The Untelling of Love & Happiness

The Universe 101; cont'd 5

Chp. 5: Sucks To Be You

"If you ain't paid attention, think it's good if you do/ I never live a lie but this life too good to be true..."
-Kent Jones

Huffin' and puffin', I just sat and listened. I didn't say shit. I couldn't. Aunt Tammy was pissed the fuck off, too. I can't even blame her, though. I was pissed, also. She had to leave Uncle Johnnie, Matthew and Hope at The Children's Museum to come pick me up from the precinct. Well, technically her ass didn't have to come pick me up. Queen had everything handled like she was fuckin' Olivia Pope. Her and Sasha made sure to get my aunt's keys and me and Pat's cell phones before we were placed into the cop cars. I'm so grateful, too, because my ass would be in even bigger trouble if my aunt's car got towed. And I owe Patrick a solid after this shit blows over. Maxine, his soon-to-be baby mama, she came waddlin' up there to bail us out. I gotta figure how to get him his money back 'cause he don't know me, he didn't have to do that shit for me. He could've posted bail and then left my ass there but he did it off the strength of us both bein' Bloods and I respect him for that. I got a feelin' we gon' be boys for a long time after this.

"Now which of us callin' Rhonda?" Aunt Tammy sassed.

I remained silent. I don't care what she fuckin' do. And she can't make me call my mama. So she might as well stop talkin'.

"You 'shamed? Oh now you wanna be ashamed of yo'self? You were big and bad when you called yo'self stomping a hole in somebody but now you mute. Okay!" Aunt Tammy taunted.

I don't know, bro, but since I been in Houston, I been givin' my aunt pass after pass after pass. She just ain't got the wrath yet, but I'm on my last leg with her ass. I'm finna start gettin' in her shit. She be tryin' me like I'm one of her fuckin' kids. If Lil Bit was here, I'd have to hear about livin' under Aunt Tammy's roof and respectin' her house and shit but I ain't ask to come stay here. Whatever deal, her and my mama made, that's on them. I ain't 'bouta be belittled and shit just because I'm a supposed child and she's a so-called adult. Fuck that shit! Just like she talks to Matt and Hope, that's how she gon' to talk to me. She talk to her kids like they grown-ups, and yeah, she'll whoop 'em every now and then but mostly, she got 'em actin' like lil' white kids with feelings and opinions and shit that normal black mama's don't allow black kids to have.

"If it was up to me, yo' lil' ass would be spending the weekend in jail. You better get your shit together, Trevor! This isn't a goddamn game. You did juvie so you think you got it all handled. It's nothing like prison... you better ask your daddy since you think it's a joke. Or hell, ask your mom." Aunt Tammy causally stated.

"Aye bro, fuck you, aight!" I barked, now ready to climb from the car. And that's what I'ma do at the next light. Fuck her! She ain't my damn mama. I don't gotta listen to what the fuck she have to say. I ain't gotta take the disrespect that she dishin' out either. "Don't talk about my fuckin' mama like that."

She hit her brakes, shocked at my words, "I'll say what I want about my sister. She was my sister before she was your mom."

I guess my bark wasn't enough, "I don't give a fuck who you are!" I said, roarin' to assert my seriousness. "Don't bring up that prison shit when you talkin' 'bout my mama ever again. I don't like that shit. And I'm not playin' with you!"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Aunt Tammy scoffed.

"Who you think you talkin' to, my nigga?" I rebutted, beyond angry.