Quiet is laying staring up at the ceiling of the train. "Why are we doing this?" He asks. An image of Quiet appears on the other side of the train car. “What the fuck does it matter why? The bunker's gone, all those women dead. The way I see it. This is just another phase on the way to death. At least this phase is gonna start with a party. Hell the Old Head might even give you a house and a job, we play this whole thing right." "Is that all you ever think about? Surviving till we all inevitably die." Quiet responds. "What else is there to live for?" The image says back as it's fading away. Quiet sits up and looks out the window. He doesn't respond.
When the train pulls into the station, Quiet notices a man waiting for him holding a black poster card with a white question mark on it. Quiet goes with the man to his car. They drive to a warehouse that's been made into a club. People are lined down the block tryna get in. Quiet nods his head to the driver and exits the car.
He walks past everyone and enters the club. Noone says anything to him nor does he stop to say anything to anyone as he enters. The club is packed to the brim with people. "It's like a fucking music video in here!" The image of Quiet follows closely behind him. "I know yo ass see V.I.P. You ain't gonna say what up to the old man?" "That’s not why I'm here." Quiet makes his way through the club to the bar. "Henny and coke." The bartender nods, walks off and returns a sec later with his drink. As Quiet sips his drink a man places his hand on his shoulder.
"My father's been waiting on you nigga." The man has to basically yell to be heard over the music. Quiet turns to the man. "He's upstairs." The man motions for Quiet to follow him. The image of Quiet appears behind him again as he follows the man. " Anthony "The Kid" Curtis. Damn ain't seen him since he was a teen. Damn near didn't recognize his ass, but look at him now all grown up. Ha Ha. Boy this bout to be a trip!" "Don't you ever shut up." Quiet whispers to himself. The image fades away.
They make their way through the club and up to the office. "Well if it isn't the great and amazing Black." The Old Man says happily "Noone calls me that anymore." Quiet quickly reminds him. "Oh that's right you like to be called Quiet now. Man of little words. Ha ha." The Old Head says jokingly. "What's with the party? Thought you were old school low key and all that." Quiet says. “Times have changed. I'm partly legit and I'm almost done with this street shit.” He explains. “Is that so?” Quiet asks. “Yes son, I have been put on the list as a candidate for president of South Africa!” The Old says excitedly. “Wow congrats man.” Quiet says kinda shocked. “Thank you boy. I'm finally doing it. Every real black man's dream. Making it outta the ghetto while at the same time finding a way to better the ghetto.” The Old Head boosts. “I sure hope so.” Quiet mumbles. “You doubtful of me after all this time. Have you ever known me to not give back and try to better my people?” The Old Head questions.
Quiet stays quiet for a second. “Now come here boy.” The Old Head says and they hug. “This is a time for celebration. No more street life. Looking over your shoulder.” The Kid, who's been sitting on a couch in the office this whole time, laughs to himself. “Nah, now just worry about kissing up to white people all day.” He says to himself. “As president the only person I might have to kiss up to is Mansa and last time I checked that man ain't white.” The Old Head responds. Quiet smirks a little. “It's good to see you, boy. I was worried for a sec there when you disappeared.” The Old Head tells him. “Not much that can keep me down, old man.” They both chuckle. “Let's get some drinks and catch up boy. How was fighting “The Man?”” The Old Head asks.
Quiet takes a moment before responding. “Why don't we drink first?” Quiet suggests. The Kid leaves and gets them all drinks. They all drink and catch up. The Old Head lets Quiet stay in his guest house in his backyard. See The Old Head lived in a huge house he had built. He bought all the properties and moved all the families and businesses to other places. Free of charge of course.
Quiet lays on a big bed looking up at the ceiling. An image of Quiet sits in a lazy boy chair across the room. "HaHaHaHa nigga what did I tell you. Look at us it ain't even been 24 hours." The image of Quiet lays back in the chair with a big smile on his face. Quiet continues to look up at the ceiling as he responds. "Yeah I guess The Old Head has always been generous." He responds.
The next morning Quiet meets with The Old Head in his study. With him he had his son The Kid and his two bodyguards. Bushido Brown a bodyguard for hire, and Ellsworth "Bumpy" Johnson his right hand man and long time friend.
"How did you sleep boy?" The Old Head asks. "Like a baby." Quiet responds. "Better then a baby nigga like a log." The image of Quiet says and chuckles. "Good to hear. Why don't you run some errands with my boy today? Like you used to do for me in the old days." The Old Head suggests. "Why the hell not?" Quiet thinks to himself. Plus it wasn't like he had anything against The Kid. Quiet actually thought he was a pretty cool kid back in the day. "Sure. Not like I got anything better to do." Quiet says. Quiet and The Kid dap up and stand up to leave. "It really is nice to see you again. I know how it is fighting a war, good to see it didn't take your mind or body son." The Old Head says to Quiet before they head out. "You'd have to have a mind for the war to fuck up for that happen!!" The image of Quiet says and laughs.
They get in The Kid's car. "So what you really been up to nigga?" The Kid asks. "What you mean?" Quiet responds. The Kid lights a blunt before pulling off. "I mean you really been over there fighting the people and shit all this time nigga? Cause you know I heard they found yo ass hid up in some bunker with a bunch of bitches."
Quiet chuckles. "Idk I guess it just got old. All the fighting and shit. After awhile you wonder what the fuck am I even fighting for?" The Kid cuts in. "So you cut your losses and hid with all your riches and bitches!!" The Kid busts out laughing as he passes the blunt to Quiet. "Aye I don't blame you nigga. I woulda done the same shit." "So what are these runs we doing today anyways?" Quiet asks.
"Ahh chill nigga this ain't like when you niggas was thuggin it. We basically glorified hood police and debt collectors. The old man put all that money into legit businesses and shit. People basically pay us to protect them and solve their problems." "And the police?" Quiet asks. "They do what they been doing, not a goddamn thing." They smoke and pass the blunt as The Kid drives on. – end of fifteenth issue???
