Dead and Stinkin'

This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

© 2010 Augustus Publishing, Inc.

ISBN: 9781935883265

All stories by Stephen M. Hewett ©2005 Stephen M. Hewett ©2006 Stephen M. Hewett

Novel by Stephen Hewett

Foreword by Anthony Whyte

Edited by Anthony Whyte

Creative Direction &

Photography by Jason Claiborne

All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For further information contact Augustus Publishing

Augustus Publishing paperback July 2010

www.augustuspublishing.com

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prelude to a Tale

Foreword

Preface

Honor Thy Mother and Father

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Epilogue

Introduction

Until Death do us Part

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

Epilogue

Hell Comin’ from Harlem

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

About the author

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

It’s amazing how we are able to find strength in the darkest places and from the most heart aching situations. My strength, courage and inspiration to write this story and the ones to follow came from the unyielding stress of my incarceration. A portion of this dedication goes out to the people who helped nurture that stress. This goes out to the women in my life who abandoned me shortly after my incarceration. Thank you for those stressful, insensitive and sometimes cruel letters, or better yet, thanks for not writing at all. Thanks to all my associates who had long chips but chose not to put a dime in my commissary. Good looking out, goes to all those fake jokers in my life. I wholeheartedly thank you for the sorrow you caused me that eventually turned into strength for me.

Putting the last remaining bitterness aside, I would now like to thank the troopers in my life. Big up to my brother Paul, and my partner Shack, who held me down from start to finish. Excess amount of honor is due to my Mother, Aunt and beloved Grandmother who never left my side an inch.

To my children whose letters and visits kept a little warmth in an otherwise ice-cold heart, I say thank you my babies. To each and every soul who contributed, be it negatively or positively in the creation of the Author that I’ve become, I sincerely say, Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without your help.

Shout out to all the readers, thanks for supporting. Special thanks to the Augustus Manuscript Team, Tamiko Maldonado, Jason Claiborne, Juliet White, Anthony Whyte. The dream team, great work!

Prelude to a Tale

Many stories have been written, some with tragedy, humor or sex.

History has bought us a variety, from war and peace to Oedipus Rex.

The Author of this literary work is no well-bred Ivy League scholar;

He’s just your average inner-city brother, who use to hustle for a dishonest dollar.

Everyday new books are written, about thug life, hustling and jails;

So it dawned on me one day, why not revise some classical tales.

The inspiration for these stories comes from ancient, mythological fiction.

The themes and plots are timeless, but written in our modern day diction.

I may never join the ranks with Authors like Goines, Angelou or Hughes;

But like those respected black Authors, I have certainly paid my dues.

There are messages in every chapter; I hope most will decipher my flow;

It’s been written for a higher purpose, but I could definitely use the dough.

FOREWORD

ANTHONY WHYTE

God knows I’m a Voodoo Child

I didn’t mean to take up all your sweet time,

I’ll give it back one of these days

Song: Voodoo Chile, Jimi Hendrix

Supernatural or magic, the belief in the unknown, superstitions and folklore are like bootleg videos in the hood—every culture has one. Or you know someone who goes through daily rituals, you might consider strange, and not even understand. My mother, Violet Wade, was a Seventh Day church of God, Christian. On Saturdays she attended services religiously. She even had me going for awhile. Cooking was forbidden on Fridays after sundown until sundown Saturdays. Also prohibited was the eating of certain flesh, such as the swine and certain seafood— These foods were considered part of the devil and eating or partaking of them in any form was believe to bring Satan into your mind. Through eating these types of meats, the soul of the killed animal would penetrate through your intestines and into the mind via the body. Is it a superstition or real? It really doesn’t because I still don’t eat pork, and certain flesh. My mother went to high school in Jamaica, I’m a college grad. Superstitions is not based on education level, it is based on the culture you were raised in.

Ritual has nothing to do with one’s career. I know this older Italian, a former hit man in the streets, who makes the sign of the cross twice daily and attends church weekly, periodically confessing his sins. He said his family has always attended Catholic Church. He’s a gangster, go figure. Beliefs have nothing to do with age. Another friend, a young drug dealer, Spanish, and although he doesn’t attend church, he makes the sign of the cross whenever he goes by a church building. His frontin’ perplexed me to the point I had to ask him why. He told me that it was the way he was brought up, not to disrespect the church. A building he won’t even go in…? I laughed so hard I had to get serve by some other dealer. Then he swore using the name of Jesus and kissing his Lazarus piece dangling from his neck. Dominicans…?

I know several Jamaicans who practice the secretive art of Obeah. Then of course Haiti is known for all its diverse worshiping of voodoo and there is such an incredible array of angels and talismans, it would take a whole book on the subject. Santaria is well known amongst the Taino’s of Puerto Rican.

All the Afrikans walking the streets of the cities practice some form of voodoo and their culture encourages beliefs in the unknown. Same for the Irish Americans and others practicing of the art of wicker. Few can forget the great witch-hunts across America. I called these out because they are the easiest to pick on. At this time someone you know is doing some form or the other of them, and depending on the focus it could be good… Or it could be evil, like putting you in a pine box, leaving you…DEAD AND STINKIN’

Curl up under your safety blanket of courage and I bid you welcome to the tantalizing, and very strange world of this form of storytelling. Here is an eclectic collection of stories that will not only entertain but will become part of our folklore, told by Mr. Stephen Hewett.

Preface

YO, CHECK THIS OUT!

It was once said that a man must honor his father and mother. It was also said that eventually a man must leave his father and mother, and take a wife for his own. For all intent and purposes, this is the normal order of things. But every now and then, in this case the natural order becomes the unnatural disorder.

On that rare occasion, all things that we think should be— really shouldn’t be. Things that feel oh so right, in reality, can be terribly wrong. In our search for the right answers, we might just find ourselves confronted with more questions. When faced with an unnatural disorder of events, how can one get things back on track? Hell, maybe all the chaos and turmoil in a person’s life was supposed to happen. Who knows…? Damn! I said too much already… Just read on…

HONOR THY MOTHER AND FATHER

Chapter 01

The couple arrived at the doctor’s office one hour before their appointment. They were so anxious they couldn’t wait any longer. Sitting outside the waiting area, Jackie and Larry Anderson were both becoming a vast bundle of nerves.

Girl, you better sit your butt down! You buggin’ out ain’t gonna get us the results any quicker, Larry said, casually eyeing his wife.

Jackie looked at her husband, sighed loudly, slowly rolled her eyes, and pursed her lips. Sucking her teeth and dismissing his comment, she stared at him and spoke.

Listen, Larry, this is my first pregnancy, okay? Believe me when I say that I’m crazy nervous. So Larry please let me just do me. Okay…? Thank you, Jackie said, shooting daggers with her cold stare.

He wasn’t expecting such a fierce response and tried to avoid staring into Jackie’s angry face. Their showdown was interrupted by a nurse at the reception desk.

The doctor will see you now, she said.

Larry rose and offered a hand to his wife. She smiled in acceptance, and with Larry’s support, they both walked into the doctor’s private office.

I can’t believe it, baby, we’re gonna be parents, Larry said, smiling at his wife.

Believe me when I say that I can believe it, Jackie said, feigning a smile at first.

Happiness was welling up inside her and Jackie let what she was truly feeling shine through in her smile. The loving couple was holding hands walking out of the doctor’s office. Approaching their car, Larry glanced lovingly at his wife’s face. From the smile on his face, Jackie could tell he was in a real happy mood.

Jackie, why don’t we celebrate? C’mon hon, we haven’t been to Coney Island in years. I think we deserve a little we time together, just the three of us, Larry said, gently touching his wife’s belly.

Larry smile beamed, making him look like the hands down winner in proudest dad in the world competition. Jackie stared on torn between admiration and secretly wishing that he was the one carrying the baby.

Larry and Jackie Anderson lived in Brooklyn, New York. They had been childhood sweethearts who had been married for eight years. The couple had a loving relationship and their marriage was still going strong. Larry worked part-time as a mechanic and Jackie was a homecare attendant. Between the bills and Jackie’s student loans, they had to stay on a tight budget. Unfortunately their salaries didn’t allow for much leisure time, but they managed to make the best of what they had been blessed with. But Coney Island could prove expensive and Jackie already felt exhausted from the doctor’s visit.

Baby, can we afford it? We need to save all we can before our little angel gets here, Jackie warned her enthusiastic husband, all the while searching her wallet.

Don’t sweat that. I got this. I’m taking my baby moms out tonight. Let’s roll, cutie, Larry smiled, opening the passenger door for a surprised Jackie.

Getting in the car, she was glowing and planted a soft kiss on her husband’s cheek. She delivered a kiss so sweet it was like the very first time their lips ever meet.

What’s that for, Jackie? he sighed.

Just because I love you, Larry… And for giving me the best gift anyone could ever give me, she smiled, rubbing her protruding stomach.

On this warm August afternoon, Coney Island was jam packed with revelers and tourists. School was about to reopen in two weeks, and the kids were going in for their last swing of summertime fun. Jackie and Larry walked along the boardwalk. The couple was in high spirits, and totally engulfed in each other while enjoying their blessing. Despite her reluctance at first, Jackie relaxed and was having fun laughing and singing. The fun rides at this popular summer haunt brought back childhood memories.

Screaming loudly, they rode the Cyclone Rollercoaster and the Wonder wheel. Hugging and smooching like young kids, they wandered through the Aquarium and Museum. Larry hugged his wife like a schoolboy on a hot date. Then the loving couple played a bunch of games of Chance. It shaped up to be a wonderful evening to be in the park. Jackie smiled and returned her husband’s kiss with fervor. It was her way of thanking him for another beautiful idea. Larry won a few stuffed animals for his unborn baby and her, Jackie laughed and cheered. The happiest couple in Coney Island shared two Nathan’s world’s famous hot dogs for dinner.

Make mine with a lot of relish, Jackie smiled.

Here, baby, be careful, they’re kind a hot, Larry said, handing Jackie her hotdog.

The couple was walking along the boardwalk, when Jackie suddenly shouted, Larry did you just split that pole?

Larry looked back quickly before saying, Oh snap! I must be buggin’. My bad…

He ran back and walked thrice around the pole he just split. The couple were deathly superstitious. Their obsession was something they both knew they had in common since high school.

On their way to the exit that led to the parking lot, Larry and Jackie passed a booth with a man dressed peculiarly in a long red robe with gold letters standing in front of it. The sign on the booth read, Tarot card readings and fortune telling. The old man smiled at the couple.

Have your palms read, my friends. Or perhaps, consult the cards to discover your destiny, learn of your future.

Oh, baby, let’s do it. I haven’t had a reading in months, Jackie said with anxiety. Let’s find out about our baby. Come on, boo, let’s go inside, Jackie said, grabbing Larry’s hand, and practically dragging him into the booth.

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