Post by The Diaz Brothers on Nov 25, 2013 16:48:12 GMT -5
Jorge runs up the steps, until he reached the 5th floor. He opens his fathers apartment door. The house has 1 bathroom, a small kitchen, a small bathroom, and an average room. Juan always keeps the lights dim. The house smells like cigars and rum. The television is on. It's tuned on the AMC channel. Zombies from 'The Walking Dead' grunt, and Juan shouts, ooh kill em, each time a zombie appears. Jorge walks into the living room. The living room is dirty with rum bottles, Newport cigarette packs, and many pizza boxes. Juan is a small 70-year old man, his head is completely bald, and he has a beer belly, he also has a full grown beard in the color of grey.
Jorge: Hey dad, you really need to tidy this joint up. It smells like culo. (culo means ass)
Juan puts down his bottle of rum, and sits up. He is obviously ticked off by Jorge's comment.
Juan: Listen, Twinkle Toes I got some shit for you ok.
Jorge: Da fuck do you mean?
Jorge stares at Juan.
Juan: Look, about 10 years ago I borrowed money from a gringo in Queens. And I want you to go and shoot 'em up.
Jorge gives Juan a fuck no look. Juan pulls out a pistol, its silver. He gives Jorge ammo, and gives him 4 clips.
Juan: Its time to become a real man.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Juan: Look, Twinkle.
Juan hands Jorge a map. The location is circled in red.
Jorge: This is where I have to go right?
Juan: No duh nigga!
Jorge: No, don't call me that alright. You are fucking lucky that I am even doing this shit!
Jorge drives up to the scene by himself, he puts the gun in his back pocket. He walks up to the man.
Jorge: Who the fuck are you and how much money you want?
Man: My name, is Mori, Mori Chellic. And 10 years without paying the debt your father owes us millions!
Jorge: How bout I work it off?
Mori calls out his men and they start a gun war. Jorge runs for cover behind his car. Bullets are being shot every where. Jorge takes his first shot and pops a tire.
Jorge: Oh FUCK!
One of the men run up and jump over the car, Jorge trips him and takes his gun. Jorge knocks him out. Jorge jumps in the car as a grenade is thrown inside the car. Jorge panics, he grabs it and throws it out, he rides off as the alley blows up.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jorge thought about Darius on the way home. He drove home, nervously...
Jorge arrives to his father Juan's apartment in the Heights. He gets out of his car and goes up to the 5th floor, where his father lives.
Jorge opened the door to Juan's apartment and walks in to the smell of smoke and rum...like always. Jorge puts his coat on the couch. He walks to the fridge and grabs a juice. He pours it into a cup. Juan walks into the room in a dirty tank top and white trunks with skid marks on them.
Jorge: I see where I got my flashlight from...
Juan: Yo, Twinkle don't look at me ok, did you get the shit done?
Jorge: Yes...
Juan: Good.
Jorge: Hey, you told me about your friend Darius. What ever happened to him?
Juan: He moved to South Carolina, started with that country shit, became famous, bullshit, bullshit.
Jorge: Wait...did you just say-
Juan cuts Jorge off, he hands Jorge a piece of paper with an address on it.
Juan: Go there, that's where he lives.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jorge took the bus to South Carolina. It was one of the weirdest shit he has ever seen. A man with a half shaven face. A woman dressed like a bum, a man devouring a box of fried chicken, a couple of people on their tablets watching a movie, kids screaming and crying, babies getting out of their seats and walking around, and that one guy who would fall out of the bathroom. Jorge just couldn't believe that he was going to a place that is nowhere near New York. The trip averaged about 5-6 hours before Jorge arrived. Jorge hitchhiked all the way to a small town called MiddleTown. When he got off of the final truck the air smelt natural, no gas or nothing. Just tree's. Jorge stood their admiring the view forgetting about Darius, he couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Behind Jorge it was a full forest of trees, in front it was a plain and a bunch of farms, and cows. Jorge walked down the plain until he found a road, it had the street Jorge was looking for. Jorge went to Darius's home. It was a typical American house. It was lime green. Jorge knocked on the door, a black man, about 64 of age, bald head, and a grey goatee, opened the door.
Darius: Howdy partner, whachu need?
Jorge: Your Darius...Rucker right?
Darius: Yes, come on in...you must be Juan's son, he told me lots 'bout chu.
Jorge walked inside behind Darius. The floors were made of wooden planks, dark brown to be exact. The walls were sky blue and the lights were average. Some stuff Juan needs to learn from this man... Darius handed Jorge a cup of coffee.
Jorge: No thanks...
Darius: Lil' boy, you better drink what I give you!
Darius signaled Jorge to follow him to the living room. On the way there he handed Jorge a piece off bread as they sat down and played some chess...
Darius pulled out a freshly baked baked pumpkin pie out of the furnace. He cut up 2 peaces for him and Jorge, he then poured milk out of a glass milk jug into two glass cups. Jorge walked around the house, looking at the furniture. It was far different from what he is used to seeing in New York. There wasn't even a television.
Jorge: What is all of this, no television, a furnace. This is some nineteenth century shit...
Darius: Look lil boy, ya'll city boys ain't know nothing 'bout contry, ok. So you gotta get used to this. Tomorrow I will teach you about the farm.
Jorge looks at Darius, he looks out the windows and see's not one farm.
Darius: I know what you gonna say, where the farm at? It's 3 miles away from here.
Jorge: Good that you have a car...
Darius: I don't use those machines, they mess with the air, my crops, so I walk the whole way there...
Jorge: Oh, fuck no man...
Darius: No more fucks, bitches, shit, ass, none of that my house ya heard. Now come eat your food!
Jorge: Yea, next thing you know dis is some fucking-
Darius throws a shoe at Jorge's face, hits him right in the eye.
Jorge: Shit!! I was gonna say nasty stuff!
Darius: You said fuck, and I told you not to, now come eat!!
Jorge walks to the table rubbing his left eye, he sits down and grabs a fork. He nervously cuts a piece of the pie off and eats it.
Jorge's eyes widen up in joy, but he quickly rubs his left eye once more. He rapidly eats the pumpkin pie, washing it all down with fresh milk. Darius looks at Jorge with amazement.
Darius: Dang boy, you just devoured that pie like a cow in a plain full of fresh green grass!!
Jorge: How do you get this so good when, your a man and you know...
Darius: Just like a woman could beat a man in a fight, any gender could do it.
Jorge: Let me get some more!! 3 more pieces! And more of this milk too!
Darius: It's good fresh milk, milked it out of a cow just yesterday!
Jorge payed no attention to what Darius said and continued eating. Dinner ended at 9:00 the time that Darius calls lights out. Jorge slept in the guest's room. The room was small but the bed was the most comfortable bed he ever slept on.
5:00 am in the morning and Darius woke Jorge up to get to the farming. But before they could go they had to eat breakfast, something Jorge rarely did in New York. For breakfast it was scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice. They finished in 30 minutes took a shower, used the bathroom, brushed their teeth, and went out the door.
Jorge and Darius walk down an old dirt road, Jorge stares around. He see's other farms far away. On Darius's farm he see's cows, chicken, sheep, horse's, and many other animals, like pigs. Darius opens the gate to the farm, and they walk in. Jorge smells animal poop all over the place. Darius takes him to a room, he pulls out a plaid, long sleeved, button down shirt in blue and red, normal jeans, brown boots, and a belt with a silver buckle saying 'MiddleTown' out of the closet. Darius made Jorge change from his sky blue WCF pajama pants, white T, and white and blue sneakers to the clothes he took out. Jorge took the clothes and got changed. Now it was time to learn. Darius took Jorge to a small shack like house, he pulled out 6 buckets, and a rope. He took Jorge over to the cows and started milking one. Jorge looked on.
Darius: You see how you do it right?
Jorge nods his head in a 'yes' manner.
Darius: Alright, come over here, go get 14 more buckets, I want you to fill 20 of them up while I go get my mail.
Jorge: Wait, where are my gloves?
Darius: Ya'll city people think to much about being sanitary ok, if you don't wanna have anything to drink tomorrow morning than ok, now let me leave.
Jorge: Wait, let me go for you.
Darius: The postal office is 5 miles from here, go get me my horse, its the white one, its called Sugarplum.
Jorge walked to Sugarplum, he put the saddle on to her, the only thing he knew to do.
Sugarplum: Neigh, neigh!!
Jorge took Sugarplum to Darius, Darius got on his horse and rode off. Jorge started milking the cows.
Jorge finished with milking the cows when Darius came back. Darius had a sad look on his face
Darius: Jorge.......I have some bad news...
Darius broke into tears, Jorge walked to him to calm him down.
Jorge: Come on Darius, its ok...
Darius: Jorge.... your father, Juan died of lung cancer......
Jorge was shocked, his body stopped moving, his lungs tightened up, his cheeks burned, and his eyes watered. Jorge started crying.
Darius gave the letter to Jorge. He told him to read it when they got home, Darius took the milk and put it in a fridge inside the shack. They walked home both in tears....slowly.
They got home, and Darius made dinner. White rice with eggs. They ate it all, and Jorge opened the letter, he read it out loud.
Jorge: Dear Jorge: By the time you read this I will be dead. All that time I spent with you in the past 2 months was because I knew I had cancer. Lung cancer for 5 years, son. I am crying right now, knowing that your going to die... it just makes you think of life. Juan Diaz born in 1943, in Dominican Republic. Moved to America at the age of 7, had a great childhood. Had 3 children, Maria, Sandra, and Jorge. Goes to war. All that stuff is stuff you take to your grave. Being a veteran is what I will take to my grave to, but most importantly. I will take you, my children to my grave. I will see your mother, Danielle again. Jorge, you can stay with Darius and live with him. Take care of my friend, and yourself. Goodbye.
Jorge broke into tears, once more. He went to his room crying and cried to sleep. Darius sat in the kitchen thinking about his best friend....... Juan Diaz.
Jorge: Hey dad, you really need to tidy this joint up. It smells like culo. (culo means ass)
Juan puts down his bottle of rum, and sits up. He is obviously ticked off by Jorge's comment.
Juan: Listen, Twinkle Toes I got some shit for you ok.
Jorge: Da fuck do you mean?
Jorge stares at Juan.
Juan: Look, about 10 years ago I borrowed money from a gringo in Queens. And I want you to go and shoot 'em up.
Jorge gives Juan a fuck no look. Juan pulls out a pistol, its silver. He gives Jorge ammo, and gives him 4 clips.
Juan: Its time to become a real man.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Juan: Look, Twinkle.
Juan hands Jorge a map. The location is circled in red.
Jorge: This is where I have to go right?
Juan: No duh nigga!
Jorge: No, don't call me that alright. You are fucking lucky that I am even doing this shit!
Jorge drives up to the scene by himself, he puts the gun in his back pocket. He walks up to the man.
Jorge: Who the fuck are you and how much money you want?
Man: My name, is Mori, Mori Chellic. And 10 years without paying the debt your father owes us millions!
Jorge: How bout I work it off?
Mori calls out his men and they start a gun war. Jorge runs for cover behind his car. Bullets are being shot every where. Jorge takes his first shot and pops a tire.
Jorge: Oh FUCK!
One of the men run up and jump over the car, Jorge trips him and takes his gun. Jorge knocks him out. Jorge jumps in the car as a grenade is thrown inside the car. Jorge panics, he grabs it and throws it out, he rides off as the alley blows up.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jorge thought about Darius on the way home. He drove home, nervously...
Jorge arrives to his father Juan's apartment in the Heights. He gets out of his car and goes up to the 5th floor, where his father lives.
Jorge opened the door to Juan's apartment and walks in to the smell of smoke and rum...like always. Jorge puts his coat on the couch. He walks to the fridge and grabs a juice. He pours it into a cup. Juan walks into the room in a dirty tank top and white trunks with skid marks on them.
Jorge: I see where I got my flashlight from...
Juan: Yo, Twinkle don't look at me ok, did you get the shit done?
Jorge: Yes...
Juan: Good.
Jorge: Hey, you told me about your friend Darius. What ever happened to him?
Juan: He moved to South Carolina, started with that country shit, became famous, bullshit, bullshit.
Jorge: Wait...did you just say-
Juan cuts Jorge off, he hands Jorge a piece of paper with an address on it.
Juan: Go there, that's where he lives.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jorge took the bus to South Carolina. It was one of the weirdest shit he has ever seen. A man with a half shaven face. A woman dressed like a bum, a man devouring a box of fried chicken, a couple of people on their tablets watching a movie, kids screaming and crying, babies getting out of their seats and walking around, and that one guy who would fall out of the bathroom. Jorge just couldn't believe that he was going to a place that is nowhere near New York. The trip averaged about 5-6 hours before Jorge arrived. Jorge hitchhiked all the way to a small town called MiddleTown. When he got off of the final truck the air smelt natural, no gas or nothing. Just tree's. Jorge stood their admiring the view forgetting about Darius, he couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Behind Jorge it was a full forest of trees, in front it was a plain and a bunch of farms, and cows. Jorge walked down the plain until he found a road, it had the street Jorge was looking for. Jorge went to Darius's home. It was a typical American house. It was lime green. Jorge knocked on the door, a black man, about 64 of age, bald head, and a grey goatee, opened the door.
Darius: Howdy partner, whachu need?
Jorge: Your Darius...Rucker right?
Darius: Yes, come on in...you must be Juan's son, he told me lots 'bout chu.
Jorge walked inside behind Darius. The floors were made of wooden planks, dark brown to be exact. The walls were sky blue and the lights were average. Some stuff Juan needs to learn from this man... Darius handed Jorge a cup of coffee.
Jorge: No thanks...
Darius: Lil' boy, you better drink what I give you!
Darius signaled Jorge to follow him to the living room. On the way there he handed Jorge a piece off bread as they sat down and played some chess...
Darius pulled out a freshly baked baked pumpkin pie out of the furnace. He cut up 2 peaces for him and Jorge, he then poured milk out of a glass milk jug into two glass cups. Jorge walked around the house, looking at the furniture. It was far different from what he is used to seeing in New York. There wasn't even a television.
Jorge: What is all of this, no television, a furnace. This is some nineteenth century shit...
Darius: Look lil boy, ya'll city boys ain't know nothing 'bout contry, ok. So you gotta get used to this. Tomorrow I will teach you about the farm.
Jorge looks at Darius, he looks out the windows and see's not one farm.
Darius: I know what you gonna say, where the farm at? It's 3 miles away from here.
Jorge: Good that you have a car...
Darius: I don't use those machines, they mess with the air, my crops, so I walk the whole way there...
Jorge: Oh, fuck no man...
Darius: No more fucks, bitches, shit, ass, none of that my house ya heard. Now come eat your food!
Jorge: Yea, next thing you know dis is some fucking-
Darius throws a shoe at Jorge's face, hits him right in the eye.
Jorge: Shit!! I was gonna say nasty stuff!
Darius: You said fuck, and I told you not to, now come eat!!
Jorge walks to the table rubbing his left eye, he sits down and grabs a fork. He nervously cuts a piece of the pie off and eats it.
Jorge's eyes widen up in joy, but he quickly rubs his left eye once more. He rapidly eats the pumpkin pie, washing it all down with fresh milk. Darius looks at Jorge with amazement.
Darius: Dang boy, you just devoured that pie like a cow in a plain full of fresh green grass!!
Jorge: How do you get this so good when, your a man and you know...
Darius: Just like a woman could beat a man in a fight, any gender could do it.
Jorge: Let me get some more!! 3 more pieces! And more of this milk too!
Darius: It's good fresh milk, milked it out of a cow just yesterday!
Jorge payed no attention to what Darius said and continued eating. Dinner ended at 9:00 the time that Darius calls lights out. Jorge slept in the guest's room. The room was small but the bed was the most comfortable bed he ever slept on.
5:00 am in the morning and Darius woke Jorge up to get to the farming. But before they could go they had to eat breakfast, something Jorge rarely did in New York. For breakfast it was scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice. They finished in 30 minutes took a shower, used the bathroom, brushed their teeth, and went out the door.
Jorge and Darius walk down an old dirt road, Jorge stares around. He see's other farms far away. On Darius's farm he see's cows, chicken, sheep, horse's, and many other animals, like pigs. Darius opens the gate to the farm, and they walk in. Jorge smells animal poop all over the place. Darius takes him to a room, he pulls out a plaid, long sleeved, button down shirt in blue and red, normal jeans, brown boots, and a belt with a silver buckle saying 'MiddleTown' out of the closet. Darius made Jorge change from his sky blue WCF pajama pants, white T, and white and blue sneakers to the clothes he took out. Jorge took the clothes and got changed. Now it was time to learn. Darius took Jorge to a small shack like house, he pulled out 6 buckets, and a rope. He took Jorge over to the cows and started milking one. Jorge looked on.
Darius: You see how you do it right?
Jorge nods his head in a 'yes' manner.
Darius: Alright, come over here, go get 14 more buckets, I want you to fill 20 of them up while I go get my mail.
Jorge: Wait, where are my gloves?
Darius: Ya'll city people think to much about being sanitary ok, if you don't wanna have anything to drink tomorrow morning than ok, now let me leave.
Jorge: Wait, let me go for you.
Darius: The postal office is 5 miles from here, go get me my horse, its the white one, its called Sugarplum.
Jorge walked to Sugarplum, he put the saddle on to her, the only thing he knew to do.
Sugarplum: Neigh, neigh!!
Jorge took Sugarplum to Darius, Darius got on his horse and rode off. Jorge started milking the cows.
Jorge finished with milking the cows when Darius came back. Darius had a sad look on his face
Darius: Jorge.......I have some bad news...
Darius broke into tears, Jorge walked to him to calm him down.
Jorge: Come on Darius, its ok...
Darius: Jorge.... your father, Juan died of lung cancer......
Jorge was shocked, his body stopped moving, his lungs tightened up, his cheeks burned, and his eyes watered. Jorge started crying.
Darius gave the letter to Jorge. He told him to read it when they got home, Darius took the milk and put it in a fridge inside the shack. They walked home both in tears....slowly.
They got home, and Darius made dinner. White rice with eggs. They ate it all, and Jorge opened the letter, he read it out loud.
Jorge: Dear Jorge: By the time you read this I will be dead. All that time I spent with you in the past 2 months was because I knew I had cancer. Lung cancer for 5 years, son. I am crying right now, knowing that your going to die... it just makes you think of life. Juan Diaz born in 1943, in Dominican Republic. Moved to America at the age of 7, had a great childhood. Had 3 children, Maria, Sandra, and Jorge. Goes to war. All that stuff is stuff you take to your grave. Being a veteran is what I will take to my grave to, but most importantly. I will take you, my children to my grave. I will see your mother, Danielle again. Jorge, you can stay with Darius and live with him. Take care of my friend, and yourself. Goodbye.
Jorge broke into tears, once more. He went to his room crying and cried to sleep. Darius sat in the kitchen thinking about his best friend....... Juan Diaz.
