19. Asaiah
"It will be worth it. Worth it. It will be worth it," I sing while holding Onesti's hand with my right and steering with my left.
The lyrics of this James Fortune song give me hope that even though my life has been full of trials and tribulations, it'll all be worth it.
"Adding Zacardi Cortez to this song was genius because that man can blow. I love hearing him minister," Onesti adds.
After having an early dinner out, we're cruising through the city with no destination in mind while enjoying each other's company. My chest tightens, and emotions bubble within me when James mentions prayer requests turning into praise reports. Over the years, I have often thought God forgot my address and lost track of the hairs on my head. Waiting for Him to answer and deliver me out of the battles I've been fighting has been suffocating most of the time. To hear the reminder in this song that everything I went through and am going through will be worth it has me on the brink of falling into uncontrollable sobs.
"Sheesh. Waiting for God to turn things around is… whew, the struggle," Onesti declares as if she has a magnifying glass on my unspoken thoughts.
"You ain't gotta convince me. I've been waiting all my life for my parents to shake the stronghold of drugs. Or for them to at least give me credit for holding them down while they shorten their lives with the mess they inhale daily." A lump forms in my throat, and my stomach twists at speaking my thoughts aloud.
I'm a thirty-six-year-old man who can only remember a few instances of hearing love and appreciation from my parents. My mind wanders, taking me back to one of the few happy times in my childhood.
"Mommy! Mommy! I stayed on green all day, and Ms. Johns gave me a sticker and a Blow Pop." Waving the sticker and sucker in the air, I wait for Mom to turn and acknowledge me.
She's standing at the stove stirring something in the pot, making my stomach growl and excited about whatever we're having for dinner.
"Alright, baby boy. Give me some. Up top, down low, ahh… too slow," Mom says, smiling wide while doing the hand gesture she taught me after getting all my spelling words right.
"What it do, family?" Dad greets, entering the kitchen with a bottle of Corona in one hand and his lunchbox in the other.
"Hey, babe. How was work?" Mom says, kissing Dad when he pulls her into his arms.
"Yuck! Dad kissing girls will give you cooties," I grumble, frowning.
"Keep that same energy when you find one that puts that good-good on your ass," Dad says.
"Hush, Dre. Tell your father about your day, baby," Mom says, smiling.
A grin spreads on my lips, and I repeat my accomplishment for Dad, who gives me a pound.
"That's my little nigga," Dad gushes, giving me a high-five.
"Go wash up for dinner, Asaiah. I'm very proud of you," Mom adds.
Brrnng. Brrnng.
My phone ringing around the interior brings me back to the present moment, and my nose wrinkles upon seeing the unsaved number flashing on the dashboard. "Hello."
"Hi. My name is Thandie Cortez. Is this A-Asaiah?" an unknown female asks, instantly increasing my heart rate.
"Yes, this is he. May I ask what this is in regard to?"
"I'm trying to locate the family of Andre and Valerie Harrison. I was given your name as a possible relative," Thandie informs.
My grip on Onesti's hand tightens, and I briefly take my eyes off the road to look at her, seeing the puzzled expression dancing in her eyes.
"Are you still there?" Thandie asks.
"I'm here. I'm—uh, I'm their son. Is something wrong? Where are they?" My mind spins with questions flowing in and out at the speed of light, making it difficult for me to settle my thoughts.
"I'd rather not share information over the phone, but if you can get to Baxter Medical Center, someone will give you all the details," Thandie replies, and my heart stalls in my chest for countless seconds while my foot unconsciously yet slowly eases off the gas.
"I'm on… fuck! I'm on my way," I quietly respond, wetting my lips and fighting the urge to ask additional questions.
"See you soon," Thandie says before disconnecting the line.
"Man, what the fuck is going on now?" I ask with my throat constricting and bite my bottom lip to contain the cries welling in my stomach.
* * *
God, for real? Where's your sovereignty in this?
Upon arriving at Baxter Medical Center, I discovered that Mom and Dad are patients in this hospital. Dad is clinging to life after suffering from a stabbing attack where he tried to steal drugs from one of the fiends at Ritown Projects. According to the social worker I talked to, the knife perforated his lungs and several other major organs, which resulted in my dad losing his spleen and appendix. Unable to deal with Dad's gloomy prognosis, Mom did what was natural for her.
While sitting at my dad's bedside, she snorted several lines of cocaine, not knowing she'd been sold a bad batch. As a result, and in conjunction with years of abuse, her organs are failing, thus making Mom cling to life and making her Dad's roommate.
"Take your time. If you're not ready to do this, we can sit in the waiting area until you are," Onesti whispers, rubbing my back soothingly.
We've been standing outside my parents' room for the last five minutes while I work up the nerve to go in. Although the main door is open, the curtain is drawn, preventing anyone from seeing the occupants. My limbs are shaky, and my racing heartbeat is causing pain in my chest. Unknown to Onesti, I haven't moved because my legs feel weak, and a boulder sits in my stomach.
I don't know if I can do this, God. Seeing my dad laid up the last time was a lot. Now, I have to see both of them in this state. That's gonna break me. I've been holding them down for years, and it feels like I failed them. I failed to pull them out. Maybe I should have found them an upstanding dealer who wouldn't inflict harm. Damn it… I failed to be enough to make them choose me over their addiction.
My eyes become blurry, and a strangled gasp slips from my mouth when my last thought hits my mind. Somehow, at this moment, I feel responsible for Mom and Dad being here and seemingly on the brink of death. An intense urge to apologize hits me, nearly knocking the wind out of me, and I turn to Onesti. "I'm ready." My voice is scratchy and low from the unshed tears resting in the back of my throat.
Gripping Onesti's hand tight enough to break it, I take an unsteady step forward to enter the room. My heart is pounding in my ears, my shoulders are tight, my knees are knocking, and beads of sweat burst onto my forehead.
This is it! This is it! This is ? —
"Oh God! Come on, man!" I shout, halting my steps, and Onesti's body jerks from the sudden stop.
Machines with wires and tubes cover both Mom’s and Dad's bodies, making it impossible for me to contain the tears I've been blocking. My legs give out, causing me to fall to my knees, and I pound the porcelain with one hand while tears fall heavily from my eyes.
"Why y'all do this to me, man? I asked you to go to rehab, Mom. Damn. Why, man?" I can't prevent the tremor in my voice, and melancholy wraps me in a suffocating embrace.
"Asaiah. Asaiah. Please. You're gonna hurt yourself," Onesti pleads, getting on the floor trying to stop me from punishing it.
"I ain't ready for this shit. It's like neither of their asses considered me in this shit. Why the fuck couldn't they love me enough to choose life, man?" My wet eyes connect with Onesti's misty ones, and I fall into her, succumbing to the pain exploding in my chest.
Thunderous wails escape my mouth, and Onesti's arms wrap around my body, securing me as best she can.
"Shh! I got you. I got you, Asaiah," she declares, rocking me back and forth.
"This shit hurts so fucking bad, sweet baby."
Zzt. Zzt.
Vibrating from my pocket has me shaking my head because I'm in no mood to talk to anyone. Ignoring the call, I work to regain my composure, but the reality of this situation returns, and my tears fall like water from my eyes. The heavy antiseptic smell in the room is turning and churning my stomach, making my nose twist.
Zzt. Zzt.
"Do you want to answer? I can move," Onesti asks when my phone starts vibrating a minute after the first call.
Nodding subtly, I wait for Onesti to release her hold and retrieve my phone to see Annalise's name on the display.
"Shit! It's my sister. I ca-can't?—"
"How about I answer it and advise her to come?" Onesti asks.
Passing the device over to her, I allow her to help me to my feet and then move like a snail closer to the individuals responsible for giving me life.
* * *
"Father, in the name of Jesus, I ask that you comfort Brother Harrison and Sister Annalise in their hour of bereavement. You alone are able to lift up their bowed-down heads. You alone are able to wrap your arms around them. You alone are able to wipe the tears from their eyes. Be their peace in the midnight hour, oh God. Be their strength in the days, weeks, and months to come. When family, friends, and well-wishers return to their lives, stand in the gap as only you can. Let them know that there is nothing too hard for you and that you can be strong in their weakness. Thank you in advance. In the matchless name that is above every name, I pray. Amen."
Squeezing Annalise's shoulder, I lean over and kiss her cheek when Pastor Reece ends his prayer. Pastor Reece called ten minutes after Onesti spoke to Annalise, and I let her bring him up to speed about what was happening. Shortly after Annalise and Pastor Reece arrived, a doctor came in to let us know there was nothing else medically they could do for my mom and dad. Although I expected the news, it still knocked the wind out of me to hear the confirmation. Hearing the news had Annalise falling apart, forcing me to keep her upright until her man, Justin, intervened.
"Call me crazy, but I had hope that they would get it together and we would be able to sort out our issues," Annalise utters.
"Me too, sis. I guess time ran out on all of us," I co-sign.
My eyes are bouncing between the unmoving shells my parents are no longer residing in, and chills flow through my body. We're waiting for the funeral home to come pick up Mom and Dad because the doctor is signing off on their deaths, removing any holds on their bodies.
"I'm gonna miss her calling me Lissie-Pooh and him dancing off-beat whenever 'Smooth Criminal' played on the radio," Annalise adds, bringing a weak smile to my face at the distant memory from our childhood.
"I know you might not have many reference points but hold on to the good times you had with them," Pastor Reece interjects before I can reply to Annalise.
"Good times with Andre and Valerie in their sparsity will definitely be held on to. Maybe Asaiah has more than I do, but the dark days outweigh the bright ones," Annalise utters in a dejected tone that pinches my chest.
"When the storms of life are raging and the billows roll. So glad He shall hide me. Safe in His arms. Soo… glad… he… shall… hide… me. Safe in His arms," Onesti sings lowly, comforting my weary soul despite the heaviness in the room.
"That's right, Ms. Onesti. We're definitely safe in His arms," Pastor Reece co-signs, and Onesti repeats the last line several times.
"Safe in His arms. Oh, no matter what we go through, we're safe in His arms," Onesti sings softly before trailing off into a low hum that soothes me with her presence here through this ordeal.
"On that note, I'm gonna head to my hotel. I need to reset. I'll call you when I'm settled, Asaiah," Annalise says before breaking our close proximity and exiting the room with Justin hot on her heels.
Dang, sis, I can't even count on you to hold me down when Mom and Dad have passed.
A warm hand slides into mine, squeezing gently, causing me to look to my right to see Onesti standing with me, giving me a weak smile.
"I love you," I whisper, feeling the rasp in my vocal cords from the lingering emotion in my body.
"I love you more. I'm here," Onesti reassures me.