WMD Ch. 03

Darius' opening offensive had backfired in more than one way. I was sure he only saw this rebellion as a temporary thing he could soon correct. After all, he had blackmail material, his dominant mystique and his super-impressive BBC that would bring any woman to heel. His only concern was how much hell to put Brandy through before he disposed of her in one colossal gang-bang then dumping her mind-broken slut body on Big Bob's stoop. It was the 'asshole' thing to do.

The rest of the day was still torturous. I developed several bruises and scrapes. Darius was still going with his full-court press to wear us down to the point we lashed out ~ suddenly there would be dozens of witnesses to our infraction. To add to our problems, Kaelyne also became a target of their aggression. I was as surprised as anyone when I learned she had been sent to the Vice Principal's office.

Some muttonhead had grabbed her tit in the hallway between classes. She stabbed him in the face with a metal mechanical pencil while screaming 'rape' at the top of her lungs. This was not the 'Bad Ole Days'. Big Bob was keeping his eyes on the place and Principal Jean-Georges wasn't that 'Fat Old Bastard'. The 'assailant' had six inches and a hundred pounds on Kaelyne so the idea that she randomly attacked him was ludicrous.

From what I heard, Big Bob was in a downright arctic mood too. Only later did Mom tell me she'd shown him the video of that first night at the lake ... bukkake Brandy, Clarence getting some, and the general degradation handed out. Big Bob turned out to be NOTHING like my Dad. Mom had to hold him back from going all 'redneck' on Darius and his crew. What did she offer?

Revenge ... at the hands of the Samsonov's. Dad could never find out. Big Bob was okay with that - bending the law to the point of breaking, covering up a crime and inventing evidence as needed to make sure that the crime would go unsolved - all those evils were absolved by the wickedness visited upon his daughter. Even then Mom had to promise an epic ass-whooping to keep him in line. 'How soon?' he had asked. Mom asked him if 'Alexander', Taliyah, Brandy and I could spend the night at his place Friday night after the game.

"No problem," he grinned savagely.

That afternoon we had to set some of Ms. Blanchard's students straight about how the wrong Samsonov had been beaten up and how Ms. Blanchard had a permanent escort to and from school for the foreseeable future. I had to admit, beating the crap out of the five of them felt good. Mikhail was positively euphoric. Big Bob had a reliable deputy hanging around the football team after school so that the Cheer Squad could go and come unmolested.

Friday was more of the same - running the gauntlet between classes, dealing with collateral damage - Kaelyne was beaten up by some Black girls in the restroom - Vicky got more of the same when she tried to rescue her - and general crap at lunch. After lunch we were expecting a last, major push - some effort to remove us from the picture before the football game, leaving Brandy and Taliyah vulnerable far from home.

It didn't work out that way. As lunch ended, the Brothers Samsonov, Kaelyne, (Vicky simply cut class) and the cheerleaders were all requested in the Principal's office. From there we were handed off to my Mom's tender loving care. See, she'd rented two luxurious vans for the team to be taken to the game, but we had to leave early to pick them up. Darius had fucked with the wrong Samsonov alright. Mom was a freaking psychic, or a satanic prophet.

The game was the standard beat down. We won 30-14. Dad, currently off-duty, helped Mom shepherd the now horny cheerleaders off the field after the final play. I caught Darius glaring hate my way. He was counting on our inevitable defeat. What happened instead was indeed inevitable. Rattlesnakes that bit Mom, died. Killer whales turned away out of common courtesy shown to apex predators. Ten minutes alone in a room with my Mom had hardcore 'Lifers' calling their Mommas begging forgiveness ... and I was assured that Theo was even scarier.

After the game, we drove all the cheerleaders home, deposited the vans at our house, then Brandy, Taliyah, Mikhail and us went over to Big Bob's house. The girls grew sleepy, so Taliyah called her mother and told her she was spending the night at Brandy's. She didn't mention us being there. It was okay. The girls and Big Bob nodded off soon enough. Ground up sleeping pills in their drinks will do that.

At nine o'clock, I woke up Big Bob from his recliner and suggested he go to bed. After he left, I erased the pre-recorded TiVo he'd unwittingly been watching, changed the clocks back to the real time - midnight - and then joined Mikhail on floor of Brandy's bedroom.

"Did you cut Big Bob's phone back on?" he asked. With the scope of the disaster we had enacted, he was bound to be called in.

"Yeah. Alibi established," I yawned.

My post-combat adrenaline rush was still keeping me awake. Twenty-three minutes later, Big Bob knocked on the door before coming in.

"Daddy?" Brandy rose up on her elbow and rubbed her eyes.

"Just checking up on you," he scanned the room. "Taliyah - boys ..."

"Is there a problem?" Brandy pouted.

"It seems there was a big fight at school and some boys got really hurt," he shot Mikhail and I a curious look.

"Sorry we missed it," Mikhail snorted.

"Vladimir, step outside and talk to me a second," Big Bob motioned. I complied. It seemed prudent at the time. Once in the hall, he shut the door.

"This didn't have anything to do with you, or your brother, did it?"

"What happened when?" I tilted my head. Big Bob chuckled.

"Roughly nine o'clock tonight," he grinned.

"As I recall, I went downstairs for a soda around nine, saw you asleep in your chair and suggested you go to bed," I kept a straight face.

"I would have helped," he whispered.

"With what, Sir?" I wondered. He looked at me steadily. Dad would have known something was up - seeking the truth was in his genetics. Big Bob ... was as a diligent public servant who wove the delicate balance between law & order versus what was best for the public welfare. He just nodded, gave another chuckle then left.

Over breakfast the next morning, Big Bob gave us the 411 on what had happened. Between nine o'clock and nine-ten last night, Darius and six other football players had been drinking in the parking lot after the bus ride back to school when two (maybe three) armed and armored assailants ambushed them. The attackers had been wielding big sticks/staves and proceeded to beat the seven students into unconsciousness.

Darius had gotten the worst of it. Both of his knees were shattered. He was already being transferred from Davis Memorial Hospital to the one attached to the University of Arkansas Sports Medicine program. Even with that, the doctor at the hospital worried that the young athlete would ever walk again, much less run. Any hope of a career in football was gone. Even if he made a full recovery, it would take years. By that time ... a college scholarship followed by some time in the NFL was a distant, impossible dream.

My brother and I were immediate suspects except we had three witnesses to say we were otherwise occupied. The key one was Sheriff Big Bob Carson's himself. He recalled the time as well as what was on TV when I woke him up.

Who else could it have been? Darius and the rest of Davis High's football team had spent all last season and the start of this season building up a huge roster of teams who hated their guts. Enough to hurt them? Darius' buddies had sidelined a fair number of student-athletes in their time. It could be drug related too. Darius' big brother was a known local drug figure.

A peculiar aspect of the crime was that the security cameras around the crime scene had been knocked out with an air rifle while we were all at the game out of town - I had no idea that Kaelyne was that good a shot. There was no video evidence of the crime and, unless you believed in a massive conspiracy, it pretty much cleared the Samsonov's (Dad had been with us at the game and 'Mikhail' had been in the hospital ~ where people unknown/Darius had put him).

Mom's alibi didn't start until she was seen by my Dad around 9:45 that night. She'd gone to visit 'Mikhail' at the hospital (he would be coming home this morning) then gone for a walk on the property. The Kingston PD had launched a raid on the house despite the crime not happening in their jurisdiction. They did illegally cross into county land, yet didn't find any incriminating evidence. Phineas Cobb III had taken care of that for her.

A five person (me, Mikhail, Mom, Kaelyne and Mr. Cobb) conspiracy had given Darius far more retribution than he could have possibly considered. Mom had insisted that we destroy his legs, thus ending his most potent weapon in the BBC arsenal - his status as a sports star. His dominant shadow would no longer cast itself on the halls of our school.

Had he not put Alexander in the hospital ...

But he did. Threatening my brother's life had cost him his future. The most insidious part of Mom's plan was that whatever the Black community of Kingston thought, they would never be sure it was the Samsonov's behind it. We had never verbally threatened anybody over what happened to 'Mikhail/Alexander'.

To believe we did it was to accept we had some sort of serious grievance. We did. Everyone knew we did yet they had denied the crime when it happened and were now trapped in that denial. In the investigation of the beating, the name 'Darius' had never come up. In fact, 'Mikhail/Alexander' hadn't named anyone, not even the coach. Mom had bluffed about that.

Publically, if we had any issues to work out, it would have been with the coach and he was just fine - not a scratch on him.

None of that stopped the Kingston PD from stepping up the pressure on the Samsonovs. It didn't stop the Mayor from calling in the State Police to take over the investigation. We weren't sure on what grounds it was being requested. After all, her talk with me about Darius had happened under circumstances she definitely didn't want to make public. Dad wasn't part of either investigation. Big Bob being our alibi didn't automatically exclude him.

The outside investigators came by Bob's on Sunday to talk with him about it and he'd agreed on a concurrent investigation. The biggest question for the men (women actually) from Little Rock was why did anyone think it was 'Alexander' and I. What was our motive? Brandy had dumped Darius to be with me, so why would I want to punish him over that fact? Brandy hadn't been publically, or privately, threatened by him.

'Alexander' and I? We Samsonov boys were good kids, making good grades with no recorded history of violence of any kind, neither in Arkansas, or Alaska. I hadn't liked Darius, but that hardly made me, or 'Alexander', unique. Most of the White student body hated his guts - after the fact. The showdown last Thursday? The only one who committed violence was the mayor's daughter on her former boyfriend ... who wasn't among those hospitalized.

Rashaan had been saved punishment because his teammates so shamed on the bus ride back to Davis H.S. he'd left early. Had he been wise, he would have thanked Taliyah for that accident of fate. On the plus side for that cocksucker, he was now the head of the football team as well as its star player.

The two showdowns in Ms. Blanchard's class? Those students would have to explain why it had happened, thus what they had been up to over the past few years. That was sexual assault, rape and blackmail and taking that wrap to avenge Darius wasn't in them. The beating up of the kids around Shaquille? Precisely what had those seven been up to jumping our basketball teammate anyway?

The carnage on the basketball court? That would imply one of the player confessing to stomping on Kaja. Both the team and the Assistant Coach were opposed to that exposure. No, it was the very erosion of trust that infected the BBC culture. Darius had gone from the Crown Prince to a 'what might have been' overnight. His former cronies felt zero loyalty to him anymore. Darius Pope had lost his luster. He was yesterday's news in the high school halls.

At this point in the inquiry had the Kingston elders admitted to the outsiders Darius was a scumbag, abusing women and men for his own selfish ends - a blackmailer and bully - the investigation might have gained traction. But they didn't. He was their flawless native son - utterly without fault. That led the investigation away from us. It turned out that other teams DID have a motive for hurting the football team in general, not just Darius. The coach had to admit to that - there was video evidence of his team's barbaric behavior.

The whole team were bastards on the field - half a dozen opposing coaches claimed as much and were vocally happy that such misfortune had befallen the evildoers of Davis High - karmic payback for their unsportsmanlike behavior. Did they know who the two (or three) 'agents of karma' had been? No idea. By that time, we had other worries. When the weekend was over it would be time to return to school - for all five of us.

{Not like any other Monday}

Monday, school life was adrift in the chaos left by Darius' abrupt departure. There was no clear successor, yet there were several contenders eager for the spot. None of them were White, but considering the school's racial makeup, it wasn't too surprising. There was also a sullen resentment against us, tempered by fear. It didn't take a first place winner at a school science fair for the students to figure out what had really happened.

Darius had put Alexander/Mikhail in the hospital and now he and six of his closest confederates were in various states of serious disrepair. Everyone knew that Darius wasn't going to be carrying any footballs this season, or maybe ever again. He had crossed the unspoken line between harassment and serious damage. Sure, the Black student body had participated in those punches, pokes and slurs.

Punishing 'Mikhail' had initially appeared to be justified ~ I had purloined Brandy and had gotten what I deserved for daring to dare. It had never occurred to anyone the meaner dogs in the fight weren't Darius Pope and his boys. Clearly, Darius had raised the level of 'acceptable' violence and they had blindly accepted his choice.

Monday morning, Darius was no longer among them and the whole school society was experiencing 'continental drift'. Even teachers were uncertain what to make of us. Only Ms. Blanchard looked openly relieved that today was no longer more of the same. We found that out right before we had another school communion under the tutelage of Principal Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges.

It was another exposition of what was wrong with this world and how he could fix it. The African-American Male Stereotype (aka the Football Team) had begotten violence from the entrenched White Establishment (even though there were no suspects, white or black, charged in the incident) in a never-ending cycle of brutality and suffering. The world would soon see the advent of the Brown Man ending the tyranny of White European cultural imperialism; not thru conflict, but thru the colored people's inherent spiritual superiority. Huh?

"I think we po' White folk done been insulted," Vicky whispered to our small group. She had spunk. She was also Kaelyne's best friend, which would be of more importance later today.

"Why doesn't he rail against patriarchal tyranny?" Kaelyne added.

"Because he's a man?" I offered.

"Exactly," she hissed.

"If there is so much White tyranny going on," Alexander coughed, "why am I in so much pain?"

"Because you don't know how to dodge, you knucklehead," Mikhail smirked. Dr. Pierre let his imperious gaze fall upon us, so we quieted. The rest was more of the same. We were idiots for solving problems with our fists and dicks ... blah, blah, blah. What were we supposed to be? Men with pussies? The Student Body was left largely in the dark about our fates, though it did take him an hour to lead us there.

Shaquille was at our lunch table once more, as was his girlfriend, Monique, and our teammate Kaja. That was comforting in more ways than one. Whatever had happened, they weren't ashamed, or afraid, to be seen with us. They didn't ask, so we didn't have to lie. We talked about upcoming tests, basketball practice and perhaps doing something this weekend. It was almost as if we were living in the 'new' normal.

A few cheerleaders slipped away from Brandy and Taliyah that day. It wasn't like the BBC had lost its magic. Addicts remained addicts, that cock was too good to pass up and once a girl had the taste ... they couldn't turn it down when offered. Mom's answer was a fuck-fest ... which was an idea we three boys balked at. That was when Mom had her first glimpse that Mikhail had a problem of the heart.

Only after she had pulled me aside for a chat/interrogation did she realize her own stupid mistake. Yes, Mom confessed to making an error in judgement. She'd realized that Taliyah was wild-spirited while not taking into consideration was exactly the type of woman my brother needed. That is what she said - 'needed'. That was so scary that I contemplated going behind Mom's back to warn Mikhail - almost.

I had been a good boy Friday night and criminal goings on had kept us apart Saturday and Sunday, so by Monday, Brandy was about to bust a gut. Taliyah had her own bonfire burning behind her eyes, even while she exhibited more self-control. Kaelyne and Vicky staying after school, trying to weasel in a ride, was a bit unlooked for.

"I thought we could hang out together," Kaelyne beamed. Vicky was not-so secretly amused. I repeat; she and Kaelyne were BEST friends.

"NO!" snapped Brandy. Everyone was looking at her. "I mean, we really need to do some studying. Really bad ..."

"I can help," Kaelyne refused to be dissuaded.

"Not with this, you can't," I muttered to myself. But I couldn't come up with a viable excuse to deny her, considering her rallying to our cause last week. "Sure," I said in a louder voice. Brandy shot me a desperate visual appeal.

"Taliyah, are you and Brandy still planning to spend the night to help us with that project?" Mikhail intervened.

"Well ... maybe," Taliyah smirked. "Brandy?"

"Hell yes," she glared at Kaelyne.

"Then we are all agreed," Kaelyne grinned. Off we went, packed in like sardines. Alexander had gone home with Ms. Blanchard. That still left us with Brandy, Taliyah, Kaja, Mikhail, Kaelyne, Vicky and me in a four person Shelby Mustang.

I dropped Kaja off first, as always. The trip home was more suspenseful than eventful. Victoria was unashamedly upbeat while Kaelyne was terribly high-strung. How she could miss the romantic situation between Brandy and I was a mystery. Only after homework, when we were getting ready for our workout and Mom got home, did any of it make sense. Instead of appearing as the majesty she normally projected to outsiders, she sneaked up on us all. She really was the Wicked Witch of the Ozarks! She must have been standing there for five minutes before she made her presence known by noisily clearing her throat.

"Brandy," Mom stated with authority.

"Yes Ma'am," she meekly responded.

"It is good to see you today. You too, Ms. Malik. Kaelyne and Victoria, it is nice to see you coming over as well. I hope my sons are making you feel welcome."

"Hello," Victoria and Kaelyne chorused. Taliyah settled for a wave.

"Kaelyne," Mom nodded, "why don't you come with me and get some drink for the company?"

"Me?"

"Unless you know of another girl in the county named Kaelyne?" Mom mused.