Black Gregg – Chapter 2

Black Gregg from the ghetto Meets
The orange man at his house
(The parable of the rich fool)
Luke 16:16-21

After being neutralized by Brohamm, Black Gregg is healed, his scars and sores gone. He’s then delivered back to earth to complete his missions, his only memory is that he is a vagabond from Chicago. The train squeals to a stop, startling Black Gregg awake. Bleary eyed, he opens the cabin doors, noticing it is dusk, he realizes. “Man, I must have slept all day.” He jumps out onto the gravel. “I’m hungrier than a mug”. Looking down the tracks, he spots a town about three miles away.  Arriving in town, he looks around until finding a house in need of yard work.

Black Gregg strides up to the small picket fence, opens the gate into the front yard. “What type of crib is this? It’s painted red, black and green. That’s the colors for the African American flag. Looks like a black sorority or fraternity house.” Black Gregg goes up the steps, onto their huge porch. “i hope this is a black frat house. I know those brothers gonna give me some work.” He rings the bell. An orange man opens the door with a cigar in one hand, a drink in the other. Black Gregg asks him “what’s up homey? This a bad ass crib you got. Black folks stay here? Wait a min, you ain’t no homey you an orange white guy? What the hell!”

The orange man replies “you were supposed to be here days ago, look at my yard! You know where the tools are, get to work boy!” Slams the door in Black Greggs face. “Hmm, guess i got the job.” Walking to the garage he utters under his breath. “I’m about to make them dollar bills, yawl.”

He grabs some clippers and a few other tools, trimming the bushes around the frat house, he hears men cheering. “Yea! Way to go! Kill him! Kill him!” Black Gregg moves closer to a bay window then peeks in “what the…?” He sees a bunch of white men playing video games. They’re all laughing, as they score points for beating down a black guy with Billy clubs on the tv. Black Gregg notices some video games on a table. “The Ronny King beat down, shoot a black teenager with his hands up.  On the far wall hangs an elegant painting of president Obama.  A few darts are sticking in his nose and there are a bunch of holes all over it from previous throws. He notices a spread of soul food on a buffet table “hot damn, that’s what I’m talking about!”

Black Gregg moves away from the window, trimming the bushes again. “This used to be black frat house. They must’ve kicked them out too!” Through the window he observes black memorabilia and African statues on display. ”they dressed them up to look like clowns! How dare they disgrace my heritage?!” Black Gregg sees the white men heading toward the front door. Last one out was the orange man. “Hey boy, finish up here. I’ll be right back.” “Ok boss.” Black Gregg replies. The white men drive off together. Black Gregg drops his clippers. “i’m going in there to get me some fried chicken. He turns the back door knob. “Hot damn, its open. These white folks don’t lock anything!!”

He walks over to the buffet, grabs some fried chicken and a slice of sweet potato pie. While biting off a piece of chicken, he finds himself in the library. Skimming some of the book titles, to his dismay, he read. “How to keep money from a black man, how to impede and dismantle black policies, how to prevent a black president from accomplishing anything and fun screwing with the blacks for dummies … i’ve read enough. This is what rich white people want to do, discourage black families, that’s just wrong, for that reason… I’m out!” He leaves the library I wonder what’s downstairs.”

Curiosity got to Black Gregg, so he proceeds down the basement stairs. After poking around for a bit, he hears a door close upstairs. He realizes, he’s not alone anymore. Someone, is walking around. The footsteps head down the stairs.  Black Gregg hides in the closet. The orange man brushes by Black Gregg’s hiding spot, pulling down a ­sconce, the whole wall springs back revealing a secreted vault. Inside, there are coins, bonds, gold bars, and stacks of hundred dollar bills and bundles of treasury notes. The orange man strides inside, adding more money to the piles in his safe. The orange man says to himself. “St. Luke 12:19 so thou hast much good laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink and be merry.” Black Gregg sneaks out of the closet and runs up the steps. “A disembodied voice speaks out “St. Luke 12:20 thy fool, this night, ‘thy’ soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those be, which thou hast provided?”  Only hearing the sound of Black Gregg running for his life, the orange man lunges out of the safe to a large desk simultaneously grabbing a gun while pressing the silent alarm button. The orange man leaps up the stairs in hot pursuit. Black Gregg notices that it is dark outside. Grabbing a candlestick holder. He runs out the front door, busts out the light on one side while hurling the candlestick, breaking the light on the other. The orange man reaches the top of the basement steps. Spotting Black Gregg outside running, he fires off a couple of rounds. Black Gregg leapt hard to the right avoiding the bullets. Black Gregg flew off the porch on to the front lawn, sprang over the white picket fence and bolted down the boulevard.

Black Gregg hears the police rolling up the opposite end of the block. They burn rubber rounding the corner, not noticing Black Gregg disappearing into the darkness. The orange man bursts on to the porch, gun in hand. The police, Billy and Jim, jump out of the squad car, guns drawn.  Billy exclaims “there’s a black bum coming outta the house!” Forgetting he’s holding the gun, the orange man yells. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot” while foolishly flailing his arms about. The police open fire, until their chambers were emptied. “We filled that Blackie full of hot lead.” Billy sneered. Jim adds “if he ain’t dead, his hurt’ in!” They laugh. ”ha, ha, ha!” High fiving as they walk through the gate of the picket fence.  Billy orders “now, let’s go ask his black ass some questions.” Jim agrees “yeah, let’s find out who he is and what he was doing in our neighborhood!” Laughing some more, they stand over him. “What type of Blackie is this?” The color drains from Billy’s face.

“Oh no! We killed the orange, white guy!” Jim falls to his knees. “Whyyyy, oh crap? We couldn’t see. It was dark.” Billy senses something a bit off. “Hold on, he was always afraid he’d be mistaken for a black guy, that’s why he kept his porch light on at night.” Jim notices “what’s that on the porch?” The police move up the steps. Billy realizes “we’ve been set up!” Jim points to the broken glass “somebody busted out the lights with that candlestick holder.” Billy suggests “let’s find the son of a bitch, and pin it on him.”  “Yeah” Jim agrees. Off the porch they raced, jumping into the squad car, tires squealing as they take off down the road.

Black Gregg moves slowly through the woods next to the railroad tracks. He pauses, looking to see if anybody’s around. He runs and jumps into the same rail car. As he closes the door slowly, he prays; “i hope the police don’t find me.” The train jerks into motion, chugging slowly down the tracks. The whistle blows as it nears the intersection in town. Black Gregg knelt forward to get a peek out of a corroded hole in the door. Flashing red and blue lights reflect off of everything. The police are everywhere.  A light flashes on the train as it rolls by.

The train rolls down the tracks heading towards the next mission for Black Gregg. Observing from above sister soldier asks Brohamm “how did he know to bust out the porch lights?” Brohamm reply’s “Black Gregg is the chosen one.” Brohamm puts his arm around sister soldier. Luke 12:21 “so is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and not rich towards god.”