Love and a Gangsta (19 page)

“What?”

“I wanna feel you in me right now,” I pleaded, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling at his belt.

He was confused for a short moment, but then got with the program no longer questioning my actions. We both dropped to the kitchen floor and stripped away our clothes. I felt the coldness of the tiles against my back as Omar climbed in between my legs with us being in the missionary position. He was so hard and inside me, opening me up with his width. My fingernails
tore at his backside, leaving long scratches down his back.

About an hour later, we were still sprawled out naked on the kitchen floor. I gazed into Omar’s eyes and then gave him a kiss on his lips. “I love you,” I said.

“I love you too, baby, even though you be buggin’ out sometimes,” he said.

I laughed.

“We gonna be a family, America.”

Kissing my belly he rubbed it. I smiled so hard that it hurt. That’s all I needed to hear from my man. I stared at him as he played with my belly. Then he pressed his ear to my stomach listening. I smiled and laughed.

“Baby, it’s too early to hear or feel anything yet.”

“I know, but I just enjoy touching you. You and my son are so precious to me. I definitely want this family to happen. I did something last night that I never did before, America. I got on my knees and prayed for us to be a healthy family. You believe that, I prayed. I feel this baby changing me already,” Omar said.

What I felt at that moment warmed me like the sun itself. I was speechless, but so moved. Tears trickled down my face.

“You’ve been good to me since the first time we met. It’s time for me to return the favor,” he said wiping away my tears.

It felt oh so good making love again and again in the same spot on the kitchen floor. I was never happier.

Our life is simply a reflection of our actions.
If you want more love in the world,
Create more love in your heart.
If you want more competence in your team,
improve your competence.

 

 

 

Reading Rahmel’s letter nearly sent me into tears. Upstate, he held me down and I was glad to hear that my dude was doing okay. I had written him a letter three weeks after my release and informed him what was going on with me. I couldn’t keep him in the dark. He helped me so much and I definitely needed to keep in contact with him.

The job at the center was going good. It kept me busy. Mr. Jenkins helped keeping me focused. When he had the chance he’d counsel me on everything and always inquired about America.

The kids at the center took a liking to me. Some had heard of my past reputation and respected me. They even questioned me about being in jail. We discussed aspects of the streets. There were those who wanted to know about how to get paid. There I’d shrugged and continue with my work with Jim, the senior janitor.

Jim was a comedian. He was in his mid fifties and survived Vietnam, the civil rights movement, the crack epidemic and and his ex-wife.

“You wanna know why a divorce is expensive, Omar?” he’d asked.

“Nah, why?”

“Because they’re worth it,” he joked.

I laughed.

“Shit, the bitch would’ve probably had one of my nuts too, if they weren’t attached.”

I continued to laugh at his antics about his ex wife.

“Omar, what you call a redneck farmer with two sheep under his arm?” he asked.

“What?”

“A playboy,” he replied.

He was a riot. We were checking the lights in the hallway when Cindy walked by in skintight jeans and a T-shirt.

“Hi Omar,” she greeted cheerfully.

“What’s up,” I replied nonchalantly.

She smiled at me and continued down the hall. Jim and I paused for a moment and stared at her backside.

“Damn,” Jim whistled. “Problem with me and ‘em young girls is soon as I’m in, I’m out. Beating up pussy’s overrated for an old dude like me.
I’m gonna need Viagra and a jump-start to get at that pussy,” he laughed.

“Jim, you too much,” I chuckled.

“I see she wanna throw some o’ that at you, Omar. I can tell,” he said.

“Too young for my blood, Jim, what she’s like seventeen, eighteen?”

“Eighteen and a sweetheart,” he smiled.

“Besides, I’m a married man now.”

“I said that to myself four years ago, and then the bitch divorce me a year later.”

“How long you been working here?” I asked.

“Ten years now. Mr. Jenkins he’s a good dude, Omar. I have nothing but love and respect for that man. He looked out for me, helped me out through rehabilitation and then got me this job after I was two years clean.”

“You were on drugs?” I questioned.

“Man, after Vietnam I got married to my wife and moved in with the needle. I spent my honeymoon sick in the bathroom in a cheap ass motel. I got my wife hooked on heroin soon after our wedding and we both went through hell. Turned around and got on the pipe in the eighties. I was more faithful to crack than I was to my wife. Reason being it treated me better, Omar,” he said.

“Yeah, hmm.”

“My wife got cleaned in ninety one, after our kids were taken away from us and put in a group home. She went into rehab and threatened to divorce me if I didn’t do the same. Like I said, I couldn’t leave the crack alone, man. Just thinking about getting high used to get my dick hard.”

“You got kids, Jim?” I asked incredulously.

“Three, my oldest is about your age, twenty-four. Last time I saw him, he was on trial for murder. He shot a man to death for a dime bag. Twenty-five years to life they gave him. Twenty-five to life.”

“Damn!” I muttered shaking my head.

“I wasn’t around to raise him. I was either in jail, or too high to even care. My second boy is twenty, and I haven’t seen him in six years. Last I heard about him, he was doing stickups. I gotta sixteen-year-old daughter.
She’s a bitch like her mother. Can’t even keep her fuckin’ mouth and legs close long enough to walk and talk straight. She already got a one-year old son. And she’s pregnant again by some old muthafuckin’ hustler type,” he said.

I was quiet, as he talked. There was anger in his voice.

“Yeah, Omar, we far from them Cosby’s.” He shrugged. “I can’t blame the kids for being so fucked up. I have to shoulder the blame. If I was any type of father, their lives would’ve been better. But I wasn’t around to guide and talk to them when they were young. I didn’t care; I was stupid. I took better care of my drugs than I did with them.”

“What happened to your ex-wife?”

“That bitch been clean now for over fifteen years. She got her life together, remarried, and moved down to Charlotte, North Carolina and started another family with another husband.”

“She just forgot you and her kids just like that?” I asked.

“I guess the bitch wanted new memories and so on. We haven’t talked in years. She was a fine piece of ass when we got married in ninety-three. Met her after I left detox. We clicked and the bitch got pregnant a year after we met. But the baby died due to complications during my wife’s pregnancy. After that, I stopped trying to have any more kids. Besides, the three that I had were fucked up anyways. Mr. Jenkins supported me through some hard times and once I got this job, I never looked back,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Jim…”

“What you sorry for, Omar? It’s all my fault. You don’t apologize to a man unless you have to. My choice cost me my family. That’s what drugs do; they make you forget about all-purpose and reality causes a man to be selfish in life. You’re young, so learn from your mistakes, and learn from mines too, Omar.”

After saying that, Mr. Jenkins came casually walking down the hall. He looked at me and smiled, then asked Jim, “How’s he coming along, Jim?”

“He’s workable, Mr. Jenkins. Trying to educate the young man. You know?”

“Sometimes it’s best to observe things with your own eyes than to
listen,” Mr. Jenkins laughed walking down the hall.

Jim and I continued with the task at hand. We always talked and shared stories. He knew about my past as a hustler. Shit, I may even have sold him drugs during his drugged-out years.

It was after nine and I was getting off the job. The night was quiet. Most of the kids and staff had already left the center. I walked outside and Greasy was posted up, talking to one of the young girls from the center. Business seemed good. He was pushing a new silver Lexus and he sparkled diamonds and platinum. Greasy saw me and shouted, “There goes my nigga right there. What’s up cuz?”

I walked over and gave him dap. I’d seen the young girl he was with at the center a few times. She was a cutie, and was into thugs.

“That’s your cousin?” she questioned, staring at me with an inquisitive smile.

“Yeah, this nigga is a muthafuckin’ OG,” Greasy said proudly. “But now this nigga got a job and shit, thinkin’ he Mr. Rogers. You fucking around with these young bitches up in here, Soul? Tell me that’s why da fuck you up in here.”

“What you doing ‘round here, cuz?” I asked.

“Nigga, Greasy came to check you. I wanted to see what’s really good wit’ my nigga,” he said, with shorty clamped tightly under his arm.

“How’d you find out I work here?”

“Nigga, you know we got fuckin’ eyes everywhere. We got young soldiers up in this piece too, my nigga,” he informed. “And you know how I do? Greasy stay lookin’ for some bitches to grease.”

He looked high, talking all loud and erratic. The young girl he was with was only seventeen, and been passed around the young homies from the block a few times.

“Soul, we ‘bout to party tonight, I came to get you. It’s been a minute since we hung out together; you know what I’m sayin’…?”

“I’m a pass on that, Greasy,” I said.

“Nigga, what…? Get the fuck outta here! That Leave-It-To-Beaver-shit ain’t working here. I’m your family, nigga and I got you.”

Greasy pulled out a wad of hundreds, flashing them in front of shorty and me kind of recklessly. “I got the gwap… Everything is on me tonight. You down, luv?”

“Yeah, you know I’m down, baby,” she answered, teasingly pushing up against Greasy.

“What’s up, Soul? We haven’t really chilled together since you came home, nigga. Don’t disappoint me on this tonight. We waiting for her friend to get off. Nigga it’s a nice night, Greasy’s paid, and I got me a fine shorty right here, and her friend is just as fine. We do it like ol’ times, my nigga. ”

“Here comes my friend right there,” shorty smiled and nodded. “Cindy. Cindy, over here.”

I turned around. And oh shit, it damn sure was. It was Cindy from the center, looking sumptuous. A tense sigh, sounding like a whistle, escaped my lips.

“There you go cuz, shorty’s nice.” Greasy smiled, looking at me.