Pandora's Box

by Coffee

  Kamal shook his head at the thought of how sugar could turn to shit in second before he finished answering the rest of his question.

  “And BG outside, running through a pack of Kools like it ain’t nothing. Youngin’ nerves are through. He ain’t gon’ be one hunnid ‘til his brother is home and his cousin pull through. Shit, I ain’t either,” Kamal admitted.

  A moment of silence fell between them right before Keyz’ cell phone vibrated against his hip. He removed it from the holster. “Let me step out and take this. It’s Shaunie.”

  Kamal nodded his head upward and watched Keyz place his phone to his ear and step outside of the facility before he took a seat next to Minnie, who had yet to speak more than two words since arriving.

  ***

  “He’s coming to now. Call the doctor.” One of the nurses instructed of the other when she observed his eyes opening.

  She spoke very softly as to not alarm him. Placing a hand on his shoulder to alert him of her presence, she soothingly said, “Sir, I’m Nurse Akem and you’re in the hospital.”

  His eyes opened fully but he started blinking them in a disorientated manner as he looked around the room, registering his foreign scenery.

  “How did I— What happened?” He groaned when he attempted to sit up.

  “Don’t move. Relax, please.” She readjusted the incline of his bed before pulling out his chart. “You were shot and you were in a three car accident. Do you remember any of this?”

  “Who are you?” G’Corey squinted his eyes at her, wearing a pained expression on his face.

  “I’m your nurse. Nurse Akem.” She smiled genuinely at her patient.

  Then the opening of the door the door caught both of their attention. The attending walked in and stood at the end of G’Corey’s bed.

  “How are you? I’m the ER physician, Dr. Jackson.” The nurse handed him his chart and he thumbed through the pages in it. “We didn’t find any identification on you. Can you tell us your name?”

  “My name?” G’Corey repeated.

  “Yes, your name.”

  G’Corey’s eyes roamed from left to right as his mouth opened and then closed. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know what happened in the shooting you were involved in?” He pointed at his left shoulder.

  “I was shot?” G’Corey looked as if he wanted to shed real tears.

  “Do you know the year we’re in or the current president of our country?” The doctor further probed.

  G’Corey was becoming flustered at the questions.

  The doctor could see he was becoming vexed by his inability to answer him, so he told him to relax. “Wait right here, buddy. I’ll be back.” The doctor left out of the room.

  “I was shot?” G’Corey feigned concern and then gently brushed over the covering on his blade where he had been shot.

  “Yes and you were lucky, may I add. You see, the shoulder contains the subclavian artery, which feeds the brachial artery, the main artery of the arm, as well as the brachial plexus, the large nerve bundle that controls arm function. Had that bullet hit you just a quarter of an inch toward the right, you would have needed surgery to deal with blood vessel damage, severe pain and loss of motor function. But it was a clean shot and all you needed were stitches, anti-inflammatories and pain meds.”

  “What about my memory, though? Why don’t I remember what happened?” G’Corey asked as he rubbed his scalp in a circular motion.

  “Sometimes with a concussion, which you suffered, you can sustain short term loss that can range from minutes to hours, but you will regain full memory. We’ve ran some CT’s of the head and we’ll know more shortly after reading your films.”

  “Ah, Miss, where are my clothes?” He looked underneath his sheet and discovered he was draped in a gown.

  She pointed off to the side. “There in that bin but what you’re wearing is sufficient until you’re discharged.”

  Nurse Akem remained at his bedside and that made G’Corey made feel uneasy. He didn’t like being under her watchful eye, even though her intentions were to administer care.

  He grabbed at his throat. “Umm, Miss, could you get me some water, please?”

  “Surely,” she exited the room.

  G’Corey sprung out of bed. “Aaahhh!” He moaned at the dizziness he felt once he stood to his feet. He staggered over to the spot where his clothes were located and clumsily stepped into his jeans as quickly as using one arm would allow. He then slipped his feet into his tennis shoes, walking on the backs of them as he headed to the door.

  He peeked his head out, waiting impatiently for a moment to slick out. The halls were busy and no time seemed appropriate but it wouldn’t be long before his nurse returned, so G’Corey decided now had to be the time.

  “Fuck it!” he said below his breath, swiveling her head one last time before he walked out, hurriedly.

  Clutching the back of the open gown, he walked at a moderate speed but not too fast as he didn’t want to draw suspicion on himself.

  G’Corey walked a few feet before he turned slightly behind him to see if any medical staff was following when he bumped into a doctor.

  “Ahhhhh!” G’Corey groaned the moment they brushed into each other, gritting down on his teeth from the stinging sensation that surged down his arm.

  The doctor asked, looking him over. “Are you alright? What are you doing out of your room? Come on, let me walk you back.”

  Shit! G’Corey thought to himself. He didn’t want to stick around for them to probe him for answers on who he was or make any connections to what was done earlier that day when news of the shooting became public knowledge, if it wasn’t already. So he couldn’t afford to be under their scrutiny.

  “Which room is yours?”

  “Ahh, it’s room—”

  “Excuse me, Doctor, can you please sign these discharge papers.” The nurse kindly interrupted.

  The doctor turned away to place his John Hancock on the form, she held up for his signature. And in the fifteen seconds it took for him wrap up with her, G’Corey was gone.

  “Where did he go?” The doctor spun around but didn’t see G’Corey anywhere.

  She hunched her shoulders before stepping off to tend to her patients.

  “Humph,” the doctor looked about before carrying on, just the same.

  A few minutes later, G’Corey was walking out of Touro Hospital and down Prytania St.

  The cloak of darkness the midnight hours brought covered him as he walked to the Discount gas station on St. Charles Ave.

  G’Corey had to get from off of the streets, but he had no means to do it by himself. So as he waited off to the side of the building, he asked a few people for change but was turned down before he could even get the words out.

  Finally, one man walked up on him. “You alright, lil’ brother?”

  “Nah, I’m in need of some change, Unc. I have to make a call so I can get home.”

  The older cat reached into his pocket and dumped the crumpled dollars and loose coins into G’Corey’s hand. “There you go, fam.”

  “Take yo bills, Unc. I only need these quarters, ya heard me.”

  The man did as G’Corey asked and then walked away after he thanked him for his help.

  G’Corey walked over to the pay phone, looked down the street both ways and then dropped the coins into the slot, punching the numeric buttons.

  The phone just rang, so by the fourth ring, he hung up before the operator came on and he lost his money. He dialed him again.

  “Come on, bruh. Pick up yo fuckin’ phone,” he spoke into the receiver, impatiently. On the final ring right before he was going to hang up and dial again, Hakeem answered. “Finally! Yo, I need you to come pick me up. I’m uptown, in your area at this gas station on St. Charles.”

  Right there, Hakeem spoke under his breath to his baby’s mom before addressing him. “Say, G, you caught me at a bad time, dawg.”

  “Well, it gotta be the right fucki
n’ time because I need you. Shit is real.”

  “Hang up the phone, baby,” she kissed up his chest before tonguing his ear.

  Damn, Hakeem moaned when he felt the warmth of her swirl. He knew she was trying to convince him to stay put.

  G’Corey was already impatient and now he became irritated. “Dawg, I know you heard me say I need you!”

  Fuck! Hakeem moved the phone from by his mouth. “Keep that on ice ‘til I get back, ya heard me. I gotta make a run real fast.”

  G’Corey could hear the girl expressing her disapproval. “He always need you to get him out of some shit. You really need to stop messing with him. He’s nothing but trouble, for real.”

  “That’s my boy, bae. I’ma scoop him and be right back, ya heard me.”

  “Mmmhmmm, but you heard what I said. He ain’t nothing but trouble.”

  Hakeem brushed it off and returned back to the phone. “A’ight, where you at?”

  G’Corey wanted to respond to his girl having too much unsavory shit to say about him, but instead he gave him the particulars and then they disconnected after he was told he’d get picked up in ten minutes.

  Again, G’Corey eyed both directions of the street before he walked back to the side of the building and kicked over a crate to sit on as he waited in the shadows. He rubbed his hand carefully over his wound.

  Shit is about to get really real!

  Chapter 9

  It was 2 a.m. Monday morning. Minnie was sleep deprived and stressed. She hadn’t left the hospital since Yuriah was admitted. Although urged by everyone to go home and get rest, shower and eat, she refused all of their advice to take care of herself and remained steadfast. Had it not been for her mother, she would still be in her stained wedding dress with not even a morsel of food in her system.

  She was mentally exhausted as well. After what she thought was a successful surgery late Sunday morning, immediately turned into another emergency, calling for a second operation when one of his lungs collapsed. Now having to undergo another procedure, there was no way she’d leave. It was simply preposterous for them to think otherwise.

  Kamal refused to leave also. He always had reason to ride out any situation with or for Yuriah, but what solidified his eternal debt was what took place twelve years ago.

  Yuriah could have left him hanging that night, but he didn’t. And for that, Kamal could never turn his back on him.

  “Ain’t this a bitch?” Kamal pulled onto the shoulder of the I-10 when a state trooper flagged him over. Fuck! He mouthed as he looked out of his rearview mirror and saw two men walking toward him at a cautious pace.

  Yuriah was in the trail vehicle behind Kamal, so he saw when they hit the lights and rode up on him. Yuriah bypassed the spot where Kamal parked, pulling off of the side of highway just a few yards up ahead.

  The bright flashlights the two officers held shoulder high while approaching both sides of his car were blinding. They drew near and once they were up on his car, the officer on Kamal’s side tapped his window.

  “Let yer winder down and stick yer hands out dat der winder slowly and don’t try no funny stuff, ya hear?” The officer spoke with a thick of confederacy dripping from his tone. His left hand trained his light directly in Kamal’s face while the right rested on his gun still on his belt.

  “You don’t gotta shine that shit in my face, no.” Kamal’s voice could not hide his aggression.

  The hick cop didn’t bother to acknowledge him. He simply proceeded with his questions.

  “You got any weapons or drug paraphernalia we should know about it there?”

  With his hands still out of the window and his face forward, he asked a more pressing question. “Whatchu stoppin’ me fa?”

  “Answer my question, boy.”

  Kamal whipped his neck to the left and almost retracted his hands to open his door, step out and show him who wasn’t a boy but he kept his cool. He was riding dirty and he didn’t need to give those back wood, redneck muthafuckas a reason to hem him up more so than they were already. His record was long enough from his run ins with the law.

  “Nah, I don’t got shit. So, like I said, whatchu stoppin’ me fa?”

  “You didn’t use yer blinker back der when you were changing lanes and dat der qualifies you for a traffic stop. So, I’m gon’ need yer license, ID and registration. You do have that, don’t cha?”

  Kamal didn’t answer. Instead he went to pull his hands back so he could get the requested information. The second he did so, both officers drew their weapons and pointed them at his head.

  He heard the sounds of their bullets being chambered and then the officer on the right spoke. “Don’t try nothing stupid.”

  The corner of Kamal’s lip went into a high arch as he grimaced, swiveling his head from side to side as he tried his best to see beyond the shine of their lights and at the peckerwoods who were dying for a chance to kill from behind the badge.

  “Before I die tonight, I’m taking one of these crackas with me,” Kamal said to himself as he angrily collected what was asked of him.

  “Thank you, boyyy. We’ll be right back.”

  Kamal placed his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed it tightly as his lips balled into an even tighter knot. Had he had his piece under the seat as he usually did, he would roasted him two pigs.

  Yuriah was still sitting in his car with the lights off but the engine running just in case he had to ride back and let his Glock 9 put something on their minds.

  After waiting idly for a few minutes, his phone lit up with a call from Kamal. He hurriedly answered, “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Mann, I would get stopped in the worst fuckin’ parish there is. Pussy, racist ass bitches stopped me on not using a turn signal. But I don’t got no warrants or attachment so we should be rolling in no time.”

  “A’ight just keep your cool and keep your phone on you so I can hear what’s goin’ on until they leave,” Yuriah advised.

  “Here they come nah.” Kamal locked his screen and then he slipped his phone into his jacket.

  The same officer stepped to him and handed his things back. “Looks like everything checked out on ya. Surprised the hell out of me.” He laughed but Kamal didn’t find shit funny.

  The other officer cased the vehicle, shining his light through every window. He then came on the same side as his partner and began sniffing. “I smell weed. Do you smell weed, Jim?”

  “I surely do. Do you have weed in the car?”

  “Are you fuckin’ serious? You don’t smell no goddamn weed ‘cause I don’t smoke that shit,” Kamal glared at them. It became clear to him that these two good ole boys weren’t gonna sleep easy until they locked him up for something.

  The second, instigating officer pointed his light into Kamal’s astray. “Then what’s that?”

  Kamal didn’t turn his head, he just answered. “That’s a Black n Mild. A cigar. There’s a difference. Can I leave nah?”

  “Sure. Right after we check the inside of your vehicle.”

  “I don’t give you no fuckin’ permission to check my shit and you got no fuckin’ grounds anyway.” Kamal’s body temperature elevated, causing him to produce a light sweat all over.

  “Step out of the vehicle. Now!” He readied his hand on his pistol.

  “Mannn, what the fuck? I told you I don’t have no muthafuckin’. Ooooh!” He bit down on his bottom lip and angrily stepped out.

  “Against the hood.”

  “But this bitch hot.” Kamal had been driving nonstop from Texas and his engine was still running.

  “Are you resisting, boy?”

  Kamal stopped talking. There was no need to exchange any more words with an identified enemy. He angrily got on the heated hood of the car and waited until they did their illegal search.

  The interior of the rental was clean. Nothing was inside except for a half empty bottle of Ever Fresh juice and the half smoked cigar.

  “It’s clear. The one performing the search
yelled out to his partner.

  “Pop the trunk and check it.” The officer watching Kamal told the other.

  Upon opening the trunk, he saw one suitcase. He opened it and shifted through the clothes, finding a brick in the trough.

  “Yee doggie. Looks like we done struck gold.” He celebrated.

  The other officer spit out his Copenhagen tobacco and began reading off Kamal’s right.

  Kamal wanted to head butt him, relieve him of his gun and try his luck on getting away but that would be taking penitentiary chances for sure. So, he let the reckless thought pass.

  “Shit!” he said below his breath.

  One officer took the keys from his rental and locked up the car. They’d call for impound to pick it up for evidence. Meanwhile, Kamal was placed in the back of their unit and hauled off to Lake Charles City Jail.

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived at county. “Welcome home, boy.” He got a good kick out of that.

  They walked on either side of Kamal until a voice behind them caused them to stop and turn around.

  “You got the wrong man,” Yuriah yelled out to them as he walked toward them.

  “Whatchu say?” One of them spoke up.

  “I said you got the wrong man. Those drugs are for me, not him. He didn’t know shit about it being in there. That’s my charge.”

  Kamal shook his head no. “Nah, that—”

  “That’s why he couldn’t tell you shit. He didn’t know shit. So, go ‘head arrest me.” Yuriah over talked him.

  The officer nodded off to his partner for him to escort Yuriah inside while he walked in Kamal. It made him no never mind as long as he met his quota of locking a brother up for the day.

  After they were both booked and processed, they were placed in a holding cell. The moment the officer walked away, Kamal went in.

  “Bruh, what the fuck you doing? I knew the risks. I’ma take my own lick, ya heard me.”