RIPPED & READY (PART 76)

RIPPED & READY (PART LXXVI) 

          Collin’s recovery was truly a miracle.  His kidneys started functioning at 100% which was a blessing from the highest of high.  He told us that he had no idea who had jumped him or why, because he had really toned down his extracurricular-thug-activities prior to being jumped.  He said he had heard unfamiliar voices throughout the assault so he didn’t have a clue as to whom or why it had occurred, which had me believing that D’Andre Washington’s involvement was more than just minimal. 

          Without any doubt in my mind, D had pushed some buttons without truly understanding the consequences of his actions – he had made a deal with the devil himself and now we were all bottle-necked and up to our ears, neck-deep in a towering pile of steaming horse manure.  

          “Baby, I don’t know what the hell D’s ass has started but without a doubt we are going to have to spout a large set of balls to get ourselves out of it.  This ain’t the movies any more, Marco, this is the real deal here and I know how much you hate guns, but like Madea says, the only way to peace is by packing a piece of steel,” he said with the banter of a street player, but who could chuckle at any joke right now. 

          “Collin, I don’t want you to get hurt, nigga, perhaps we should reach out to the long arm of the law,” I suggested, now retracting from what I was against doing earlier as I was dumping the bags filled with the soiled rape bedding.

          “…You are the lover’s rock that I cling to, Marco,” he said, singing the Sade song that we both shared a love for. 

          “Don’t do that, Collin, I cannot even think about joy right now when I’m in so much pain,” I slipped up and let that one out. 

          Damn it!

          “Pain, what pain are you in bro?” he asked, knowing I was withholding information. 

          If anyone could get me to talk it was Collin – he knew how to work me like the strongest truth serum.

          “Marco, what are friends for, boy?  Stop holding out on me, I need to know what we’re up against, Big Daddy,” he asked, in that unyielding persistence.

          Silence

          “Marco,” he called.

          I again, didn’t respond.  I felt too weak, too dirty, too disgusted at my inability to do anything during the sexual assault. 

          Play that muthfucka to the end Brotha Marco.

          I clenched the cheeks of my assets together, remembering how he disregarded me and forced himself inside of me – He wasn’t Lance he was Circumstance… one I had been put in without warning and without a life jacket to float above water on to keep from drowning. 

          I was sinking down to the murky depths of shame and sadness…

          I was made to belong to somebody who had no soul…

          I remember every single wretched thrust….

          With each and every one my pride was crumbling…

          “MARCO!” he shouted through the phone, “Stop zoning out on me, baby, what the hell happened?” he asked, refusing to stop his inquiry until I answered. 

          Again, silence.

          Next, tears…

          “Fuck that bitch ass crying shit, nigga, tell me what the fuck happened to you!” he asked, agitated. 

          I already knew what his next move would be if I didn’t answer.  Collin was a man of few words in situations like this, but I just couldn’t force myself to tell him what had occurred because I was too embarrassed that somebody had taken what I held so sacred. 

          “Alright, alright then, I know exactly what I’m gonna do, nigga,” he said, pissed.

          “Collin, wait…” I begged.

          “Hell naw, nigga, you want to be bitch-i-fied like that,” he told me.

          “What are you gonna do, man?” I asked, nervously.

          “What the hell do you think I’m going to do, nigga?” he asked.

          Oh, shit, he was going to drive down to San Jose.

          “Alright, man I’ll tell you…”

          Click

          Too late.