Page 53 of Lyric Squared

Without disabling my engine, I stepped out of the truck. On my hip, my pistol was perched, safety off, and ready for any amount of drama that anyone decided to bring to me. I stalkedacross the parking lot that was littered with chicken boxes, plastic wrapping, and cigarette butts in pursuit of the door.

Once I entered, the bell above my head sounded to let the employees know that they had a new customer. Every neck in the building turned in my direction. Waistlines were released from lethal clutches as greetings erupted from every end of the establishment. It wouldn’t be a secret, now, everyone would know that Ken was home.

“Look at this black ass nigga!” Hammer yelled across the store as he closed the door to the fridge.

“They done let this nigga back out on the street!” someone else confirmed.

“My nigga walked that shit down with a smile,” Hammer replied.

“What’s good?”

“My man,” Jerry, the store’s clerk, said.

“Jerry motherfucking Berry,” I responded, placing a fist up to the glass while stuffing my other hand into my pocket to retrieve some money.

I still couldn’t understand why his parents had named him Jerry with a last name like Berry. That shit would never sit well with me, and I let him know it every time I saw him.

“You need to get that shit changed.”

“I’m an old man now. Who cares?” He shrugged.

With a shake of the head, I slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and pointed out at the black Hawk that was still running in the parking lot.

“Got you.”

“Be easy, Ham.”

“You already know, nigga.”

I exited the building as the bell sounded again. When I made it to the truck and shoved the nozzle into the tank for the gas to begin flowing, I pulled the wrapper from the apple flavoredNow and Latersthat I’d swiped on my way out of the door. A kleptomaniac at heart, I couldn’t help myself. Jerry knew what was up and if he was a smart man, he’d put it on my tab. I knew he wouldn’t though.

With my fire clutched, I waited until the premium gas filled my tank. I wouldn’t worry about the three dollars that were left. I slid back into the cool truck and opened another piece of candy. Before I could unwrap it, the sound of water and a squeegee hitting the windshield startled me. I looked up to find a fragile, hooded junkie in front of my truck.

“Aye. Aye. Na. Get that shit off my truck,” I demanded after rolling down my window.

“Okay man. Okay man.” Even the raspiness of her voice couldn’t conceal her gender or identity.

Sighing, I ran a hand down my head, ending at my neck where I squeezed in a desperate attempt to contain my emotions. Before I was granted the strength to roll the window up, she appeared, placing her filthy hands on the interior.

“I can– I can get in with you and handle my business. You know. Whatever you want. I’m good with this mouth.” She grunted, fidgeting all the while. She couldn’t stay still for even a second.

“I need some money, man. I’ll do whatever, baby.”

Ignoring her advances to perform tasks on me that was unacceptable and inappropriate, I reached into the same pocket that I’d been reaching into all morning and pulled off four hundred. Her head was still bowed and her eyes were still fixed on the ground as I handed her the money.

“Oh. Oh, man. Oh man,” she stared at the money I’d just handed her, never lifting her head to see exactly who it had come from or show any signs of gratitude.

My heart, my full heart, crumbled into twelve million and fifty-eight tiny shards of brokenness that were irreparable.Encounters weren’t often but each time, they left me in worst shape than the last one. As my life progressed, hers continued to decline. No matter how much money I had acquired over the years, none of it was enough to buy back the woman I’d heard so much about as a child.

The one that stood before me resembled nothing of the one in the photos that lined my grandmother’s walls. Gone was the long, flowy hair. It was replaced with matted, grays that could use good shampooing. The healthy weight was replaced with bones. The beautiful smile was no more. There were only gums and missing teeth. The ones that remained were stained beyond repair and were ready to fall out any day.

“Don’t spend it all at once,” I suggested, pulling at the gear before burning the rubber of my tires while racing out of the parking lot.

As I tried collecting the fragmented pieces of my heart when I hit the expressway, the blurriness of my eyes subsided. It didn’t matter how much older I got or how many times I encountered her, seeing my mom in the predicament that she was in tugged at my heartstrings. It left me speechless and altered my mood instantaneously.

One would quickly or easily say that it was as simple as picking her up and taking her to a rehabilitation center, but shit wasn’t that simple with addicts. Until they were ready for help, there was nothing you could do to help them but toss them a few dollars every once in a while so that they didn’t have to risk their lives to get it themselves.

My mother wasn’t ready. Not yet. She wasn’t tired enough. My grandmother had placed her in several centers. My aunt had placed her in two. I’d even tried pleading with her years ago to allow me to help her. Not only did she not recognize me, but she declined every effort I made to get her the help I knew she needed.