Grove Street Forever | By : DeadManScrawling Category: +G through L > Grand Theft Auto Views: 3452 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own GTA San Andreas or its characters and settings it belongs to Rockstar Games, I make no money from this story. |
Grove Street Forever
Introduction:
Leaving Liberty City
Liberty City, Francis International Airport, 13.00, Saturday, June 13th, 1992
“I’ve gotta go, Tru. The plane leaves in an hour.” CJ said as he held his girlfriend close, his lips lightly brushing hers. He wasn’t used to showing his feelings so closely in public, especially not with the hundreds of people about that were passing through the airport.
“Do you really have to leave, Carl? We were just getting things sorted out. I thought …, well I thought, maybe …, one day …, we’d get married. We’ve been seeing each other for three years now, Carl. Sooner or later you’re going to have to decide what’s important to you. I thought you’d left your old life behind.” She whispered in his ear for only him to hear. She put great emphasis on the suggestion of marriage and waited curiously and somewhat apprehensively for his answer.
“You know why I have to go, Tru. My Mom’s dead. I gotta go to the funeral. As for marriage, I don’t know. Maybe we can talk when I get back. I’m not thinking straight at the moment. You know I love you, Tru. But this conversation will have to wait for another day. Maybe you can travel down to visit with Tony and Lucita. They’ll be coming down to San Andreas in a week.” Carl suggested, hoping she would let him go without any more hassle or her usual guilt trip that she liked to pull on him whenever she wasn’t getting her way.
“You know I can’t. I have to work for at least the next month. I’ve got a big promotion coming up and can’t risk losing out. Just because you decided to up and go to the other side of the damn country.”
“That’s not fuckin’ fair, Tru. If your Moms died you’d be straight there too, so don’t lay this fuckin’ shit on me now. I’ve got enough to worry about. I didn’t exactly leave under the best of circumstances. Sweet still blames me for Brian’s death. I left soon after and haven’t spoken to him since. He isn’t exactly going to be pleased to see me. I just got too much shit to worry about without having to think about getting married or …” Tru cut him off, her face crimson with anger.
“Or have to worry about my feelings. Is that what you were going to say? Damn you, Carl, I gave up a relationship to be with you. At least do me the courtesy …”
“I’ve had it with this shit, Tru. If you can’t deal with this, then I don’t know, maybe we should think about cooling it for awhile. Besides, once you get this big fucking promotion. You ain’t gonna want to be seen with some ex gang banger from San Andreas. You’ll be runnin’ with the big dogs then, shit …, I bet you already think you’re too fuckin’ good for me. Now I don’t mind that shit. Maybe I did score high when us too started seeing each other. And I couldn’t believe my luck, but it’s not all about you, Tru. Sometimes you’re just a spoilt little rich bitch with no fuckin’ clue about how tough life can be for other people.” He replied angrily. Tru pushed him away from her, a look of disbelief on her face as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You want to cool things? I can’t believe your doing this to me right before my promotion. You’re not the only one with worries you know. And since when did you think I was just a spoilt little rich bitch? I guess it’s all coming out now isn’t it, Carl. Daddy always said you weren’t good enough for me, but I thought I’d give you the chance to prove yourself, but in the end …, you really are just a common little thug, a no good gang banger from San Andreas. I should have known it was a waste of time. Don’t expect me to be waiting for you when you get back, Carl. If you get on that plane, then we are finished.”
“Fuck you, you uppity little fuckin’ whore. Why don’t you go the fuck back to daddy? I always thought you two were too fucking close for comfort. Fuck knows what you two sick fuckers are up to …”
“I’m just glad it’s all out in the open now, Carl. Now I see what a petty little, foul mouthed hoodlum you really are. Don’t ever call me again, if I ever hear from you again I’ll call the police and have a restraining order brought against you. Now I’m going, I’m calling William and accepting his offer of a date, heaven knows he’s been more than patient enough with me these last six months.”
“So it’s straight from daddy to the boss, daddy’s favourite pet ass kisser. Bitch, you fuckers deserve each other. Now get the fuck out of here, you can get you’re shit out of my apartment as well.”
“Your apartment? You mean that rat infested flea pit you call home, gladly. Carl, it really is a good thing your old witch of a mother died, or I would have found out too late what you were really like. And don’t expect me to give those loser friends of yours a ride home. If nothing else I can’t wait to see their common little ugly faces when you tell them they’ll be walking home. I won’t have my car infested with your grotty friends. It was bad enough on the way here. You can tell them that from me, now I really am going, have a terrible journey, Carl, maybe I’ll get lucky and the plane will crash.”
“What a fuckin’ warped little daddy’s whore you turned out to be. Fuck, to think I nearly ended up marrying you. Talk about hell on fuckin’ earth. Well go then, bitch. Turn you’re fucking bony ass around and walk out the fuckin’ door.”
“Hmmmpp.” Tru turned and stormed off, completely ignoring Tony and Lucita as they approached her to find out what was happening.
“Hey, bro. What the fuck did you say to little miss I’m too good for the likes of you?”
“Hey, Tony, wassup. Let’s just say we parted ways before it was too late and there was no way back.”
“Shit, bro. I wish I was coming with you now. If I’d known you were ditching the Queen of fucking Sheba I’d have had a party arranged.”
“Before you too idiots go planning anything, don’t you think you’d better get on the plane, Carl.” Lucita said smiling.
“I guess it’s time to go. See you in a week, bro, if you can make it down there. You too, Lucita, you both always welcome in San Andreas.”
“Ahhhh, I think I’m gonna get all soggy eyed.” Tony said and burst out laughing.
“Be careful down there, Carl. Try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, mom. Shit, anyone would think I’m going for the rest of my fuckin’ life. Well I’d better get going, see you two in a week. Oh, by the way, you’d better get a cab home. The bitch isn’t going to wait for you.”
“No problem, bro. She was always fucking complaining we messed up her ride or stunk it out with cigarette smoke. You’re better off without the bitch, man.”
“No shit, bro. See ye next week.” Carl hugged them both and watched as they made their way out of the airport. Within minutes he was checking in his luggage and watching it disappear on the conveyor belt.
He thought for a moment. Finally after five years on the East Coast away from home, friends and family, it was time to go home. He didn’t know what to expect or what kind of reception he would receive, he’d find out when he arrived and deal with any problems when they occurred. If nothing else came of it, he’d at least have the chance to say his goodbye’s to his Mom and younger brother.
San Andreas, Los Santos International Airport 19.30, Saturday, June 13th, 1992
Six and half hours later, Carl was getting impatient and was ready to get home. One good thing to come out of the flight was the phone number of one of the air stewardesses, Rochelle, or so she claimed was her name. He promised to look her up if he was ever in her part of town.
He took his luggage and walked out of the airport to see if he could get a taxi cab. Before he had stepped outside his cell phone rang.
‘”Sup?” Carl asked.
“Carl, it's Sweet.”
“Wassup, Sweet? It’s been a long time, bro, what you want?”
“It's Moms... She's dead, bro.”
“I know that, Sweet, that’s why I’m on my way back home.”
“So you got Kendl’s letter then, she said she’d wrote to you. This changes nothing between us bro.”
“We can sort out this shit when I get home, Sweet.”
“So when yo’ leaving, you’ll miss the funeral.”
“I’ve just got in, I’m at the airport. I’ll get a cab home and see you there.”
“I might be at the cemetery when you get back, I’ll see you later, Carl. I just thought you should know about Moms, even if yo’ did run out on your family.”
“Ah fuck this shit, Sweet. I ain’t going over this again, I’ll see you later.” Carl replied then hung up, angry that he hadn’t even reached home yet and already he was arguing with his older brother.
A half hour later the cab was approaching Grove Street, Ganton, Los Santos. Just as he was beginning to relax and take in the old familiar sight of his home town, another familiar sound erupted somewhat abruptly and startled him into realisation. Sirens, police sirens, he hadn’t even got home yet and already they were on his case.
The taxi cab pulled up at the side of the road. Carl watched as two police officers got out of the police car, their guns pointed in his direction. Suddenly a third cop appeared, he spoke through a loud hailer, Carl recognised the voice immediately.
“Passenger, show us your hands.” Officer Frank Tenpenny said.
Carl exited the cab, his hands raised above his head and slowly walked backwards towards the police car.
“Stop. Get down on your knees. Now down on your stomach.” Officer Tenpenny said as the other two officers slowly approached him with their guns pointed at his head.
Carl did what he was told by Tenpenny. He knew better than to argue with an evil bastard like Frank Tenpenny, and the last thing he intended to do was get his head shot off for bad mouthing these mother fuckers. Carl laid there waiting while they searched him, knowing they were going to find his money. Seconds later, officer Hernandez pulled a wad of over a thousand dollars from Carl’s pocket.
“There you go. I'll take that, Hernandez.” Tenpenny said with a sneer. Officer Hernandez handed the money to Tenpenny.
“Hey, that's my paper, man. That's money. There’s over a thousand dollars there, I need that shit. You can’t just take my paper, man.” Carl complained, knowing it would do him no good whatsoever.
“This is drug money. Where else would a little gang banging piece of shit like you get so much money from, Carl.” Tenpenny questioned.
“My money, man.” Carl offered weakly without explanation.
“Hey, don't worry about it. I'll fill it out later. You can always make a complaint if you like, Carl.” Officer Eddie Pulaski said, emphasising his name. The two officers pulled Carl to his feet as Officer Tenpenny approached him, Carl’s hand were cuffed behind his back.
“Welcome home, Carl. Glad to be back?” Tenpenny asked.
“You haven't forgotten about us, have you boy?” Tenpenny asked again, holding up the roll of money they had just taken from him as if to emphasise he somehow owed them his money.
“Hell no, Officer Tenpenny. I was just wondering what took y'all so long.”
“Get in the car.” Tenpenny said as the other two officers roughly push him towards the back seat of the police car.
“Ease up, man. Damn.” Carl complained.
“Watch your head.” Tenpenny said as Carl hit his head while climbing into the back seat of the cop car.
“Oh! My bad.” Tenpenny joked as Pulaski sniggered at Carl’s predicament.
“Get outta here, you greaseball bastard!” Pulaski yelled at cab driver.
“Fucking stupid Mexican.” Pulaski looked at Hernandez, “Oh, hey, sorry.” Pulaski laughed as the three police officers got into the car. Carl watched as the cab drove off, his bag still on the back seat.
“My bag. Hey, man, my bag!” Carl complained loudly. They just looked at him and smiled, no one answered.
Minutes later and Carl was getting worried, the cop car was entering Ballas territory, sworn enemies of the Grove Street Families.
“How you been, Carl? How's your wonderful family?” Tenpenny asked smugly.
“I'm here to bury my Moms. You know that.” Carl replied, trying not to get distracted at the sight of the hooker walking down the street.
“Yeah, I guess I do. So what else you got shakin' Carl?” Tenpenny questioned.
“Nothing. I live in Liberty City now. I'm clean. Legit.” Carl replied.
“No, you ain't never been clean, Carl.”
“Well, what've we got here?” Pulaski pulls out a gun, seemingly from nowhere, and waves in front of Carl. Carl looked at the weapon and then dumbfounded with exasperation he stared out of the window at the freight train passing over the crossing.
“This is a weapon, Officer Pulaski. That was used to gun down a police officer not ten minutes ago. Officer Pendelbury. A fine man, I might add. You work fast, nigga.” Tenpenny said.
“You know I just got off the plane.” Carl reminded him, knowing it would do no good.
“It's a good thing we found you and retrieved the murder weapon.” Pulaski said.
“That ain't my gun.” Carl argued.
“Don't bullshit me, Carl.” Tenpenny said, raising his voice.
“Yeah, don't bullshit him, Carl.” Pulaski joined in, seemingly enjoying watching Carl squirm.
“What the fuck you want from me this time?” Carl questioned.
“When we want you, we'll find you. In the meantime, try not to gun down any more officers of the law.” Tenpenny began slowly laughing.
“You can't leave me here. It's Ballas' country.” Carl insisted, knowing what would happen if he was caught in Ballas territory.
“I thought you said you was innocent, Carl? That you don't bang?” Carl shivered as the cop car pulled into a quiet alleyway, he waited for the worst.
“This is car 58...” Pulaski said over the police radio.
“See you around, like a donut, Carl.” Tenpenny said laughing.
Carl braces himself as the door opens and he is pushed out while the car cruises along.
“What? Officer Pendelbury's down? We'll be right over.” Pulaski replied over the police radio. The police car disappeared out of sight.
“Ah shit, here we go again. Worst place in the world. Rollin Heights, Ballas country. I ain't represented Grove Street in five years, but the Ballas won't give a shit.” Carl whispered to himself, frantically looking around the alley to see what situation they had left him in. He carefully made his way down the alley. It looked like he was in luck. A mountain bike was propped up against a wall, dumb fuckers, he thought to himself, what stupid fuck leaves a bike just laying around for someone to steal.
He picked up the bike got the feel of it and was then on his way within moments, carefully checking for gang bangers as he approached the end of the alleyway. It wasn’t long before he saw them. He counted twelve, all dressed in the typical purple gang colours of the Ballas. Shit, they were drawing guns, shouting something about the bike.
He peddled like a mad man, trying to get his bearings and head towards Grove Street. A few bullets flew wide past his head. He peddled for all he was worth, trying to put some distance between himself and those chasing him. He weaved in and out of cars as motorists began to panic as they saw the gang approaching firing blindly into the oncoming traffic. Within seconds sirens sounded and the gang scattered in all directions. He breathed a sigh of relief and promised himself the next opportunity he got he would take his frustrations out on some Ballas dickheads. He pulled up at the side of the road, his wallet uncomfortably moving around inside his boxer shorts. At least they didn’t get everything he had on him, even those fucked up bastards wouldn’t search inside his pants, at least he hoped they wouldn’t. Still it wasn’t much, 350 dollars left to his name, he was going to have to get some money from somewhere fast, or he’d be starving within a few weeks. Fuckin’ welcome home, Carl, he thought bitterly to himself, somethings never changed.
Twenty minutes later.
“Grove Street, home. At least it was before I fucked everything up.” Carl said to himself, as he approached the welcoming sight of Grove Street. It was just as he remembered it. A shitty run down neighbourhood full of drugged up young punks and burnt out cars, bullet ridden houses rotting and forgotten by the outside world.
It was good to be back.
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