he grows into the ultimate hustler and unrelenting killer that the gang-ridden streets of South Dallas often breed. Where pimping, drug dealing, treachery, and betrayal go hand in hand.

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Julius, Jr. awoke to the sound of muffled voices and the front door slamming. The voices sounded far away, but he knew his father’s deep baritone. He climbed from his bed, walked to the edge of the stairway, and sat on the top step.

“I can’t control what time Arthur comes to get his kids, Julius. You’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? It’s almost midnight, and this clown is knocking on our door. He was supposed to be here at six to get his kids. Now six hours later, he pulls up, beating on the door like the law. I’m trying to stay out of your business where he’s concerned because y’all have kids together, but this shit is getting out of hand.”

“Look, you knew what it was when we got together. I was honest with you, and I told you that me and Arthur had a rocky and complicated history,” Najé huffed.

“No, you said that getting support from him was like pulling teeth, to which I replied that that wasn’t something you needed to worry about as long as you were with me. You said he barely came around! This nigga is at my house damn near every other day. I didn’t sign up for this shit, and I feel like you’re playing with me. If you want to be with your kids’ father, I get it, but you won’t lie in my bed, spending my money but fucking him. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Najé.”

Najé sucked her teeth and tried to push past Julius, but he grabbed her by the arm, “Ain’t nobody fucking no Arthur. He came to get his kids for the weekend, that’s it. And I don’t hafta explain myself to you. Either you trust me or you don’t.” When she locked eyes with him, she saw something that she had never seen before: hatred, fear, pain.

“You think I’m stupid? So, you weren’t with him today while you were supposed to be at work? I didn’t see your car parked at his job today? You got me fucked up, Najé!” Julius pushed her away and attempted to go into the living room, but she jumped in front of him.

“It’s not even like that! I only went over there because his manager said he was down. Today is the anniversary of when his grandpa died, and he was close to him.”

Julius’s body tingled all over. He felt hot, and his vision was blurred on the edges. He could hear her talking, but her lies sounded foreign to his ears. He knew she was lying. He had known for weeks. Julius had tried to give Najé the benefit of the doubt, but this was too much. He took a step back from her and took a seat on the couch.

“Look, I’m not mad at you. Y’all share five kids together; we share one. I’ve tried to be a husband to you and a father to your children, and time and time again, you’ve shown me what I don’t want in a relationship. You’re a liar, you’re sneaky, and you’re going to make me hurt you if you keep playing with my emotions.” Julius buried his head in his hands and sighed deeply. “Maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe I was naïve for believing that your young ass was ready for a serious relationship. Either way, I’m done. I refuse to be your fool.” He stood and straightened out his clothes, the sting of hurt and betrayal turning over in his gut like rotten food.

“So, the first sign of trouble and you just give up on us? What kind of man are you? I got six kids to feed, and you’re going to just up and leave me like this?”

“Five,” Julius said, moving past Najé.

“What?”

“Five. You have five kids to feed. Junior is coming with me.” His statement was capped in baritone finality.

“You ain’t leaving me, and you’re not taking my baby from me!”

“Bitch, you’re crazy. The sun won’t set on my black ass in this house again. You and that broke-ass drunk are the perfect pair, and y’all deserve each other.” Julius laughed, trying to mask his emotional damage, but his laugh was cut short as the palm of Najé’s hand connected with his face. The sting was immediate and piercing.

They both stopped, frozen in disbelief. Najé took a few steps back and folded her arms defiantly, daring Julius to retaliate.

“I know you’ve lost your entire mind, putting your hands on me. Is this what we’ve come to, Najé?”

“You said you were gonna hurt me? Come on, Julius, wit’ yo’ bad ass!” Najé was moving backward toward the kitchen as she was talking, taunting him. As soon as Julius advanced forward, she pulled a knife from the dish rack. “I will kill your black ass tonight if you put your hands on me, Julius Gage, and I ain’t bullshitting.”

“You’re pulling a knife on me? I must be from Missouri, bitch, because you’re going to have to show me!” Julius lunged at her, landing a wicked left hook across her jaw.

She swiped at him with the butcher’s knife but missed. Julius didn’t miss. His second punch landed square on her chin, and she crumpled to the floor like dirty laundry.

Julius, Jr. heard the scuffle and descended the stairs. His heart thumped beneath the shirt of his Flintstone pajamas, and his tiny legs trembled as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. His father was standing over his mother’s body, holding the butcher’s knife. Najé’s arms were raised in defense. She looked toward the door and saw her baby boy standing in the doorway.

Julius, Jr.’s small, eight-year-old voice squeaked as he begged, “Daddy, please don’t!” He touched his father’s hand and stared up into his eyes. “Please.”

Najé seized the vulnerable moment between father and son as an opportunity. “Come to Mama, baby. I won’t let him hurt us.” She was talking to Julius, Jr., but her eyes were trained on her husband.

Julius, Jr. crossed the kitchen and sat in his mother’s lap. Najé cradled his head against her bosom, then addressed Julius Sr. “What you gonna do? Kill me in front of our son?” Her voice was seething with sarcasm and contempt.

Julius, Sr. looked at his son, then at his wife, and back to his son again. He silently cursed himself for allowing his boy to witness him fighting with his mother. He remembered the hatred he felt when he was not much older than Junior and witnessed his own father abusing his mother. Now, here he was, doing the exact same thing.

“Junior, kiss your mother goodbye. We’re leaving,” he said. He was still angry, and, in his mind, it was a good thing that his son had walked in and made him call his mind back, because he was just about to gut her like a fish.

He took his son’s hand and led him back upstairs to his bedroom. He went into the closet and pulled out a small suitcase. “Grab some clothes. Make sure you get undies and socks,” Julius said, but he was going from drawer to drawer, grabbing the things himself.

“Where are we going, Daddy?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe we’ll go to Texas, see your Uncle Charles and Aunt Pearly. What you think?”

Junior tried to smile because he loved his uncle and aunt, but the thought of leaving his mother made his stomach turn.

“Look, son, I know this is going to be hard, but it’s for the best,” he said, running his hand across the top of his son’s head.

Najé appeared and leaned against the door frame. The tip of her Benson and Hedges cigarette glowed bright, volcanic orange as she puffed. She tilted her head back and pursed her lips, blowing out ringlets of greyish white smoke. “I’m not going to fight you on this, Julius. You just make sure you take care of my baby.”

Julius turned to look at her, but he didn’t speak, just nodded. “You can help him pack if you want to. I’ll go make a few phone calls and put some things in motion.” He didn’t wait for an answer before sliding past her and into the bowels of his house.

Najé sat on the bed and pulled Julius, Jr. close to her. “I’m sorry that you had to see that. I’m sorry for all of this. I hope you know that I love you very much, and one day we will be together again.”

“I know, Mama.”

She hugged him, and he could feel her hot tears soaking through his shirt.

“Don’t cry, Mama. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let’s get you packed.”

Julius, Sr. dialed his brother’s number and waited as the phone rang.

“Hello,” Charlie answered.

“What’s up, youngsta?” Julius said into the receiver. His voice was still tight with anger but softened upon hearing his little brother’s voice.

“What up, old school?”

“Me and Junior are heading your way. You think you can put us up for a few days while I try to figure some things out?” Julius asked.

“You know you don’t have to ask me no shit like that. What’s going on?”

“Just life. Trick niggas and scandalous hos. You know how the game goes.”

“Man, that seems to be some international shit. It’s suckers and hos ’round every corner. Dig, baby, you can stay with us long as you need.”

“I appreciate you, baby brother. We should be there late tomorrow or early the next morning. I’ll keep you posted.”

Julius hung up the phone and went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He stepped out onto the back porch and lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke pour through his nostrils like a mad bull. Katydids and crickets chirped their songs, and the lights of fireflies blinked on and off like tiny beacons against the night sky. How had it come to this? He loved Najé and had given her what he believed to be the best of himself. He had left the streets alone, a requirement of hers that he had accepted and followed without question. He worked a regular job he hated, and he brought home his paychecks to care for her and the children. He knew plenty of men who worked at the plant with him who got paid on Fridays, and their wives didn’t see them until they had either drunk or gambled all their money away. What could she possibly see in them that she couldn’t see in him?

He took another long drag from his cigarette and held it. The screen door squeaked open, and Najé came out holding two cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry,” she said, handing him a cup. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

Julius put his nose close to the cup and inhaled deeply. Just the aroma of the strong black coffee made him feel invincible, like he could walk to Texas if necessary. “Yeah, me too. I don’t want to be enemies, baby girl. Especially for Junior’s sake. I guess I just don’t understand how you could ruin our family for somebody that’s always treated you and the kids like shit.”

Najé’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she shook her head as if trying to expel her demons. “I don’t know. Just weak, I guess. I knew it was wrong. I mean, I knew he was running game, and I went there anyway. He made me feel so guilty, telling me how I was trying to make his kids forget about him and how I was trying to replace him with you. The more he talked, the more I felt bad for him. One thing led to another, and …” Najé let her words trail off. There was no need to say the rest because what was understood didn’t need to be said. She had broken their bond, and it could never be repaired.

“Just promise me that you won’t keep my chocolate drop away from me, Julius. He’s my last baby, and I want to be a part of his life.”

Najé had begun to cry, and as angry as he was at her for violating the sanctity of their marriage, he still loved her. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I will never keep him from you. That’s my word. You can see him whenever you’re ready. Our problems have nothing to do with our son.”

“Hey, wake up, Junior.” Julius nudged his son gently. “You hungry?”

The boy groggily shook his head. “Where we at, Daddy? Are we in Texas yet?” he asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Not yet. We should be there in a few hours, but right now, I’m starving, and I need a cup of coffee. What do you want to eat?”

Without waiting for a response, Julius exited the highway and pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot. He killed the engine and looked at his mini-me, who had the largest grin plastered across his small, round, chocolate face.

“See, I know what you want before you know what you want.”

As they crossed the parking lot, Junior grabbed his father’s hand.

“You don’t think you’re too big to be holding my hand?” he asked, smiling down on his boy.

“Nope. Maybe when I’m ten. Double digits mean changes.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“If you say so, then I have no choice but to believe you.” He opened the door and ushered Junior inside. After a moment of staring at the menu, Julius nudged him forward. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Welcome to McDonald’s. May I take your order?”

“We will have two pancake platters. I want orange juice, and my daddy wants coffee.” Junior turned to his father for approval before turning back to the freckle-faced cashier.

“That’s two pancake platters, a small OJ, and a cup of coffee. Will there be anything else?”

“No, that will do it,” Julius said, handing Junior some money. “Make sure you get the change. I gotta use the bathroom.”

By the time Julius emerged from the bathroom, Junior had gotten their food and was in the process of setting up the table with plastic knives, forks, and napkins. He had deliberately chosen a booth that overlooked the entire restaurant, because he knew that’s the way his father liked it. Whenever they went out to eat as a family, his father never sat with his back facing the door.

“Is this okay, Daddy?”

“Just the way I like it. You did good, Junior.”

Julius cut Junior’s pancakes into bite-sized squares and then cut his own. “Is it okay if we talk while we eat?” he asked.

Junior shrugged his shoulders and then, as an afterthought, added, “As long as you don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“I know all of this came kind of fast, us leaving and everything, but I need you to know it’s for the best. Best for both of us. I know you love your mother. I do too, but when the spirit tells you to move, you gotta move, Junior. Do you understand?”

Junior held up a finger, as if asking his father to wait while he chewed a bite of food. Then, after he swallowed, he said, “I kinda understand. You and Mama haven’t been getting along and be arguing all the time, so it’s best to move before something bad happens.”

“I would never hurt your mother. You need to know that,” Julius said as he cut a piece of the sausage patty that came with the platter. He looked up at Junior, who was staring at him with a look that he couldn’t define. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Another shoulder shrug.

“Say what’s on your mind, son. You never have to be afraid to talk to me.”

“You say you won’t hurt Mama, but …” His voice trailed off, and he stuffed a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.

But he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Julius knew what the boy wanted to say: you say you wouldn’t hurt Mama, but just last night you were standing over her with a knife. Julius could feel his chest tightening at the horror that his son must have felt seeing him standing over her that way.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, son. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me like that. You accept my apology?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, we need to finish up and get back on the road. You need to try to pee before we leave because I’m not stopping again until we get there, capisce?”

It was almost noon when they pulled up in front of a small, two-story wood-frame house on Pine Street. Julius blew the horn, and his brother came outside. Charlie was younger, but it was amazing how much the two looked alike. Julius was five feet eleven inches, about 225 pounds, dark-skinned, with strong features and graying hair. Charlie Boy was exactly the same, but his hair was not graying, and he weighed about 185 pounds on a boxer’s frame.

“Ju, what’s up, bruh?” Charlie said.

“Not a thang, Charlie Boy. Just ready for a fresh start, you know? I’m ready to put this bullshit behind me and get on with me and my son’s life.”

“Yeah, I hear that shit. But listen, I got some top-notch playas I want you to meet. Some connected niggas.”

“Charlie, you know I straightened my life out and gave it to the Lord, and I am not trying to get caught up in my old earthly ways,” Julius said.

“Yeah, nigga, I hear you talking, but you still got to feed that youngster, and the last I heard, Jesus wasn’t givin’ no credit.”

They laughed like it was an old inside joke, but Junior didn’t find it funny. He was tired, and it seemed like they had ridden forever. He would go to sleep to wake up and see lights, go to sleep, wake up to take a piss, go to sleep, wake up to see trees, and finally, they had pulled into their destination in his father’s new Ford LTD. It was a dream car: cream yellow with a peanut butter rag top, crystal clear windows, and peanut butter suede interior. Julius Sr. was proud to drive it, and Junior was proud to ride in it. Now that they were finally there, all Junior wanted to do was go to sleep and start fresh tomorrow.

Uncle Charlie Boy didn’t have kids, but he did have a wife, Aunt Pearl, who was the spitting image of Pam Grier. She was Junior’s favorite aunt because she reminded him of his mother. Plus, she never seemed to run out of money, and she loved to spend it on her Ju Ju Bean, as she called him.

When Aunt Pearl saw Junior’s face, she lit up like a Christmas tree. She ran out to the car, grabbed him, kissed him, and hugged him like she hadn’t seen him forever. Truth was, she had just seen him last summer when he spent summer vacation with her and Charlie Boy.

He noticed that his aunt and uncle didn’t work regular jobs. They only sold grass, and late at night, people would come by to buy beer and whiskey. But they never got up and went to work like normal people. Junior was still trying to figure out why grownups would spend money on bags of grass. His uncle and aunt seemed to make a lot of money selling grass in bags. They called it reefer, but it looked like grass to him. Well, grass was evidently good business, he thought, because Uncle Charlie Boy drove a new Cadillac.

He would catch his uncle and aunt fighting sometimes, but never too seriously, like his mother and father’s fights. They used to argue about small things, like why Auntie Pearl let Ju Ju stay up so late, and why Uncle Charlie used to talk to Ju Ju about guns. It was like the only time they argued at all was when he was around, because all of the arguments seemed to surround him.

Aunt Pearl had to be a special lady because she knew everyone. “Hey, Pearl baby. Hey, Pearly. Hey, sweetie,” people would say. No matter where she went, people spoke to Aunt Pearl, and even when she was angry, she managed a smile and a polite “hey, sugar” right back in their direction.

Now he could see Aunt Pearl every day, and it was still summer, so school didn’t start for a while. Pearl always made sure Junior’s bath water was just right. It always smelled like cherry bubbles. That night, Junior was sitting in the tub, playing with bubbles. He could hear people talking. It sounded like his father and uncle, along with other voices in the living room.

“Listen, Big Julius, you can work for us running the joint. We’ll pay yo. . .