city.”
Des held up his hand as if to tell Nasir that he needed to say no more. Des walked over to his desk and sat down in his dark burgundy high-back leather chair. Both the chair and the high-glossed, solid cherry desk with the matching credenza were compliments of one of his associates, crafted and shipped all the way from Hong Kong. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out two Zinos cigars and handed one to his nephew. He then pulled out his white-gold engraved lighter, placed his cigar in his mouth, and put the orange-blue flame to the tip. He got up, walked over to Nasir, and lit his, too. He then took a seat in his leather chaise.
“Sit down,” he instructed Nasir. “Listen to what I’m saying and listen good.” Des pulled on his cigar, crossed one leg over the other knee, and then spoke. “See no evil and hear no evil. Never fold or faint, and ‘no, I can’t’ is always the wrong answer.”
As Des shot straight from the hip the vital rules of survival, Nasir sat like an obedient student listening to his instructor.
“It’s a lot of things you gotta watch out for—the wolves, women, fake friends, and snitches, but remember, the police are our common enemy. And for no reason whatsoever do we ever cooperate with our common enemy. I don’t give a fuck if they are torturing you for information, lie like a dog. Lie your way into something, lie your way out of something, lie on your gun, your money, your dick—but never,
ever
cooperate.”
Nasir focused his undivided attention on Des, sitting forward in his seat to make sure he didn’t miss a word that was being spoken.
“Your word must always be your bond,” Des continued, taking another puff on his cigar and waving it in the air. A cloud of smoke hovered over his head like a crown. “Always pay your debts off the front end of your money, not the back end. Never become a victim of your hustle.”
Nasir nodded, almost unable to contain his excitement: He was entering the majors.
Des continued. “If you sell drugs, don’t use them. If you pimp hos, don’t trick.”
“I feel that, Unc.” Nasir nodded as his uncle dropped jewels, trying to hide his excitement at finally being made privy to something he had wanted his entire life.
“And never let a woman come between you and your man or before your business.”
Nasir wanted to comment right there, but he didn’t because he wanted his uncle to continue to bestow his blessings. “The best-fought war is a war that you don’t have to fight, but if it has to go down…whoever shoots first usually wins.”
Nasir laughed, the cigar dangling from his mouth, but Des gave him a cold stare that took the smirk right off the younger man’s face. “Be quick to forgive, but slow to forget. And when in doubt, kill them all and let God sort them out.” Des pulled on his cigar before continuing.
“It’s never personal. If it turns out that you were wrong, take comfort in the knowledge that it’s better to be live-ass wrong than dead-ass right.”
Nasir laughed to himself at how Des was laying down the law and thought about how he would one day pass this on to his own son. He was glad that his uncle had given him such powerful pieces, and he was prepared to live or die by them.
Des got up from the chaise and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He retrieved two glasses from it and said, “These have been universal rules of the game, generation after generation, decade after decade. The rules never change—only the players. So make sure through it all you stay true to this…and to the game.”
“I will,” Nasir said, nodding with sincerity.
Des poured them both a shot of cognac. He handed Nasir his drink then raised his glass to toast. “Welcome to the major leagues, nephew.”
They clinked their glasses, and they both drank the potent brown liquor. Des promised Nasir that he would make a formal introduction to his new supplier within the next couple of days. He gave his nephew a
Des held up his hand as if to tell Nasir that he needed to say no more. Des walked over to his desk and sat down in his dark burgundy high-back leather chair. Both the chair and the high-glossed, solid cherry desk with the matching credenza were compliments of one of his associates, crafted and shipped all the way from Hong Kong. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out two Zinos cigars and handed one to his nephew. He then pulled out his white-gold engraved lighter, placed his cigar in his mouth, and put the orange-blue flame to the tip. He got up, walked over to Nasir, and lit his, too. He then took a seat in his leather chaise.
“Sit down,” he instructed Nasir. “Listen to what I’m saying and listen good.” Des pulled on his cigar, crossed one leg over the other knee, and then spoke. “See no evil and hear no evil. Never fold or faint, and ‘no, I can’t’ is always the wrong answer.”
As Des shot straight from the hip the vital rules of survival, Nasir sat like an obedient student listening to his instructor.
“It’s a lot of things you gotta watch out for—the wolves, women, fake friends, and snitches, but remember, the police are our common enemy. And for no reason whatsoever do we ever cooperate with our common enemy. I don’t give a fuck if they are torturing you for information, lie like a dog. Lie your way into something, lie your way out of something, lie on your gun, your money, your dick—but never,
ever
cooperate.”
Nasir focused his undivided attention on Des, sitting forward in his seat to make sure he didn’t miss a word that was being spoken.
“Your word must always be your bond,” Des continued, taking another puff on his cigar and waving it in the air. A cloud of smoke hovered over his head like a crown. “Always pay your debts off the front end of your money, not the back end. Never become a victim of your hustle.”
Nasir nodded, almost unable to contain his excitement: He was entering the majors.
Des continued. “If you sell drugs, don’t use them. If you pimp hos, don’t trick.”
“I feel that, Unc.” Nasir nodded as his uncle dropped jewels, trying to hide his excitement at finally being made privy to something he had wanted his entire life.
“And never let a woman come between you and your man or before your business.”
Nasir wanted to comment right there, but he didn’t because he wanted his uncle to continue to bestow his blessings. “The best-fought war is a war that you don’t have to fight, but if it has to go down…whoever shoots first usually wins.”
Nasir laughed, the cigar dangling from his mouth, but Des gave him a cold stare that took the smirk right off the younger man’s face. “Be quick to forgive, but slow to forget. And when in doubt, kill them all and let God sort them out.” Des pulled on his cigar before continuing.
“It’s never personal. If it turns out that you were wrong, take comfort in the knowledge that it’s better to be live-ass wrong than dead-ass right.”
Nasir laughed to himself at how Des was laying down the law and thought about how he would one day pass this on to his own son. He was glad that his uncle had given him such powerful pieces, and he was prepared to live or die by them.
Des got up from the chaise and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He retrieved two glasses from it and said, “These have been universal rules of the game, generation after generation, decade after decade. The rules never change—only the players. So make sure through it all you stay true to this…and to the game.”
“I will,” Nasir said, nodding with sincerity.
Des poured them both a shot of cognac. He handed Nasir his drink then raised his glass to toast. “Welcome to the major leagues, nephew.”
They clinked their glasses, and they both drank the potent brown liquor. Des promised Nasir that he would make a formal introduction to his new supplier within the next couple of days. He gave his nephew a
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