A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Part Quaranta

It was my first time ever attending a funeral. Fortunately for us, the funeral was taking place not far away, in Brooklyn, instead of in Philly. The burial was private, and would be happening the next day. The church for the memorial service was on Madison Avenue and Malcolm X Boulevard, a place just as ghetto as my little spot in Harlem.

Most of the service had passed by around 3 o’ clock, when Benny’s mother was just sealing up her speech about her son. A few old and recent pictures flashed on a slideshow to the side of Benny’s mother, Ms. Sealy.

“Benny was all I had after his father passed away from being in the army. Now I’ve lost both of my boys. But one thing Benny taught me was to stay strong. I’m going to stay strong. And out of the love and Christianity of my heart, I forgive whoever did this to him. And my dear Rakim, don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Thank you for treating my son with kindness and generosity. May he rest in peace. Thank you all for coming.” She said.

The mass of people clapped for her, including the pastor. He came back up on the pedestal to say a few more brief words.

“There will be food served outside in the yard. We will not mourn over Benjamin’s death here, but we will celebrate his life. Go on; converse with each other, celebrate!” Pastor John commanded. We clapped some more and then stood up, taking our bags and sweaters to go out for food since we knew we wouldn’t be coming back into the church.

I was sitting in between Rakim and Jordan. Kevon was next to Jordan on the other side. The two boys had light, almost unnoticeable tears in their eyes. Their uncle was gone. I embraced them both before leaving with Rakim. He didn’t say much to me, but he didn’t seem sad, either. We were following the pastor’s directions. We would be happy, and celebrate Benny’s life instead of mourning over his death.

The backyard was sunny and smelled of barbeque. Many people here were people I didn’t know. They were probably Benny’s friends and family. Everyone seemed to know the mob, though. We had kind of made a name for ourselves over the past few months.

“You know how long it’s been since I had some barbeque chicken?!” Rakim shouted once he saw a tray of barbeque chicken on a table across the yard.  I laughed and ran with him over to the chicken, where he took three pieces. Dom came up to Rocky and the two started talking, so I left them alone to go talk to Shandy. She was with Jordan at the opposite table.

“Hey, Mommy and Daddy,” I teased them, examining the food on their table. It was all creative snacks.

“Hey,” Jordan replied. Shandy was caught up in finding the right snack. “She’s been really hungry lately.” Jordan whispered to me. I chuckled and Shandy playfully elbowed him.

“Shut up.” She laughed. “Hi, Tre.”

There were little squares of cheese pushed through toothpicks on one tray. I picked one up and began to nibble. “Have you guys started to think of any names?”

I examined Shandy’s belly once more. She appeared to be from three to four months pregnant. So this little event took place that long ago? It was hard to believe.

“If it’s a girl, I want Brianna. If it’s a boy, I want Bryan.” Jordan offered. I smiled admiringly at his involvement in the names.

“Those are nice!” I exclaimed.

“But,” Shandy started, “that’s not what I want. If it’s I girl, I want Dakota. If it’s a boy I want Dylan.” I laughed. Shandy had always been headstrong. They were definitely going to have a dilemma with these names. I was just happy for them, though. Another day, privately, I would have to get Shandy to tell me all the details about how she lost her virginity, though. That’s something best friends can’t avoid gossiping about.