Hood 2 Good

By Preston Nelson

Hood 2 Good is a fictional but inspirational story about resilience, loyalty, survival, and encouragement. Unfortunately, life is harder and more challenging for some. The people in this story were exposed to dangerous, dire situations early in their lives because they grew up in a downtrodden area of the city. A Good Samaritan who was determined to live a better life never wavered from this goal. One day the Good Samaritan rescued two little girls from a horrendous situation. From that point on the Good Samaritan dedicated his life to making sure the girls grew up in a safe, clean comfortable home with peace of mind so they could elevate in life. This story has drama, violence, humor, and adult situations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035817337

Preston Nelson

Preston has a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice from the University of Houston-Downtown. He also has a patent on shoulder weights he designed in the 1980s. He is a father and a grandfather and about to start traveling internationally.

Book preview

About the Author

Preston has a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice from the University of Houston-Downtown. He also has a patent on shoulder weights he designed in the 1980s. He is a father and a grandfather and about to start traveling internationally.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those people living in poor urban areas where opportunity is scarce. Those exposed to despair and negativity on a daily basis in this society may not realize the odds have been purposely stacked against some to prevent their success. Motivational speakers often talk a good talk, but if you lack resources, a motivational speaker isn’t speaking to those with absolutely no resources or hope. Sometimes we all need a helping hand—some more than others. I’ve often heard people assume and pass judgment on those struggling, branding them lazy and uninterested in bettering themselves, which is unfair. There are many good people in poor areas struggling to survive who just need that helping hand to improve their lives. Instead of sending billions to Ukraine and Israel, money could be used to offer resources to struggling citizens here. To those in this situation, I say keep your head up; when the person who can help, or the opportunity, comes around, I have confidence that you will seize it fully. And remember, what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. Keep in mind that the ghetto/hood was created with a specific group in mind. Surviving the dangers that come from living in the hood will not only make you stronger but also more resilient. Hopefully, this story will be inspirational to those living in dire areas and situations.

Copyright Information ©

Preston Nelson 2024

The right of Preston Nelson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ISBN 9781035817320 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035817337 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I want to acknowledge Professor Awasom, Ben Williams, John Dale, Zeb Townsel, Henry Williams, Danita, Daniele, and numerous others who helped inspire the storyline of this book.

Chapter 1

The Dig

One summer day, when I was nine years old, I was hanging out with my friend Michael and one of his older brothers, Morris. As I mentioned we were moving to Quindaro, known as the ‘Q’, Morris told me about the neighborhood’s reputation. Quindaro was a very poor part of the city, in fact, the poorest. The poverty was so severe that some people went days without food. We were so poor that if I hadn’t been born a male, I wouldn’t have had anything to play with.

Morris explained the violence in Quindaro and advised me to learn how to box, as the boys in the Q learned to box from an early age. He warned against being an ‘E fighter’, I asked, What is an E fighter? Morris explained, one who fights based on emotion, explaining that a trained fighter always has the upper hand. Morris also told me to always keep the word ‘SURVIVE’ in mind.

The day came when we moved to the Q. It was a typical poor, run-down ghetto, filled with frustrated brothers who had no hope or opportunities and were quick to resort to fighting. Quindaro had no opportunities, and crime was rampant. Fortunately, some older brothers took me under their wing and taught me to box and fight like a boxer. In my first two months in Quindaro, I had twelve fights. The older guys helped me because they cut for me and knew my brothers didn’t live with me; we have different mothers.

At ten, I met Ben, who lived a few houses up from me. We became best friends and are still best friends today. Ben came from a large family, and we became more like brothers than friends. We shared a lot in common, including not having the heart to rob, unlike many in Quindaro who turned to crime out of desperation.

Despite the prevalence of crime, many tried to find legitimate employment, often unsuccessfully. Walking home from school, I would sometimes see older guys venting their frustrations on anyone they saw. In Quindaro, survival mode was a necessity. A fourteen-year-old had to be able to hold their own against someone in their twenties. Street fights were a common sight, with eight to ten people paired off boxing on any given day along with other acts of violence.

People from better parts of the city looked down on those from the Q but were afraid to enter the area. When Ben and I were twelve, we had the opportunity to work for a suitcase company. We had to walk across town for the job but were thrilled to earn some money. On our last day, we each got paid sixty dollars, a significant amount for us at the time. I planned to give forty dollars to my mother.

As Ben and I reached Quindaro in the evening, we looked down our street and saw a group of people shooting dice, boxing, drinking, and playing loud music. Ben lived at the top of the hill, so he was close to home. I decided to take the alley home, as I was too tired to hang out and box somebody. Ben understood he was tired too so we dapped up and went our separate ways. As I walked through the dark alley, I heard rustling sounds. Suddenly, I felt a punch glance off my shoulder. In the darkness, I couldn’t see well, but I managed to land a couple of punches in the direction of my attacker.

Then more guys started hitting me. I was surrounded, but I kept fighting. There were too many of them; I got hit and kicked from every direction. Daylight woke me up—I had been laid out in the alley all night, beaten unconscious. Dirt covered my face and the front part of my body from lying there all night. I felt lucky that rats hadn’t eaten me or dogs hadn’t bothered me. I was in a lot of pain; it seemed to take forever just to stand up. Any movement caused pain to shoot through my entire body. Breathing was difficult; my ribs were very sore. I had a strong feeling that my attackers were probably older.

It took about