Truth Is

Tyler the Teacher

I could not stomach the thought of our clean, honest uncle being a Knights Templar member. The moment Simmons moved his car I asked. Before we could even get ourselves out of the driveway, I needed to kill both my anxiety and the tension in the car.
"Was uncle Tyler a runner for the Knights Templar Cartel?"
I could tell Patrick didn't want to have the conversation because he was giving simple answers unlike his usually responses dripping with detail.
"No."
"Well was he a shooter?"
"No."
"Patrick I'm not going to guess everything the Templars employ until you say yes. Can you tell me what our Uncle Tyler had a Templar gun for?"
I already knew Patrick would allow me to make up new job descriptions and titles before saying yes to the real thing.
"That thing you were doing."
I waited for him to say more assuming he would continue with more detail or a connection or something. He said nothing else to I continued to grill him.
"Pat, What the hell are you trying to tell me. Just spit it out man, I'm old enough to handle the truth."
"Ite bro. Truth is, Uncle Tyler was a Teacher for the Templar."

A Templar teacher was a person who taught people "lessons" for the cartel. The people who torture and kill with the single purpose to get a message across or out for the cartel. Uncle Tyler. My uncle Tyler. I just couldn't believe that the man I idolized for not joining a gang and doing illegal things for money... the man I was proud of for providing for his family, was a killer, cartel related, and a general criminal.
I pretended not to over react on the outside because I knew it was obviously too late to be mad at him. I couldn't help but think about how everyone probably knew except for me. How I was most likely the only one who wondered why Uncle Simmons was at the hospital that night in particular. My many questions and feelings were kept in my head where they were and I simply responded with "Hmmm... Uncle Tyler probably wasn't as ruthless as me."
Though he played it off, I know my response caught Patrick off guard. He took his eyes off the road for a period of two seconds to look me in the eye immediately after I said it. He laughed and said "You right, you're fucking heartless."

Patrick pulled into the parking spot closest to the dumpster near my apartment and his headlights shined on Jackson and Andrea, my crew. Jackson was my homeboy who was the biggest nerd I've ever met. He reminded me of Babyboy, the movie a little bit. Andrea was this swagged out goofy girl who got hollered at daily but only liked girls. Patrick told me not to think to hard about Uncle Tyler. He knew me too well. I lied and said "Man ain't nobody worried bout that old man right now. I'ma talk to you later tho cuzzo." I opened the door and let in the sound of children laughing and screaming and the smell of the dumpster by the car. Right before I closed the car door, he made sure to remind me that he had my back by saying "I love you nigga."

Fresh out the car I felt my waist band seem heavier than it had before. I ignored it though and went to dap up my friends. Jackson was jealous of my family made petty statements like "Well if it isn't the king of the cartel," and "GIVE IT UP FOR THE KILLER OF THE MILLERS, DOCTOR JARRETT MICHAELS!!!!" Tonight was no different. Oh wait. It was. Tonight his words were spot on. "Jay, you torture anybody today?" I let out a laugh followed by "Not in the mood tonight homie." I dapped Andrea up then moved to Jackson and did the same. I walked toward my door and Patrick was pulling off at the same moment I heard the line he had stated. "We love you nigga."
I stopped and turned and said "Man I love y'all too bro."

Upon entering my apartment I could smell the cigarette smoke in the air. I knew that meant that my momma wasn't working tonight. "Took you long enough to get here baby." My momma's voice echoed from the rear of the residence. I walked through the dark hallway to her room and greeted her with my usual "Hey momma," followed by a kiss on her cheek. I asked about her day and walked to my room, where her loud voice still managed to reach with her stories of coworkers that "tried her" and "pushed her buttons." I knew she was waiting for me to come in before she fell asleep, because the moment I sat on my bed and took my shoes off, I heard her speech began to slur and her breathing begin to slowly become a snore. Just like I worry about her, she worried about me. All we had was each other to come home to so our bond showed that.

Once I made sure all the doors were locked, my mom was comfortable, and everything that wasn't being used was turned off I returned to my room to change into something I can sleep in. My belt came first but then I remembered that if I pull my belt off without getting rid of this object in it, it could be the death of me. The end of it all. I pulled the gun I stole from the shed from my belt. It was very heavy and I questioned how I could forget it was on me with it's weight and it's odd and foreign shape to me. I believe I am holding my uncle's gun. The same one he carried around. While he was giving out free lessons and workshops to people who seemed to need them.

While analyzing the grip of the gun, I thought about the things I believed about my beloved Uncle. How I swore he was honest, clean, and correct in everything he did. The image he maintained for me. Me being the youngest of my generation, I believe I am the most impressionable and everyone must've known that as well. However, it was time for me to grow up and handle my responsibilities for my family like my King of an Uncle. I couldn't think of a better time to grow than now, when I have my cousin as my back up and all my friends to look out for me. All I could think while I rapped the gun in a shirt and slid it away into my drawer was "Thank you Uncle Tyler for protecting me from this lifestyle then guiding me to it." I knew he'd kill me if he was here to see me do what I did today.