RIPPED & READY (PART 48)

RIPPED & READY (PART XLVIII)

  Hank's seductive, periodic, glances in between sips of Brandy were seductive but creepy.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but, this big old house, the two Rottweiler’s, and that foul mouth parrot (who kept screaming Bee-atch every 15 minutes), just seemed a little off to me.  I mean, he was turning me on because, let’s face it, he was easy on the eyes; however, there was a strange scent hitting my nostrils (and it smelled like hospital chemicals).

I really started noticing it shortly after he arrived back into the room.  I'm not sure if it was coming from a special cleaning product but it, along with the animal smell had me a feeling a little uneasy (Did this motherfucker have a formaldehyde tank locked up somewhere?). 

I didn't know, but I really wanted to know so, like anybody with good sense, I asked.  "Hank, something is really waking up my allergies in here," I said, lying my ass off.

"Oh, really, I'm sorry," he said, "I want you to get as comfortable as possible," he said, "Maybe we should move into the den area," he suggested  

Follow him to the den area? 

Was he trying to get me further away from the front door?

Where is this den area at?

This nigga was beginning to take on the characteristics of a serial killer -- the too friendly smile; the nervous patting of his large hands on the knees; that intense gleam in his eyes; hell, his whole demeanor looked a little too cryptic for me so, instead of following him like a lamb following a butcher to slaughter, I asked the question I should have asked before I even stepped foot outside of the club.

"Uh, I hope I'm not being too nosey, brotha, but, I cannot help but notice how much of a roller you seemed to be -- I mean, the Jag', this big ass house, the exotic animals" -- (Namely, that damned cracker eating comic), because the Rotts weren’t that exotic, but they did, however, remind me a little too much of that damned movie, "The Omen".

Yup, devil dogs!

Hank had this Damien Thorne theme going on in this bitch!

It was time to act like I cared about breathing.

"Oh, no, I don't mind you asking.  I'm a mortician -- one of Oakland's most popular.  I own four funeral homes and, let's just say, business is doing quite well -- you know, with all these young knuckle heads killing off one another, it’s booming" he said, lifting his snifter in a self-toasting gesture.

Bingo! 

That was the fragrance -- death!

That's when I really started getting uncomfortable and, then he started scooting over toward me on the sofa. The desires to leave kept hitting me like a barrage of hailstones; I had to get the fuck out of there.  I mean morticians were necessary artists in life (I mean, people wanted to look their best lying in a coffin, but you know something, that occupation wasn't something I wanted to become familiar with on a daily basis). 

It was time, like Young MC said, to "Bust a Move".

I instantly begin to try and figure out an excuse to bounce up out of Phantasm Manor.  My excuse began to buzz at my side -- thank God, it was my cell phone.

"Excuse me," I said, relieved by the welcomed intrusion.

"Hello," I said.

"Nigga, where in the fuck are you? Our friend is laying up here in the hospital and no one has seen or heard from you since you left, yesterday," D'Andre said in a fowl tone.

"I know, baby, I'm sorry, I'm heading there now," I told him.

"How is Collin, baby?" I asked.

"Please stop calling me, baby, Marco," he requested (and it hurt the hell out of me too). 

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Yea, you are," he responded.

No he didn't...

No his trick ass didn't just insult me...

I'd deal with his ass later, but right now, I needed to vacate these premises.  Hank looked at me with concern in his eyes and asked, "Did you need me to take you some place?"

Hell yea, I said to myself, but instead of saying it like that I said, politely, "Yes, I need a ride to San Mateo, one of my good friends is in a coma," I told him.

"Correction, nigga, Collin woke up a couple of hours ago," He said.

"Oh, that's wonderful, D..."

Click.

I was beside myself; D'Andre had just hung up in my face.

I looked over at Hank in disbelief, but refrained from filling him in on that piece of information.  

"You okay, buddy?" he asked.

I lied. 

"Yes, but how quick can you get me there?" I asked, happy that Collin was now awake, pissed that D'Andre was acting like a straight bitch, and relieved that I was leaving the Mortician’s Lair.  

It was time to get back to reality and once I was sure that Collin was going to be okay, I was headed back to my apartment to deal with Josephs shady ass.  I hadn't decided if I was going to just accept this child and work him into the relationship, or leave his ass for keeping secrets.  

Had I known this would not be his only secret, I probably would have made up my mind then, but I am not a mind reader. 

Joseph was about to take me on the ride of my life.  

Damn, why in the fuck can't I go back to that M6 night?