King Kong grabbed the reverend by his shirt collar, choking him as if he were a little boy.
Reverend Stanford’s church members prayed louder and harder.
“Please take your hands off me, my brother,” Reverend Stanford said through clenched teeth. “I can assure you that you don’t want a fight with God.” He reached up and tried to pry King Kong’s hand loose, but the gorilla held on even tighter. A tall, strong man himself, Reverend Stanford took deep, calculated breaths, silently asking the Lord to intervene. “I plead the blood of Jesus against you right now!”
King Kong threw his head back and laughed. “I’m going to make sure you never mess with the king again.” As he held on to Reverend Stanford, glaring at him, his eyes began to widen in alarm. The hand that gripped the shirt began to tremble, with the gun shivering a little in the other hand. King Kong quickly let go of the reverend’s shirt and took a step back. “Wha... wha... what the...?”
Reverend Stanford continued to lock eyes with King Kong without saying a word, while Danny and the people who were present went quiet, with puzzled expressions on their faces.
King Kong tried to move again, but his feet felt like they were planted in wet cement. His body began to shiver as if he were having a seizure. Almost robotically, King Kong’s head tilted up, his eyes staring up to the sky in horror. He blinked over and over, shaking his head to regain his senses. Right before his eyes, Reverend Stanford grew to over eight feet tall and was still growing, his body expanding like the Incredible Hulk.
“What’s the matter, King?” Danny asked as he moved closer. “Man, you feeling all right?”
King Kong pointed up to the reverend high in the sky that only his eyes could behold. “Pastor. Pastor.” The gun fell from his shaky hand to the ground.
Everyone looked up except Reverend Stanford but saw nothing.
“Lord have mercy, King Kong done lost his mind,” someone whispered under their breath.
“That’s what happens when you mess with God’s people. How can he disrespect the reverend like that?” someone uttered.
Reverend Stanford was looking at King Kong with a smirk on his face. He didn’t know what was going on as it was between King Kong and God. But he had a strong feeling the king was beholding the power of the real King.
King Kong’s eyes stayed fixed up to the heavens, his hands wrapped around his body, whimpering as if in pain.
Danny picked up King Kong’s gun and looked at him, unsure of what he should do.
Suddenly, a loud horn resounded in the air. Everyone jumped out of the way of the speeding motorcycle that came to a stop at King Kong’s feet. “What’s going on here?” Saddam asked, jumping off the bike to stand in front of his boss.
“He got into it with the reverend, and then he started to act weird,” Danny informed him. “I don’t know what he’s looking up at because I can’t see a thing.”
Saddam followed King Kong’s gaze, and he didn’t see anything either. “Come on, King. Let’s get you inside.” He placed one hand on King Kong’s shoulder.
“Pastor... up in the sky. Do you see him?” King Kong mumbled some more mumbo jumbo before Saddam and Danny led him back toward the restaurant.
At the restaurant entrance, Danny turned around. “Obeah man,” he screamed, referring to a person who practiced witchcraft. “Get out of here before I finish what King Kong started.” But even his voice faltered a little. Danny glanced up into the beautiful blue sky before slamming the restaurant door shut.
Reverend Stanford and the people stared at the closed door for a few seconds. Many were wondering what in heaven’s name just happened to the big bad gorilla.
“Okay, everyone. I apologize for that little misunderstanding.” Reverend Stanford smiled at the people. “You see now why I have to serve the Lord? Psalm 105:15 says, ‘Saying, Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm.’ No enemy is too bad for God to handle! Hallelujah!”
Hallelujahs and amens rang out. The unbelievers were in wonder and the believers in praise.
Chapter Ten
“Old dog like me, we haffi have dem inna twos an three...” Dance hall king Beenie Man proclaimed with no shame to his game. Loud, rhythmic reggae music blared through loudspeakers as the crowd made the moves to the popular fun dances. Boisterous laughter and animated chatter, induced by the rapid flow of alcohol and the power of marijuana, reverberated around the club. Scantily clad women wearing miniskirts, short shorts, skintight pants, halter tops, and supershort dresses moved their hips to the beat of the music. The lustful men in their baggy jeans, name brand T-shirts and sneakers, silk shirts, and tailored pants watched in appreciation.
As couples grinded on each other, pumping and salivating in musical bliss, Suave watched in amusement. Leaning against the wall in a dark corner reserved for him and his crew, he puffed away on a spliff before taking a sip from the glass of Hennessey. Clad in black from head to toe, he blended in with the dark venue as intended.
It was Queen Bee’s annual birthday bash at the Asylum Club in New Kingston. Many said she was turning sixty, but Queen Bee got stuck at thirty years old many moons ago.
“You okay, Boss? Want me to refresh that for you?” one of Suave’s soldiers inquired of him, his hand outstretched for the glass.
Suave gave it to him and watched as he reached into a big bucket on the ground that was filled with bottles of Hennessey. The young man took out a new bottle and popped opened the cork. He refilled Suave’s glass and handed it back to him.
“Yo, hit me up again too,” Daddy Lizard said as he
