Chapter 24 Mali
MALI
The liquor harshly flowed down my throat.
I tried to wrap my mind around the hole I’d dug myself into.
I knew I needed to get with Beans to make some shit shake; that alone was going to be a task within itself.
The one thing about Beans, the nigga didn’t do favors, and here it was, I needed to ask him for one.
Kareem loved music; to him, it was his life and his escape.
Although I ran, I was hoping the nigga eased up to buy me time.
I knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t deliver, not now.
After all that shit, my conscience wouldn’t let up.
After hearing what happened to Symphony’s father, guilt became my friend.
It had added to the things I was already dealing with since the day I went to that damn party.
The way that night played in my head over and over was a constant reminder of my mistakes and how I let my mother die. The days and nights merged into one.
Since we walked through the door, I knew Chevy was ready to let his fly trap roll.
I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me.
I called him because I knew this would happen, and it was better to deal with it now than later.
While I waited for his cutthroat lecture, I poured myself another shot to ease my mind a bit more before he got started.
I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed. Nobody understood the shit I dealt with daily, but my liquid lover knew how to numb me just enough to get me through anything.
I heard him ask. “What did you get yourself into, Mali?”
Another shot. This time, when I took it back, I let the sharp taste of the Whiskey rest on my tongue before sending it down my throat. “You don’t have to worry about it, Chev,” I mumbled.
I could feel his energy was dark, angry, and ready to condemn me. I pulled myself away from the counter as I looked up at him. “I’m good, Chevy, just trying to figure shit out.” I shrugged.
He looked at the bottle on the counter, then at me.
“You like Whiskey, huh? How much do you drink a day? You know, I see you when you’re around, staggering and shit, words spewing from those drunken lips.
Tell me what you’re trying to figure out because it damn sure isn’t your relationship with that shit! ” he barked as he pointed to my bottle.
I waved him off. “I don’t have a problem, I’m good. You're mad cause a nigga likes to take a sip here and there? All you niggas drink, so what makes me fucking different? Or are you mad because I won’t let you be the hero in my story?”
Chevy chuckled. “Hmph. Ok, Mison. I tell you what, you’re right.
You don’t have a problem, and a nigga like me is Stevie Wonder, I don’t see shit.
What I do know is you, my guy, got yourself into some shit that can cause trouble for the Zoo,” he paused as he came closer to me.
“The Zoo, the place you niggas wanted to be. The place that’s built on making your wrongs right, but you are going to fuck around and be hanging from a rusted pole fucking with me.
You got brothers who need you. So, I’m going to ask again, nigga!
What the fuck did you get into? Is it with that nigga Kareem? ”
I could see his eyes judging me. Anything I wanted to say, I wouldn’t. Fuck Chevy. He didn’t know me; he only knew what he saw and ran with it. I waved his ass off again, “Man, I’m good. You can go!” I spat.
He nodded. I was waiting for more of the crass comments, the lecture, the criticism, but I got nothing.
Instead, he walked out of my front door.
When he left, I turned back to the counter and stared at the bottle.
I picked it up slowly and poured another shot.
I eyed the full glass, staring it down. Why was he mad? My problems were mine, not his.
That was the thing, this perfectly tinted brown liquid loved me as I loved it back.
People disappointed you, people let you down, but this tiny shot of liquid stayed faithful.
People wanted me to hate something that did nothing to me but make me happy.
I mean, yeah, I drink, and some days I have a little more than others, but a nigga was good.
My father, now that nigga had a problem, and I was nothing like him. I snatched the shot and chugged it down as I thought about the situation with Scooter. “Fuck!” I grumbled.
Moments later, the sound of my brothers coming through the door caught my attention. “Mison!” Xavier called out.
As soon as he and Jalen came around the corner, they stopped. “Yu-yu-you gu-gu-gg-good?” Jalen asked.
I stood from the stool. “I’m good, just got caught in something minor.”
Xavier watched me. His eyes burned into mine. “Nigga what the fuck are you talking about, minor? We were all over the city looking for you. Let me guess, you don’t remember?”
My head flew back, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Nigga it means you were drunk off your ass and got snatched the fuck up! Jalen signed.
Zay threw his hands up, “I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m done chasing your ass. I’m going back to campus. If you need me, don’t fucking call. Call Chev as you did before. I don’t have time for this shit!” he spat as he left the kitchen.
A few seconds later, I heard the door slam.
Xavier had come to my rescue plenty of times, and just as every other time, I felt bad.
I knew it wasn’t his responsibility to do it, but the nigga was my brother, and if it were him in a jam, I would be there, Johnny on the fucking spot.
Jalen eyed me but didn’t say anything; he simply walked off as well.
Fuck! I didn’t understand why everyone was pissed at me when it was me who got snatched the fuck up by Kareem’s crazy ass.
I snatched my iPad off the counter to send a message to Beans.
It was the only device I had until I got a new phone.
The good thing about it was that it was connected to my phone.
Before I could send him a message, I noticed I had a notification on the Orange-O-Gram app.
When I saw who it was, a smile eased on my face.
I snatched the bottle from the counter as I walked over to the living room and plopped down on the couch.
Symphony’s pretty ass was in my inbox. I knew calling Beans should have been my first option, but Symphony Harrington was a one-in-a-lifetime chance, and a nigga like me wasn’t going to miss out.