IBO by Brian R. Lundin (the best books of all time .txt) 📕

Stuttgart had grown, there were clothing stores, antique shops and a Mc Donald’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant on the main street, named Main Street. A Wal-Mart was also being built on a vacant lot on the street, which ran for three blocks. There was an interracial couple and two men walking down Main Street holding hands. Reginald turned off Main Street and onto Confederate Drive, the residential and affluent neighborhood where there were still some of the Tudor-style mansions that sat behind circular driveways of spotless white paver stones. These houses were probably, years ago, maintained by slaves he thought. As he walked, he noticed the manicured lawns surrounding houses the size of apartment building. Many of them were surrounded by tall hedges, which looked as if they were cut and trimmed each morning. He wondered what kind of work the owners did to be able to afford the maintenance on such large houses.
Reggie turned onto Wilson Avenue, the main road leading out of town. Wilson Avenue was where the black nightclubs and taverns were located. There were a few houses or shacks on Wilson Avenue that contained black families, but mainly the street was deserted. For some unknown reason as soon as he turned the corner he felt threatened, he did not see anyone on the street but Wilson Avenue was starting to come alive. Wilson Avenue was the complete opposite of Confederate Drive. The houses were small and unkempt and there were patches of grass on the lawns, but mainly the lawns were dirt. As he passed one of the houses, an older black woman, perhaps in her late forties, was sitting on the porch. She was attractive, dark skinned with long straight black hair and a trim figure. She wore a lot of makeup on her face, but she still looked worn and tired and her eyes had that dazed look of someone who did a lot of drinking. Reginald could see that she could had been considered very attractive at one time, but she was quickly going into that stage of a woman life where she believed that old age was robbing her of her beauty-even if it was not. She wore a short red dress that showed off her taut legs and thighs. She watched him and gave him a sly smile as he passed and opened her legs exposing her lower unclothed body. Reginald had heard that there were prostitutes on Wilson Avenue and he wondered if she was one. Reginald quickly turned his head and looked straight ahead. Continuing down Wilson Avenue Reginald heard the blues music and the loud laughter and talking coming from Sarge’s Blues Club. A large neon sign was dug into the ground and advertised down-home blues and bar-b-que pig feet and ribs. There were many black nightclubs and taverns on this strip of Wilson Avenue and it was where most of the blacks spent their weekend evenings partying or playing cards or shooting dice in the back rooms. On occasion, a few whites would come to the black clubs to hear the music, which was primarily blues. Reginald had never walked on Wilson Avenue before. His school bus stopped briefly on the street to pick up a few black high school students and he had been driven pass there on his way home or to his grandparents house, but this was his first visit on foot.
After about two blocks, he noticed cars parking in Sarge's parking lot and the men and women going into the club. He also noticed a young black man approaching cars entering the parking lot, giving something to the drivers of the cars who left the lot or went inside, the young man then would disappear back into the darkness of the parking lot. Reginald continued walking down the street, when he was approaching Sarge’s parking lot four young black men came out of the darkness.

“What do you want white boy, some blow or lady-killer?” (Crack cocaine) someone asked, Reginald shook his head and continued walking.
He looked back into the parking lot and did not see anyone and he felt relieved. Suddenly, the four men were in front of him, blocking the sidewalk. Reginald stopped and fought the urge to turn and run.
“What are you doing down here white boy, lost,” a threatening voice in the crowd said.
Reginald began to feel the fear, his mouth all of a sudden was dry, and he could feel his heart beating faster.
“I’m going home,” Reginald replied weakly to the unknown speaker.
Reginald started to walk towards the crowd of young men, as he approached them he hoped he would see a face that he knew, a classmate anyone, but he did not. The young men looked older than he did and they were all wearing red baseball caps and red shirts. Reginald remembers hearing at school that a street gang from Little Rock had moved into Stuttgart and their colors was red. Surprisingly when Reginald got to the group of men, they let him pass. Reginald let out a sigh of relief before he felt a numbing pain in the back of his head, he felt dizzy and staggered; there was another sharp pain on his left side. Reginald tried to scream out, to call for help but his words faded into the darkness. He tried to slow down his racing heart, tried to find some kind of strength inside the panic. Another blow sent him to the ground. Reginald could hear the music coming from Sarge’s and people laughing and talking. Turning his face towards the parking lot, he saw a man and a woman getting out of their car.
“ I’m here help me,” his mind screamed.
”Help me,” Reginald screamed fixing his sight on the man and the woman.
While Reginald watched in agony, the couple entered the club. As the pain intensified, Reginald lost consciousness; fortunately, he did not feel the kicks and punches he received while on the ground.

Chapter 30

Chicago’s O’Hara Airport was lit up as the sleek jet circled the city waiting for permission to land. Yolanda had a window seat next to Eli Malik was sitting behind them. Yolanda looked down at the city, which also was lit up. As the plane descended, Yolanda looked down at the roadways winding around tall buildings, houses and parks.
“That’s Lake Michigan,” Eli said pointing to half frozen body of water as the plane banked east.
“That’s Chicago’s pride and joy,” Eli continued as the plane made a wide circle and headed west.
“That’s Cabrini Green, where I grew up,” Eli said pointing to the dark high-rise buildings.
“That’s White Sox ball park, I grew a few blocks from there, Malik said, pointing to the ball park.
“I have never seen so many tall buildings and highways,” Yolanda said, shaking her head in amazement.
“Yep, it’s a helluva a city,” Eli said.
Diki’s private jet landed at Chicago’s O’Hare airport; fortunately, Eli had warned Yolanda about the weather and she was dressed appropriately. She was wearing a black sable mink coat, with a matching pillbox hat, a burnt orange suede pantsuit by designer, Vera Wang, and a pair of expensive looking black leather boots. Eli looked at her as she was getting off the plane, she moved with the grace of a black panther, maybe she was the Iwa, Eli mused. The falling white flakes of snow accentuated her flawless ebony skin and for a passing moment, there appeared to be an angelic glow radiating her face, like a mystical silhouette, slowly being caressed by the gentle falling snow, she could have been a Nubian princess.
When she pulled her coat tighter, it accentuated her slender vivacious curves. Eli felt wildly drawn to her and a deep carnal hunger consumed him, he had never felt this emotion before. Eli and Yolanda hugged Malik as they left to board the helicopter that would take them to Indiana. Malik was met by Pops.
“My man how was the flight?” Pops asked giving the gang sign.
“Long but pleasant,” Malik said, returned the gang sign.
“How is business?”
“Good,” Colonel Tong and that Askido broad have been handling things.”
Pops drove Malik home, where Joyce met him.
“I’m so glad you’re back, Joyce said,” hugging Malik,”Did you have a good time?”
“Yes I did, it was very relaxing.”
“Hungry, I can make you a sandwich?”
“No I’m ok, just a little tired. Those changing time zones can get you. I’m going to bed, and we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?”
“Ok, goodnight talk to you tomorrow,” Joyce said leaving the room.
Malik thinks about his mother Barbara and his grandmother Lill, while he takes a shower. He remembered the look she gave him when he was about four years old and asked her about his father.
She told him that she had gotten pregnant with him when she was seventeen years old and his father name was Winston, and they were planning to get married, but a drive-bye shooting killed him. Malik remembered the tears starting to run down her cheeks as she was talking and he started to cry also. He remembered when he and his mother was living with his grandmother, Lill who always smelled so fresh and clean, as if she had just taken a shower with Castile soap, a popular and cheap soap, but had a very pleasant smell.
Barbara was once a good mother to Malik. He can remember her being very attentive and loving but that all changed when he was about seven years old. She was very seldom at home, but grandma Lill would make sure he was fed, bathed, and went to school.
Malik, his mother, and his Aunt Diane moved out of Robert Taylor Homes when he was eight. Grandma Lill had rented a comfortable apartment at 4916 South Forestville, a nice neighborhood of single-family homes and very few apartment buildings. The apartment was on the third floor and had three bedrooms, a dining room, a large living room, a kitchen, and two bathrooms. Lill had a bedroom, Diana had a bedroom, and Malik and Barbara shared the largest bedroom. Malik and Barbara’s bedroom had a metal clothes closet, a black and white television, a twin size bed where Barbara slept and a reclining chair where Malik slept. His uncles, Billy and Johnny, stayed mainly with their girlfriends, but when they had got put out or left they stayed with the family and slept on pallets on the living room floor. Most mornings when Malik awakened, his mother would not be at home she had started staying away more, and when she was there, he found her sprawled out on the bed, fully clothed and fast asleep. When he came home for lunch, his mother would still be asleep and when he arrived home from school, she would be gone.
One Sunday morning, he had heard loud voices coming from the kitchen between Grandma Lill, Aunt Diane and his mother.
“Barbara, you should try and spend more time with your son, he needs you, he heard Lill say to Barbara.”
“He seems sad most of the time and he spend too much time alone, he escapes in his books and he has very little interactions with other kids, and as a matter of