Prima Donna (17 page)

“
I let you get away with so much for so long that the shit you did became a big- ass joke to you. I should’ve known you weren’t shit when you cheated on me twice, when you stood me up fifty-million times, when you gave me the silent treatment when you were the one who was wrong.” She sniffled.

“
I should’ve walked away from yo’ ass then, but like a dummy I stayed ’cause I thought you would eventually change. I believed you every single time you sat in my face and told me that you wouldn’t hurt me anymore. Every time you promised me you’d do better I prayed to God and I said, ‘God, please let this time be different’.”
McKinley looked up at the sky and let her tears fall from out of the corners of her eyes.

“
And every time,” she looked back down at his headstone, “you made me out to look like a complete and utter idiot. You hurt me so much that it got to the point where I’d rather put up wit’ your shit than be alone. My love for you became more important than my self-worth. I knew in my head that the way you treated me wasn’t right, but I wanted to be with you and be in a relationship so bad that I made myself believe that the things you did to me were okay.” She cried uncontrollably.

“
I forgot that real love doesn’t hurt all the time. Yeah, in a relationship you have problems, but we had a problem every other day.
Every
day.” She stressed the word every. “When I woke up every morning, I’d wonder,
What’s going to happen today?
With you I had to always be on guard ’cause I never knew what you were going to do next. Then, after I thought you’d done everything humanly possible to hurt me, you go and die on me. And I thought that was the worse, but then you sucker-punched me again.” She threw up her hands then slapped them down onto her thighs.

“
I learned that not only were you married with kids, but that you had a whole nother girlfriend and kids. Hell, I wasn’t even your mistress. I was your number two girlfriend. So I guess you never had any intention on marrying me. You only proposed to me to keep me content a little while longer.” She broke down and cried even harder.

After a short pause, McKinley wiped her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“
I swear to God I wanna hate you so bad, but I can’t.” She shook her head.

“
I’m just mad as hell at myself for letting things go on so long. But I’m here today, Jamil, to tell you that despite everything you’ve done to me. I still love you, but I’m letting you go.” McKinley took her engagement ring out of her purse.

“
There will be no more wondering and guessing what your intentions were ’cause it was what it was. You were a liar and you didn’t mean me any good and that’s all I need to know now.” She placed the ring on top of his headstone, caught up in the moment.

Before walking away, McKinley took one last look at Jamil’s grave. This would be the first and last time she’d ever visit him. It was now time for her to put the past behind her and move on to the good part of her life that God had in store for her. As she walked toward Kristen’s car, McKinley quickly came to her senses and ran back over to Jamil’s grave and picked up the ring.

“
I may be dumb, but I ain’t stupid. I can put this muthafucka on eBay.”

Epilogue

After visiting Jamil’s grave, life for McKinley got even easier. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She was able to breathe again without feeling like she was going to be sick. Sleepless nights no longer existed. She was finally at a place of peace. But there was one thing she had left to do.

McKinley stood on the balcony of her apartment. The sun was out in full view. Birds were chirping and the leaves from the trees swayed in the wind. With her phone in her hand, McKinley said a silent prayer to God.
God, please don’t let him have forgotten about me.
She dialed Koran’s number. For the last six months she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. She missed him dearly and couldn’t wait to hear the sound of his voice again.

“
Hello?” he answered in a low and raspy tone.

“
Hi,” McKinley uttered softly.

Koran held the phone close to his ear and smiled. He’d been waiting for this day for months.

“
It took you long enough,” he finally said.

“
I know.” McKinley laughed. “I miss you.”

“
I miss you, too.”

“
So when can I come see you?” Koran asked.

“
The sooner, the better.”

The Way It Is

**By Cat Eyez

Acknowledgements

I would be remiss in my duty to my Creator if I didn’t thank Him first and foremost for blessing me to be in His great Universe alive and well. Thank You Heavenly Father.

I would like to acknowledge all those who have been by my side and who have supported me over the years. You know who you are. I want you to know you are appreciated.

I want to say to my “haters”, or rather to those who just “misunderstand,” a brother. You know, those who see me on a regular, her in the belly of the beast, who think I act funny because I don’t want drink, or get high with you and don’t want to indulge in foolishness that will keep a brother down in life and not up, I’m not in any way above anyone. I come from the bottom like all my brothers in the belly of the beast who are from the hood. Through the help of Almighty God in my life now, I see things differently. I see that I’m bigger than the devilish mentality I inherited from the streets. God doesn’t give birth to “thugs”. God gives birth to upright “thinkers”! It’s only when we cut the bullsh**, and stop acting like men and start BEING men, that we will stay our ass out of prison and away from early graves! So if you want to say I act funny because I don’t want to be ignorant anymore, cool. Roll with whatever blows your hair back. As for me though, I’m moving forward.

Shout out to my true Blackband Brothers because the community needs our leadership. Let’s stand strong and help rebuild what we, through ignorance, help to destroy.

Lastly, I dedicate this book to a good brother of mine, “Calvin Morgan” (L.C.). Thank you for buying typewriter ribbon, so I could type my manuscript and thanks for encouraging me to continue to write; you are appreciated. Also, Marvin Graham, what up?

Finally to Keisha Ervin and Rose Jackson-Beavers, thank you for allowing me to take this journey with you. I appreciate you and wish nothing but happiness and success for you both.

The Way It Is

1
YOU DON' BUMPED YOUR HEAD

“
Ese muchacho va apprender que tene que respectar sus mallores.” (That young man is gonna learn the hard way to respect his elders.) The Hispanic elderly man uttered to himself as he watched Derrick's car slowly passing by like it was a hearse in a funeral session. The young man was slumped down in the driver's seat and leaning sideways. He was sitting so low in his ride that only his dark-blue New York Yankee's baseball cap could be seen. His music was blasting hard and outrageously loud to rapper Jay Z's “Hard Knock Life,” sending shockwaves through the neighborhood. It was Sunday morning and considered blatantly disrespectful by the elders and the religious communities for anyone to be blasting music as loud as Derrick’s speakers were while church service was being conducted. Derrick, however, didn't give a damn. He looked over at the elderly Hispanic man and saw him fixing his face in an agitated fashion. The elderly man shook his head in the negative at Derrick's ill demeanor. Instead of Derrick refraining from interfering with the peace of the elderly man and church service that was being held at the church on the corner of the neighborhood, he gave the elderly man his middle finger and turned his music up even louder. “Boy, turn that music down. Haven’t you any respect?” the elderly man yelled.

“
Won't you put some teeth in your muthafuckin mouth?” Derrick shot back.
Fuckin' old folks always thinking a nigga gotta give them some respect. I ain’t gotta do a damn thing. Fuck them!
he said to himself.

The elderly Hispanic man grabbed his cane, got up from his chair on his porch and went inside his house. “Yo tengo la edad para ser el padre del joven pero el me falta el respeto como si furea alguien de su edad. Perdonalo senor Dios.”

(I am old enough to be the young man's father, but he disrespects me like I'm someone his age. Heavenly Father, forgive him.)

$$$$$

Derrick continued mobilizing through the hood. He was smoking on some of the greenest and potent weed on the west side of Charlotte, North Carolina,
where there were more young black men roaming the hood without fathers in their lives than there were police patrolling the streets where the young men hustled. Derrick was one of them; a young man, eighteen years old to be exact, without a father figure in his life. He had just graduated the previous year from high school, and only had one thing on his mind—getting money. He certainly had reasons.

He took a left on Lanordo Street and parked in the lot of an apartment that rested right at the corner of Lanordo and Bivens Street. He killed his engine and exited his candy-apple-red chromed-out old-school Chevy Impala. He was wearing a white khaki polo shirt, blue jeans by Calvin Klein and all-white Air Force Ones. Derrick's jeans were so oversized that when he walked they fell below his buttocks. Had he been in a prison environment wearing his pants in such manner, some male looking for a young man to become his prison bitch would walk up to him without warning and touch him on his ass cheeks in hopes of having an intimate affair. Or, worse, rape him!

He took a deep drag from his marijuana cigarette, released the smoke from his nostrils after holding it in a few seconds, then said with both his hands lifted skyward: “The world is mines!” His little eleven-year-old brother, Mike-Mike, was sitting on the front steps of their apartment, playing with his basketball.

“
Who are you now, Scarface?” his little brother said.

“
Damn right. I'm Tony Muthafuckin' Montana!”

“
Derrick, boy, you high. Betta not let Momma see—”

Before Mike-Mike could finish his sentence, their mother came out of their apartment. She marched toward Derrick, screaming, “I know you ain’t smoking a blunt out here in my yard, Derrick.” She reached for it. Although high as the sky, he managed to dodge her attempt. “You don' bumped your head for real. You know I don't pl—”

“
I know, I know, Momma. You don't play that,” he said, cutting her off and tossing the blunt somewhere into the lawn. “I really don't see what the fuss is all about though. It's just weed.”

Arms folded, she repeated, “Just weed?”

“
Yeah, Momma, just weed. A natural herb from the earth.”

“
I wouldn't give a fat baby's backside if it was only an Indian's peace pipe. You find somewhere else to puff on it! That stuff ain’t doing nothing but killing your brain cells.”

“
A'ight then, whatever. If I wanted to hear a sermon I would have gon’ to church,” he muttered.

“
What you say? I promise you, boy, I'll knock your teeth straight down your damn throat.”

“
Yeah, and I'll forget all about you, too,” Derrick uttered to himself. “This woman needs a man in her life. Every day she finds something to trip about,” he said, under his breath, walking toward Mike-Mike. He put his open palm on top of his little brother's forehead and slightly pushed it back. “What’s up, knucklehead?”

“
Nothing,” replied Mike-Mike. “Just practicing my skills. I got a mean crossover, look.”

Mike-Mike started dribbling his basketball around and in and out of his legs.

“
Try to take the ball from me, Derrick.”

Derrick positioned himself to take the ball, but when he reached for it; his little brother did a crossover move on him so smooth and sweet that Derrick nearly broke his ankle in his attempt to take the ball. “Okay, lil bruh. I see you got mad skills.”

“
Told you.”

“
Keep it up and you might end up in the NBA one day.”

“
Might?”

“
You've gotta work hard also on your schoolwork. What your report card look like anyway?”

“
I passed to the next grade. Didn't I, Momma?” Their mother was still standing there with her arms folded. Before she could reply, Mike-Mike added, “You know my birthday’s tomorrow.”

“
And?”

“
And you promised me that you were gonna buy me some Air Force Ones. The all-white ones like yours.”