If Jesus Were Black: Chapter Five

It wasn’t even a week before Jesus walked right into trouble again. It was two in the morning and we were walking down 136th on the way back from one of Jay’s concerts. It was just me, the Three, and Jesus. And all of a sudden, Jesus decided to take a shortcut down an alley. By the time we made it to the middle, four guys with guns pulled out from behind a dumpster in front of us and four more came out behind us.

Why, Jesus? Why would you bring us through an alley?
“Whatchu doin’ out here, Jesus?” a voice said. And a tall man in a purple suit and purple pants stepped out of the shadows. He was holding a purple cane and even had a purple scarf wrapped around his neck. This was Ice Cold Chris. He single-handedly controlled the pimp game in Harlem. He was notorious for pimping out girls as young as eleven. And when they’d get too old for his clients—like twenty-five—he’d kill ’em.

“I’m walkin’ home,” Jesus replied, hands in His pockets as usual.
“Hmmm. Hmmmm.” Ice Cold Chris held his hands on his cane in front of him and looked Jesus up and down. He was acting tough, but we all knew this was an act. There’s a big difference between a pimp and a gang banger. Gang bangers attack men and women. Pimps attack women. Because there’s only one thing that a pimp can never stand up to—a strong man.

“That’s a nice jacket,” Ice Cold Chris said. “Where’d You get it?”
“A friend gave it to Me,” Jesus replied.
“That’s funny. I gave a friend a jacket just like that.”
“I guess she must not be your friend anymore.”
Ice Cold Chris snickered and looked at his goons next to him. “How ‘bout this? You’re gonna take that jacket off or I’m gonna take it off for you.”

“How ‘bout this instead?” Jesus said back. “You’re gonna leave this city or I’mma make you leave.”

Ice Cold Chris threw his head back and laughed. “You a comedian too.” Then he stepped forward and swung his cane at Jesus’ face. Jesus dodged the swing then hit him with a mean left hook.

Ice Cold Chris staggered backwards and his goons aimed their guns at Jesus. But before anybody could shoot, Ice Cold Chris suddenly dropped to his knees and screamed at the top of his lungs. I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck and it took me back to that night on the playground with Rico. The goons dropped their guns and stared at their boss in shock.

Jesus stepped closer and we all watched as Ice Cold Chris’ face went from brown to white with blue veins popping all over his cheeks. Then his nose and his eyes started bleeding, his eyeballs went black, and his skin turned into scales.

“YOOO!” Peter jumped back. “What is that?!”
James and John jumped back with him, but I was too shook to move. Rico had been possessed by a demon. But apparently, Ice Cold Chris was a demon. And Jesus had him in some kind of psychic-spiritual choke hold.

Ice Cold Chris was gasping for air and reaching for his throat, but it looked like his arms were fighting against invisible weights hanging on them. His back started to arch into a C and he went on gagging and choking with Jesus watching with a straight face.

Finally, Jesus leaned in then spoke into his ear. “Mary’s with Me now. So don’t ever. Touch her. Again.”

Then He stood straight and Ice Cold Chris’ back slowly straightened out so he was facing Jesus.

Jesus cracked His knuckles in front of Ice Cold Chris as He stared down at him. “Tell your friends about Me.” Then He hit him with a vicious hook to his jaw and his body exploded into a pile of ash.

Needless to say, pimpin’ was never the same in Harlem after that.

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