Chapter 12 Goon
GOON
Recommendation: Listen to Mama by Gyptian
I listened on the other end of the phone as Khaos sniffled into the phone. My back against the cold walls, looking at the dullness from the fluorescent lights that coated the cinderblock walls.
I wasn’t supposed to be here.
There was no other choice but to listen to my brother be the strength for our family, while I sat on the other end of the phone.
This shit was fucking me up in here because I couldn’t do shit about it.
I knew it was hard on him, considering it was our mother.
Boys never played about their moms, and we were no different.
It had always been us, and she had always been our strength.
Always sacrificing everything to make sure her boys had everything we needed.
No matter how stupid or outlandish the shit was, she always made sure she came through for us.
I remember she put off paying the electric bill to buy me a pair of Jordans. I never asked for much because I knew how hard it was for her. She worked two jobs with no high school education and being an immigrant in Brooklyn, New York.
I knew it was hard to raise two boys in Brooklyn. Raising us alone, while trying to pay every bill that came her way. As much as I wanted the new sneakers and clothes my friends were rocking, I knew never to ask her.
Not because I knew we couldn’t afford it.
Mostly because I knew my mother was the type of woman that made a way. It didn’t matter if she went without, if me and Khaos wanted something, she was going to go hard to get it.
“They took her leg, Goo.” Khaos whispered.
“Fuck.”
He sniffled, and I looked up at the ceiling, knowing that no matter what I said, nothing compared to me being there with them. I couldn’t show emotion, because of where I was. Any signs of weakness and a nigga wouldn’t hesitate to use it against you.
“She was screaming, Goo… said she felt pain and the leg not there. Sobbing into my chest, I can’t fix this shit alone… seeing mommy like that… fuck.” He blew out a frustrated sigh.
“I know.”
“I don’t even mean to put this shit on you, but I don’t want you coming home confused…. Couldn’t keep this shit from you. Auntie told me not to tell you ’cause it would make you go crazy.”
My chest felt like it was about to cave in. When it came to having a weakness, I didn’t have many. My family was my number one weakness, and being here, I couldn’t do anything for them
I couldn’t hold my mother and assure her that things would be alright. The truth was that it wouldn’t be alright, because she had lost a piece of her independence. To know my mother was to know that was most important to her.
She never depended on anyone.
Losing her leg was like taking her livelihood. Taking away the one thing she had always been able to control.
Her mobility.
“Been telling her that she needs to take better care of herself. Always worried about everyone else, never herself.”
“Yeah, she stubborn. You know that… always been” he whispered. I could hear my brother unraveling.
Breaking on the other end of the line.
Moms was our hero. She stepped up when our father bowed out on us. When she could have complained, she never did. She rolled up her sleeves and took on the task of two boys.
That in and out of our lives shit never flew with her. The first time he showed he was in and out, she made sure he remained out.
I wished I could have been there with her.
This was the part of prison that the little niggas didn’t see when they were out in those streets. Everyone spoke about your freedom being snatched away, but no one ever spoke about your family.
Being away from them.
The strain it put on them to visit you hours away, keep money on your books, or make themselves available to take your call.
Nobody ever spoke about the shit you missed. Losing family members and having to listen to your family break while you clung to a phone receiver, wanting to do anything.
Something.
If you were lucky and your family did your bid with you, you came home and things were different. Sometimes it was a good different, and other times it was bad. You were getting to know the same people you’ve known your entire life.
They weren’t the same.
You weren’t the same.
When you came from behind those walls, you were different. Nothing was the same for you. Not the way you moved, or the way you thought. Prison was supposed to rehabilitate us, but in a sense, it fucked us mentally and sent us on our way.
Expecting us to do right, but how could you do right when you spent years in survival mode. You only adapted that same way of living when you got on the outside.
My wheels crushed the gravel as I pulled up to Menace’s gates.
I told him that I wanted to meet with him today.
I did shit the way that Zoya wanted me to, but he needed to know.
Don already knew, so it was only a matter of time before the information made it to Menace, and I wanted it to come from me.
They did the usual security check before sending me through. Visiting Menace was like trying to see the president. Shit, I felt like he had even more security than the president. I slowly cruised up the hill and leaned back, taking in the scenery.
Every time I came to his crib, I was blown away by the lengths this man went to be isolated. He wanted to make sure that he had no neighbors, and that his house wasn’t easily accessible.
Before I turned my truck off, I sat in the car for a minute and got my mind right.
Dealing with Menace took a lot of patience.
I wasn’t coming to him with some small news.
His sister was fucking a serial killer, and the fact that his sister was one of the pictures in that box was something to be on guard about.
A Porsche whipped up the driveway and parked in front of me. Corleon’s long frame filed out the small car and he opened the back door. A little curly hair girl, who I assumed was Estella, hopped out the back and tried to snatch her computer and small bag from him.
Before she could get it, he held it back and spoke to her, as if he was trying to teach her manners. Corleon pointed to the computer and then said something, and she dropped her head.
With his free hand, he lifted her chin and smiled, and she jumped right into him, hugging him. He looked around like he sensed someone watching them, and when I climbed out the truck, he smirked.
“Weirdo nigga,” he snorted.
Estella tugged at the computer and bag, as she looked at me. “What up, Stellie?”
It had been a minute since I had seen Estella. Time waited for nobody, because she had grown up some, and she resembled Skyler even more. That serious expression that Skyler had when she was hacking into some shit, her daughter shared the same face.
“Hi Goon!” She smiled, remembering me.
“Stellie, go on inside and run through the rain.” He laughed, as she handed him back her stuff and took off running.
We both watched her running toward the doors where Duke was waiting. She ran into his arms, and he picked her up and spun her around. “Doing the pops shit?”
“Yeah. She had a coding afterschool activity. Jeffie was supposed to get her, but since I was heading here, she told me to scoop her.”
“Where Skyler?”
“Work… she and Capri been busy lately… she gets home late and has early mornings. I keep Estella some nights because I want her to rest without being overwhelmed.”
I nodded my head. “All we know is to make it easier for the ones we love.”
“For sure. You wanna fill me in on why you got us meeting with Menace today?” he questioned, as we walked toward the front doors.
All I could do was laugh. “Some shit, Core… some shit.”
“Zoya shit?”
“Yeah.”
We made it through the front of the house, and I was nearly blinded with that damn mist. When we rounded the corner in the massive foyer, Stevie was sitting on the counter with her legs crossed and mixing paint on some art paint plate shit.
When she heard us, she looked up. “Hey guys… to what do we owe this visit?”
Corleon came around the counter and kissed her head, and I followed suit. “What up, Stevie?”
“Just trying to get the perfect color for this painting I’m working on for Navy… it’s a wedding gift for her and Landon.”
Corleon looked around. “Where’s Estella?”
“Upstairs with Avril… she doesn’t bother with me anymore. All she worries about is Dennis… you know, I’m still a person too,” she vented.
“Stevie, you got beef with your little cousin?” I laughed.
She paused, realizing how she sounded. “Maybe a little… babies are cute, I get it. However, nobody ever checks on the moms. He stole everything from me… then had the nerve to leave extra weight that I didn’t have.”
“I like the extra weight he left though,” Menace came around the corner with his hand shoved in his sweats.
He went through six different emotions from the moment he rounded the corner. Love, adoration, and being horrified while his wife mixed paint on the white marble counters.
“I miss fitting into my favorite pair of jeans.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
“Doesn’t make them my favorites, Mavie.”
He looked at his watch. “What you want me to do, Wonder?”
Corleon opened the fridge. “We interrupt something… damn.”
Menace never pulled his eyes from his wife. “They want us to divorce, Wonder… been wanting it since we got married.”
“Who the fuck said that?” I asked, trying to make sure I wasn’t missing shit that was said.
“I know, Mavie… we’re stronger together. Never let the outsiders win, right?” She continued to mix her paint.
The paint was fucking with Menace mentally. His hands quickly came out his pockets, and he started rubbing them together.
“Stevie, going along with his shit doesn’t help either,” Core said, as he popped open his soda.
“I would never rob my husband and kill him, Corleon.” Stevie gasped, climbing down from the counter.