Chapter 4 #2
I got out of the car and headed into the house.
I was about to get the sleep I didn’t get this morning.
Lowkey I should’ve been going to my restaurant to put in some work.
That was usually where I put in my time when sleep wasn’t on the menu.
Besides myself and Killah, not many people knew about the restaurant I had purchased several months ago.
It wasn’t yet operational, but would be soon.
I was working on things myself, piece by piece.
I was currently at the tail end of hanging some drywall.
I didn’t have a set finish date, but I’d know when I was done at my own speed and open up.
My phone started ringing the moment I found my sofa. I pulled it out of my pocket and answered on speaker immediately before setting it on my chest.
“Yo.”
“That’s damn sure not how I taught your rockheaded ass to answer a fucking phone.” My mother’s voice spilled through the line.
I laughed. “Don’t you answer your phone talking about what?”
“Because you get on my damn nerves. Do as I say and not as I do. But I called for a reason.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Thank you, for what you did. For having a conversation with Shaun.”
“Anytime, Mama. He just needed some tough love. They all do.”
“I know. I know but you can’t save them all. How are you?”
“Good, probably about to get some sleep. Do you or Grams need anything?” I asked.
“No, baby, get some rest. I’m making chicken pot pies for dinner tonight if you and Junior are coming over.”
“You know I am.”
When we finally got off the phone, I closed my eyes with everything I needed to be taking care of in my mind. Sleep most nights was accompanied with those types of mental lists all the time though.
“You know I’m glad you finally got your shit together, leaving those streets alone.” My uncle peered out at the cars as I drove him toward the hospital for his appointment.
I laughed. “Considering you were the one who helped me into those streets, I guess I understand your sentiments.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I taught you how to survive them. You and Killah are hardheaded. Nothing I would’ve told you would have kept you out of them. I know that much for a fact.”
I shrugged.
“But you made something and you ain’t out here still hugging the blocks. You made it out.”
“I feel you.”
“Just don’t regress. It’s easy to stay in shallow waters with familiar territories. You ain’t never had a problem swimming to the deep, so don’t start overthinking it now.”
I nodded, understanding exactly what he said without needing any clarity.
Unc knew me better than I knew myself some days.
He also knew the motions of a street runner.
When my father died, he stepped up. When Killah and Junnie’s mama, his sister, ran off, he moved into the house with Big Mama and my mother.
He was the man of the house, sure to help them raise us into men.
I pulled into the parking lot of Founders, rounding the circle driveway to the front door. Then I put the car in park and glanced over at Unc.
“Don’t be late picking me up. I ain’t no regular motherfucker. I can’t be idling in these streets like that.”
“You want me to come in there with you? You know I keep it on me?” I questioned, looking from the entrance to him.
“Hell nah, I ain’t no fucking kid.”
I laughed. “Aight, I’m going right up the block to Junior’s practice. Just call me when you're ready and I’ll be on my way.”
“Aight now.” He fixed his blue Kangol on his head and opened the car door to get out.
Unc’s slacks were creased perfectly, bringing a chuckle to my lips as I watched him damn near two-step to the stairs.
It was like his old ass was frozen in time, still existing in the late eighties when old heads wore slacks with the thick creases everywhere.
Once he walked into the building I pulled off, merging into traffic.
I was a block from the school and about three blocks from Syn’s spot when it hit me that I hadn’t heard from her selectively mute ass.
One thing I fucked with her heavily about was her ability be alone, existing by herself, not in a depression or anything.
At first it irked my soul, but then I came to respect it.
She had this uncanny ability to be perfectly fine in her own skin and unbothered by everything else.
When we first started messing around, I thought she had a man or something because she went missing on me so much I just knew it was something.
When I realized she could exist in her place, quiet as fuck with that damn dog she had, I was in awe.
I wasn’t used to a chick not being all in my shit and not needing me to be all in hers.
Not only that, but when I started actually fucking with Syn, somehow I end up only messing with her.
It wasn’t on purpose, because before her I had a healthy rotation, but then Junior moved in and I started spending more time on the home front.
I didn't want motherfuckers knowing where I laid my head or around my youngin.
Either way, with her it just happened, even considering the fact that her pops was cruising for a bullet trying to grab properties in Watertown and slowly move in.
Nothing happened in Watertown without me knowing.
I dialed Karsyn, setting the phone in my lap as I sat back in my seat. It rang throughout the car a few times before she answered.
“Hey, handsome,” she greeted me.
“Don’t ‘hey, handsome’ me. What I tell you, ’bout that mute shit?”
She giggled. “That it’s not permitted, but I wasn’t being mute and BJ is at daycare. I’m picking him up tomorrow. I had another idea for my dress and I’m headed to P’s house to fit her for a dress she ordered. I've been working, baby.”
“Oh, aight. What time do you think you’ll be back at your condo?”
“Around six, maybe earlier. I need to stop by the bar and see my brother. What are you doing?”
“Headed to Junior’s practice. I’m tryna see you.”
“When tonight? Are you offering to come to me?” I could hear the smile in her voice.
“If you want me to, I will. I wanna see you, Syn,” I responded, sounding like a straight bitch, because no matter what I said or how much I denied it, the fact still stood. She had me wide eyed and bushy tailed.
“Okay, then come see me. You know my code. I’ll cook.”
I grinned. “Aight, baby girl. I’ma hold you to that.”
“See you in a few.”
When we hung up, I hopped out of the truck, watching my surroundings. The coast was clear so I went to the north doors of the gymnasium. I entered the school, my eyes scanning the court before I found my boy. He was talking to his coach on the opposite side, wiping his sweaty face.
“What’s up, P?” The security guard, somebody from the neighborhood I’d gone to school with, greeted me.
I found out he worked up here one day after I dropped Junior off.
His name was Omar or some shit like that.
Back in school we called him O. His moms moved him out of Watertown around eighth grade to Lower Briar.
It was where everybody moved who wanted to feel like they were better than Watertown folks.
“Shit can’t call it. How is my boy doing?” I gave him a brief glance, then my eyes went back to my son. He was back on the court by then.
“He’s straight. Got handles like Killah.”
I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I see that.”
He and I made some more small talk for a few more seconds, then I found an empty bleacher toward the back and sat down.
For a while I watched my son go back and forth up the court, extremely similar to my cousin.
Some people had natural talent, the type that could get them out of the hood.
Killah had that, but then he chose the streets, unable to see past our circumstances back then.
My son had it, and even if I died trying, he would make it out. Watertown wouldn’t be his end.
I had been there for an hour when my phone started to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket, thinking it was my uncle finally telling me to come through. It wasn’t, it was a number I didn’t recognize, but for some reason felt compelled to answer.
I mashed the phone to my ear after answering, something in my chest not feeling right. “Hello.”
“Hello, is this Posydiann Murphy?”
“Yo, who’s asking?” I asked, pulling the phone from my ear and looking the number over again. Nothing about it was familiar besides the Briar area code.
“Hello, there is no easy way to say this. You’re receiving this call because your uncle Isac Murphy put you down as his emergency contact.”
“Okay and? I’m on my way to get him rig—”
“Mr. Murphy passed away.”