…and never came back the same.
It was the day after my 25thbirthday, we partied all day into the night. Meridian Mississippi was a small town with a small population. It was the south indeed, but my father ran it with pride, feeding the poor and fixing up the poor areas that were really in need. He still managed to keep his family first. I stumbled into my room, lying across my bed in total surrender. I felt my stomach rumble. By morning, I knew I would be throwing up from all of the alcohol I consumed. Hearing a rough tap at my door, my father entered. Even in the dark, I could see his fresh set of white teeth. His tall frame caused him to lean down, so he wouldn’t hit his head. He sat down on the edge of my bed, back turned towards me as his shoulders hunched. That gesture only revealed that he was worried about something.
“Son, I’m about to shake out of here… me and your uncle Prince, Carlos and Troy got a big play to handle. I want you to remember everything I taught you, carry that shit with you… I see the worried look on your face Jr. I believe I’m going to return to you and your mom, but sometimes shit don’t work that way…” He said in a southern accent.
“Let me go with you, Dad.” I slurred out drunkenly.
I sat up with a banging headache; my brain seemed foggy from all of the liquor I consumed. Something in my gut didn’t feel right about my father leaving without me. For the last five years, he took me everywhere with him, showed me his operations. I knew I would be the one to take over.
“No Jr., your uncle Prince got me… you just sleep off all that damn liquor boy… I’ll be back, you know I always give one of my favorite speeches… Life ain’t promised, so I don’t miss a beat telling you and your mom how much I love y’all.” He drawled.
Nodding my head, I knew he was right. My dad always talked as if he was living in his last days. I felt okay with it all of a sudden. Knowing his best friends and my uncle was going to be right there with him. I knew that I had nothing to worry about. We talked for about 45 minutes, laughing and recapping the events that happened at my party. He explained to me how he was trying to slow down on the drug operations. He started to rub shoulders with powerful men that has legitimately cleaned up their drug money. My father wanted to explore different options, so he got into selling guns. Buying different kinds in bulk, then selling them for twice the price.
His main worries were his close friends. Troy and Carlos, they had already expressed how they wanted to stick to the drugs. My father was determined to get them on board with a different trade, although my uncle Prince had already explained the great dangers. After months of deliberation, they all finally agreed and, now, tonight was the night of one of their biggest money transactions from guns.
However, this particular mission was supposed to take a week. Somehow, it ended up being two weeks. I barely ate or slept not being able to connect with him to see if he was okay.
When my father finally returned, he had the most painful expression on his face. He stood at the foyer beaten badly, he barely moved, so I assisted him into our living room. When he finally sat down, he looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Son, never trust a soul but God.”
A million questions raced through my mind, but I knew not to question my father. I let him tell what he wanted to tell me. I always trusted his word and took it for what it was.
“I took care of all three of those ungrateful bastards,” he gritted. I never assumed that those ungrateful bastards were the same men that helped raise me.
“Your uncle Prince, he’s okay though… The nigga doesn’t know no better…” he coughed violently as he struggled to breathe… I was stunned speechless; I moved my mouth to speak but was loss for words.
My dad leaned all of his weight onto me. Balancing the both of us, I struggled with getting him to the couch and, when I finally did, my mom stood there with tears in her eyes.
“We got to get out of here King! They’re going to come for you.”
Never in a million years did I ever witness the fear in my mother’s eyes. Even my father shifted in pain to look at his high school sweetheart. I could tell it pained him terribly to his core to see her in such distress. He cleared his throat and talked as calm as he could.
“Go get that gun I gave you...”
Looking back towards my mom, he removed his hand from his side. That’s when my heart and anger twisted inside of me and exploded. My dad had been shot; his body was so battered; I couldn’t really see what all was wrong with him. I knew it was bad. I made up my mind that every single one of them, including my uncle Prince, would pay. Fuck not knowingbetter. The nigga was my flesh and blood. I couldn’t just let shit slip or slide.
“Jr., I ain’t got much time left…” He coughed up blood and spat it right out on the carpet, as my mom circled around the couch to face him. The tears ran rampant down her face; I stood frozen. For some reason, this shit just did not seem real.
“Jr!”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I nodded my head and ran hurriedly to go grab my gun. When I returned, my dad’s eyes were fluttering, opening and closing. My throat got tight; I wanted to break down, I felt like falling to my knees and begging Jehovah please. I would rather go before I saw my father leave us.
“Come close and listen to me, son.” His normal authoritative voice was low and weak, broken up. I could hear and feel his pain.
“My time has come, to return back to dust… When I take my last breath, be at ease… I’m happy because I’m gone finally be able to really rest. I’m about to pay for my sins. You know I have committed a lot.” He chuckled wearily.
He coughed up more blood as he started wheezing harder; my spirit broke with each second that passed.
“Son… take your mother and get out of here… let me rest.” His eyes kept closing slowly, as the tears leaked down at a fast pace now.
“I’m not leaving you,” I muttered, voice low, shoulders dropped down. My brain was buzzing.
“Wipe your face boy! Do what I told you… I refuse to let my wife die with me, it’s on you to take care of her now.”
He weakly pulled his gun out of its holster, painfully he placed it in his lap. My mom sobbed loud and hard as she begged him to come with us and skip town.
“I ain’t never ran from a nigga a day in my life Pearlene…” his sentence was cut short when he heard cars pull up in our driveway.
“Go now Jr., take your mom out the back! Don’t defy me… go now!”
