And Joshua Came Down to Jericho Ch. 01byThe Avenger©
Note: On the surface, this story might seem far fetched and unrealistic, for most of the naive readers out there (see no evil, hear no evil, ha ha ha) but its probably my best researched story on Lit.
Intro: Pimp the burbs to keep the Hood from starving
Joshua was born as the last of Samuel Charles' four children. Samuel, his dad was a tough, disciplined, responsible black man who had his humble beginnings in the hood. After a stint as a second league football player, Samuel had prospered to own a chain of discounters which spanned the whole east coast, with over 3 000 employees and an annual turnover of 35 million dollars. He lived in a townhouse in the better part of Queens bridge
Samuel made sure all his children received a good education. His daughter's got decent jobs and married good men with whom they lived happily, raising their healthy children.
However, his last born son, Joshua, proved to be a problem for Samuel. Josh was a healthy, fit young man. He was gifted boy, academic and sports wise. He was handsome with a very pleasant, charismatic personality and most people liked him instantly.
Samuel wanted his son to rise to the top of the corporate world, rubbing shoulders with rich, powerful men, jet setting around the globe, first class, with many people of all races working under him, saying, "Yes sir Mr Joshua Charles, sir."
However, from the moment Josh started thinking for himself, Samuel did not like the directions his son's thoughts were taking. There was something subversive about him. He read these books, that criticized the society. He listened to Reggae Music, and his favorite rappers were NWA. Once, Samuel curiously rummaged amongst his son's things and found a book containing poems and rhymes his son had penned, and he was incensed. It was communist, ideological, unrealistic filth in his eyes. Samuel destroyed Josh's music and burnt his books and banned him from writing stupid trash.
Josh enrolled in an all black college, sponsored by the United Negro College fund, a major program in business and a minor in English Literature. At college, he met blacks from all over the country, Africa and the diaspora. He joined several political discussion groups. The main subject discussed was the lot of black people in the white man's world. Everything was dealt with, from slavery and colonialism to the present day, the marginalization, the biased, racist mass media, the drugs, violence and police brutality, the destroyed communities... Josh decided that Sam wasn't his Uncle. He also started understanding his latent fear and dislike for white people. He decided to have nothing to do with them.
Once, he tried to reason and discuss the whole black issue with his dad. Samuel simply replied,
"The hell you want? To be President? You think they gonna let your black ass occupy the white house? Forget them damn crackers! Make your money and shut up. Smart ass Niggaz that talk too much get killed. Look at Malcolm, King, or even that Tupac. Shut up and get rich."
Josh also started having beef with his cousin, Marx, who was of his age. Marx was dating a white girl. Josh had met her, she seemed alright, but she was white! Josh took Marx to the side and told him that that shit was out; "Man, its a sign of your inferiority complex. You should cut it out. Its like Barby fucking Bob Marley! Forget the white pussy and find a sister!"
"Man, I love who I love and I fuck who the fuck I find attractive. Any pussy I want, I rip!" Marx responded testily.
"Damn Nigga. What you want with them white chicks. They got no frills, no thrills Ms Six O'clock, straight up, straight down, with an iron board backside!"
"You stupid fool! You don't know what the fuck you talking about?" Marx threw his head back and laughed.
"Then how come your slinking and hiding in the shadows in the disco, when you see black women who know you? Its coz you ashamed of your ugly white girl."
"Ha ha ha!" Marx laughed. "Pam aint ugly, and you know it fool. Stop looking at her color and see her as a person."
Josh shook his head, he was so disappointed with his cousin. He thought he should kidnap him, beat his ass and force him to eat sweet, chocolate black pussy until he came back to his senses and dumped the white girl. Back in college, black guys who dated white girls were simply out. You would get laughed at and black women would spit on you for that shit. And Josh felt that was right.
Back in college, the students exchanged ideas on how they could redress the disadvantaged position of blacks in the US States and the whole world. Some, the real radical ones advocated mass eradication of all whites. Others suggested that all blacks should ostracize themselves from whites and strike out in their own direction, restricting their contact with white people to business only, if they had to. Without the black artists, actors, comedians and athletes, white culture would just be so boring, shallow and comma inducing, like Vanilla Ice, and probably just pale off and die.
Josh and some fellow students advocated affirmative action. However, it wasn't the brand that Clinton had in mind. Young brothers and sisters were talking about forcefully dispossessing whites; falling upon rich and middle class whites like a tonne of hot, sharp bricks and taking away their cash and fancy things, and giving it to the blacks. Josh had no idea how to carry out his ambitious wish, for the white man had the Army, the Police, Hollywood Hulk Hogan, and a whole bunch of shit kickers on payroll, plus the Media, to keep blacks in their place, broke, locked up or dead.
However, Josh decided that it would be his first priority to rob the rich burbs to keep the black hungry Hood from starving. It was his wish, burning desire and most serious mission.
However he should have known one thing, "You have to be careful what you wish for.
Chapter 1: The Black Hand
"I really respect you professor, but I am finding it hard not to laugh," Joshua said to his fat, bald headed, dark, sixty six year old business professor, as they sat in his office. Josh had just graduated par excellence, and would be leaving campus soon.
The conversation over a beer in the prof's living room had started off normally, with the prof saying,
"Josh, you know the academic staff here is very proud of you, but they will be relieved to see you go. Ain't no other student in history ever ran through so many students and teachers in two years as you did."
"It ain't my fault if they all throw themselves at my feet, just because I got a dick like a horse, branded BBC!" Josh said and the two of them guffawed.
"But seriously, Josh, I know you are very disappointed with what happened between you and Moira. But, you gotta go on with life. You knew she was your senior and would finish before you. She would have been stupid not to take that job in LA. And she is married to a good brother, as you yourself say."
"I am not bitter. Its just that Moira and I had a perfect love. We clicked mentally, physically and spiritually. When I was with her, I knew I was where I belonged. Its something I haven't found with any other girl ever since. Its not that I just wanna fuck them. I mean, I do, of course. However, they might be hot, intelligent, cool, whatever, but they ain't Moira."
"There is a time to love and a time to leave, a time to mourn and a time to dance. You have been mourning Josh. Now its time to let go. Open yourself up, or that special woman will pass you by. Don't talk, just think it over."
Professor Michaels was like a second dad for him. He was his star pupil and the professor was like his chief advisor. Josh had shared many a beer and many a dirty conversation with the prof. He liked the old guy, for he was an intelligent, very experienced man who had been there and done that. He had a wide reservoir of knowledge and experiences and a crazy sense of humor. Josh found it very stimulating and exciting to chat with him. His biggest regret at leaving campus was that he would not be able to have his regular chats with the old guy.
However, his beloved prof had suddenly changed into a very serious tone of voice and started telling him that he was a member of some secret group called The Black Hand, whose aim was to achieve true affirmative action and black empowerment. And they wanted to liberate some small southern town named Jericho, that sounded like some relic from the days before Abe Lincoln freed the slaves and they put his face on the five. Josh was like, "Yeah right! SHIT!!!!"
"Well, this look like a joke to you?" the professor asked, as he opened a briefcase and turned it to Josh. His eyes opened wide as he saw the neat stacks of large denomination bills. There had to be at least one million dollars in there.
Professor Michaels fixed his gaze on young Josh, the twenty two year old graduate. He had short, crinkly, black hair, and a handsome, dark face with thick African features. The prof knew that his dad was Afro American, and his mom a Zulu.
He was of medium height, with a muscular torso that looked like it had been carved from granite, which he maintained with regular sport and exercise. He exuded wild virility, like a strong, zealous, young bull.
Joshua had striking, intense, intelligent brown eyes. He had a strong, confident, charismatic, positive aura that made him stand out amongst men. The prof was sure Joshua would go on to achieve greatness in life. Certainly, most of the females on campus found him very attractive.
"I know because of your excellent grades, many companies are after you. However, none of them will give you one mill upfront," the professor said.
"What do I have to do for it?"
"Joshua, you will go down to Jericho and break down the walls."
"What's up with this Jericho?"
"Jericho is a small little town, established 'bout fifty years ago, by reactionary, rich whites who were not pleased with the likes of King, X, The Panthers, JFK, white liberals and democrats whooping all that equal rights stuff and gaining the public ear and enforcing anti-discriminatory legislation. They decided to set up a safe haven for rich white male supremacy. The town is run by this man here, Mayor Richards," Josh was shown a photo of a big, tall, fat white man in his early fifties, who was dressed in cowboy garb. He looked comical, like a fatter, bloated version of Ted Danson in "Made in America".
"That clown is the mayor?"
"On the surface, Mayor Richards is just another small rural town Mayor, yunno, your beef-burger munching, beer and whiskey guzzling, country music loving, square dancing, simple but somehow adorable, good ole country boy. But he is actually a sharp witted, cold, calculating mastermind. His dad was the architect of Jericho and he is now the Kaiser. He is a staunch believer in white supremacy and has money, power and connections. Don't underestimate him."
He pushed another snap shot at Josh, which showed a big, beefy, thickset white man in a Sheriff's uniform. He was in his early forties, had a jowly face with apple red cheeks and a military cut. He had a dumb, arrogant, almost childish smile on his face.
"This here is Sheriff Gray. "Dirty Harry", the blacks in Jericho call him. He is a cross between Dirty Harry and King Herod. He runs the most sadistic, racist, corrupt sheriff's department in the whole country and gets away with everything, even murder. His favorite past time is to run his fist through black man like the horn of a unicorn."
"So, they do Niggaz like King huh?"
"What goddamn King?"
"Martin Luther King, Rodney King or any other goddamn King from Africa..." They both laughed, with sarcastic, macabre humor.
"Sheriff Gray was handpicked for being dumb, passionate and violent. Such men make good, loyal servants, like a bull dog, yunno. The shot callers in Jericho are very rich, influential white men who were born to money. Less fortunate whites, like your old, uneducated, dumb, poor white trash, are found lower down the ladder, but they keep the wheels turning, and live comfortable, privileged lives they would otherwise never have. Therefore, they are very loyal to those above them. Black people are at the bottom of the ladder. They are the hewers of wood and the burden bearers. They have no rights and no perspectives at all. Its back to the slave days. Back to the way it was supposed to be, when this nation was founded, on our backs."
"Why don't they sue that old high sheriff and get his white cracker ass jailed?"
"The whole judiciary system of that county comprises of men who share that racist ideology and are on mayor Richard's pay role."
"Why don't you make a complaint to the FBI or sue the town?"
"Many powerful whites know of Jericho's existence and have holiday domiciles in the town. Its a model project. If it succeeds, they want to slowly but surely spread it to the rest of the country, and set black human rights and all that back like a century ago. Only this time, they will do such a thorough job that all the marches, the uprisings and stuff like the black panthers wont ever happen again. They want to wreck and systematically strip the black man of power and rights completely, forever."
"Get the blacks to testify."
"They wont do it. They'd be run out of town or murdered. And the word of a poor black man crying racism just doesn't hold water, now does it?"
He showed him a photo of a middle aged man, with two young kids, a very beautiful wife and a hot teen-aged daughter. "This is Steven Earl. He handles the important financial and legal stuff, he is a native of Jericho, but he studied and worked outside for more than fifteen years. Mayor Richards lured him back five years ago, after they had problems with the IRS and FBI. He is Mayor Richards right hand man, his chief advisor and Major general. He knows and controls everything legal and financial in Jericho."
"Why don't you send in a white private investigator?"
"Oh, they don't just let in any white person into Jericho. You have to have the right credentials; rich, powerful and sympathetic to their cause. If some nosy, white liberal comes around, Sheriff Gray will just pin some crime on him and escort him out of town. Its much easier to smuggle you in."
"Hell, don't you think this is over my head?"
"To the contrary, you are intelligent, athletic, sexy, fast on your feet, charming and charismatic. You are determined and hard working, creative and independent of thought. And you are passionate about our people's cause. And," he paused and looked Josh deep in the eyes," Your name is Joshua. The town is called Jericho. Your people are suffering. Go and free them. Blow your trumpet and break down the walls of Jericho"
"You gonna give me some trumpet, I suppose?" Josh said sarcastically.
"You already have it, that big, black cock," he smiled. "What were your exact words, "You got a dick like a horse, branded BBC, and you got the stamina of one,"" the professor laughed.
"So, I am supposed to go fuck some white women and free the town, huh?"
"Precisely. You will seduce them, and use them to get access to their men. Then you will gather the information and hard, conclusive evidence we need."
"What! I ain't fucking no white women. They the enemy. Plus they ugly, they got no tits and they ass is flat as wood," Joshua was so emotional he had lost his polished accent.
"Ha ha ha. Yeah right!" The professor pointed at the snapshot of Steve's family. "Look at that wife and daughter, Damn! They got tits to feed whole starving families, and if you got dick for days, they got ass for weeks.." the Professor laughed. "Shit, if I was still young and handsome instead of fat and bald, I would go there myself."
"Now, Jericho is teeming with all these rich white women that have been perfected by the best cosmetic surgeons money can buy. The black males there are so under the boot they would not even dare look at let alone fuck a white woman. That means, all these fine women haven't had black dick. Josh, they have never been filled completely with a big, throbbing cock and fucked out of their minds. Spread your cock around the town; find some weak links, and gain some useful information and access, to help us bring down these bastards."
"I ain't fucking no damn offay!"
"Josh, refusing to fuck white women you find attractive, and who want you, just coz of your hatred for white men is playing into his hands. That is what the white man wants, to be allowed sole access to white woman though he is not the best male to mount her and sire her kids."
"Have you ever fucked a white woman."
"Are you fucking kidding!" the professor laughed dirtily, his face shining with youth of a sudden. "Boy, I tell you, I tell you, I TELL YOU!!! When I was studying at UCLA; I was one of the first blacks to be admitted there, and I tell you, I tell you, I TELL YOU! White pussy was falling on my dick like a drops of rain in a tropical storm. Shit!!! I fucked so many white women in ways you could never even imagine," he broke into a deep, dirty laugh. "Not every white woman wants to fuck a black man, but the ones who do, I TELL YOU!!! They love black meat to death! HELL!!! Even white men love a big, hard, black cock!"
"You mean you fucked with some white guys!!!" Josh exclaimed.
"Hell yeah! I fucked many white boys..." laughed the prof.
"I cant picture you holding hands with some gay white dude, walking through the park, tongue kissing and saying, baby "I love you!" and shit!!!" Josh laughed sarcastically, shaking his head!
"No. It wasn't even like that player. These were straight white boys. But they had to succumb to and bow down before me and worship my black cock with their mouths. SHIT!!!! I even fucked a couple of them up the ass," the prof laughed dirtily. "Its an experience every black man should have. Its so liberating."
"You ain't bullshitting me?"
"Its the truth and nothing but the damn truth, so help my black ass. Now, you the type of black dude white women love, handsome, dark, muscular, virile, charismatic. Shit every woman loves such an African warrior like you. Even those racists in Jericho will not be immune to you."
"Forget it. I wont do it. Black men that fuck white women are traitors. And fucking a white dude! You gots to be kidding my ass Prof!" Josh said passionately.
"Yeah Josh! All you students talk for hours about the predicament of our people, yet when its time to act, you wanna back out. Put your money where your mouth is, young buck or shut the fuck up! Talk is cheap. But it ain't gonna free our people. You gonna do it?"
Josh thought about it. He was scared. But he was so pissed. He could not believe that such an abomination existed. He had always wished he had been in Dixie, with an A K and a couple of fat banana clips, then shit wouldn't have been that bad in the sixties. If he had to, he would have "killed more crackers than Bosnia-Herzegovina." (Its just a quote from Ice Cube) Now was his chance.
"We have a man who has a foot inside the door in Jericho. He is a gardener, he works for all the white folks in town. They all feel safe around him, coz he sustained an injury fighting for Uncle Sam that left him impotent. Now, he is going to take a hip operation, and you are going in as his maternal nephew, to cover for him."
"Alright. I will go down there and see what I can do." He stood up and closed the briefcase."
"Eh, Josh, you get the money after you come back."
"Listen Prof, tell The Black Hand that I said, Joshua ain't going down to Jericho if he don't have the mill in his Black Hand! Fuck the trumpet."
"Alright, then, but you had better deliver something. The Black Hand can pimp slap you if it has to."
"So, who else is in The Black Hand?"
"The less you know the safer for you. If you know too much too early and things go wrong, that could put us in a tight spot. And well..."