RIPPED & READY (PART 57)

RIPPED & READY (PART LVII)
 

     The first step towards healing is when a pointed finger isn't aimed at someone other than one's self.  We are all guilty, at some point in our lives, of trying to blame someone else for our woes and failures when, most of the time, we are our own worst enemy.  For as long as I can remember, Darrius had always walked around with a humungous chip on his shoulders.

     He was too short to play basketball.  

     He was too arrogant to be anything less than the quarterback (Even though he didn't possess skill the first when it came to passing a "got-dayum" football). 

     His attitude was his worst opponent -- no one could ever tell him his shit didn't stink when everybody from here to Australia knew that, in the looks department, he was average at best (But, average looks with a decent attitude and proper grooming made less than average more appealing to the naked eye).  

     Unlike his brother PeeWee, his swagger left a whole lot to be desired and, tack on that teeny-weeny-weenie and well... 

     Okay, you get the point. 

     I remember that night like it had just happened.  Collin was staring down the barrel of a gun all because Tootchie had dumped his shrimp-dick ass.  I felt sorry for Darrius and my step sister, Denise -- they were two bugs minus a fucking rug.  The lie they had concocted had innocent people entangled in a malicious web and, once it was exposed, they were both left with pie on their faces. 

     Two clowns neither funny, nor amusing, had an entire neighborhood in peril. When I twisted on the big red nose, and slid on the even bigger and red floppy shoes, I tripped them both up.  Then along comes the true ball buster, Tootchie delivered the "Coupe de gras" (That's French for fuck'em up). It was a blow that sent shock waves into the heart of everyone present that night.  

     She was in a Motel with Denise's ass so Denise couldn't have been where she said she was with Darrius, watching Collin steal PeeWee's dope. 

     Checkmate!

     Vindictiveness is like a cancer; it spreads inside of a person and can be lethal.  As the medics rolled him out on that stretcher, I looked at the wound on his side, self-inflicted by the .38 he had been waiving around.  The paramedics treated Joseph's head wound and, once they were sure he'd be okay, they joined the other's pushing Darrius's stretcher and left the apartment.  

     Once the three of us were alone, Joseph hugged D'Andre and thanked him for saving our lives.  He left D and me alone and went to lay down and rest.  I asked D to wait until I called my boss to let him know I would not be into work today -- it was now 7:00am.  

     I hung up from Clyde, my boss who, was pretty understanding.  I told him just enough and not much more.  The last thing I needed was some nosey ass white man all up in my business -- and I know Molly's ass was most likely ear-hustling (Clyde had a habit of not being discrete). Molly was like a bad refrigerator, she couldn't hold anything (That's probably why she felt the need to eat up every "got-dayum" thing in sight). 

     I made a quick mental note to get in touch with my girl, Anita, because I needed to find out what the verdict was with her and her employment.  I hadn't seen her since leaving the night club a couple of nights prior.  I wondered how her and big-booty were doing -- knowing her; she had most likely gotten a hold of that kitty because, by now, I would have heard from her.  

     I went and sat on the sofa next to D, who had been quietly sitting patiently, waiting for me to secure things at work.  His head was pointed straight ahead, and he never looked over at me.  I leaned over and rested my head on his broad shoulder, and thanked him for being the gallant knight, "You're always going to be there, aren't you?" I asked.  

     He took the back of his hand, and moved it down the side of my cheek.  "I knew that nigga was up to no good.  I was parked outside in one of the visitor’s parking spots when I saw his short punk ass drive up in that loud green Lexus".

     "You really took a big risk jumping that motherfucker like you did, D," I told him, placing my hand over the other hand he had resting in his lap.

     "...Put a message in a bottle baby..." He sang the words to mine and his favorite song. 

     "Send for me..." I finished the lyric.

     "I have to head back to school later on today," he said.

     Inside of me, I felt like this moment was putting closure on something that had been started, but was not meant to end.  I had a lover and D'Andre didn't appear to have it in him to commit to a man -- and I wasn't about to settle for anything less than what I deserved.  Our physical attraction to one another was not enough for me.  Sex is just that, sex. 

      I wanted something more than one-dimensional love -- I needed three-D without the fucking glasses.  I wanted the whole entire movie without intermission.  If there was popcorn to eat, I wanted to feel another hand inside the buttery bag reaching for some kernels.  Fuck the diet drink; I wanted all the sugar and wetness hitting the outer lines of my lips.  

      When his hand reached down my thigh, trying to grab something that didn't belong to him, I stopped him.  "No, that doesn't belong to you, D, it belongs to Joseph," I told him. 

     Tears 

     Sniffles 

     He tried going there again. 

     Again, I stopped him. 

     "No," I repeated myself. 

     Sobbing  

     "What is it that you want from me, Marco?" he asked, with inflections of hurt throughout his tone. 

     "D, if you have to ask that question, then you must know, the answer is nothing, because my man would already know," I told him.

     Hearing me say that must have sent shivers of pain through his body because his limbs tensed up so tight that I felt the waves inside of my body. 

     He cried, but still held onto whatever it was that was keeping him from admitting to himself that like me, he was homosexual. 

     "The day you stop hiding behind a woman, D, is the day that you'll truly be free," I told him. 

     I offered to take him to the airport later, and he said that it was not necessary. 

     What the fuck did this nigga want?

     I just knew this was not over. 

     There were two other things that had me baffled, one was Darrius's vague statement about playing it to the end (What the fuck did that mean?) and his comment about the baby Tootchie was carrying...

     I know that nigga didn't just insinuate that he was the father.  Now, damn, that would really be some shit there.