EXCERPT - SOME ANIMALS
From Chapter 2... Jacob Meets Franklin
Excerpt from Chapter 2 of SOME ANIMALS, now available on Amazon.
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After I nodded to Heather, I continued on my way. I opened the book to read it for a second time; there were sections I thought I should examine more closely, but before I could, a hand snaked out and knocked the book out of my hands.
“The fuck you doin’, rim?”
I recognized the voice and the group of boys before me. I’ve seen them around. The young man who spoke was named Franklin. He was maybe twenty, of mixed race, and had many tattoos and piercings. I believe his heritage to be Columbian, Asian, and Caucasian. Most of the boys with him were of various racial mixtures, too. He and his friends wore kerchiefs adorned with the letters “AK,” which I’ve understood to stand for Angel Kings. They were part of a local gang.
“Hello,” I said. “I am going home.”
“You walk this street, you either buying or selling,” Franklin said. “You buyin’?”
“Buying what?”
They all laughed when I asked that. They’d been recording me with their smart phones, and they replayed my comment in a 3D projection. They found viewing my comment on loop to be of continuous amusement. One of them, whom I’ve heard called Crank, piped in.
“Skinjobs say just no to drugs.”
They all giggled at that. I noted my book on the sidewalk, so I leaned down to pick it up. Before I could, however, Franklin kicked it a few feet away. I smiled politely at him and moved over to pick it up again. Another one of the boys kicked it further away. We played this game for a few more minutes; then I realized that they were going to do this until the end of time, so I stopped.
“May I have my book back, please?”
“Why you even got somethin’ old like this here book, anyway? Who even reads on paper these days?” Franklin asked.
“My Primary recommended it.”
“Your Primary recommended it?”
“Yes. She said there’s a tactile sensation from a book that is unlike an e-reader. Don’t kick the book, please; it’s not my property. It’s from the public library archives.”
Crank very deliberately kicked the book over to Franklin. Franklin stamped on it and left his foot there.
“Property. Like you, right? You property, too, right?”
“Yes. May I have the book back, please?”
“Skins is valuable,” Crank said. “We take him, turn his ass out. Make mad bank.”
“Should we do that, rim?” Franklin asked me. “Since you’re property and all that?”
“No, you should not do that. I would be forced to call 911.”
“Think we afraid of the police, skin?”
“Why would you be afraid of the police? They protect and serve.”
They all laughed hard at that, very hard. I found it quite confusing. Franklin picked up my book and held it.
“Nah, we ain’t swiping him, see that tag on the back of his neck?” Franklin pointed at me. “That label there? Skinjobs is all tagged an’ it’s a real bitch to dig out. Besides, I don’t even wanna touch him. Makes me sick even thinking about it.”
He tossed me my book. I caught it.
“Get out of here, rim. This hood is for real peoples, not you, so piss off.”
They turned their backs to me, going back to whatever business they were doing before I came across them. I looked at the book in my hand. A thought occurred to me, spurred by the story I’d just read. It was a thought that came in the form of a question. I decided to collect more data to see what I could discover.
“May I ask you a question?”
They all looked back at me, smirks fixed on every face.
“What?”
“Why do I anger you so?”
Franklin stared at me for the briefest of moments, and then his fist lashed out. He struck me hard against my nose, and I saw stars, as it’s said in many television shows and novels. But that’s exactly how it seemed, as though fireworks had been lit inside my mind. I was dizzy and nauseous immediately. I touched my nose and saw the bright green blood all over my fingers. I was bleeding profusely.
“There’s your answer, boy,” Franklin said.
He and his friends strolled away. I did my best to stem the blood flow, but the green fluid stained my shirt, and some got on the book, too. I wasn’t dizzy any longer, but something seemed a bit off in my head from the trauma. I am certain this blow triggered the malfunction in my operating system that led to me being a witness to a murder. After this is all over, in fact, I should definitely get a maintenance check.
