Picasso Love

By Arthur F. McCune

Zain John Michaels was no ordinary kid or adult. As a stillborn, the universe endowed him with the gift, spirit, and artistry of Picasso. Growing up in the big city with a job as a paperboy in his family’s newspaper delivery business, he and his favorite client, Mrs. Baugh, quickly became the best of friends. Unaware that Mrs. Baugh was a wealthy widow who was close to the last days of her life, she willed Zain a large sum of money to help him in his quest to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, own the nicest jazz radio station, and become the world’s best pool player.

Being in a good close-knit family, learning the game of pool from his father John, scrutinizing the paintings of Picasso through a magnifying glass—along with self-motivation, focus, determination, and the study of geometry and physics—Zain’s journey through life to fulfill his passions came to a pause. Losing loved ones deeply depressed him, causing him to face away from the world.

The loving-kindness of his family, Winston—a true childhood friend—and a heaven sent new love in the beauty of Summer Rain, reignited his passion and spirit to continue his quest with ultimate focus, training, practice, and determination to become the master of the pool game as he was preparing for something in the end that he was not aware of—save his mother, humanity, and the game of pool from the vicious kingpin of the game’s underworld.

From being called Stick, Cue, Nighze, and sometimes Picasso B, Zain John showed the world he was more than just the best artist of the game of pool. He was a loving, caring, kind, giving person with style, class, finesse, and the gift of a personality and infectious attitude that became admired across the world.

Want to connect with Arthur to learn more about how he maintains his youthful look, streamlined, muscular tight physique, and his good looks in his senior years? He welcomes your connecting with him at [e-mail]

Arthur anticipates soon getting back to blogging on his established blogspot; www.achievetomorrow.blogspot.com where he’ll promote jazz, style, dressing well, utopia and underground rhythm and blues, men’s skin care, men’s health products, and keep you updated on what’s happening with him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781662408816

Book preview

Chapter 1

Tapeworm

Zain John, you and your brother and sisters get out of that refrigerator! Momma Sylvia yelled loudly from the bedroom as she headed down the hallway to investigate. Y’all are going to eat us out of a house and a home. Her voice was more resounding.

How did Momma know we were in the refrigerator? asked Serenity.

Mommas know everything, said Khaimani, the third child of four.

By this time Momma had reached the kitchen. Serenity, Khaimani, and Catembe were gone. Zain and Momma Sylvia smiled at each other.

Hi, Mother dear, Zain said just before he turned up his glass of water.

Hello, Zain John, Momma said as she always called him by his first two names.

Zain was tall for his age and always helped in taking care of the family when mother’s household chores were overwhelming. He sometimes teased Catembe about changing her diapers and holding her milk bottle when Momma was busy doing other household chores.

I was in the refrigerator, but I didn’t see anything I wanted. Will you be going to the grocery store today, Momma?

Yes, I will, she said.

Will you be getting fruits, vegetables, and potatoes?

Yes, I will. I don’t know what to say about this healthy food diet and exercise program you’re on at eleven years old. Your brother and sisters want sugary stuff for their snacks, but you prefer fruits and vegetables, and you’re always drinking water. Makes me wonder, should I take y’all to the doctor to see if y’all have a tapeworm or something because y’all are eating up everything.

Momma and Zain giggled at the thought. He had heard Momma mention tapeworm before; a make-believe parasite that enters the human digestive system and grows and thrives off what the human host consumes—a term often used by parents directed at their kids when they seem to eat up all the food very quickly.

Well, I sometimes like my sugary treats, but I’ve been reading books on how to be healthy and live a long time, and that’s what I wanna do, Momma.

Well, you go right ahead, son, Momma said. What did you do for your exercise yesterday? she asked.

I did fifty sit-ups, fifty push-ups, fifty squats, and ran a mile.

Momma raised her eyebrows and said, All-righty then.

I’ve already met my seventh-grade teacher. She selected me to play Christopher Columbus in a play next year and asked me to talk to you and Daddy about taking the prettiest girl going to the seventh grade to the seventh-grade class dance.

"You have a lot going on now and in the months ahead, I see. So you’re telling me your next grade teacher already knows that she wants you to take the prettiest girl to the seventh-grade school dance this early? What kind of effect are you having on them teachers? Momma said laughingly without expecting an answer. Are you getting your sleep at night? Don’t answer that. Except for sleeping in the Sunday afternoon church services, I never see you dragging, nor are your all-As school grades declining. I guess I just answered my own question, huh?"

Yes, Momma, I’m sleeping well.

Okay, ah…, she said, as if she was struggling to find the right moment to say what was on her mind. Your daddy will be home shortly. The family discussion will be different during dinner. You should hear him come in and we’ll have dinner shortly after. Please tell your brother and sisters if you see them before I do. It’s nothing to be alarmed about.

To take Zain’s mind off what he appeared to be pondering, she asked him to put on his father’s favorite album. Lonnie Liston Smith’s Quiet Moments was most fitting; a most melodic, rhythmic flow of smooth jazz.

The Michaels family was close-knit and loving. Except for the small squabbles and fallouts from time to time, the children got along very well and had a certain admiration and respect for their big brother. Mother Sylvia was of east coast African islands and Cherokee Indian descent. A lovely woman whose skin tone appeared to be kissed by the sun mixed with the perfect shade of caramel chocolate. True friends and close relatives would say she was most outstanding at taking care of the family as a stay at home mother. She would regularly join Zain in his exercise routine to maintain a good physical appearance. She prided herself in looking good. Long black silky hair reached halfway down her back. Zain would often tease her about always wanting a wife just like her one day.

John, his father, was of Irish-Scottish descent, born in Switzerland. He grew up playing pool in the YMCAs across his native country—winning tournaments and top-tier championships near and far across Europe. He had the trophies to show it. He strived for perfection through consistently practicing to better sharpen his laser-like focus and game time discipline—realizing flawless executions at any game were few and far between.

A big fan of professional basketball and professional football, he accepted the fact that the best free-throw shooter never made every free throw, every excellent quarterback never completed every pass, nor did every great receiver catch every pass—something he would instill in Zain as he grew older and became better at playing pool. Even during his travels throughout Europe, he attended church two to three times a week.

He believed that God was not a man, rather a spirit that dwells inside every human’s universe, and the universe will unfold when and what it will throughout one’s life—a belief he kept to himself. His knowledge of the Bible became vast through group Bible study during church services; nonetheless, he was not a saint. He sometimes consumed too much alcohol and betted often largely on pool games whether he was playing or betting on the side. It was a habit he found hard to break although he won much more than he lost. He was fortunate to maintain a net profit of $1.2M from winning bets. His laser-like focus and discipline at the game was a major factor in his winning. But then his alcohol consumption became worse and eventually became his downfall from becoming as great as he could have potentially been—maybe the greatest in the world.

He and Sylvia met at a train station while traveling. And although it wasn’t love at first sight, it developed into a most wonderful distant relationship, and after they learned that each other were big fans of Picasso and his artistry, the relationship grew even stronger as they felt fortunate to have met each other. Within a few months of meeting Sylvia, John decided to leave his pool career behind and move to the Seychelles Islands to be with his dream girl.

During their courtship, Zain John Benito Adonis Leonardo Romeo Kenya Prince Marco Giannis Kalif Raja Carinthia Keenan Atticus James Enrique Sebastian Angelo Paul Zechariah Dominque Michaels was conceived. John’s and Sylvia’s love for each other was genuine and divine—at least that’s what he had Sylvia thinking. Despite John’s continued betting on top-tier pool games throughout the islands, marriage was in the air. The conversation of getting married was the opportune time to inform his love that he had earned and saved $1.2M from pool winnings. He didn’t, and failed to tell Sylvia surely the most important thing about his past; that he was running away from a three-year-old side bet of $2M made on a championship game in the underworld of pool. The pool underworld spanned the globe—headed by a vicious kingpin, Boris Jergens—whom John had somehow evaded since the loss—discreetly looking over his shoulder constantly and always being reminded that he shouldn’t have betted such an enormous amount of money he didn’t even have although he should have from winning pool tournaments and top-tier championships. Boris Jergens’ organization didn’t kill people, but sometimes tortured them in horrendous ways, then made them his organization’s slave. Huge ransoms sometimes were the deal to get a loved one from him. Once a ransom was paid, Boris always held up his agreement to set any person free.

His young son, Enis, was being well-groomed to be a master of pool in his father’s organization. Boris surrounded his son with the best pool players in the underworld—at a serious monthly monetary expense with lessons of discipline, focus, physical training—making the nine-ball game as the priority in learning to be the ultimate player.

Although the organization’s intelligence officer, Adolph Link Krassenburg was relentless in his search for John Michaels, he simply couldn’t find him.

John and Sylvia married two months before Zain was due to be born. Three years later along came Serenity, followed by Khaimani, twenty-two months later, and Catembe, four years after Khaimani. With the family growing and John’s stash—the $1.2M he didn’t tell Sylvia about was running low. Not knowing anyone there, he and Sylvia moved the family to the big city of Atlanta, Georgia—a city they felt was a good place to raise the children. If Boris’s underworld of pool-playing gangsters and thugs hadn’t found him by now, surely they would never find him in the big city—thousands of miles away from Europe and the east coast African islands. He didn’t tell a single person about moving to the Seychelles Islands and Atlanta, Georgia. Sylvia did—John unknowing—believing his getaway was clean.

John just couldn’t seem to shake his habit of betting on pool. He had a good job and ensured his gambling and alcohol consumption didn’t become a hindrance to what he valued most—his family. A few years had passed. He became loved by many, a kind man whom people liked being around—always genuine and sincere and would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. Sylvia would sometimes call him Johnny. Those who knew him well called him Dap Daddy for he had style, dressed very well, was classy, poetic, told the funniest jokes, had his own quotes, and displayed the utmost respect for women. He was sometimes called Lightning by his friends for he was quick to beat anyone in the game of checkers and the throwback card game called Bid Whist.

John Allen Michaels, initials being JAM. A master at barbequing on his self-made grill, he created a sauce and meat-smoking technique so good that people from many miles around came to witness his savory cooking. A ladies’ man, who never flirted or yielded to temptation, he was faithful to his wife whom he sometimes called Syl Ree and Salfi. He was admired for being a man of great character and a demeanor that was cooler and smoother than a big quiet oscillating fan on a hot day. Although he was not a player, those who knew him well would say he had the attributes of such a man, and some say he personified the word player. He was street-smart and possessed an enormous amount of common sense.

Helllooo, John announced upon walking in the house as he often does. Sylvia was the first to greet him with a kiss and a hug this day as they gave each other that look as if they both were prepared to have that meeting during dinner that they had discussed with each other several times over the past few years. As the children help set the table, they all gave each other that look as in wondering what this dinner discussion is about.

John led them in blessing the food. Upon all of them saying Amen, the dishes of food were passed around as they all took their normal amount. Their father always waited and took his share in the end, although there was always more than enough food for second and third servings.

How was your day, Daddy? asked Catembe.

It was good, baby girl, he replied with a smile. John worked the assembly line in the car production industry. How was yours? Daddy asked.

It was good, Daddy, replied Catembe.

School would very soon be out for the summer. The plans were in place for the summertime newspaper delivery route. This time of the year through early September, John was given permission to switch to the night shift on his job so he and his children could deliver newspapers on a daily delivery route of about five hundred customers who subscribed to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution door to door—rain, snow, or shine—for it supplemented the primary income in wonderful ways so Sylvia could stay home and take care of the kids.

Zain John, Momma said, there is no right or wrong time to tell you, but we wanted you to know that you were stillborn. Zain sat up straight in his chair and became more attentive. I and your father were terrified in thinking that you wouldn’t live. Your breathing was very shallow. You didn’t move.

"What does shallow mean, Momma? asked Khaimani. It means he was barely breathing, but then your father somehow got pass the doctors and nurses when their backs were turned, lit a cigarette in the room you were in, and blew smoke in your face. You immediately coughed and started crying. The nurse ran in as I stood there watching you outside your window. I cried and said out loud, ‘Thank God, my baby is alive!’ The doctor and nurse rushed to your room. After a basic check from the doctor and nurse finding that everything was normal, I was able to hold you. You smiled at me. It was the second happiest day in my life."

What was the first happiest day of your life, Momma? Serenity asked.

When your daddy asked me to marry him. They all giggled. "But there’s more. I and your father are big fans of Picasso and know all about him, his life, and his artistic genius ways. Picasso was stillborn as Momma said in looking all the children in their eyes. We believe our Zain has been endowed with the spirit and likeness of Picasso. Zain John’s birthday is October 25—the same as Picasso. We gave Zain John twenty-three names. Picasso had twenty-three names. We have several books about his life and his artistry. Feel free to read them. Picasso was also very poetic. His paintings