Foolish

Chapter 3

"Let me get a All-Star Special, eggs scrambled with cheese, sausage, raisin toast, hashbrowns scattered, smother, covered and with gravy and a blueberry waffle and a sweet tea," I stood behind my unsuspecting brother as he placed his order at Waffle House. We used to always came here with my mom, every Saturday morning. Although I had been back in Fayetteville for a couple of hours at this point, I had yet to make it to the police station to talk to the detectives handling my parent's case. Because my brother is a fuck ass nigga, he had yet to identify their bodies and Kyleena was still on her flight coming into Raleigh from New Orleans. So that left me. I stood behind my brother trying to suppress all the anger I held inside for him. Devon sat in the red waiting chairs behind me for moral support. My plan was to be nice during this first encounter, I mean I hadn't seen my brother in almost 6 years. Remembering why I haven't seen him pissed me the fuck off all over again. It's one thing for him to ignore Kyleena and I, but the fact that he treated my mother like shit made me want to grab one of those big ass knives from the grill in front of me and slit his throat.

"So, our parents have been dead for a week and your bitch ass has yet to go identify their bodies? I knew you were a fuck ass person but damn Dre, this is a new low..even for the likes of you." The words slipped outta my mouth before I could catch them, and by the time I put the period at the end I no longer gave a fuck. My brother turned slowly to look at me and I almost dropped my bag when he faced me. This man, looked like a shell of who and what my brother was. His blood shot red eyes, grey skin and skeletal face imprinted itself on my brain. As we stared at each other, a little bit of sympathy crept over me. That was quickly overcome by pride. It was clear all the faking and the "holier than thou" bullshit Dre had been feeding these niggas back home in Fayetteville was such a lie. I'm not going to lie and tell yall I wasn't happy to have one up on this nigga.

"Sol-" my brother started as I upbruptly cut him off. "Shut the fuck up Dre. I don't wanna hear shit you have to say. I'm on my way down to police station to identify MY parents. The best you can do, is get your food and meet me the at the fuckin house," I snapped as I turned to walk out the door of the restaurant, but not before Dre snapped back to life and hemmed me up in front of a full crowd of people.

He stared at me for a couple of seconds before he snatched me up to go outside. "Devon, get my fuckin food," Dre growled as he dragged me out of the door. Devon continued to busy himself on his phone as we walked outside. "Listen to me. Even though you're acting like a bitch, I'm not gonna disrespect you like that. You don't WHAT the fuck I've been going through since momma and daddy were killed. I know that because you never answered your fuckin phone, but I'm all of a sudden the fuck up? Where the fuck have you been Solelil? Feels good pointing your manicured finger huh? Sending Momma and Daddy money don't mean a damn thing, not when I had to sit there and-" Dre paused before he continued. " Nah. You damn right you're gonna go down there and identify them. You're the angel, right?," Dre screamed at me with tears in his eyes. I had never seen him look nor act like this. "Now, I'm going to the house. I'm going to eat my food, and wait for Ky. I'll see you at the fuckin house." Dre said with his back turned to me as he walked back in the Waffle House.

I stood outside for a few minutes trying to collect my thoughts. What was really going on? I know Dre and I had our issues, but seeing him this way caught me totally off guard. What was the real reason he hadn't been downtown to identify momma and daddy? Ky said he'd been acting strange, but shit. I knocked on the window to let Devon know I was ready. Before walking out, Devon stopped and mean mugged the shit out of my brother. I had to laugh to myself. That's Devon, always ready.

As we drove through Fayetteville, my emotions were mixed as hell. It's like everywhere I looked there was a memory of Momma and Daddy lurkin' around the corner. The jump house they used to take us to on the weekends. Douglas Bryd High School, where all three of us graduated from, and where momma spent a lot of time at volunteering. The closer we got to downtown, the more surreal it became to me that my parents are actually dead. I would have to look at them knowing they weren't coming back. As we parked, I sat in the car for a minute just thinking quietly to myself. Or so I thought.