Joey Cloudy online

Isaiah Jones versus the Sea (A 21st Century Odyssey)

Hustle Culture: “We shoulda’ brought shotguns for this”

“Ezekiel 25:17. “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and goodwill, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.”

-Jules Winfield

The two young men held their weapons on Isaiah, his fiancée Aeon, his grandparents Hector, and his wife Ariella. They were both young, even with the blue surgical mask, it was obvious they were both in their teens.

The leader, the shorter gunman Dominick, dressed in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a black hoodie, brandishing the stolen 9mm pistol, kept shouting for them to give him the ring. The enterprising young thugs had spotted Aeon and Isaiah having lunch earlier at Robert Earl’s BBQ. They recognised him even with shades and a straw Panama hat. The trio followed them back to the marina and hatched the stupidest plan in history. To return to the marina that evening and steal the million-dollar 6.8 karat diamond engagement ring Izzy gave Aeon seven years ago when he proposed.

What the two never realised, because they didn’t read the article, was that Aeon only wore the ring on special occasions, otherwise it remained locked away in the vault of the Ghanian / AUAs embassy. Had they been paying attention, they might have noticed several rather large muscular black men in dark suits and Ray Bans standing in the shadows at the marina where Isaiah’s grandfather’s 50 ft catamaran, the SS Ariella, named for his new wife, was moored. Now, it was too late for them to notice anything. Isaiah’s primary concern was to get the two of them to surrender their weapons before the security team killed them both.

“I assume you know who I am or you would not be here. Isaiah smiled robotically. So, let me help you get out of here alive.” He spoke coldly slowly.

“Fuck you nerd ass nigga! We got the guns mutha’ fucka’!” The little man shouted, waving the pistol too close to Izzy’s face. Alone, he wasn’t worried, but with two of them, if he made a move on the little one, the other might get a shot off and hit Aeon, Ariella, or Hector.

“Ok, let’s make a deal, if I tell you what’s going to happen next. Will you agree to put down your weapons so when you exit this cabin, the soldiers don’t kill you both?”

“You are not here for political reasons; you are only after money, which there is none here. I could wire transfer funds to an account, but I am certain neither of you has a bank account. It’s apparent you have no professional training; every word you have uttered are monosyllabic trite movie cliché. You hold your weapons incorrectly, Hollywood bullshit. You come not with a 4-man crew advance and cover 2 by 2, but just the two of you barge in. My guess is whoever you have waiting in the parking lot for you is in the trunk of your car by now, zip tied with a black bag over their head.”

Isaiah exhaled a long sigh as he slowly shook his head.

“Those men out there, they are not like the American policeman you are used to dealing with. They have diplomatic immunity and are ADF/African Defence Force soldiers, and as far as they are concerned, your lives were forfeit the moment you set foot on this ship with weapons. By now, they are talking to Penny and Sybil, who would have returned by now with the dogs had they not been stopped by security. They have your driver’s phone. Soon you will be getting a call.”

On cue, the little man’s phone began to ring.

“It’s for me, go ahead, pick up,” Isaiah said knowingly.

“Yeah, nigga what you ca…”

“He….he wanna to talk to you.”

“Put them on speaker, we have no secrets here,” Isaiah said magnanimously. His expression as blank and flat as his tone.

“Do you want us to kill them now, your highness?” The Ghanaian-accented voice on the phone asked Isaiah.

“No. Of course not, these are our people. And besides, these are just poor children, no unnecessary bloodshed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The security officer replied with a Ghanaian-accented English.

“Excellent, is their driver still alive?”

“Yes, tazed, zip tied, bagged, and in the trunk of his car, your excellency.”

Isaiah exhaled impatiently as he looked at the pair lost in their treadmill racing thoughts. The two young thugs looked at each other. The taller, quiet one who obviously didn’t want to do this placed his .38 revolver on the deck.

“I have a bank card, it’s good for $500 a day at any ATM. I can have one of my men drive you to the bank and withdraw the maximum amount, and you can all go on your way? How does that sound to you two?” Isaiah asked, his offer genuine.

“I know it’s not a million-dollar diamond engagement ring, but the truth is, you would never have been able to do anything with the ring even if we had it here and given it to you. You have no one who could move something like that. And the people who gave it to me would not be very happy. Once the Albino heard the news. It would be a death sentence for everyone involved until it was returned. So, Isaiah asked, extending his hand, Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah”, the kid said, placing the pistol on the deck. Before shaking his hand.

“Good, you got guts, kid, I like that, but never hunt your own kin. If you want to do something useful with your abilities, then contact this man, he said as he entered Mister Virgil Boateng’s number into the kid’s phone. This is my personal assistant’s private line; only his daughter, Majid, the president of Ghana, and I have this man’s number. He will know you were sent by me personally. Mister Boateng is the type of man who is always on the lookout for young people with your skills.”

Hector and Ariella picked up the weapons and removed the bullets before returning the pistols to the two boys.

Aeon was furious “Why are you giving them money, work, and letting them go?”

“Everyone was young once, and this is about economics, nothing more.”

“What are your names?” Isaiah asked.

“I’m Dominick, this my cousin Victor and ya’ll got Marvin tied up out there in the trunk.”

“Nice to meet you, you know my fiancée Aeon, and these are my grandparents, retired Master Sergeant Hector Leonardo Jones, United States Marine Corps and his wife Ariella. Put your pistols in your left pockets, and the bullets in the other pocket. Isaiah smiled. “You both can go now. Nice boys, Isaiah said sagely, it’s just capricious youth.” As Aeon looked on, only now beginning to understand for the first time just how the war had twisted and changed him. She doubted his pulse was even elevated. He was so beautifully broken she wept.

-About the author

JD Cloudy’s poetry has disappeared in the literary journals: Fatfizz, Mad Swirl, Texas Beat Anthology, Danse Macabre, Du Jour, and Death List Five. He has won no literary awards, entered no slam competitions, and never completed college. He lives to write in Dallas, Tx.