In Love with a Thug

by Reginald L. Hall

  “Juan, Baby, you got so big. Stand up and give your Aunt Ada some sugar,” she said, extending her arms out to me to hug her. As she kissed the side of my face I could smell that she had overdone it on the perfume. “Stand back and let me take a look at you. I saw you in one of those magazines. Your momma must be real proud,” she stated, looking over to my mother who smiled and agreed with her. “Do you still own your own shop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm, I need to come down there and get something done to my hair,” she said, patting her hand on top of her head where her wig sat.

  “Okay, y’all come on now. The car is outside,” said one of my boy cousins walking into the kitchen sporting a cream suit similar to the linen suit that I wore. I stood up and my mother came over to me.

  “Mom, I don’t think I should go,” I said, shaking my head when my Aunt Ada overheard me.

  “Yes, you have to go,” Aunt Ada snapped. “Because if you don’t then you’re gonna regret not having closure. You will start to have bad dreams and they will never go away. Now you love your father, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I responded as a lonely tear fell from my eye and down my cheek.

  “Well, let’s go say good-bye to your father.” She grabbed my hand and led me into the living room with my mother tailing behind rubbing my back.

  The living room was crowded with my family from both sides. My uncles sat on the couch as they discussed the Eagles game that had aired last week while my little cousin sat talking about boys.

  I walked on the porch where the neighbors were waiting for my mother to come out. Half the project was out looking, waiting for my family to make an entrance into the limo.

  “How are you feeling?” asked my little homie Rondell standing with a basketball in his hand. Rondell and I were the best of friends while growing up. I was his big brother when I’d volunteered for the Big Brothers and Big Sisters program of Philadelphia. But by the time he turned eighteen he’d gone off to college on a basketball scholarship and now some bigwigs up in New York were having talks about him being drafted to the NBA. He was now twenty-one. We hugged and gave each other dap.

  “I’m fine for right now,” I said. “But I really don’t wanna go to the funeral,” I added.

  “How are you not gonna go to your own father’s funeral?” he asked, bouncing the basketball.

  “Because, Rondell, I can’t imagine my father lying in a casket. I thought I would at least be in my forties or fifties when either of my parents died but I’m in my twenties and this shit don’t feel right.”

  He turned to face me as he held the basketball in his arm. “Look, when my grandmother died, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I didn’t know where to turn but I knew I needed to be strong for my mother. Just pray and know that things are gonna work out. Remember! That’s what you used to always tell me.”

  I looked at him and smiled. One thing I can say about Rondell is that he always knew what to say to make me feel better.

  “You know what, baby boy, you’re right.” I looked at him and smiled. “So you do listen when I talk to you, huh?” I teased.

  “Well, someone has to keep you on your toes,” he said as he gave me a long hug. “Now go ahead with your family to your father’s funeral and act like the fuck you know,” he demanded.

  “Nigga, don’t be cursing at me. Sometimes you forget that I’m your big brother,” I said.

  “No, I’m your big brother,” he teased as he began bouncing the basketball.

  “Go ahead, dude, I’ll check you later.”

  “Alright, Rondell.”

  “One.”

  “Juan, come into the house so we can have prayer,” yelled my Uncle Lewis from the doorway. I ran back into the house so I could say a prayer of comfort for me and my family.

  The ride to the church was as dreadful as watching Rob lie on my office floor having his life slip away. One of my aunts had forgotten her bottled water in the house so that gave me more reason to stall.

  The front of the church was decked out in wreaths and flags and there were a lot of people waiting for our arrival—mostly distant family and friends who had begun to line up outside the church. The driver got out of the limo and walked around to let my mother and me out first.

  I don’t wanna go, I thought to myself with my eyes filling up with tears. I grabbed a hold to my cousin Nicole’s hand as I screamed to the top of my lungs.

  “I don’t wanna go in there,” I yelled with tears falling down my face. My mother stood in front of me, holding on to my uncle as the funeral director led us up the red steps and into the church. Everyone was at peace with the fact that my father had been sick but it still hadn’t set into my mind. My tears were falling as we two stepped into the church as the director recited the “Lord’s Prayer.”

  My legs felt so weak, I couldn’t stand. Another cousin, Mona, stood on the other side of me and we slowly walked into the church. I looked up through blurry eyes to see the flowers that lay on top of the open casket. I couldn’t do this. This was one funeral that I was not ready for. The closer we got to the casket the more tears fell from my eyes.

  “Oh my God,” I yelled as the rest of the people in the church looked on. By the time my mother got to the casket I began to fall down. I saw my mother bend down to kiss a man on his forehead and that man was my father.

  The funeral director motioned to my cousin and me that we were next. Somehow I was able let go of both of my cousin’s hands. I turned and hightailed out of the church. I ran through the crowd—out of the door and down the steps skipping two at a time with Mona, Nicole, and Bryant running behind me. I got to the bottom of the steps and screamed loud as I thought of my father teaching me how to climb trees, sitting me on his lap while driving in a car and, most of all, telling me to kiss his cheek every morning before school.

  I just couldn’t do it. I could not go back into that church. I sobbed, lying my head down on Nicole’s double D’s after she’d caught up with me.

  “Calm down. Everything is gonna be alright,” she said, running her hands through my hair.

  “Look, Bryant and Mona are here with you. We’re all gonna go in there together,” said Nicole, grabbing my hand and walking with me slowly up the steps and back into the church. I grabbed her hand and squeezed as tight as I could as my Aunt Lucy grabbed my other hand. I sobbed loudly all the way to the front of the church. I passed by all my family members that sat on one side of the church while my dad’s neighbors and family and friends sat on the other.

  I regretted this day from the bottom of my heart. I loved my father very much, no matter what he’d done or said to me in the past. My heart felt heavy as I approached the tan-colored casket looking at my dad lying in a brown suit. His eyes were closed tight and his hands were folded very neatly over his stomach.

  “See, your dad is at peace,” said Nicole as she held me up by the lower part of my back. “He’s at peace now. Here, touch him.”

  My face was wet from tears, sweat, and snot. I held my hand out to touch his cheek. I fixed his tie that seemed to be a little crooked. I looked down at his shoes to make sure they matched his suit. My daddy was lying there dead. I looked up to the ceiling of the church.

  “Oh, God, I can’t breathe,” I yelled as Bryant, Mona, and Nicole walked me over to a seat next to my mother who was being comforted by her brother, my Uncle Lewis. I laid my head down on Nicole’s shoulder and the choir began to sing as the ushers passed out the programs.

  I looked down at my dad’s picture on the front and thought, this can’t be. The tears would not stop. One of the ushers handed Nicole a Kleenex and she handed it to me to dab my eyes. Oh, God, why my daddy? were the words that flowed through my mind. After about twenty minutes my eyes cleared up as I had come to realize that I should not question where God puts a period.

  “So I know you’re happy that you’re going home today,” I said to Anthony as I helped him pack his bag while we waited for his discharge papers.
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  “You’re damn right I’m happy. I’m tired of lying in this bed all day and I’m tired of eating this hospital food,” he joked, trying to get up from the bed but needing help. Since Anthony had been in the hospital he had lost a lot of weight and his bones were quite frail.

  “Here, let me help you,” I said, helping him from the bed into the wheelchair. He looked up into my eyes after he’d sat down.

  “You know, I’m so sorry to hear of your dad and your friend passing.”

  “Thank you,” I said, getting him together. “That’s okay, Anthony, because both of them are in a better place now.” I reached over for the remote to turn off the TV.

  Knock, knock.

  “Come in,” said Anthony in a weak tone. A young Caucasian lady with long, jet-black hair entered the room wearing a long white lab coat.

  “Hey! How are you today?” she said, squatting down to Anthony’s eye level.

  “I’m fine, just happy to be going home,” Anthony responded cheerfully. I sat on the side of the bed waiting for the doctor to hand Anthony the discharge papers for him to sign.

  “Yeah, I know you are but here’s the thing. Um, I need to speak with you about something very important,” she said in a low tone.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Anthony shot back excitedly. I made myself comfortable on the bed because I had a feeling that this was gonna be a long drawn-out discussion on how he needed to take care of his new kidney once he was released.

  “Um, it’s kind of personal. Do you wish to have someone in the room while I talk to you or would you like us to talk in private,” she said, looking over at me and then at him. Anthony turned to me with a smile on his face.

  “Juan, can you please step out of the room for a minute while I talk to the doctor?”

  “Sure,” I said, getting up from the bed and setting his bags down. “I’ll be right out in the hall if you need me.”

  “Okay, love you,” Anthony said.

  “Love you back.” I walked out the door closing it behind me.

  I walked around to the snack machine and bought a bag of my favorite candy, M&M’s with almonds. Ohhh, I loved them. By the time I got back around to Anthony’s room I heard a loud scream.

  “Aaaahhhh,” yelled Anthony from inside the room. I knocked on the door before opening it and walking in. Anthony was now in a wheelchair and screaming hysterically.

  “Can you please stand outside?” the doctor asked as I tried my hardest to follow her orders but couldn’t because my friend looked as if he was in pain.

  “Aaaahhhh,” Anthony continued to yell. “Juan,” he cried out to me raising his arms for me to lift him up from the chair. I ran over to him.

  “Anthony, what’s wrong?” I asked as his tears fell from his face as if he was in excruciating pain. The doctor backed away and walked toward the door.

  “I’m gonna go get some tissues,” she said as she walked out the room closing the door behind her. I grabbed Anthony and gave him a hug. I held him tight as he sobbed in my arms.

  “Anthony, tell me what’s wrong,” I begged.

  “I’m gonna die,” he yelled as his cries got louder. The tears in my eyes started to swell.

  “What do you mean you’re gonna die? What’s wrong”? I held on to Anthony as tightly as I could without him falling from the wheelchair.

  “I got AIDS,” he cried as he continued to hold me tight. I gathered him up and laid him down on the bed.

  “Anthony, please calm down,” I yelled with tears falling from my eyes. The doctor came back into the room with a box of tissues.

  “Ahhh,” continued Anthony as he grabbed the pillow and held it tight. I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

  “Doctor, can you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked. “I’m his next of kin,” I added.

  Anthony continued to yell as he bit into the pillow on the bed. The doctor reached for his chart that was on the bed.

  “What’s your name, sir?” she asked.

  “Juan. Juan Jiles.”

  “Okay, sir, I see your name. Is he your brother?”

  “Yes, my brother.”

  “Well, sir, your brother has AIDS.”

  “Oh, God,” I yelled as the doctor grabbed me. My head was beginning to hurt. I felt weak. The next thing I knew, I was out cold on the floor.

  XIV

  NO NEGOTIATION

  “This year’s America’s Next Top Model is…Tiffany,” said Tyra Banks as I lay in the hospital bed snacking on some crackers that the nurse had brought me. My mother was asleep in the chair next to the table so I kept quiet because I didn’t want to wake her.

  At first, I didn’t understand why I was in the hospital but the nurse told me that I’d had a nervous breakdown and I could go home today.

  “Are you okay?” my mother asked as she squirmed from side to side in the chair. I could tell that it was uncomfortable by the look on her face.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry if the television was up too loud. I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, still snacking on the crackers.

  “It’s okay, honey. I really couldn’t sleep well in that chair,” she said, getting up and walking over to me. She rested her hand on my arm.

  “Baby, how are you really feeling?” she asked again.

  I continued to chew the crackers before swallowing so I could speak. “Mom, I’m fine, really. Where’s Anthony?” I asked, popping another cracker into my mouth.

  My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes. She knew that Anthony and I had been friends for the longest. I stopped chewing the dry piece of cracker as I watched her reaction to my question. My tears fell instantly as my mother grabbed me and held me.

  “Sweetheart, did you know that Anthony had AIDS?”

  “Yes, Mommy, we just found out.”

  She came over to me and rubbed my face with her soft, delicate hands.

  “Baby, Anthony’s blood pressure was high and on top of the AIDS, we found out that he had type-2 diabetes.”

  My heart fell to my feet as I thought of my best friend lying in the hospital with tubes up his nose again. I couldn’t stand it. I took a deep breath and looked my mom dead in the eyes.

  “Is he gonna be okay?” I asked with a shaky voice.

  My mother came over and grabbed me. The tears started running down my face. I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was that I wanted to see Anthony now. My mother held me tighter as she rocked me back and forth as we both cried.

  “Sweetheart, Anthony is with God now. He didn’t make it.”

  XV

  PAYBACK’S A BITCH

  On the day of Rob’s funeral I was awakened to a hearty meal made by my one and only. I was grateful to have a man by my side at this time when it seemed as if all had failed.

  Bryant came into the bedroom fully dressed in all black, waiting for me to dress so he could escort me to the funeral. He came and sat down on the side of the bed where I lay with my back against the headboard. He grabbed my hand as he lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand gently.

  “I love you,” he said exotically as if I didn’t know.

  “Bryant, I love you, too,” I responded. He let my hand go and turned to face the window.

  “You know, at this time, I really want to be honest with you,” he said, looking down at the floor, then back at the window. “I’m a scared brother. You know I may walk around here acting all tough but, really, I’m scared. I have my whole life ahead of me and I’m scared. I want us to start going to church, you know?” He looked up at my face.

  “I want to go to college and make something of myself. There’s something else I want to be honest with you about.” He turned to face me. “And I don’t want you to love me any less because I did this.”

  “Bryant, what did you do?” I asked in anticipation. He took a deep breath and began to talk.

  “I killed Melissa myself,” he said without holding back. My heart raced. “I wanted to tell you that because in order for us t
o start out on the right foot, I thought you needed to know everything about me.” He then turned to face the window.

  At this time I became scared right along with him. I loved this man and was so sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

  “Baby, you’re right. We need to know about each other’s pasts. I’ve been wanting to tell you something about my dark past for a long time.”

  He turned around and looked me in my eyes. “What is it?” he asked with a serious look on his face.

  I sighed as my eyes began tearing. “Before you and I started dating, I had a boyfriend named Darnell and he was very greedy for money. So he came up with a plan for us to rob a bank downtown and, at first, I wasn’t with it but then…” Tears started to roll down my face. “Once my parents disowned me, I didn’t have any money so he asked me to help him rob a bank and we would live comfortably together. So I did,” I explained as I cried uncontrollably.

  He looked at me with heated eyes, similar to the look he had when he was kicking my ass in his grandmother’s basement. His eyes also began to swell with tears.

  “Did anyone get hurt?” he asked firmly.

  “I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt,” I cried, now trembling and shaking at what he was about to do.

  “I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he yelled with a tight fist. “Now, did anyone get hurt?” he asked again but this time he said it more calmly.

  “Yes, Bryant. A few people got hurt.”

  “A few people, huh?” He stood up from the bed and turned around to face me. His eyes widened. “Who?”

  “Bryant, I never knew their names. I didn’t know those people,” I explained.

  “You didn’t know those people but you know whether they were males or females,” he yelled. He rushed over to me and gripped me by my neck. “You fuckin’ faggot. Tell me who you hurt.” He let my neck loose just enough so I could breath and tell him who had gotten hurt.

  “Three people were shot. Two males and one female,” I yelled as he knocked me across the bed with his fist. I yelled as I held my throbbing face and I began to cry all over again.