Born in the Reagan era and raised in the grimiest part of the City of Wilmington, Taheed Nav'ier Styles had to learn the true sacrifices of gaining and losing the most irreplaceable pieces to his heart throughout his journey through adolescence and adulth

Never Shed A Tear

The Untold Story of Taheed StylesBy Vincent Greene Sr.

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Vincent Greene Sr.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-4870-6

Contents

Acknowledgments....................................................................................viiPrologue...........................................................................................ixChapter 1. "I'm Having Nightmares".................................................................1Chapter 2. "Silenced Curiosity"....................................................................8Chapter 3. "Mathematics of a Hustler"..............................................................14Chapter 4. "Time 2 Come Up"........................................................................19Chapter 5. "On Ma Block"...........................................................................29Chapter 6. Stand Alone.............................................................................39Chapter 7. "Open Season"...........................................................................47Chapter 8. "Disturbed".............................................................................52Chapter 9. "Me Against Hellaware"..................................................................56Chapter 10. "Boom ... Boom ... Boom"...............................................................62Chapter 11. "Murda After Midnight ... You Can Say It Was A Murda By A Lunatic".....................68Chapter 12. "Get Back ... Get Back"................................................................76Chapter 13. "Right Connect, Wrong Company".........................................................79Chapter 14. "It'z Goin D-Down".....................................................................85Chapter 15. "The Sweetest Joy Next to Gett'N Pussy ... "Revenge"...................................90Chapter 16. "Fair Exchange, No Robbery"............................................................101Chapter 17. "Trust, Loyalty, & Respect"............................................................106Chapter 18. "Back 2 Da Block"......................................................................112Chapter 19. "Testers ... Testers"..................................................................118Chapter 20. "It Ain't Personal"....................................................................128Chapter 21. "Operation Shut Down"..................................................................134Chapter 22. "Hustle & Bubble"......................................................................140Chapter 23. "Secrets of A Gangsta".................................................................150About the Author...................................................................................161

Chapter One

"I'm Having Nightmares"

"Daddy stop, you killing her, you killing her," I shouted.

My mother was on the floor with two bear size claws around her windpipe. I watched in awe as my mother slowly faded away from life, and for that one second, I wished for God to grant me the strength to knock him from over top of her helpless figure. Instead, all I could do was yell to the top of my lungs, "mommmm". Growing weaker and breathless, she just faded, unconsciously as her body went limp.

"Mommmm!" I yelled once again. The sound of my voice must've had power because it reached her in demand of a response. Her eyes popped open and were bloodshot red like a blood clog. She looked me in my eye briefly then again her twenty-three year old frame went completely limp and her body fell flat out.

Cursing, raging, and shouting in deep belief that was the end of my mother's precious life, my father picked me up off of my mother's body to calm me down. At the same time this crazy motherfucker was actually laughing like the incident which just occurred was extremely hilarious and entertaining. So my only reaction to his reaction was to react in more of a painful rage.

"Get the fuck off me!" I cursed at my father. He just laughed more and picked me up off of my feet while collaring me up by my t-shirt.

"Taheed, calm your ass down and shut the fuck up," he demanded. But it was useless.

"No, you killed my mom. Let me go!" I squirmed in attempts to break free of his handle.

"Boy shut up, calm your little ass down ... she gone be alright," Veto barked.

I wasn't trying to hear that shit though. So I kept kicking and trying to pull his hands from my shirt. He just stared at me then dropped me. I ran over to my mom and tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't come to. Veto stood in the doorway smoking a joint still smiling while chasing his every drag of the spliff with a shot of some knotty head rum.

"Come on son, you going next door to Channelle's house for a little while until your mom wake up. Me and her need to talk."

I stubbornly shook my head in disagreement not wanting to comply, but that only made Veto roughly grab my seven year old frame away from my mother's body. He literally had to carry me out of the house and over to our neighbor's house. I resisted by biting, kicking, and shouting every step of the way. Unfortunately, none of it worked. He dropped me off like it was nothing. Ms. Channelle took me to a family cookout that day. It was a lot of kids there my age, so eventually I loosened up and began to mingle amongst the people. It wasn't until nightfall when Ms. Channelle decided to take me home. For the entire time I was with her, never did I once mention the fight my parents had.

"Here, give this bag to your mother and tell her and your father that I said you're welcome anytime, alright?" she spoke as I exited her car.

"O.k. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Ms. Channelle," I shouted joyously, happy to be returning home.

Greeted by a smiling mother in the front doorway, I quickly lit up like a 150-watt light bulb in a dark, secluded area then jumped in my mother's arms. I was happy like never before as I observed my mother's smiling face in front of me, after what took place earlier today. "Did you have fun with Ms. Channelle?" my mother asked while reaching for the plastic bag in my hand. "What's that Boop? Ooh she gave you some clothes."

"Yeah mom, can I try them on?" I asked.

"Yeah go ahead," she insisted.

Out of curiosity, due to the quietness in our home, I asked my mother, "where dad at?"

Sitting back on the couch in a relaxed and stress-free zone, my mom just hunched her shoulders slightly as if to say "don't know, don't care".

Acceptable answer I thought. "I hope he never come back," I mumbled.

"Me too," my mother replied.

"Can I wear this one tomorrow mom?"

"If that's what you wanna wear," she responded.

I playfully walked through the living room as if I was on a male runway, modeling new school clothes for juniors. I'm laughing while homeboy strutting, making my mother smile happily as she enjoyed the moment. Then suddenly a car door slammed. We paused for a minute and just that quick the happy mood changed. Moments later, the front door of our freshly rented row house swung open, only for us to see who else walk through the doorway, Veto. He carried a Chiquita fruit box in with him. He was a union worker at the Port of Wilmington, earning every bit of seventeen to twenty-seven dollars an hour, five to seven days a week.

"Here, take this box in the kitchen," he demanded after dropping the box in front of me.

Smiling at my mother, Veto walked over to kiss her then he took a seat next to her. Some big Italian guy was with him also. He took a seat on the recliner then opened a can of beer he pulled out of the brown paper bag that he carried on him.

"How you feel baby?" Veto asked my mother.

"I'm alright. How was work?" she responded while acting concerned just to ease the tension she felt wanting to rise.

Veto's days must've been hard at work because when he came home from work his attitude was normally in the mode of a ticking time bomb. He just couldn't wait to find something to fuss about.

"Dad I went to a cookout today with Ms. Channelle, and she gave me some new school clothes," I spoke as if he cared.

"Oh yeah," he spit back looking like he hated me. I felt the vibe so I grabbed my outfits then headed up to my bedroom.

"Are you ready for your bath?" my mother asked after sneaking up behind me. She tickled me then fell with me on the bed, the whole time laughing and expressing her motherly love.

"Yes mommmeeeee, yes," I blurted loudly, smothered in laughter.

As she went to go run my bath water, I drifted off into a daze while sitting on the foot of my bed. Staring around the tiny, wood paneled back room, I wondered deeply and wished for a home sweet home....

* * *

"Bitch what the fuck did I tell you?"

"Veto I just came in the house right before you. I didn't have time to fix you lunch," my mother pleaded.

"Bitch where the fuck you been at? You been with that big, black, ass nigga all day? Is that why my lunch ain't ready yet bitch ... huh?" Veto shouted as he smacked my mother around the living room.

"No Veto stop, please stop," my mother pleaded.

"Bitch, take your motherfucking clothes off," Veto shouted.

"What?" My mother responded in shock.

"Take your motherfucking clothes off bitch ... you heard me," Veto snapped then roughly ripped my mother's blouse off and began yanking her pants down.

My mother cried helplessly and continued to plead with him in hopes of him stopping, but Veto was too far gone in his Ike Turner zone to listen.

Quickly, I banged on the window where I watched from the porch. "Daddy, please don't hurt my mom," I begged.

"Boy what the fuck you doing home so early?" I could tell Veto was pissed even more from the sight of me, as he moved towards the front door. As soon as it opened, he snatched me in the house.

"Why the fuck is you home from school so early? You got suspended again this week?" he threateningly questioned while making sure my eyes stared directly into his, which were bloodshot red.

"No we had a half day," I responded with a hard swallow.

"Well go up to your room. Me and your mom talking right now," he instructed.

I wanted to go over and hug my mother so I stepped one step at a time with a sad puppy dog expression on my face.

"I'm alright Boop," my mother softly spoke as to assure me mommy can handle it, but I knew that she couldn't handle the situation, at least not for much longer.

Sitting at the foot of my bed with my feet swinging, I listened to every word of my parents' conversation. I could hear my father as he apologized for his misbehavior. As always, my mother found it in her heart to forgive him. Veto kissed my mother then headed out the front door. He was only home on a forty-five minute lunch break so he had to go back to work. Meeting me at the bottom of the steps were embarrassing arms as my mom's tight hug expressed a sign of hurt, pain, and a sigh of relief. Again, she assured me she was alright and that pretty soon all of the madness would be over. By me having so much faith and belief in my mother's words, I trusted her every verbal promise. To assure her of that I kissed her right cheek, gave her a big hug, and then strongly spoke, "I love you mommy".

"Aww, at least somebody loves me. I love you too Boop and don't you ever forget that o.k.?" my mother hugged me.

"I won't mommy. Guess what I did in school today?"

"What Boop?" she questioned eagerly.

"I colored this for you". I handed her a picture.

"Ooh, thank you. It's so pretty".

It was a picture drawn by me of me and my mother standing in front of our new house as I imagined it to look.

"Where's your daddy?" she asked curiously.

"In hell with Satan, and his friends," I responded seriously, never taking my eyes off of the picture as my mother held it.

"You're not supposed to talk like that about your dad. Who told you to say that?" she asked with a slight laugh.

"Nobody, I always have dreams about daddy dying and going to hell". Quietness filled the entire house for almost twenty seconds until my mother asked me if I were hungry.

* * *

Approximately an hour later while I sat on the couch watching cartoons, and my mother talked on the phone to my aunt about who knows what, the man of the house walked in along with his Italian friend trailing right behind him.

"Little Veto, how are you my friend?" Vinny spoke while rubbing my head in the same form I rubbed my Granny's dog.

"Hey Mr. Vinny," I responded. "Hi dad," I greeted my father.

"Hey son. Where's your mom at?"

"I'm in the kitchen. Don't you smell the food cooking?" my mother voiced from the kitchen.

Sitting down in his lazy boy after her response, Veto pulled a beer out of the brown paper bag he carried in from work. In relax mode after a few sips of beer, Veto began scratching lottery tickets while conversing with his Italian friend. They were laughing crazily about an incident which took place on the jobsite earlier that day. Once Veto realized he didn't win any money from the scratch-off tickets, he reclined then began to dig in his nostrils.

"Go out there with your mom for a minute," he demanded as he pulled a sandwich bag from out of the brown paper bag.

My dad had a dope, coke, alcohol and weed habit, so usually when he had company and made me exit the room that meant it was time for his illegal activities to take place.

* * *

"Was dinner good Boop?" my mother asked while tucking me in and kissing me good night.

"Every time you cook its good mommy," I smiled.

"I love you Boop," my mother assured me. "And don't forget to say your prayers," she reminded me as she turned the light out and pulled the door semi-closed.

"O.k. mommy, good night," I mumbled while drifting off into a happier zone.

I began dreaming of peace and heaven. Deep into the night, my sleep was disrupted by outrageous screams.

"Stop, stop, please just stop Veto! Will you just leave?" my mother pleaded.

At first I thought I was just dreaming so I laid there in the dark trying to go back to the happier dreams, but come to find out this wasn't a dream. It was really happening again. Veto was in his 'Ike Turner' zone for more than likely no apparent reason. From my bedroom door I could hear slaps, screams, punches, kicks, struggles, glass breaking and appliances being knocked over. Quickly, I ran down the steps only to see my father throwing our living room television at my mother, who was completely topless and bleeding from numerous spots on her body. I couldn't even react. I just sat on the stairs and watched the commotion. It sounded as if it was a lot of people in our house fighting. At that instant, a quick chill shot through my body. That's when I raised up and headed towards my parents bedroom closet. I struggled while reaching for a shoebox on the top shelf, but eventually after a few seconds, I got it. While removing the top off of the shoebox, I could still hear screams and obscene remarks so I grabbed the black nine millimeter my father purchased just in case we were ever burglarized. Its purpose was about to change though. Now after preparing the pistol for firing, I exited the bedroom then headed down the steps. Meeting me halfway still running scared and screaming for help was my mother. After catching visual sight of the gun in my right hand, my mother snatched it from my possession only to turn in a complete circle and squeeze the trigger as she fell up the steps backwards.

"Mommy, watch out," I yelled as my father viciously grabbed at her.

She screamed while squeezing the trigger with the gun pointed in his direction. She released numerous shots and in slow motion all I could see was fire leaping from the front of the gun. Sparks lit up the stairwell sort of like a disco light. My father took every shot still standing tall as if each bullet was just a 'b.b.'. Click, click, click ... click, click, click ... click. My mother was in a complete trance, shocked and still pulling the trigger of the empty gun, which was still smoking from the barrel. As we watched my father fight for his last breaths, he stared up at both of us, then fell to his knees at the bottom of the steps. Staring up and reaching towards us, he uttered, "I ... I ... love y'all". Those were his last words as his body fell flat out.

Embracing me in her arms, my mother held me tight as she cried while rocking back and forth still holding the gun in her uncontrollable, shaking hand. With a rapid heartbeat, she uttered, "Veto why ... why couldn't you just leave?"

My mother was badly shaken by the situation, but me, I guess you can say I sat there with a blank expression on my face knowing this wouldn't be the last time I saw a dead man's body sprawled out in front of me. The only words that found their way out of my mouth were, "It won't be the same in hell".

With that, I held my mother tighter as she cried and continued to rock back and forth. From that day forth, I knew my life would be filled with tragedies. I'm Taheed Styles and here's how it all went down.

Chapter Two

"Silenced Curiosity"

On a cool, relaxed September evening, I sat on the porch of Granny's house and pondered on a come-up plan. Granny's house was dead smack in the middle of the hood, far from what life was like when I lived with my parents on the Westside. Over the past few years, I saw so many deaths and near death beat downs that it became a normal everyday thing to me. Sitting on Granny's stoop, I learned so much about the drug game, and witnessed a lot of shootings and stabbings to a point where as though I began thinking this is how life is supposed to be. Nonetheless, my focus was different. From my uncle's influence, I only had one thing on my mind and that was money.

"Come in the house so you can eat dinner baby," Granny loudly voiced from the dining room. She placed my plate full of southern ingredients on the dining room table. Granny, born Antoinette Murray, was long divorced from my grandfather whom I never met in my entire eleven years of life, never. But he's supposed to be my mother's biological father. He, along with Granny, was born in Mobile, Alabama.

"Your mother called today. I told her you were outside somewhere so she said she'll call back this evening when she thinks you're in the house".

"Did she sound like she's doing better?" I asked.

"Oh she sounded much better today ... like she's coming along real well".

"That's what's up Granny. I can't wait 'til she comes home. I'm gonna buy her a real big house, watch," I spoke with confidence plus a mouthful of food. Silence filled the entire house as me and Granny stuffed our mouths with delicious baked turkey wings smothered in gravy, cabbage on the side, fresh baked biscuits, macaroni and cheese, collard greens seasoned just right, candied yams, potato salad, and a nice tall ice cold glass of that 'ghetto grape' kool-aid. You would have thought it was Thanksgiving or Christmas, but it wasn't. Granny just brought her southern ways to the city. She mostly cooked this way on her days off which normally came around every blue moon. Granny worked as a Psychiatric Assistant at the Delaware State Hospital, and she worked the eleven to seven shift faithfully like it was going out of style.

"What's up Uncle Mack?" I greeted Uncle Mack with a pound.

"Hey what's happening baby," he shot back jokingly as he headed straight in the kitchen.

"Wash your hands before you get to touching them pots and digging through that food," Granny shouted with a mouthful of food.

"Alright mom ... I know already," he shot back with a tone of irritation.

"Where have you been at all day?" Granny curiously questioned Mack's whereabouts.

"I've been down the park playing ball with Tobias and Lamont".

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Never Shed A Tearby Vincent Greene Sr. Copyright © 2012 by Vincent Greene Sr.. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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