Play My Hand

About the Book

Ray Ray, as his mother called him home as the streetlights came on, excelled in school. He won spelling bees and writing contests even as a young boy. After school one day while his mother worked a second job to keep the lights on for he and his younger sister Tomika, Raymond meandered down the block at the beckoning of one of the “thugs” and “good for nothing” and “hoodlums” his other strongly warned him to stay away from. It was getting dark and the older boy from down the street who liked Old English 800 straight from the 40oz bottle, ushered Raymond into his backyard where a party was going on. This place was familiar and menacing. He knew all and all were what his mom called “dirty niggas”. Ray Ray’s aunt Paula was the lively one of the family who exuded rebellion and triumph at doing it her vibrant way. Paula and his mother Valerie were close. They were the two oldest sisters of ten and neither took any mess from anyone. Men were trampled underfoot or fought fiercely with words, action and an occasional butcher knife. His mom owned a gun and Paula once threw a man off a second story balcony. Ray Ray was in the ninth grade when a speeding car struck Paula. Someone near the scene said seemed to be heading straight for her. The paramedics said she was strong and held on longer than they expected. His mom took Paula’s death hard and fell into a deep depression. The household fell apart at the seams. Tomika was the first to go. She went to live with relatives in the valley. They had a pool, which was cool. Raymond’s mom thought it would be a good idea to ship him off to live with his paternal grandmother in the hopes he’d be nearer his father who he’d only briefly lived with sporadically before some infraction sent him back to his mom. Raymond’s nearness to his father via his grandmother’s house proved to have the opposite effect. Four of his uncles raised by this grandmother were notorious gangsters, players, and dope dealers. The whole block was a festive atmosphere of Reagan’s 80’s crack fiend heaven. It wouldn’t be long before the pull of easy sex and money to corrupt a 14 year-old boy. It wouldn’t be that much longer after the corruption that he would be arrested and absent anyone claiming guardianship, introduced into the foster care system. After a tour of foster homes, group boys’ homes, and a brief stint with and abusive later confirmed certifiably crazy fake aunt, Raymond found himself back at his grandmother’s house on 41st Street. Now 17 years old he was back to reclaim the throne of neighborhood kingpin and basking in the glow of his families’ reputation. “I had always wondered where she disappeared to when she turned the corner. She lived one block over across Figueroa in an upstairs duplex with a balcony. She had on a flowery summer dress when the door opened. As she led me up the stairs I was engulfed in her sweet scent. The apartment was nicely furnished. A long hallway led to a back bedroom where I assumed the kids were asleep. Her king size bed was situated in the front room attached to the balcony. She handed me a bar of soap that smelled of lavender and pointed me seductively towards the shower. There was a robe for me hanging behind the bathroom door. As I lathered and rinsed I calmed myself saying this is what happens to real players. I felt a secret kinship with all the hustlers I emulated including my uncle R.L. Before I left off the block I saw him pull into my Grandma Dot’s driveway in a clean metallic blue convertible Corvette. Add that to his smoke gray chrome rimmed Astro van and the cocaine white Rolls Royce, which made him the richest man I knew and my motivation. With that I emerged from the bathroom ready to receive what I had coming as an up and coming player in the game . . . She was more beautiful that I remembered standing on that corner. We made small talk as the marijuana invaded my brain and relaxed me into a state of humorous euphoria . .

About the Author

Raymond Cooks was born in Los Angeles, California. Excerpts of his memoir have previously been published in The Sun Magazine. He has 6 feature length screenplays to his credit and is currently completing his second book, a novel entitled Watermelon Summer. He is currently incarcerated at Pleasant Valley State Prison in Coalinga, California.