STAY THE COURSE  CH. 1

STAY THE COURSE

R.E. ANTCZAK

Chapter One

Word on the street was that Joe Hayes was dead. If I had any doubts, Joe's name etched in a block of granite, left no question. What did leave questions was the buzz about how Joe 'got dead'. He'd been found with enough smack in his veins to send him on a one-way rocket ride to Saturn. And, on his persons, cops found enough stash to boost him all the way to the edge of the universe.

Problem was, Joe didn't do smack, or any drugs. He was the finest Christian I'd known; faithful to his church, ran an outreach center on Rocktown's poor side, tried to get punks like me off the streets, win 'em to Christ.

“Nick Matthews...”

The voice came from behind me. I knew who it was. Muttering a quick prayer, I turned, fully expecting to be staring down the business end of a Glock.

Devon Chick stood slumped against an oak about twenty yards away. The sky was black, but clear, so there was enough moonlight for me to catch the toothpick rolling across his greasy face. He looked exactly as I remembered; hair slicked back, broad shouldered, tall, and wiry. He was even wearing the same kind of knock-off Italian threads that he'd run in back in the day; like he was some prominent player in Rocktown's underworld instead of what he was- a low-life street thug.

He wasn't pointing a piece, not yet. His hands were shoved in his jacket, casual like, and I knew why. A couple of his cronies were hanging back to my right. To my left, shadows moved. Chick had me. Guess he planned on having some fun before he put a bullet in my gut. I had no disillusion about either, both would hurt, the former probably worse.

“When RJ told me he seen you come in here I thought all that Jolly Green finally fried his mind. I mean, a Ratchet showing his face this side of Montague, and alone....” The shadows to my left laughed cold and mean. Chick said, “I knew you always considered yourself some kind of tough guy, but I never figured you for stupid.”

“It's been five years Chick. I don't work for Ratchet anymore. I'm done with all that. I'm out.”

   Chick frowned, said, “Come on, Matthews, you know better than that. Play the game, you're in for life. There is no out...” Still working the pick, he grinned, said, “Well, there is one way....” He didn't come off the tree, just stared like a bloodthirsty hound. Guess he was savoring the moment. I didn't mind. The second he raised up, they'd be on me. Even with a six' three physique, tattooed with scars from street brawls and strength forged in the daily heat of the prison yard gym, I couldn't take them all. Maybe I'd get in a few good licks, take out one or two but then there'd be a bat to the back of my head, a blade to the ribs or a bullet to my chest. And that'd be that.

The Bible says in Hebrews-It's appointed unto men once to die and after that the judgment. I'm ok with judgment. My sins are covered by the blood of Christ and so I'm no longer under condemnation, meaning no judgment. I'm also not afraid to die. Why should I be. To live is Christ and to die is gain. That's what Paul said, and I believe it. But I didn't want to go out like this. This wasn't me, not anymore. I was a new creature in Christ, a Christian, and I wasn't ashamed to say so.      

“I am out, Chick. I don't follow Ratchet, or any man anymore, only Christ. I got saved two years ago. I'm a Christian now. I'm not looking for trouble. I'm just visiting...,” I nodded to the grave marker, “...a friend.”

The pick in Chick’s mouth went slack. I could see it in his eyes- deciding if I was legit or playing some kind of angle. He must have concluded I was serious because his face suddenly lit up like a 2000-watt floodlight and his toothpick took off full stride. “Man, this is too rich! You’re telling me that Ratchet’s number one banger gets sent to the joint and comes out all religious! A Jesus freak- all saved and sanctified. Does Ratchet know about this? Tell me he knows about this.” Chick didn't wait for a response, “Nah, no way. If he did you wouldn't be standing here right now.” He shook his head, said, “I almost got a mind to let you go. Let Ratchet deal with you. Then again...” He spit his pick, and his eyes dimmed dark as death, “...I wouldn't be there to see it and what fun would that be?” His hands left his pockets, and he rose up off the tree. And just like I knew they would, they came at me, weapons and all.

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