More Than a Garbage Man . . . #3
Officer White caught her, and they went through their process to handcuff her unruly ass. They let me know that they would need a statement from me. I told them that I would meet them downstairs near the leasing office.
Mark and I walked down to the leasing office. “Man, I’m sorry about that. I’m going to start the eviction process because this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. She moved in less than a month ago, and her neighbors already have filed complaints.”
“That’s a damn shame, man. Well, let me know if you need us to flip the apartment. You know we got you,” I told him.
That kind of service fell under the turn services division of my company. In that division, we handled unit-turn cleaning, clean outs, painting coordination, small repair support, carpet removal, as well as final walk-through support. This community also had a contract with us for that service.
We talked about that as well as some other apartments that he planned to contact me about tomorrow, until Officer Saul came in so that he could get my statement. When it was all said and done with, the woman would be charged with assault and battery in the third degrees as well as resisting arrest.
It was my mother’s idea when I started my company for our workers to wear body cameras.
The world was a crazy place and even crazier for Black people and minorities.
I was a Black man, and I had to take every precaution to protect myself and my employees.
In all my years in business, I only had three incidents, including this one, where my body cams came in handy.
There was only one incident where the fault was with my employee.
That employee was terminated immediately.
Miss Chelsea Taylor learned a hard lesson today: Play pussy, get fucked. I planned to take this shit as far as I could take it. My reputation and integrity were everything, and I would protect it at all costs.
Following Wednesday
Never Too Busy For My Mama . . .
My Wednesdays were busy as hell, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Today was the day that I did my site visits, quality control inspections, and leadership development sessions.
If there were any conversations that I needed to have with my employees around improvement plans, terminations, suspensions, or promotions, they happened on Wednesdays. Everyone knew that too.
While all those factors in my Wednesdays were paramount, what was most important was the time that I spent with my mother. On Wednesdays, my mother had her autoimmune disease management clinic appointments. The clinic time was from nine until eleven in the morning.
My father generally took her to the clinic on Wednesdays, but every once in a while, I took her.
If I didn’t take her in place of my father, she and I had lunch afterward.
My father was busy, so I was her clinic buddy for today.
My father was retired, but his old bones didn’t know how to settle in one place, so he was on my payroll.
He didn’t really have a specific job duty, because he just tinkered around every division to make sure they were upholding the St. Claire standard.
My mother was diagnosed with moderate systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) over twenty-four years ago when I was thirteen years old. Through the years, I learned how to take care of her in the ways that she needed. My father was her main caretaker while my sister, Dove, and I were the secondary.
My mother was the epitome of a Lupus Warrior. She never allowed the disease to run her, even on the days when we knew that she was exhausted or in pain. The days when her brain fog had her in a chokehold, none of that mattered. She fought through it.
Lauren Coral always had a head full of hair.
When her hair started shedding, I thought that she would be devastated.
Nope, not her! She went to her hairstylist that she had for almost all her damn life and cut her hair into a pixie cut.
That was when I was in my early twenties.
All I would say about her new look was that after her haircut, I made sure I called before I came over to my parents’ house to avoid nasty things.
“Mama, why did you order three drinks? Who is this extra drink for?” I asked my mother when I got back in the car after I picked up her Starbucks order. Normally, it was a two-drink order.
She took the drink holder out of my hand and set it on her lap. With her beautiful smile, she responded, “This is for my lil boo, Mazzie.”
My brow arched. My mother was the friendliest, unfriendly person that I knew. “Mama, who is Mazzie? I’ve never known you to be friendly enough to bring someone a drink.”
Her head snapped in my direction. She didn’t say anything until I stopped at the red light.
“First of all, I am a woman of God. God’s love radiates through me.
So no, I am not friendly; I am discerning.
I am a representation of God’s love. Secondly, Mazzie is the sweetest lil thing. You’ll meet her today.”
I just gazed at her for a beat then turned my eyes to the street when the light changed. I had no intention of playing with Lauren Coral today. She was one of the most dramatic people that I knew.
The Queen Charlotte Medical Center, the clinic that my mother attended, was around the corner from the Starbucks that she ordered from. It took no time to get myself, her, as well as all her snacks and drinks that she brought with her inside of the building.
It had been a while since I came to an appointment with my mother. We have had a standing Wednesday lunch for a couple months because of my schedule. It seemed like a lot changed since the last time I sat with her at her clinic visit.
When we walked into the clinic, it was all hellos and heys to my mother. She took the time to introduce me to people that I had already been introduced to before. I followed her to the other side of the clinic that I’d never been on.
“Hey, Jessica. You look so cute today. Yes, hair!” My mother had clearly been with my sister more than she should have been.
Yes, hair! That was not how the best English teacher that I’d ever known spoke to people.
“I want to give this to Mazzie and introduce her to my son,” my mother told the nurse that was behind the desk.
Jessica’s smile was wide and bright. Her fingers combed through her hair. “Thank you, Mrs. Lauren. Girl, that pixie is pixie’ing.”
What the hell is going on? I stood there as they talked about hair for another minute before she let us into that side of the room. The clinic shared the space with the Renal Institution, so I assumed that this was that part of the office.
The room was large with multiple recliner chairs. All the chairs weren’t occupied. The ones that were had a patient, or what looked like a person who accompanied the patient, in it.
“Mazzie!” When my mother called out, a head popped up from the pages of a book. Her lil boo? From where I stood, Mazzie was a thick boo.
Mazzie’s manicured fingernail pushed her glasses up her nose, then the corners of her lips went north. I saw the exhaustion in her smile, but it didn’t take away from her gorgeousness. “Good morning, Mrs. Lauren. You look beautiful this morning.”
My mother blushed. “Thank you, baby. I brought you a treat, and I wanted to introduce you to my baby boy, Falcon.”
Her eyes lifted to me. They widened slightly, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, hi, Falcon. I’m Mazikeen. Your mother talks about you often.”
My attention went to her free hand that she extended to me. When our hands connected, there was an electrical shock that caused both of our hands to draw back quickly. “Oh, wow. Static electricity is a bitch,” I mumbled. “It’s nice to meet you, Mazikeen. You look beautiful today.”
She used her finger to swoop the loose strand of hair behind her ear with a slightly lowered head and high cheeks. “That’s extremely graceful of you. It’s been a long, exhausting morning already.”
Her head was still down. The knuckle of my finger went under her chin to lift her head. “No grace needed. You are gorgeous no matter what kind of morning that you are having.”