So Gone

Losing It


Blunt

The organist was playing a sad gospel tune while the whole front row of the church was weeping. I stepped right pass the pews with my li’l man following me. I walked up and looked down into the pink and white casket at Chunuchi’s face. It sort of looked like she was in a deep sleep, but of course the bitch wouldn’t ever wake up. I had warned her not to play games wit’ me!

I told her when we first met years ago that I’m the wrong nigga to test, but she wouldn’t take heed to my warning so now that ass is stinking. I wiped my eye and faked like I was wiping away tears.

I remained standing over her casket until her mother erupted from her seat in the front pew. “I want him out of here! He killed my daughter and I know he did it!” she screamed.

My head snapped around and my dry eyes met her wet ones. I grinned as if saying, Prove it!

The funeral director walked up and politely asked me to leave. “Out of respect for the family,” he added.

“F*ck all y’all fake mothaf*ckas! I ain’t got no respect for none of y’all, but I’ma bounce ‘cause I got places to be,” I responded.

At the door, on my way out the church, Cam, one of Chunuchi’s uncles, confronted me. “If I find out you did this, I’m comin’ for you,” he threatened.

“I’m not hard to find,” I let him know. He didn’t wanna see me! I was an equal opportunity killa. I banged on niggas, hoes, old women, and children too. I didn’t discriminate wit’ my burner.

When I got outside to the car, Luscious said, “You okay, Baby?”

“I’m good as long as I got you.” I smiled. Of course, I was blowing the bitch head up. If I didn’t need her to set up Polo, the bitch would have been in the casket right next to the punk hoe whose face I just looked down in.

I had started to smash Luscious the other night when I was done running dick up in her rectum, but I needed that grip I knew Polo was sitting on. I leaned over and kissed her lips. “Promise me you won’t ever turn on me, Baby,” I conned.

“Never, Daddy,” she vowed.

Shawdy just didn’t kno’ what I had planned for her ass.

I dropped her and Devin off at her crib. Devin had been silent all day, and I knew he was missing his mother. I knew he’d be okay though. He was a trooper.

I spent the rest of the day in the hood gettin’ high and tossing back hard liquor.

I was missing Mo’ like crazy. So I decided to go over to her house and beg her to give me one last chance. This time I was gon’ keep it real and not cheat on her. It took awhile but I had learned my lesson. I could give up all the other women, but I needed my boo. I’d get down on bended knee if that’s what it took.

As I was driving up, I thought I spotted the big homie, Rocco, leaving Mo’s house. Now I knew fo’ sho’ that she was f*ckin’ him! Rocco wasn’t no lame so he was hittin’ the p-ssy. Just the thought of that hoe lettin’ a dude I f*cks wit’ hit had my whole grill twisted. No matter what, a niggas homie was out of bounds. That showed that Mo’ was a hoe in disguise all along.

I would teach her what happens to hoes like her, I said to myself as I watched Rocco walk across the street and go inside the big house directly across from Mo’s. Hmmm! So that’s where he rest, huh?



The next night, I crept up behind Rocco as he entered his crib. I jabbed my heater in his spine.

“Step on inside, Homie,” I ordered him, simultaneously removing the strap that he kept on his waist. I pushed him inside and closed the door behind us. “Get on yo’ knees now, Nigga! Bow down to me,” I commanded.

Rocco knew I was trained to hurt somethin’, and he was in no position to buck so he got on his knees.

“Respect the code,” he tried to reason wit’ me. I wasn’t tryna hear it though.

“You ain’t respectin’ the code by f*ckin’ my bitch,” I gritted and pumped a slug in his chest. He toppled over, then reached up and wrapped his arms around my knees and tried to tackle me to the knees.

I put the burner against his head and said, “Sometimes the price of p-ssy is yo’ life. Game over!” I squeezed the trigger and his head exploded all over my hoodie. If Mo’ still wanted him, maybe she could glue the pieces of his head back together.





A Fun Trip


Molaysia

In August of 2012 our family reunion was held in the country part of Memphis in my Uncle Lou’s huge backyard.

There had to be at least two hundred of my relatives who showed up for the event. They had come from Mississippi, Texas, Louisiana, and the Detroit Metropolitan area.

Everyone was wearing green monogrammed t-shirts with a tree etched on the front and the words Alexander & Olson’s 20th Family Reunion. Me and Leesha and the twins arrived on the scene. We were wearing our shirts too and blue jean Capri pants with matching green flip-flops. The girls sprinted off to go play with a few cousins that they recognized. “Don’t y’all get dirty, hell,” Leesha spoke when they took off.

The low sound of R&B oldies played in the background. Kids were dancing to the tune of The Isley Brothers, running everywhere, and having fun. The smaller children played tag while the teenage boys shot basketball on a goal. There was a table set up for the children to make crafts, jewelry, draw pictures, and blow bubbles. Several tables were arranged for the grownups to enjoy card games, Checkers, and Dominoes.

“Let’s go sit by Aunt Katie ‘nem with their messy old asses,” Leesha suggested.

We walked a little piece under a huge oak tree where our elderly Aunt Katie sat with her cane resting across her knees. Her sisters, Aunt Edna and Aunt Donna Ann, sat in lawn chairs beside her. These were all my mother and Aunt Sara’s sisters. They all resembled each other with the long black hair, smooth and beautiful chocolate skin.

“Hey Aunties,” Leesha greeted.

They all gave us huge smiles and embraced us with hugs.

“Sit down, babies,” said Aunt Katie.

Leesha and I sat in two of the empty chairs aligned around them. They were the most gossiping women I had ever seen in my life. Soon as our butts touched the seats, one of our Aunt’s started.

“Leesha, baby are you pregnant or just retaining a lot of fluid? Yo’ feet look like they swollen,” Aunt Katie remarked.

"You do look fat, dear," added Aunt Edna.

I placed my hand over my mouth, crossed my legs, and snickered. I was so tickled!

Leesha gave me a dirty look and an eye roll, and mumbled, “Heifer, it’s not that funny.”

Aunt Donna Ann pointed behind us. “Look y’all, that’s Lou’s daughter, Nae, looking like a ole’ hoe. I don’t know why she’s dressed like that. She’s shaped like a tub.”

Many of my family members didn’t like cousin Nae because she always stayed in some type of drama and foolishness. My Aunties looked her up and down. When Nae waved in their direction, they looked away.

“Hmph, I’m not speaking to her,” Aunt Donna replied. “All she does is steal out of her grandmama’s purse, and she ain’t never been worth nothing. I’m glad my pocketbook is in the trunk of my car ‘cause she’ll steal the sugar out of a cake.”

Aunt Katie folded her arms and added, “I heard that she is looking for an assisted living home to put her grandma in. Can you believe that her grandma, Betty Ann, has had two bypass surgeries and a hip replacement?”

Before anyone could answer, she shook her head and kept going. “She’s half blind, can’t hear anything quieter than a jet engine, and takes thirty pills a day that makes her lightheaded. She has episodes with dementia, poor leg circulation, can hardly feel her hands and feet, and can’t remember if she’s eighty- five or ninety-two. And guess what… she’s still driving.”

“I’m calling the Department of Motor Vehicles on that heifer as soon as I get home,” Aunt Donna let out.

They went on for an hour cracking me and Leesha up. Gossiping was their everyday job. It was hilarious yet ridiculous. Listening to them had set my ears on fire, but I loved them.

Being back home felt so good, but I was already missing Rocco.





About To Pig Out


Molaysia

The culinary highlight of the event was the roasting and eating of the pig. My Uncle Lou, who prided himself on cooking the best barbeque in the world, offered to do the meat. He had placed it on a huge black portable grill. He opened the grill, and I could see that the animal was split down the middle. Its cavity was filled with strings of sausages, onions, peppers, potatoes, and ears of corn on the cob to add a little spice and flavor then stitched with twine. Normally, it was cooked throughout the evening before and into the wee hours of the morning. They slow roasted it while playing cards and the men took turns turning it.

Dinner was set for mid-afternoon. The swine was wheeled out to the picnic shelter where about seventy-men, women, and children sat around the banquet tables laughing and talking. We stood, went over to the food, and all of us held hands as the eldest man, Uncle Willie, was about to bless the food.

“Put that beer bottle down, so we can pray Lou,” he told my other uncle.

Uncle Lou looked up, lifted the bottle in the air, and guzzled a few swallows down. “I ain’t puttin’ shit down. That’s what’s wrong with you so called, Christians. God’s been looking down at me getting tipsy for two days straight. I’ve been drinking like a fish both days. He knows I drink, and it ain’t no use in me trying to hide it. Why would I stop now ‘cause you ‘bout to pray?” he asked.

“Put that damn bottle down, fool, so we can thank God for this meal and eat!” Aunt Katie yelled out. She rubbed her stomach. “I ain’t ate shit all day,” she grumbled.

Uncle Lou raised his balled fist in the air. “You gon’ be eating a knuckle sandwich if you don’t quit saying something to me.”

Aunt Katie lifted up her walking stick and held it high. “If you do I’m gon’ hit you like a hurricane.” A loud burst of laughter came from a lot of mouths including Leesha. She was acting silly and bent over to her knees giggling and grinning.

Things soon calmed down. “I’ll say the prayer,” Uncle Lou insisted.

“I don’t want to hear that shit you ‘bout to say. I don’t even think anybody in heaven likes you. I’m in the world, and I know I don’t. You stay drunk as Cooter Brown, and you don’t even go to church. Shut up and let Willie pray!” Auntie Katie hollered.

Uncle Willie held his head down, closed his eyes, and started the prayer. “Lord, we thank you for the blessing of this day and for this time together as a family. We thank you for this wonderful meal and for this time that we can share it. Lord, help us to remember those who have so much less than we do. Bless us as a family. Help us to grow in love and care for each other. We ask you to comfort and give strength and peace to those who are sick and struggling in any way…”

Uncle Lou clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Look, it don’t take all of that. God can hear a simple prayer.” He used his hand to move Uncle Willie aside, cleared his throat, and waved his right hand up toward the sky praising the Lord. “God is great, and he’s sho’ nuff good. Lord, we wanna say thank you for this food. Amen.”

“Amen,” Leesha joined in.

I elbowed her and whispered, “Girl, now you know Uncle Lou is wrong for that.”

“No he’s not. He’s got more sense than you. We’ll be alright without the two page prayer. God don’t want us to be hungry. That short prayer was good enough.”

Uncle Lou began to serve the hog. First, he carved through the twine. As he cut the stitches, the food inside spilled onto the table.

For all of us over age twenty-five, it was a beautiful sight. The younger generation, however, thought that it was absolutely disgusting. “Ugh, what is that?” shrieked one of my younger cousins. “They cooked the guts too?”

“Eww! I ain’t eating that!” cried another.

Aunt Katie said, “Hush up and let me tell you about this hog!” As she talked, other elders joined in with their own stories about growing up in hard times. They told us about working to raise hogs, only to be allowed to eat just the parts that had been discarded.

All of us learned volumes that day about the journey of our family in the face of tremendous barriers. The elders also used the opportunity to talk about everything from expectations, responsibilities, and pride. The conversation also went on to explain the disappointments, betrayals, losses, and victories that they had experienced over the years. The elders were survivors. They understood and communicated that the animal represented a lot in the African American quest for life. By the time she finished talking, the younger generation should have had great appreciation for what our elders had been through.

After we ate, the backyard turned into a nightclub. Relatives young and old took to the center of the yard and shook their moneymakers. Leesha hopped up and dropped that ass low. The twins got up and mimicked their mama's moves. I laughed so hard that I fell out of my chair.





Catastrophe


Molaysia

The family reunion was exactly what I needed. It was a blessing to be able to share so many memories and laughter with loved ones. The only downer was when it was time to go.

I said my tearful goodbyes and promised to return soon. Then, I got in my car and began the trek back to Atlanta.

Music kept me company as I headed home. I was barely an hour out of Memphis, and already I was missing my family. I called Leesha just to tell her that I loved her.

"Aww, I love you too, Cuz," she gushed.

We talked for a few minutes then said goodbye. Traveling down the interstate, I began thinking about my life. Where was it leading me? I wondered.

It was hard at times to live in Georgia. I felt lonely not having family there, but I loved Atlanta. The city was diverse and had a lot to offer. The people were friendly, like back home, and the weather wasn't so bad. There were many tourist attractions and great restaurants.

I felt fulfilled in my career, but my love life hadn't been so wonderful. I wanted to be in love with someone who would love me back. Blunt had really taken my kindness for weakness. His type of love, I'd learned, was not love at all.

I didn't know what to expect out of the relationship that was building with Rocco. I knew that he made me laugh and feel good about life again, but I was not going to rush anything.

Too late for that, the tingle between my legs reminded me. I squeezed my thighs together to quell the desire that had begun to mount just that fast in the valley down below. Reminiscing on the way Rocco had loved me down the other night sent sparks shooting through my private paradise.

The sound of my cell phone ringing over the low decibel of the music reached my ears. I fumbled in the bottom of my cluttered purse until I found the phone.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Mo’. . . somebody killed him!”

I could not make out the caller's hysterical voice other than recognizing that it was a woman.

“Who is this?” I asked, feeling perturbed.

“Aniyah. He's dead, Mo. Somebody killed my brother. Oh god! Rocco has been killed,” she sobbed.

The realization of what she had said hit me so hard, the phone slipped from hand. “Nooo!” I cried out. This could not be happening.

I picked my cell phone up off the floorboard and put it back to my ear. My body rocked back and forth as I tried to keep my hand steady on the steering wheel. I maneuvered over onto the shoulder of the highway until I could clear my eyes of the tears that poured down. Cars zipped by with a whoosh.

Rocco . . . dead? Not just dead but killed.

It had to be a dream. My mouth hung open while my heart shattered. I couldn’t even speak for a few minutes because I didn’t know what to say. All that I could hear in my ear was Aniyah crying hysterically.

“How was he killed?” I finally asked.

When Aniyah told me, I knew who was responsible for Rocco's death. There wasn't a single doubt in my mind.

“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” I broke down again.

“What do you mean? Do you know something about this?” She urged me to tell what it was I knew.

I pulled myself together and told her that we would talk when I got back. “I'm only an hour away now,” I said.

“Okay,” she replied just above a whisper. I could hear the hurt and pain in her voice.

I ended the call and laid my head against the steering wheel. I asked myself could I be wrong. Maybe Blunt had nothing to do with this. I wanted to believe that, but I recalled his threat. You can have Rocco. That nigga ain't built like me, and I'ma show you. I'ma see you at that nigga's funeral.

I was shuddering as I pulled back on the interstate. Tears blurred my vision, so I did not see the small white vehicle zooming towards me until it was right up on me. Tires screeched, then bam! My head smacked against the windshield from the impact, and my car spun around in a complete circle. I opened my mouth to scream, but everything faded to black.