The soup kitchen was one of the last spots I was going to have time to go to tonight. I had already called Mrs. Butler and let her know something came up so I was running late, but now I was over two hours past the time I was supposed to be there. I knew she didn’t mind keeping him longer than she was scheduled to, but I didn’t want to come off as a neglectful mother. I walked into the soup kitchen as one of the workers cleaned up the tables. They had just fed a group of homeless people not too long before I showed up. “Hey,” I said, trying to get her attention. She turned around; her hair wrapped up in a navy blue bandana as crow’s feet stretched to the corner of her eyes. She looked as if she was thirty going on fifty. “Do you know somebody by the name of Stew?” She put her towel down, focusing her eyes on me,
“Stew? Um, does he have the last name?”
“Stewart Sutton.”
“Hmmm,” she said rubbing her chin, “No, I don’t recall. Can you describe him to me?”
“He’s tall. A few inches taller than me, real slim. He’s missing a lot of teeth on his top and bottom rows. He has a—”
“Scar right below his chin, right? And he has some of the prettiest gray eyes that I’ve ever seen on an addict. Yup, I know him. I sho’ do.”
“Has he been here?”
“You just missed him not too long ago. He came in here to get a bite to eat and then he left again. I never thought I would see him strung out again,” she said, placing used dishes inside her blue bin, “but he is, and he looks worse off than he did before.”
“Do you know which way he went?”
“No, now I don’t know that. He did say he was tired, though, and he wanted to catch some sleep. Not too many places around here for that, though, so there ain’t no tellin’, really.”
I sighed, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“No problem, sugar. Now, I hope you find him and get him some help. He made too much progress to fall back down into the pit again. It’s a shame, it is.”
I left the soup kitchen and drove up and down city blocks, scanning every homeless person for their features to see if it was Uncle Stew. I had driven for about thirty minutes before I got a text from Vinny,
Yo, he’s here. I see him out back by the garage. It looks like he is sleep but he isn't trying to get in or nothing. He’s just lying there on the ground.
I responded, I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.
I sped back to Big Mama’s house and parked a few spots down so he wouldn’t hear me pull up in the driveway and have a chance to run. I crept up in between Big Mama’s house and her neighbors and that’s when I saw him, laid out on the ground on top of some cardboard with a dirty ass blanket thrown across him. I gradually walked up to him, being careful not to make a sudden noise to wake him up. When I was close, I kicked him in his side. He yelled out in agony as I kicked him again and again until he begged me to stop,
“Lyric! Please! Stop! Stop!”
“Fuck you, Stew! You ain’t supposed to be like this no more!”
I kicked him again as he backed up against the garage, doing his best to absorb the blows I was giving him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said as tears fell from his eyes. His lips were white and cracked like cement in the winter, bags under his eyes were noticeable, even in the dark alley.
“I’m sorry, Lyric! I’m sorry!”
“The fuck you mean, you sorry!? You sorry for what?! For turning into a fuckin’ hype again, huh!? For takin’ my mama frame and selling it for dope!? Is that what you sorry for?!”
“Yes! Yes!” he yelled out with his hands up, preparing to protect himself from more of my attacks, “I’m sorry for all of it, Lyric! I’m sorry!”
I balled my fist up, ready to strike him in the head as he leaned further away from me, silently begging me not to continue. His arms were exposed, I saw dark blue and purple marks where he stuck needles in his veins—the bruises from using his body in a way it was never meant to be used. His fingernails were dirty, looking as if he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. I stepped back and buried my head in my hands. It usually took a lot to break me, and I hadn’t cried since Big Mama died of cancer but this time, I felt death again. It seemed like the Uncle Stew I had grown to know and love had died, and now, the crackhead in front of me was who replaced him. I calmed down, leaning against the garage wall and sliding down to where he was sitting. The tears that fell out my eyes mirrored his,
“How, Stew? How the fuck did you get back like this?”
He wiped his eyes, “I… I don’t know, Lyric. I was just… I was laying in Mama’s room the day after you left and I dropped some of my peppermints onto the floor. When I reached down there to get them, I pulled up a couple of baggies of crack. I didn’t put them there, Lyric! I promise I didn’t, but they were just there… and the temptation was too much for me to resist. I mean, the reason I got clean before was that I wasn’t around it, you know? And if I ever was, I wasn’t alone but this time I was alone. I was all by my fucking self, and I took that crack out of Mama’s room, went downstairs, and I got high. I got high and from that day, I didn’t look back.”
As he spoke, I thought about the last time I was at Big Mama’ house, laying in her bed. I remembered taking the gun and baggies out of my waistband and sitting them on the floor, but I only remembered taking the gun back with me. Did I forget about the crack? I thought to myself as Uncle Stew went on, crying and explaining himself even further. A sickening feeling went to the pit of my stomach once I realized that the crack I left there accidentally was the crack that got him addicted again. I turned towards him; his face was devoid of the life he had for the past year. His eyes were as if the light he held was snuffed out. I beheld him, and all I could think about was that it was my fault. I reached over to embrace him, and he was hesitant to hug me back for the first few moments, then he eventually gave in and put his arms around me. “I’m sorry, Lyric. I did my best, hear. Tell mama I did my best.” I wiped tears from my eyes and held him even tighter. For some reason, I felt this was the end for him, and I only felt that way because I could sense that he had given up.
“Uncle Stew,” I said, “You gotta fight this, ok? You can’t quit. That is not who you are anymore. You’re not this… this hype that you think you are.”
“No, Lyric. Baby, this is me. This is Stewart, the old dingy crack nigger that ain’t gonna never amount to anything in life. You know, Mama was right when she said that back then. I am not gonna never amount to nothing, and I’m as good as dead. I am.”
“Unc, come on man, just stay with me. I'm going to go and get you something to eat, ok? Until then, just come in the house. Just chill.”
“No, no, no. I already went in there once actin’ a fool and little brother hit me square in the mouth. I deserved it, though, I did. I was going out of control because I needed a fix. That’s when I went in Mama’s room and,” he paused, fighting back tears, “and broke the gold frame that had yo mama’s picture in it. I just broke the frame and left the glass on the dresser, and I know it broke Mama’s heart! I just know it did!” he said as he burst out into cries that were inconsolable, “I ain’t shit, Lyric! I ain’t shit!”
“Unc, come on,” I said, reaching for his hand as I stood up.
“No, Lyric. No, and I mean, no! I don’t deserve to be in that house. I don’t deserve to be around y’all. I fucked up, and I’m done, you hear me? I’m done!”
“Unc, ok. Just wait right here, ok? I'm going to go and talk to Vinny. Just wait and I’m gonna have some food for you when I come back, ok?”
I turned around to rush to the house as he called out to me, “Lyric, just know that the time we spent together as a family was something I always wanted. I always wanted to know my niece and patch things up with my mama before anything happened to us. The Good Lord saw fit for me to do that and now, I’m back where I belong. I love you, ok?”
“Uncle Stew, I love you too, but I’ll be right back, ok? Just hold tight.”
I ran inside the house a
nd fixed him a sandwich as quickly as I could and ran back outside to the back. “Uncle Stew, here you… Uncle Stew?” I looked around the garage for him, but he was gone. His blanket and the cardboard he laid on wasn’t there either so I knew he had left. I threw the sandwich into the garage door as the insides exploded back onto the ground. The cries I made could have been heard a few houses down as the pain of regret and sorrow became too much to bear. Vinny came outside moments later. “Lyric? You okay?” he asked, bending down to me as I went to my knees in tears. “It’s all my fault,” I yelled as he tried to console me. “It’s all my fuckin’ fault that he’s like that! It’s my fault!” I screamed it at the top of my lungs as Vinny squeezed me as tight as he could, still trying to understand why it was my fault. “It’s ok, Lyric. It’s gonna be alright,” he said as he sat on the cement, rocking me back and forth.
Eventually, he got me to come inside the house, and that’s when I told him everything that happened. He didn’t say anything to condemn me, he just shook his head and kept saying, “Damn, we gotta help him. We gotta help him.” I admired the way he felt that helping was something we both had to do. He never made me feel like it was all my fault that Uncle Stew was strung out again even though it was all my fault. There was nothing we could do for him, though. Uncle Stew was going to do what was best for him, and I knew he wasn’t going to come back around to the house. He was too ashamed to show his face here again, but all I could do was pray that he would be alright. That night, I slept in Big Mama’s bed for a little while before I left. I didn’t have any dreams of her or my mom that time either, and I thought it was weird that I didn’t since I had them every other time, but if I had to guess, I knew why. I knew it was because I had gotten their son and brother strung out because of stupid ass decisions I made with my life. I started to think about what Mrs. Butler said about Prince and keeping him safe. I didn’t try to hurt Uncle Stew and in the same sense, I could do things that hurt Prince when it wasn’t even my intention to do so. Maybe I did need to let them adopt him because if I kept being careless as I was now, I knew something bad could happen to him.
I didn’t get to Mrs. Butler’s house until about 10 pm. She was getting Prince ready for bed and by the time I showed up, she was dressed in a housecoat with a scarf tied around her head.
“Girl, why are you comin’ out here this time of night?” she asked, flipping on the porch light so I could see my way into the house.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I just got tied up in an emergency.”
I walked past her as she caught a glimpse of my bloodshot eyes, “Lyric, you been crying? What’s wrong, baby?” I wiped my eyes, “Nothing. I mean, it’s just Big Mama’s side of the family, you know? Some stuff happened with my Uncle.” She looked concerned, but I didn’t have the strength to talk about it anymore. Allen walked into the room moments later with Prince, showing off the matching pajamas he bought for the two of them. I could see the sadness on his face when he realized I was here to take him home, “Aw man,” he said, “I thought we were going to get to keep him for the night.” I smiled the best I could, “I’m sorry, Dad. I would have left him, but I need to just hold him for the night. When I have him, I feel like all my problems mean nothing anymore because he is with me.” He smiled, “Trust me, I know the feeling. I definitely know the feeling. Well, let me help you take him out. I know this boy is a monster to deal with when he’s being carried in that car seat.” Allen went back to the room to get the rest of his things.
When he left, I whispered to Mrs. Butler, “Listen, I think I might take you up on that offer.”
“What offer?”
I took a deep breath, “Adopting Prince. I think it might be the best thing for him right now, I mean, at least for the time being.”
Her eyes widened as if I said something she never expected to hear, “Are you sure, Lyric?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I just… I think he would be safer here. It’s just temporary, though, you know? I mean, I’m not actually living a life suitable to keep him safe right now.”
“Ok, honey. Um, did you talk to Nas?”
“No.”
She paused. “Well, you need to talk to him about it first, ok? He's going to have to sign off on this arrangement, too.” I knew that would be easier said than done as Allen walked back into the front room with Prince all bundled up. “Ok, he’s ready to go, Mommy. I bet he will fall asleep as soon as you drive off this block.” I reached in and kissed him on the cheek and then followed Allen outside. Mrs. Butler grabbed my arm before I left the house and pulled me in for a hug, “I love you, baby, ok? Don’t you ever forget that? You will ALWAYS be my daughter-in-law, no matter what happens and Prince is your child, ok? He is YOURS, and as far as I’m concerned, all we are here to do is help when you need it,” she kissed me on my cheek, “I love you, ok? And I’m praying for you.” I felt the warmth from her hug. It was something I needed more than anything at the moment. “Thank you and I love you too, Mom.”
That night, I hoped that Nas would come home so I could talk to him about Prince. I knew he would have been against it if I brought it up to him a few months ago, but now it seemed like it was the best time, especially with him talking about moving away to another city. I wanted Prince to be somewhere stable where he would have a normal life. School, friends, even some after-school activities like athletics. As far as I’m concerned, he could be the next Kobe Bryant so I wanted to give him every chance for that to happen.
Nas never came home, though, and it was another lonely night with me inside of a big, four-bedroom house that I didn’t even need. Even though Prince was cuddled next me sound asleep, I felt the loneliest I had in years.
Chapter 7
When I got to their house, police lights lit up the block as they were parked in front of her house. I pulled up as close as I could in my car before I leaped out and ran to their home. Police officers stood in front of me, blocking my path. “That’s my mother!” I yelled out frantically as I tried to move them away from me.
“Ma’am, just calm down. We’re—”
Just then, Serena ran down towards me and caught hold of my arm, pulling me past them with tears in her eyes. “What happened?” I yelled as she wiped tears from her eyes, pulling me closer to the house. Inside, three police officers glared at me when I walked through the door as they stood in front of Stacey. She was clearly shaken up as she rocked back and forth on her couch, her lip burst and swollen. I walked up to her, “Mom? Mom, what happened? Where is Dad?” I said as my heart beat through my chest. Her eyes locked on mine as she stood up and embraced me, her tears dripping down onto my shoulder. She tried to talk, but she couldn’t squeeze the words out because of her tears. I looked at the officers,
“What’s going on here? What happened to my mother?”
The short, round officer looked at me incredulously, “Attempted murder,” he said as he rocked back and forth on his heels, “And who are you?” I turned back to Mrs. Butler, “I’m her daughter,” I said as I held her tighter. Serena sat on the couch, the same horrified look on her face I saw when she ran towards me outside. The officers turned to her, “Ma’am, you say you didn’t see anything? You just heard it, right?” She answered robotically, “Yes. I just heard it; I didn’t see his face. I heard him; I just didn’t see him.” The officer wrote a few things down before he addressed Mrs. Butler again,
“Ma’am, anything you can tell us will be helpful, ok?”
“I’ve told you. He wore a mask, and he made like he was going to snatch my purse, but then he let it go and struck me with his pistol. When I fell to the ground, he stood over me and aimed it directly at my head and pulled the trigger but the gun jammed. He called me a bitch, and then he pulled it three more times, and it just clicked, no bullets came out. That’s when Serena yelled my name and then he took off down the street. When he stood next to me, he was a few inches taller than me, and he was a skinny guy, not big at all. That’s all I know. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Mom, I’m gonna be back to check on you, ok?”
“Wait, baby, where is Prince?”
“I don’t think he should stay here today, Mom. I mean, you’re a not in—”
“Please, just bring him in. If anything, he is going to help me keep my mind off what just happened. Your father should be on his way home so he’ll be here with us. Please, Lyric? Just… just bring him. Please.”
I couldn’t look her in the eyes and still tell her no, especially the way she was pleading with me. I could see in her eyes that he was the little bit of hope that she could hold onto right now, and I know what that meant for her. Prince was still in the car fast asleep when I walked back outside. I knew that there were police cars all around us that could pose as temporary babysitters while I ran inside. I brought him in, and he was awakened as soon as he heard Mrs. Butler’s voice. His dimple pushed his cheek in as he flailed his arms, trying to free himself from the car seat. “There is my baby!” she said, smiling at him as she unbuckled his safety belts. Serena got up and walked over to him, kissing him on his face as he cooed for them to keep going.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, ok, Mom?”
“Ok, sweetie. You be careful out there, ok?”
I left the house in a heartbeat and headed straight to the trap house on Buffum Street. I had tunnel vision as I drove, focused on Nas as I subconsciously avoided potholes and sped through yellow lights before they turned red. I wasn’t going to stop if I didn’t have to. I parked outside the house and jumped out the car. A few men nodded at me as they stood outside but I walked right past them in a blur and started banging on the door, “Open this fuckin’ door, Loc!” He waited for a few moments as I hit it again and the bolts were removed from the other side one by one. As soon as he cracked it, I kicked it the rest of the way open. Loc jumped back with his shotgun aimed at me, but I paid no attention to it. “Where is Nas at, Loc?” I asked, an ice grill plastered on my face. “He’s gone. He left earlier this morning, and he hasn’t been back since. He took Man-Man with him somewhere.” “That bitch ass nigga”, I said out loud, “he fucking promised! He promised me!”
Queen of the City 2: The Life of a Female Rapper Page 6