I don’t know why, but I laughed. He was so full of shit.
“Bye, Jabari,” I said, and this time, I left.
My appearance wouldn’t show that I’d just gotten fucked, but man did my walk tell it all! I could still feel him drilling inside of me if that even made any sense. My pussy was pulsating something crazy, and I was trying my hardest to walk normal, but it seemed impossible. I hoped that this damn fight was just about over because I needed a hot bath with some Epsom salt. I could still hear the loud fans when I walked back inside, which let me know that the fight was still going on.
Jashae was my ride back home, so I had no choice but to stay. Speaking of Jashae, I smirked to myself as I saw her talking to Miami and smiling from ear to ear. The two of them made such an attractive couple. Miami was fine beyond words, and my best friend was beautiful. I wasn’t opposed to love, but love just wasn’t for me. I never really witnessed love growing up. Hell, the closest thing to love that I ever witnessed with my own two eyes was Jashae and Trip’s relationship, and that was before he was incarcerated.
My mom raised me. Just like the majority of the black community, a father wasn’t in the household to help. I never even met my dad. From the time I was big enough to question his whereabouts until I was about ten or eleven, I was always told by my mom that he was in the army. I believed that shit too. I would take it back to school with me and boast how my daddy was in the army. As I grew older, I guess you can say that I grew wiser because that whole army thing just wasn’t believable to me anymore.
By the time I turned thirteen, and I got a period, I thought my little ass was grown, so I went to my mother, pretty much demanding the truth. She told me straight up, without batting a damn eye, that she didn’t have a single clue who my father was. I started questioning so much shit, like was my mother a hoe? How the hell couldn’t she remember who she slept with? Of course, I wasn’t brave enough to ask her some shit like that. I did, however, ask her if she had a clue, and she told me no. That was the end of that conversation.
So, at thirty years old, this was pretty much all I knew when it came to my father. My mom was a single mother, did the best she could in raising me on her own, and she raised me so tough. At ten years old, she was putting bullshit in my head about how all niggas were dogs, and telling me not to fall in love because I was going to get hurt in the end, you know crazy shit like that.
I always thought that my mom was talking crazy when she would say shit like that, but it took me getting my heart broken when I was sixteen by a guy that I loved, who I thought loved me, and someone that I trusted enough to give my virginity to. He was older at the time, nineteen to be exact. Malique was his name, and he was so damn fine. I thought I was doing something back then because I had an older dude, had his own car, and he used to sell dope, so he had money. I loved Malique, and while I loved him, my mama used to be in my ear every damn day talking about how he was going to leave me with a wet ass and break my heart.
Literally, a day after I lost my virginity to him, I walked over to his house because he stayed a couple of blocks away from me, and he had a bitch lying in bed with him. I learned an earful that day from the girl who was in bed with him. She told me how she was Malique’s girlfriend of almost two years and how they were expecting their first child together.
I’d never been so heartbroken in my life. When that happened, I started believing that my mama was right when she talked about all men being dogs and how they didn’t do shit but break your heart. One bad relationship had turned my heart cold. I was a beautiful woman who could walk on the scene and get with any man I wanted, but I didn’t want commitment. All I wanted was a good fuck. Men did the shit all the time, so I figured that women could do it too.
I was grown, two degrees under my belt, and I was making a killing financially in my career. So what if I liked to smoke a little weed when I wasn’t on the clock or if I loved to have sex? What Malique did to me at sixteen, I didn’t want to ever experience no shit like that again, so there was a gate up over my heart that no one would ever have access to. I don’t care how many times you can get me to cum or how well you can eat my pussy, I wasn’t falling in love with no nigga, and I wasn’t committing to shit. If a nigga couldn’t understand my mentality, then I wouldn’t even let him fuck me.
I liked Jabari because I could tell that he was on the same shit that I was on. Trust me, he wasn’t looking to wife me, and I wasn’t looking to be wifed. He’d probably have another bitch in his bed by tomorrow. I would have done the same thing, but with the hurting he’d just put on my pussy, I was going to be down for a few days.
I finally made it back to my seat. Jashae looked at me, turned her head, and she looked at me again. I mean, this girl was literally examining me. I had a cup in my hands, and I was chewing on the ice that was left inside as I focused my attention on the fight, pretending that I didn’t even see her looking at me. I could see that smirk on her face without even looking at her.
“You fucked him, didn’t you?” she whispered.
“The shit out of him,” I said, followed by a laugh.
She laughed too, high fiving me, and shaking her head.
“I want to know all the details when we get back in the car,” she said.
For the rest of the fight, I sat with my legs crossed, and I found myself looking behind me every five minutes to see if Jabari was going to come back. Was I sweating this nigga? Nah, I was too fly for that.
Jashae Johnson
My boss was such a fuckin’ asshole. Everyone knew how important today was for me. My baby was playing in the championship game, and literally five minutes before it was time for me to clock out, this lonely, miserable bitch decides to have a mandatory staff meeting. I loved what I did, it paid well, I was doing something that I actually liked, but if I ever decided that I wasn’t going to come back here and work anymore, it was going to be because I had enough of this woman’ shit.
Her name was Ms. Hendrix, and I felt like her old ass didn’t like me. She rode me harder than any other employee. Her deciding that she wanted to have a meeting this evening felt like a personal attack on me. Of course, I wanted to be defiant and just leave, but that would give her the satisfaction of firing me since I knew that’s what she wanted to do, but she wouldn’t dare because she knew that I exceeded what I was supposed to do for the company.
I sat in a room with almost twenty of my coworkers at a long, rectangular table, with my legs crossed, tapping my pen on the notebook that was in front of me because I was so anxious to leave. The game was set to start in ten minutes, and I wasn’t there. I worked smack dab in the middle of downtown Miami, so the traffic was going to be ridiculous getting to my son’s school.
“Ms. Johnson, is there some other place that you would rather be? Your leg is constantly bouncing. I don’t know if you noticed it, but you’ve been tapping on that notebook with that pen for the past ten minutes, and you’re staring off into space, proving to me that you’re not listening to anything that I’m saying. Does this meeting not interest you?” Mrs. Hendrix, my boss, said.
She had to be in her mid-sixties. She was a beautiful, black woman, but her attitude and her over the top dominance made her so ugly. I must have fucked her man in another lifetime because she just tolerated me because she knew that there wasn’t another employee there that could do half of what I did for this company.
“Ms. Hendrix, to be very honest with you, there is someplace else that I would rather be. My baby boy is playing in his senior championship game this evening, and this meeting that you called at the last minute is stopping me from being there. This is the last time that I will get to see my boy play high school basketball in my life, so if tapping my leg, hitting my pen, and me staring off into space annoys you, I’m sorry, but this is how I’m trying to calm down my nerves,” I said.
She looked at me long and hard before she laid down the paper that was in her hands.
“We’ll continue this meeting tomorrow.
Good luck to your son,” she said, and I all but ran out of the meeting room.
I went over to my huge office, used my key to get in, and grabbed my purse. After I turned my desktop off and the lights and everything else in my office, I was out. Walking out of the building, I could see that the elevator doors were about to close, so I ran toward it and got on with the other eight people who were already on. They wore sour looks on their faces since I got on when there was hardly any space already for them.
My phone was inside my purse buzzing away, but I was too afraid to answer it. I know it had to have been either my son, Miami, Mahogany, my grandmother, or my dad, wanting to know where I was since they were all going to be there tonight for the game. The moment the elevator got to the first floor, I hightailed it through the parking garage, trying to make it to my car.
I didn’t even wait to put my seatbelt on before I backed out of the parking spot and drove like a bat out of hell through the garage. Once I was on the way, I finally pulled my phone out, and I had all kinds of text messages, missed calls, and even voicemails. Vonte had left me a voicemail, so I listened to that one first.
“Ma, where you at? You were supposed to be here almost twenty minutes ago. You know I can’t play my best without you in the stands. You supposed to be my good luck charm. Look, I don’t know where you at, but I also know that you wouldn’t miss this game for nothing in the world, so drive safe getting here, alright? I know you haven’t been the happiest with me these past few weeks, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. Ima play my hardest tonight, Ma. I’m doing this one for you. Next week, at signing day, I’m going to finally make my decision, and after that, I’m busting my ass through college and on that court, so I can finally get you to quit your job and live like the queen you are. I’m only saying all of this, just in case I don’t get to say it to you before the game starts. I love you, Ma. Drive safe.”
I smiled big listening to that voicemail. I had to have run three lights before I finally made it on the turnpike, and it was by the grace of God that I didn’t get pulled over.
Almost thirty minutes later, I was finally parking my car in the crowded parking lot of the school. I quickly removed the work blouse that I was wearing and put on the shirt that my son had custom made for me. It had his jersey number on the back, and the front read, Mama of player #3. I looked in the mirror of my car, making sure that I looked up to par, and once everything checked out, I hopped out. I paid the little five dollars to get in and, I was on my way.
In all the games that I’ve ever been to at this school, I’d never seen this many people. I looked at the shot clock, and it showed that they were now in the third quarter and the score was 53 to 45. We were losing, but it wasn’t that bad. I scanned the crowd again, and my eyes landed on Mahogany, who was waving for me to come. They were all sitting together, even Miami was with them. I knew he would be in attendance tonight because he’d been to the last couple of games that led up to the Championship.
Nothing had really changed with Miami and me. We were still good friends, and since he’s moved back to Miami, I will admit that I’ve been seeing more of him these days, and I wasn’t complaining about that. Trip had threatened me, and I knew that I should have stayed away from Miami, but I liked his company. I loved the idea of having a male figure around, but that was simply it. We didn’t have inappropriate conversations, there was no flirting going on when he came around, none of that. Half of the time when I saw him, the majority of our conversations involved Vonte or we were talking about his daughter.
“Let me guess, that asshole of a boss?” my grandmother asked, and all I could do was nod my head while rolling my eyes.
I let her know that I would tell her about it later. The moment I took my seat, my eyes went on my son. They were on a time out, and he mouthed to me, “What happened?”
I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or what. I was my son’s biggest fan, also his biggest critic, so instead of answering his question, I just pointed to the shot clock, basically telling him to get those points up.
“I got you, Mama,” he mouthed.
I smiled while blowing him a kiss.
“He playing like he got a lot on his mind. Everything alright?” Miami asked.
Like always, he looked so handsome this evening. He was so in tune with the game that he wouldn’t even look at me when he spoke. This was the same way he was a couple of weeks ago when we went to the boxing match. I loved that serious, focused look that he had on his face whenever he was into something. The way he would flex his jaw muscles, even when he would place his hands together to clap, and the muscles in his arms would flex. Maybe I was being thirsty and just turned on by the simplest of things that he did, but I couldn’t help it; he was too fine.
“Yes. He’s fine” I said, keeping it short.
I didn’t want to go around telling people that my son had a baby on the way. Of course, my grandmother knew because she was there, my daddy knew, and Trip. I told Mahogany because I told her everything, and that was pretty much it. I scanned the stands, and my eyes landed on Taylor. She was sitting to the right of me, and I tried to see if there were any signs of a baby bump, but from the jersey that she wore with my son’s number, it was pretty hard to tell. My attention left Taylor, and I focused on the game.
“Let’s go, Vonte!” I yelled after my baby made a three-pointer.
“You may not know shit about boxing, but you damn sure know a little something about basketball,” Miami said.
I laughed while waving him off.
“A little something? I’ve been a basketball mom for years. I know more than a little something,” I boasted.
Literally, right after I said that I heard the whistle blow as if they were going on a time out again. Vonte was down on the floor. My head was down, so I didn’t even see him when he fell. The players were standing over him along with the coach. I stood up from my seat, ready to run down if I had to.
This wasn’t the first time that he’d gotten hurt doing a game, and it damn sure wasn’t the first time that I’ve jumped out of my seat like this. My motherly instincts kicked in. I swear I felt it in my body that it was more than him falling and getting hurt like in the past. I pushed my way through the stands and jogged down the stairs. As I got closer to my son, I could easily point out what was going on. This had happened before.
“Where’s his bag? Where’s his bag? Where the fuck is his bag? His inhaler is in there! It’s in his bag,” I screamed as I searched the chairs where other bags were on the seats, but I couldn’t find Vonte’s.
I knew which one belonged to him because he’d gotten someone to do some custom things on there, like putting a picture on it with him in his jersey, and his number was all over the bag. It would stick out like a sore thumb, but I couldn’t find it. No one could, and we needed that bag. He was having an asthma attack. Everyone was looking for his bag, but no one could find it.
I ran over to him, dropping to my knees and trying to pull him in an upright position. This isn’t the first time that I’d had to do this.
“I… iii… cannnttt breatheee mama… I canttt breathe,” he said, looking at me with eyes that were scared out of this world. I could see the water building.
“Giovonte! Stop! Stop! Don’t talk. Save your breath, baby. Save your breath. Vonte, where is the bag? Where is the inhaler? You have it in the bag, right? Baby nod your head that you do.”
I was crying now because he was wheezing seriously, and I could tell that he honestly couldn’t breathe. The look in my son’s eyes was scaring me shitless. It’s like I was losing him. By this time, all of my family was on the court with me, and in no time, the paramedics were pushing through the gym doors in an attempt to get to Vonte.
“I’m right here, Vonte. I’m here,” I talked to him as I was pushed out of the way so they could get to him.
Everything was happening so fast. He was just on the court playing, and now he was lying on the floor, struggling to breathe.
>
“It’s increasing. Shit!” I heard one of the EMTs say to another one of the EMTs.
I have never in my life been so scared. I followed them outside the gym with my son on the stretcher, and I jumped in the back of the ambulance. They were hooking him up to all different things, and I was waiting for someone to say that he was stable or to even look at me with a little hope in their eyes, but that moment wasn’t coming.
“He’s okay, right? He’s going to be fine, right?” I asked one of the EMTs.
“We’re doing everything in our power right now, ma’am,” she told me.
“He’s going into cardiac arrest,” one of them yelled.
I heard that, and I screamed. I tried to get back over to Vonte because I wanted him to see me, but I was in their way and stopping them from working on him, so they ushered me away. It took no time for us to make it to the hospital, and once they got off, I tried to get off and run into the emergency room with them, but they stopped me.
“Ma’am, no! You can’t. I get it, that’s your baby boy, but we cannot have you go back there with us. We are trying to save him. A doctor will come to the family room shortly to update you,” and like that, she took off.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Miami, Mahogany, my grandmother, and my daddy all running toward me. I was hysterical, and I crashed my head into my daddy’s chest while he held me.
“He went into cardiac arrest on the ambulance. I can’t lose my babyyy.” I broke down crying.
My body would have dropped to the floor if it weren’t for my dad holding me up.
“And you won’t, Shae! You won’t,” my daddy assured me.
I could hear the shakiness and the cracking in his voice, which proved to me that even he wasn’t so confident that Vonte was going to make it himself. Everyone had gathered around me while my grandmother prayed over my son, the doctors, and that they were able to save my baby boy. Once she’d finished praying, we all went into the hospital and waited in the waiting room.
Down With the King of the South Page 11