John rushed into the Emergency Room entrance and quickly got the attention of the staff. “My nigga out here dyin’!” he said. “He need help. He need help.”
A proper-speaking black man, dressed in a coat, rushed over to John and followed him out of the door. It wasn’t long before three people and a stretcher followed in their path. The doctor rushed up to the backdoor and looked down at Camron. The look in his face was enough to let John know that this was more serious than he’d thought.
“My goodness,” the doctor said. “What happened to this guy? Come on, we’ve got to get him inside. He’s probably lost a lot of blood and, from the looks of it, might have some nerve damage or something.” There was something off about Camron’s face now that John looked closer. He’d been moving so frantically earlier that he really hadn’t noticed much detail.
John stood back as the hospital staff lifted and pulled Camron out of the car. At this point, it looked as if Camron had fallen back to sleep. No matter what anybody said to him, he didn’t respond. “Man, make sure he don’t die,” John said to the doctor. “Please, man. Damn this is some fucked up shit.”
“Calm down young man,” the doctor said, placing his hand on John’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” John said.
John followed the staff inside and back into the mazes of the Emergency Room operating room. The doctor babbled medical nonsense to the nurses and staff helping to get Camron hooked up to various machines. No matter what the stuff meant, John just wanted them to save Camron. Furthermore, he wanted to go out into the streets of Cincinnati and hunt Race down for doing this. This, on top of having him walk home naked in the middle of the night, was enough to let John know that the entire game had changed. And he was going to make sure that Race knew about this change as well.
“Sir, please wait out in the lobby and we will come let you know your friend’s state,” a hospital worker told John. “Sorry, but the doctors really do need their space.”
John backed away, staring at Camron being hooked up to various machines. The doctor and his nurses stood around, following instructions. Reluctantly, John turned around and went back out to the lobby. There, he called Judge, knowing that he needed to be one of the people who would know right away what happened with Camron. John wondered if Judge would be up yet, especially considering that he worked late at night.
“Hello?” Judge answered. He clearly sounded as if he’d been sleeping.
“Judge, man, you not gon’ believe this,” John said, shaking his head. He stood at the front of the hospital at this point, looking at his car and thinking about what to do. “I’m up at the hospital with Camron.”
“Up at the hospital with Camron?” Judge asked, surprised. “What the hell happened? Did the nigga get into it with some otha nigga up at the club or somethin’?” He chuckled. “Nigga, you know how that nigga is when he get some drinks in him and there’s a buncha women around.”
“Naw, naw, man,” John said. “This shit is serious. I found him like thirty minutes ago, on the kitchen floor. Race and his boys rushed in last night he said and…”
Judge listened intently as John filled him in on how he’d found Camron, wondering what had happened to him last night. Judge let John know that he was going to hop right up and get some clothes on so he could come down to the hospital. When John hung up, he parked his car in a proper parking spot then rushed back into the hospital. Just as he walked into the lobby, one of the nurses that had helped Camron into the operating room came rushing down the hallway. At first, John had been concerned, thinking that she was coming with bad news. However, all of this changed when she smiled.
The nurse came walking up to John and explained that his friend would be just fine, but not without complications. As they’d suspected when getting him out of the backseat, there was nerve damage in his head. While there certainly was a bright side to all of this—Camron would be okay with treatment and therapy—there were other risks that might pop up later down the road. Just as an example, the nurse filled John in on the fact that his friend may need various forms of physical therapy, but they wouldn’t know until a bunch of tests came back. The nurse then asked John if he had contact information for Camron’s family.
“Dammit,” John said. He looked into his cell phone. “Naw, not really. I mean, I know some of his family, but I don’t really have they number that I can think of.” He paused, remembering something. “Hold up. I might have the number to one of his cousins, but I’m not sure.”
“Okay, well, we can give more information to the family,” the nurse said. “And I’m sure they’d like to know that their relative is going to be okay. The doctor will speak with them when they get here.”
On that note, the nurse rushed away and headed back toward the hallway. John stood there, putting his hands up on his forehead and sighed. He wondered what he was going to do about this entire situation. He sat down in a chair, sending a text to the number he had for Camron’s cousin. Even then, though, he wasn’t sure the number was still valid. Sooner or later, he couldn’t keep himself from calling. When he did, he found the number wasn’t even operational anymore.
“Wassup, man,” Judge said, rushing into the hospital. “We here.”
Kreesha stood next to Judge, holding his hand. The two had been talking off and on for some years, but never had really solidified anything. However, because she’d been on the scene for quite some time, they all knew who she was and were cool with having her around. “Is Camron gonna be okay?” she asked.
John quickly filled Judge in on everything again, this time allowing Kreesha to hear all of the details. When they’d finished, Judge looked into John’s eyes and gave him a look that let John know Judge wanted to talk about something serious without Kreesha being around. Causally, Judge suggested Kreesha sit in the hospital and wait to see if anything else happens while he and his boy went outside to talk for a minute.
Judge and John stood across from one another in front of John’s car as they talked. “Nigga, this is some fucked up shit,” Judge said. “I mean, for real. And I ain’t even seen him yet.” He put his hands up to the sides of his face so he could see into the backseat. The sight of Camron’s blood smeared across the backseat almost made him sick to his stomach. “Is it really that bad?”
“Man, if me and you woulda walked down the street and seen him out on the sidewalk knocked out,” John said, “I swear to God and on everything I love that you would not know who the fuck you was lookin’ at. Race really went in there and fucked him up.”
“But, damn,” Judge said, slamming his fist into his thigh. “How the fuck would Race even find out where Camron lived? I mean, it ain’t like Camron be tellin’ a whole buncha niggas where he live and shit. I mean, I ain’t never seen him do that.”
“Naw, I don’t think he do,” John said. “And that’s the same shit I was try’na figure out. I don’t know how the fuck he woulda found out, but I know we gon’ have to run up on that nigga Race and get with that nigga over some shit like this. Man, wait till you see Camron’s face. I mean, for real, for real. That nigga Race fucked him up. His forehead all swollen and busted and shit. His eyes…you can’t even see them from how puffy that shit is. Both lips busted. Ripped shirt. Look like the nigga fell into the coffee table or some shit. And what was really fucked up was when I got to his house, cause the nigga called me back this mornin’ like I told you, that nigga Race left the fuckin’ door open. I think some niggas prolly ran up in there and robbed him while he was knocked out on the kitchen floor. What the fuck you find out about that nigga’s party, Judge? I remember you sayin’ that you was goin’ to ask some chick at work that you heard talkin’ about Race’s birthday party this weekend or some shit.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Judge said. “I had to wait until she was gon’ be at work at the same time as me. I mean, we don’t always work the same shift or nothin’ like that. But, for real, for real, she supposed to be in there tonight when I get there an
d I think we gon’ be workin’ the same department for like a few hours before she get off. Don’t worry, nigga. I already been talkin’ to this one nigga at work who kinda sweet on the chick to find out what she like and if she the kinda chick you can talk to without her gettin’ all shitty and stuff.”
“Bet,” John said. “Make sure you talk to her real nice, nigga. And be careful so your chick in there don’t find out. Cause I wanna know where this nigga Race is gon’ be for his birthday. In fact, I’mma make sure that this is a birthday to remember.”
“Uh oh,” Judge said. “What the fuck you thinkin’ about doin’, nigga?” He glanced toward the hospital to make sure that Kreesha wasn’t coming out to join in the conversation. “Nigga, I’m down for whatever the fuck you wanna know. I want us to make sure this nigga Race suffer after this shit he did.”
“I know, I know,” John said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know just yet. But I just know that whatever the fuck he got goin’ on for his birthday, we about to fuckin’ invite ourselves. So, nigga, just make sure that when you go into work, you find out where the fuck that nigga party is and what time. Even if you gotta flirt with some ugly ass bitch that you don’t even like, then fuckin’ do it. I know I’m about to be findin’ some of Camron’s cousins.”
“Oh shit,” Judge said, shaking his head. “You know how some of them niggas are. You know how they gon’ show up and really fuck some shit up.”
“I know,” John said. “That’s just what the fuck I was thinkin’. He got them four cousins that are fuckin’ savages. And I know they would help us do whatever the fuck we gotta do if they know that Camron got beat to a inch of his life by this nigga for no fuckin’ reason.”
“Have you called his mama or whatever yet?” Judge asked.
“Naw,” John answered. “I don’t have the number or nothin’ like that. I tried to hit his cousin up, but I ain’t got his number no more. I’mma just ride by his family place and see who car I see out front and tell them. Shit, that’s what I was about to do right now but I don’t wanna leave Camron up here.”
“Man, you did what you could do already,” Judge said. “I mean, think about it. You got him up to the hospital and shit and now they in there operating on him and shit. Ain’t nothin’ else you can do right now.”
“What you and Kreesha about to do?” John asked. “I think I’mma go back by Camron’s place and make sure everything is locked up. This nigga that Camron cool with at the end of his block came down the street and helped me get him into the back of my car. He supposed to be watchin’ Camron’s place, but I don’t know if he actually gon’ sit there or somethin’.”
“Nigga, you about to go over there right now?” Judge asked. “You sure you need to be doin’ that on your own? I mean, what if that nigga Race got some niggas sittin’ out front and waitin’. Ain’t like they got shit else to do.”
“Yeah, well,” John said. “That’s why when Camron finally called me back this mornin’, I grabbed my heat when I left just in case that nigga Race try some funny shit. But hell yeah, I’m ‘bout to go over there right now and make sure that Camron’s house is locked down and shit. And I wish that nigga Race comes back through. I’mma be right in that house waitin’ on him and shit. You just make sure that when you go into work tonight, you fuckin’ found out what that chick know about the party. The sooner you know, the sooner I can talk to the cousins and see what the fuck he got to say. ‘Cause I already know they gon’ come through for their cousin Camron and really be able to help us. We gon’ make sure that fuckin’ club looks like a warzone in Iraq or some shit like that. That nigga ain’t gon’ never forget this shit. Swear-ta-God.”
***
When John pulled up outside of Camron’s mother’s house, he pulled into a gravel parking spot out front. Because Camron’s mother lived in a more far out-—but still urban—part of the city, her yard was much larger and the streets didn’t have sidewalks. Before hopping out of his car, he looked at the various cars—six altogether—parked in the front yard. The only way to describe Camron’s family would be as the people who partied every day of the week. Whenever he was bored, Camron could just stop by his mother’s house. Rest assured, there would be a gang of people, hanging out and cooking and playing cards.
“Shit,” John said, pulling his legs out of the car. As much as he didn’t want to, he was going to have to walk up to this house at this time of morning and wake everyone up with bad news.
John knocked on the door and waited. When he heard Camron’s mother yell that she was coming, he was relieved that at least it would be her—at least it would be a face that he knew and he’d be a face she knew. That would relieve a lot of possible attention, especially considering that there was a host of other people in Camron’s family who could have answered the door and would not have known who he was.
“Hey, John!” Brenda said, opening the door.
John sighed and stepped into the house. Brenda picked up on the young man’s mood then sat down on her couch and listened. John forced the words out of his mouth, filling Brenda in on everything. Like any mother, Brenda was concerned but also furious. However, what she and John had in common was that they both thought about Camron’s cousin.
“We gon’ take care of this,” Brenda said, standing up and taking out her phone. Brenda wasn’t necessarily a young mother, but she certainly held onto her looks. At times, people would laugh at the fact that she’d be the only black woman from the hood who would go to the park and jog with the white people. “Don’t you worry, we gon’ take care of this. I know them niggas ain’t up yet, but I’mma call ‘em and wake ‘em up. Don’t you worry, baby. John, they gon’ get up for this. They gon’ get up this for this. I can fuckin’ promise you that.”
John watched as Brenda held the phone up to the side of her face speaking with Camron’s cousins. When Brenda hung up, she looked over at John with wide eyes and said, “Make sure you think of whatever you got to say, baby. Whatever we need to know to make sure we handle this situation. Ain’t no nigga gon’ do nothin’ to my son like that. Camron’s cousins are on the way. I’mma go ahead and get dressed so I can go up to the hospital and see my boy.” She rushed away. “Whoever that nigga Race is, he done messed with the wrong one. The wrong one, honey!”
John turned toward the living room window, hoping that Judge could get all of the details tonight. For the next thirty minutes, he sat on Brenda’s living room couch and waited for Camron’s cousins to pull up. Ideas rushed through his mind about different ways of getting back to Race. Simply waiting to run into him wasn’t going to work, especially if he was being more proactive. At this point, there was no telling whether or not Race would come running up into either John’s or Judge’s apartment any day. John had never thought of Race as being so bold, but clearly that wasn’t the case.
Within thirty minutes or so, John saw a black impala pull up in front of Brenda’s house. The bumping music cut off as the four car doors opened. Smoke billowed out. Camron’s four cousins, all dressed in dark clothing with sagging pants, waddled up the walkway. Each one looked like a pure savage. Their knuckles were rough, they walked as if they were confident in any situation, and their eyes were low and red. With anger splashed across their faces, they walked up into their Aunt Brenda’s house. John said “Wassup” when they came walking through the door. Only seconds had passed before a fully-dressed Brenda came to the living room doorway.
“I got somethin’ I want y’all to do for me,” Brenda said. She pointed at John. “Go on, Baby. Tell Camron’s cousins right here what you told me.” The woman walked up to her nephews with a serious face, pointing her finger. “You make sure you fuck this nigga up real good for your auntie. Okay? I don’t want nobody to die or nothin’ like that, but fuck this nigga up real bad for what he did to my son…to your cousin Camron. I’m about to run up to the hospital, but don’t y’all let me down.”
John watched as Brenda grabbed her car keys and rushed out of the door. He then
turned to Camron’s four cousins and opened his mouth to fill them in on everything.
***
When Judge got to work that night, he didn’t feel normal. After John left the hospital, he and Kreesha had managed to get to the back of the Emergency Room to see Camron for a moment. Seeing him through the glass was absolutely horrifying. Just as John had told them, there was no way to know the person they looked at was Camron without being told first. The mental image of Camron, beaten and bruised, stayed with him for the rest of the day and evening. When he got to Target that night to do the shipping, he’d even paused to think when he was clocking in.
Judge went to work, but made sure to keep his eye open for the chick he’d heard talking about Race’s birthday party. She talked so much and he hoped that she’d easily open up for him if he just showed her a little attention. Just as he’d been thinking about it, carrying some boxes to the other side of the store, the chick—Riri—came walking up with instructions from the manager. The girl, who was a little plump but with a killer shape, had obviously been a big girl at some point. Judging by her appearance, she’d lost quite a bit of weight.
“Judge, I just wanted to tell you that Micah said we’re going to move five boxes of the home goods then do the shipment so we can have more space,” Riri said.
“Okay,” Judge said, nodding his head. “Thanks for letting me know.” He glanced down at the boxes he’d been rolling to the other side of the store, thinking he could use them to keep Riri’s attention. “Well, you think you can help me with this shit real quick over there then I can get back there real quick to help everybody.”
Riri checked the time then glanced back at the swinging doors of the stockroom. She shrugged. “Shit, why not?” she responded. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
Judge smiled and walked alongside Riri to the other side of the store. As the two of them emptied the boxes and stocked the shelves with products, Judge made sure to talk to her as if he were really interested in her.
The Bed You Make: An Urban Hood Drama Page 12