Page 10

“You know I move slow for a reason, baby bro.”

“Yeah, because you don’t give a fuck about other people’s time.”

“Nah nigga, because my dick heavy.”

I looked at him for a second before laughing and stepping out the doorway so they could bring the body in.

This wasn’t the first time Duke had to transport a nigga to the funeral home that he killed. There were plenty of niggas around that did dumb ass shit to us that resulted in them being in the back of an Essex Funeral Home van.

I left the back door and walked to my grandfather’s office to let him know I was about to roll out. I’m not sure why he was even here like he wouldn’t soon be laying across that cold metal table in the back himself. They gave him four months to live at his last Doctor’s visit, and for the past two weeks he’s been getting brought up here to sit in his office and stare at the same walls that should’ve reminded him of death. I, for one, hated being up here, but this business brought in major money for the family. So, I did what I had to do to keep my pockets full and food on the table. At the end of the day, that’s all it was about to me.

I knew that if I were ever actually in charge, I’d let Duke run this entire funeral home and never step foot in this eerie ass place again. The chicken spots, and car dealerships I could handle, but this funeral home shit always made a nigga want to go to the nearest church and pray these fuckin spirits off me. Duke, however, didn’t seem bothered. He would come up here at night by himself if someone asked him to. That was one of the differences between he and I.

Knock Knock

“Yo Pops, I’m about to roll.”

I stuck my head in the door, and he looked up from the word search puzzle he held in his hand.

We called him Pops because our mom did when she was alive, and we picked up on the shit too. My mama had three boys: Me, Duke, and our baby brother Ezra who we called Easy. From what my mama says, grandpop couldn’t even be mad about her having my brother Duke at sixteen because he was happy that Duke was a boy. She later went on to have me and Easy, which had him ecstatic about the Essex family name. Three strong boys ready to carry our lineage into another lifetime, only to this day, not one of us had any sons.

Now, the Essex name was doomed to end one day, and grandpop hated the thought of that shit. He always said he wanted an Essex man running his businesses forever. Which is why he needed one of us to have a son, and whoever does first inherits the companies. Sometimes I thought it wasn't fair and then other times I understood. Being proud of your name is a sign of strength and Pops was the strongest man I ever knew.

He placed the word search booklet on the desk in front of him and looked up at me with a grin that had me wondering what the hell was funny.

“What you smiling at, old man?” I joked with him.

“You look just like my baby girl. More like her than either one of those other two knuckleheads. You got her mind too. You think straight like her.”

I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe, taking the compliment for what it was because, shit, he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

“That’s why I am a great businessman and can lead this company to far places, Pops.”

He nodded in agreement, then brought his hand under his chin and scratched at the little bit of hair he had left. I still wasn’t used to seeing his face without that big ass beard covering half of it. That motherfucker had been thick and full for as long as I could remember, so seeing nothing but a few patches of hair under his chin made him look like a completely different man.

Chemotherapy had taken most of his hair from him, along with damn near all the weight he used to carry. Pops used to be a big nigga, not Duke big, but solid enough that when he walked into a room you noticed him. Now his face was slimmer, his neck looked smaller, and his clothes hung off him in places where they used to fit tightly. Crazy how life works and how we all have an expiration date. No matter how big, how powerful, or how rich we were. One day we would wither away and become a fraction of ourselves, ending our time on earth in a body bag.

“Caine, I know you are a great businessman, and that’s why I hope to see my grandson born before I leave here. That way I will know that the business is in good hands.”

He started to cough, grabbing the white handkerchief from the desk in front of him.

“That’s the thing, Pops. I don’t understand why you can’t just leave the businesses to me and live out your days without worry. The children will come, don’t worry about that. I know the Essex name means a lot to you, but.”

“But it means everything to me, and if I leave the business to you and you don’t have more sons to carry on the name, then one day an Essex won’t be running things around here.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with the handkerchief.

Me and Pops had gone through the argument before, and I’d pointed out he won’t have a company if he lets Duke’s irrational ass run it, or Easy, who is doing a bid right now for some dumb shit. He knew I made a good point, but his mind was made up and it's hard to change a selfish mind.

I heard the door shut to the back hallway where Grandpop’s office was, and I turned over my shoulder.

“That’s probably my medicine.” He replied, watching the door.

When I turned over my shoulder, I saw that his medicine was none other than Diamond, the stripper from Onyx that he'd been tricking on for years now. Diamond was brown skin, big fat ass booty, and sexy down to the way she walked. She had tattoos all up her thighs, and me and Duke often joked that Diamond was going to take his ass out before the cancer has a chance.

“I guess I’ll leave you to your medicine.”

“One love, grandson.”

“One love.”