Previously: Aleigha sets out to find the Fate Word book. However, an old slave spirit stops him and drags him into the realm, The Ghytto.
"Well, Seamus. I'm alive."
Seamus: Thank God. I'm so sorry, I couldn't help, I'm bound to this wheel.
"It's fine." I'm still on the verge of death. Fuck my goddamn brother. How am I even breathing this long?
Seamus: What was that explosion in the library?
"Probably my brother dying... hopefully."
Whatever I felt for Aleigha previously. That shit is gone. I'm here in the crook of the backseat with large ass bite wounds. I hope to the holy Gods his ass is dead! At the same time, I hope the fuck not. He said he was going to fix me. There isn't a lot my disabled ass can do.
Seamus: Can't believe he tried to eat you. You're family.
"I know!" Thank God Seamus is here. He can't nurse my wounds, but the company is grand. If I die, technically, to some degree; we're together.
My eyes turn upward toward the window. A set of feet hitting the ground. Jesus Christ, I'm dying and now I'm getting robbed. I'm thinking, almost hoping, it's Aleigha.
A tap at the window sounds followed by a thick Spanish accent. He's speaking fluent Spanish.
"You know what he's saying?"
Seamus: Not a clue
Why asks a zombie? I know Seamus doesn't know but the boy likes feeling included and I'm all about inclusion. And living! He starts banging on the window and raising his voice, I have no idea what he wants. If he is saying let me in the car. I surely can't do that.
I simply wave him off. He gets angry and kicks the car. A nasty snarl emits, I can't get up to see. Every small movement I make is pinching agony.
"He isn't coming back." Utters a female voice. "You can come with us instead."
"Huh?" the door opens, I slide out the car, on my bitten side. I hate my fucking life. "Hola." She greets. A medium-sized woman with a large breast stands above me. She has blond hair with a big red sombrero. "I'm Thankful."
Aleigha
In the Ghytto, where the blood is thicker than water, literally. This city loves blackness, inside and out. Just niggas trying to get through, trying to live.
It is the between. If I told someone Struggle was a person, the Ghytto would be the definition.
I've been running after this book forever. I'm sick of hearing Kalu laugh behind me. I'm hitting people, passing through allies, a dog tried to chase me. I'm nappy, sweating, and motherfucking irritated.
I dig out my phone, thank God, it hasn't left me. "Ileoh, where is the book going?"
"Books from the Ghytto are hard to trace." Says Ileoh. "Why?"
"Because niggas don't read." She alludes. "You know what the Ghytto is right?"
What negro doesn't? "It's the Underground. Our ancestor's weren't stupid. All the magic in the world leading to freedom is down here."
"It's a beautiful set of veins."
It is, on a map, it oozes the blood of freedom. The blood of the woman who worked hard for it. And more.
"How do I get to the book, Ileoh?"
"You got to learn how to read first, nigga." I almost threw my phone. "The Ghytto is tricky just like the above but it just wants you to know. You ain't getting nowhere unless you know how to work your ass off."
"Meaning?"
"You are your mother's child... figure it out."
That am I. I don't like thinking about my mother's scars. As the God of this world says: I've been hurting for a long time and left a mark on the places I've been. And nigga I have made it.
"Where did you leave a mark, mama?"
--‐--------
If my mother taught me anything. You need to fight the world to live in it. Lefe is a hard-ass motherfucker. He's telling me, fight for your right.
There's a school here, Isham Rashad. Mama said the teacher is Ms. Crawford, out of all the white people that could parade here. It's a few good ones.
Winding streets, known as the Black Sweats. An ocean that bleeds, rot spots surface to the top of the water. If the world had a heart, it would be there.
Another saying in the Ghytto: All my hard work bleeds through. My mother's blood is in there somewhere.
Street signs are different here. They appear as if they're hanging in the air. I'm standing on Newlyn and Neptune Street. I'm at an intersection, on the left side of the street is a row of festival stands. I go to the with balloons and a man in a jester outfit. Plates of pies lay in front of him. He has a drawn on a purple smile, white face paint, and mysterious green eyes.
I move to the stand and ask the man his name, "Snackh"
I thought I heard snacks, "No, I'm asking about yo' name.
"Snackh." He arches a brow. "My name is Snackh Fowler."
Everyone in the Ghytto has a Lowkey Name. Ranaan isn't my mother's maiden name and she told us to never breathe it. "Do you know a woman named Childhood?" He starts cackling, "If I ever heard of a child, she would be from the hood!"
Mama also said crackheads lived here.
"Ain't a soul through here that hasn't heard that name!" he has the thickest Louisiana accent. There's so much joy in his voice, "I'm one of her sons. Aleigha Omehia."
"Ooo, bad seed." He creases. "You a cannibal..."
Fuck me left, right, and double-tap. Now, I'm cursing like my goddamn mama. "That's beside the point."
"Nigga that's the whole point..." he gazes at me up and down. "You best remember don't nothing go through here, unheard! We know."
"Good. If you can't answer any other question. Where the fuck is The Leviathan of the Ghytto?"
"You mean fucking, crooked ass Vini?" he aims two fingers in the air towards the southwest. "Down there in Mississippi."
"Way down there?" The Underground is nicknamed Under-Under or The Undies. "Quick way."
"Nonexistent."
"Oh, come on."
"Listen nigga, right now you in New Hampshire. The Granite." He states. "I came from Maine."
"You just crossed the street." He shakes his head. "Acciti," in a cloud of purple smoke, a map appears. He grabs it and passes it to me.
"Follow the map. You going through Massachusetts and Connecticut, you finna meet a curve; the Elbow. You going down the arm next, passing New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. You gon' come to the Fingers, you want to take the 6th tunnel. That's the extra long pinky." Goddamn, he's a Walker. Walkers know the streets and give directions... I asked the correct nigga. "You exit that tunnel, you in the Vybe. That's The Whoop Area. You merged with Tennessee then head south to Alabama. It's straight along the Key Chain. You take the Soul Train; his name Obadiah Means. Do you hear me?"
I'm happy he didn't say Repeat. "Got a map?"