Chapter 6 Rayzor
Iwoke up before my alarm, barely sleeping through the night after that shit with Eris last night. My morning workout and run was shitty. It was too much on my mental.
It’s Pop’s birthday and usually around this time of year, I kept to myself because it always fucks me up. It’s one of those things that I likely won’t ever forget. When his heart stopped, so did mine. The only difference was I had to live after that.
Going into my garage, I stood inside the dark garage before hitting the gift, offering light to its darkness. Pearl White’s paint danced under the sun bringing the Tahoe to life. It was a bittersweet moment.
This was my collectable. Ma had given it to me for my seventeenth birthday while I was grieving then life changed for the worse after that.
If I could relive seventeen, I’d skip most of the year.
After losing Pops at fifteen, I thought the worst was over.
It wasn’t. Darkness sat in the background until it exploded years later.
Throughout the years, I did ins and outs, revamping it but keeping it in its original state as much as possible. Barely bringing it out. It was the last piece of Pop I had left.
Today was the perfect occasion. I pointed to the sky. “Doing this shit for you, Pop.”
My heart twinged as my back hit the seat. It was still imprinted with his frame. I remember when Pops brought this car home.
Turning the key, I brought it to life like its first breath. I smirked while slowly creeping it out the tight spot, down the driveway and onto the street. When the back two wheels the hit the pavement, it rode out smoothly.
The hour and a half drive to the cemetery was spent in bittersweet solitude of memories of him. That was my first biggest loss I hadn’t bounce back from. A man was supposed to teach his son about life. My lessons were cut short, so I had to thug this shit out.
It was empty when I pulled up.
His gravesite was near the lake; he loved water, fishing and swimming.
That’s one of my favorite pastimes that I’ve neglected.
Haven’t been on a boat since he died. Family reunions at the lake to honor his memory were a sore spot until I couldn’t take it and stopped going.
Then the tradition died. Not long after, the family did too.
A cool grey headstone with boxing gloves engraved under a picture of Gerald “Giant” Kirkland imprinted on it. It’s crazy how life keeps you busy until it’s still and you’re confined to a box under soil. That’s where we all end up, but damn, why Pops had to leave?
I glanced back at the truck. “You see Betsy, Pop?” I chuckled. “Another year, ole’ man.” I smiled at the tomb while taking a squat in front of it.
I knew he was dust and bones but that ain’t stop me from chopping it up with him.
“Damn, the big 50, huh? I always thought you’d throw one of those big ass house parties like you did growing up. You’re supposed to be around to see it.” I chuckled unamusingly.
The silence was confirmation that he wasn’t coming back– that this conversation was one-sided.
“I couldn’t sleep today, but you already knew that. Is it crazy that I wanted you to come to me in a dream? It’s been too many years, Pop. This shit seems like a memory, but the pain’s still heavy.”
The leaves wrestled on the ground.
“Is that the sign?” I chuckled, shaking my head.
“Ma still ain’t fucking with me. I’m still sneaking around to see Leek. Ain’t that some shit,” I mumbled.
Memories of that tragic fucking night came flooding like it didn’t want me to forget.
The small arena had been cleared out.
Gerald “Giant” Kirkland had won another fight.
“Pa, the way you had him on the ropes, I knew he wasn’t coming back from that.”
“I can tell you, son, that wasn’t an easy one. Easy Jones is a tough contender, but yeah, we took home another win,” Pops responded, hand over my shoulder as we exited the arena.
There were small groups of people gathered outside. All congratulating him on his win per usual. We made it to the alley where the car was when someone else stopped. I was always proud of the Pops always got after a win.
“Pa, we gotta get home. I’m already late. Ma’s going to be mad.”
He glanced down over me, rocking a smirk.
Pops was 6’4, large build, bald head and face with a stubbled beard.
His expressions were already mean. You’d think he was the meanest person in the world, but if he knew you, it’s different.
The outside world got a sterner version of dad.
He was tough on me because I was the oldest, but we also had a great relationship. I wanted to be like him when I grew up.
Hands even bigger, he had a mean punch. I’ve seen him knock some of the best out.
Just as we broke through the small crowd, heading to our car down the side street of the arena, I heard footsteps creeping over the puddles of water from the rain earlier that night.
I turned around before Pa. He was loading his bag in the trunk.
“Hey, Giant,” the man said, coming closer.
“Yeah, man, it’s late,” Pops replied, but the man approached anyway.
Pops recognized him and put me behind him.
I couldn’t make out the face. The streetlight glared him out. He was almost tall as Pop and fatter.
“Get in the car, son,” dad instructed, not looking away from the guy.
“We’re both getting in the car,” I retorted. “Or I’m standing right here.”
“You might wanna listen to your father, Courtland.”
My stomach knotted. He knew me, but I didn’t know him.
“Pa, you know him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Pops said sharply. “Get in the car, son.”
“I see he’s hardheaded like you,” the man scoffed. “You’re giving him instructions and he’s disobeying you, just like you did tonight.”
The air went still as they shared an exchange.
“Don’t let him talk to you like that, Pa,” I said.
The guy smirked.
“You should’ve done what your father said, but that’s okay, this a lesson you’ll never forget.”
He charged at us, and my dad protected me, taking the man down. I yelled out while jumping around them as they tussled. The ruffling sounds of the puddles of water splattered under their feet, bodies crashing into the side of the car from Pa throwing him around like a ragdoll.
The crowd rushed around the corner to see what was going on.
Pa had him like the guy on the ropes. Winning. I thought it’d be easy.
Then, out of nowhere, like something out of the movies, his body jerked.
“Pa!” I called out because he tumbled over. The guy had him in his arms. That’s when I saw the knife being pulled from his chest, stained with blood. It stripped rapidly but slowly in my mind.
I rushed over trying to hit the guy, and I did. It connected with his jaw. I heard it crack.
He dropped my dad on the ground, but he didn’t go down. He had to deal with both of us because dad was still fighting although weak. Then the knife went into his side.
I pushed the guy, but he didn’t stumble. His hand went up, and he punched me.
Everything happened so fast. It went from Pa and him to us going at it. I was smaller, but Pa taught me everything he knew. I wasn’t the best, but I didn’t take many losses if it came to fights in the hood.
We tussled. I had him, throwing punch after punch. He pushed me, causing me to stumble, then he hit me with hard. He stabbed me in the face, right in my left eye. The violent smell of metal overtook my senses.
Then it all went black.
My body overheated. Blood trickled down my face. It seeped fast.
He yanked the knife out of my face.
I saw pieces of my flesh on the blade of the knife.
“Ahhhh!” I yelled in agony and pain.
“Son!” Pa yelled.
My vision started to blur.
The crowd yelled, and some even tried intervening before Pa charged him again. This time, Pa fell like a tree.
I couldn’t tell what happened, then the blood seeped from under him.
He grabbed his neck as his eyes stretched wide. Blood gushed out the side like a faucet.
“Pa!” I crawled over to him.
“Giant, man! Get up!” someone yelled.
The crowd surrounded him.
Some even tried to help.
The background faded as he gargled on his blood. I saw something in him that I’d never seen before– fear. He reached out for me, grabbing my coat with all the strength he had left.
I held onto his arm.
I cried over him.
“Come on, Pa.”
The guy slowly backed away from the crowd as they chased him.
I held Pa’s head while my blood leaked down on his face.
“I… love… yo-” he groggily said.
“I love you too, Pa. You’re going to make it.”
His hold weakened. I tried to keep him strong. It wasn’t working.
He closed his eyes.
I felt myself getting weaker. My head throbbed. My body was in pain.
The police sirens got louder as they got closer.
“Pa, hold on. Help is coming.”
His arm dropped to his side.
Before long, everything went black for me, and I passed out.
I woke up in the hospital without an eye, a concussion, and Pops was gone. After that, life took a drastic turn for me that I wished everyday didn’t fucking happen. That’s my biggest regret. I should’ve fought harder.
“I miss you, Pops.” I ran my hand over the headstone.
“I’m keeping my head on a swivel and shit.
You know how I kick it. Career’s going good.
I wish you were here to see it. Leek’s growing up.
I’m trying to be there for him, but Ma’s still making it hard.
The only thing I can do is handle it how she’s throwing it at me. ”
The waves on the lake rolled. I glanced over my shoulder to see the ducks sitting, riding on the streams. At peace. Something I tried to make part of my life, but I was content, not at full peace the way I knew shit could be.
“They treating you aiight up there? You drinking your water? Y’all need water up there or do y’all stay hydrated? Do you even feel thirst? See, there I go rambling again and shit. You know coming here still get a nigga tight. Make me feel like I can’t say the right things.”