Daquan's pov.
"Ma, I ain't gon' end up like Uncle Fletcher, hell, not even like cousin Anthony, Ma." She laughs.
"You know what Daquan? Das the same thing they told me and look where they are," she goes back to chopping her onions,"all spending Christmas up in that nasty ass prison bc of drugs, son."
"Ma, not me ahhh. I'mma go to college and get a degree and buy a new house. Have a good ass, legal job. God, I be swimming in dollar$." Laughing, I can almost see myself in these riches.
"I know, son. You always were my brightest kid. Running in your aunts' living room like a maniac, begging me to listen to you read." She laughs a deep laugh. "Eyes so full of hope."
"Yeah, Ma. I'mma be everything they never could be. I swear." I have to succeed. My brothers all messed up, crack addicts living downtown and my sister, a hoe, even though she pretends she ain't. I've seen her. Hoe.
She stops chopping her onions and raises the knife towards me. "Now you listen, they tried to do the best they could, ok? Don't act like you don't know better than to talk smack just like you just did. You gotta remember where you came from when you all up there doing, the Lord knows what, we ain't never did."
"Ma, chill. I know-"
"Shut up! I ain't done yet. Why you gotta interrupt yo mama like dat? I know I ain't teach you how to disrespect like dat now, did I?"
I shrug, "No Ma'am."
"Yeah. Anyway, as I was saying. You better remember your roots and how I was strugglin' wit yo ass tryna raise decent kids up in diff'rent shelters. Always runnin' from shit I don't even know.." she starts tearing up, "all I'm sayin' is.." she wipes her tears and walks towards me. "Make me proud, son." I hold out my arms for her to walk into and hold her for a while.
"Yeah, Ma." I say into her new weave and stroke her back like my dad never did.
We stay like that long enough for the pot to start smelling like burnt charcoal and my mom goes back to stand infront of the stove to finish dinner.
"All I gotta do is mail another few more colleges and the hope for the best." I say, before pulling my snapback over my fresh haircut.
"Yeah, tell me how it goes when they respond. I'm prayin' for you. The Lord knows I am."
I walk towards the apartment door and laugh. After so many years of praying and calling unto the Lord, my mother still believes in Him even though we still in the struggle and he ain't never lift a finger to help us out? Asshole.
"Yeah yeah. I be over at Kermit's. Don't wait up." I say and run down the staircase of our apartment block.
...
I've been banging at this old door for more than ten minutes and still no one opened up.
"Yo Kermit! Open up these damn locks!" I shout.
"Oh, my man." He slurs behind the door. I swear if he is high..
"All these latches.. are for ahh" He unlocks them one for one. I try to keep track of them as he unlocks but, I lose track and kick at the door, impatiently. Why so many though?
"Yo Kerm. Why you gotta make me wait so damn long man. I been at this old ass door for twenty. If you don't open, I swear, I ain't playin'." I say.
"Holl up, holl up." He holds up his hand to silence my complaints. "You ain't even text me before this. Why you actin' as if I-"
I push past him and walk through the masses of marijuana clouds that have fought their way past the source to fetch me at the door.
"It's 'ight man. Where you been tho?" I know exacly where he's been but, I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Uh, nigga you know. I been around." He flicks his lighter and plops himself down on his ridiculous couch.
"Around huh? Why you gotta lie?" I pick at the holes burnt and engraved in the arm of the couch.
"Nigga, why you talkin' as if you know my life, you mad bro?" He laughs and tries to light his blunt.
"Hey, I'm just sayin' and I know you ain't gon' light dat killer up infront of me now." I raise a brow up at him.
"Ahh, always comin' over and preachin' your damn things, get yo ass up. Up!"
I laugh. "It's okay, man. Tis your house in anycase.."
"Wow, oh so now it's my crib? It took you.. wait, one two three.."
I lift my hands and laugh, "Nigga, I get it. Shut up."
"Why you here in anycase?" He grabs the remote and turns on the television.
"Basketball please." I put in my request before he decides on some crazy cartoon for kids.
"First I can't smoke, now, I can't watch Phineas and Ferb. Nigga are you tryna be my mother?" He throws the remote at me and I duck before it hits me in my face.
"What you mean? I'm ya older brother dumbass." He laughs as he stands to get something from underneath his makeshift kitchen counter.
"Ay yo Daq, I was downtown and saw Louise standing wit some wannabe pimp on the corner of O'Malley's. Oh my gad. She hot. I mean, real hot."
"Don't be talkin' about my sister like dat Kerm. You know better." I warn and watch his face break into the biggest grin before he laughs.
"Ay" he cracks up, "sorry man. I swear to-"
"Shut up. Just-"
"AY!" He throws his hands up. "NIGGA LOOK INTO MY DAMN EYES." His eyes are the last thing I want to look into. It has lost its' original hazel and is now replaced by two black holes. Junkie.
"Eyes my foot. Get over here and watch the game wit me."
"Yeah yeah," he places two beers on the coffee table infront of me and sits down. "Can't hear shit, man. Turn up the volume."
"Open up your goddamn ears." I tease.
"Ass." He challenges.
"Dumbass." I say and watch as my favourite team leads the game into the first half.
