SEVEN: I love it. How lucky am I to be around such one of kind human beings. This is like, the coolest story I’ve ever heard when combining what I know about you and your brother so far. And I ask myself the question, what landed me here.
DESTINY: Maybe because you are the one.
SEVEN: And what makes you believe your discernment is an accurate judgement. Especially when you or your brother don’t know much about me.
DESTINY: It’s amazing how our upbringing can mold us to be so humble, to where we are not fully aware of our own self-worth. Which may cause one to not see what others around them can see.
SEVEN: (Turns and looks at Destiny from her words hitting his soul)
DESTINY: Consider yourself blessed. I know the men very well, and it’s discouraging to a young virgin woman who awaits true love. And when I am around a man of purity, it’s like a breath of fresh air. I believe it is in the book of Matthew 6: 22, “the eyes are the lamp of the body, if your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light.”
SEVEN: I see.. Matthew, the tax collector who left everything to follow Jesus. I guess I never saw what other’s saw in me.
DESTINY: A handsome man can take advantage of his looks just as a woman can. When you see one alone on his birthday, at a conscious spot like The Melting Pot, who happens to be courteous and humble, that is rare. If you were to google the word, humble, it would read, “having or showing a modest or low estimate of one’s own importance.” Synonyms for the word humble are meek, deferential, respectful, submissive, diffident, underprivileged, self- effacing to name a few. And with that being said, my world flashed in front of me. I thought I was going to die, get raped or get me and my brother caught up. I know my relationship with God hasn’t been like it should, but I prayed as I lost strength. That man was too strong for me to fight off. And just as I couldn’t fight anymore, out of nowhere this man comes and saves me. And for doing so, he was sacrificed and beat, just so I can live and be free. I thought you might have died that night. And less than twenty-four hours later, this very savior stood at my door way. Like he came back alive like Jesus.
SEVEN: (Chills ran through his body as he gives her a priceless look of appreciation. He politely shakes her hand) You saved me, just as much as I saved you.
They both sat on the floor with their back leaned against the couch. He could feel her energy become receptive of the real touch of a man. Destiny took her right pointer finger and traced the veins in his hand. No more words were spoken as the two experienced the moment. Destiny would fall asleep as Seven mentally wrote in his mind. When the time felt right, he awakes her by asking if she wanted to lay on the couch or go to her bed. She climbs onto the couch and positioned herself to her liking. Before leaving the room, he stops and looks back at her. He thought to himself, before knowing who she was, who would have guessed that a woman so fine, gifted, and smart could be so lonely. Lonely for all the right reasons. He thought of how the world always seems to find a way to balance us out.
He leaves Destiny’s world and enters the guest room. He lays on the bed while looking up at the ceiling. He puts the hand he shook Destiny’s hand with over his face. Her scent was like no other. It had a sweet, fresh and natural smell of a woman’s flesh. He wonders to himself, while lying in the grace of her scent, “what was going to happen next?”
Chapter
6
WHO IS SEVEN?
The smell of breakfast awakes Seven out of his sleep. It took him back to when his mother would have the whole house smelling every Saturday morning. He rolls out of bed and gets on his hands and knees. After connecting to the source, he makes his way to where the smell was coming from. He passes through the curtain and sees King in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on breakfast.
KING: Good morning Mr. Author.
SEVEN: Good morning. It sure is smelling good in here. I wasn’t expecting to see you in here cooking it up.
KING: Yea, I can show you better than I can tell you.
SEVEN: Right on.
KING: You sleep good family?
SEVEN: I slept great. Yo, what kind of bed is that?
KING: It’s a therapeutic mattress. If anybody has a problem sleeping on that mattress, then I don’t know what to tell them.
SEVEN: That’s the most comfortable bed that I ever slept on in my life.
In comes Destiny looking fly, but yet comfortable as she wants to be. She makes the simple things look good. She wore a native Indian head band with her hair in two pig tails coming down each side, a kid Cudi t-shirt and some leggings that brought out the fabulous shape of Miss June. Seven placed his bags by the garage door alongside the other luggage. The trio ate breakfast and began to prepare for take off. King checks to make sure all the windows were locked in the house. Once all the perimeters were secured to his satisfaction he sets the alarm. The alarm system was top of the line, consisting of a burglar blaster. The blaster dispensed pepper spray from triggered movements in certain locations in the home. The whole back yard was set up with movement sensors. A high tech video recording system set up on all four sides of the home. He could watch the outside of his home from on his cell phone. The area he wanted secured most was his small homemade built in closet where he kept his safe.
Both Destiny and Seven walk out into the garage and begin loading their bags in the trunk of King’s shiny black Cadillac. Seven always wanted to ride in the back seat of a Cadillac so he left the modesty behind for once and made the move without seeing about the seating arrangements. Destiny got in the front seat and looked at herself in the mirror. King was last to enter the car. Seven admired King’s choice of attire. People around his neighborhood would think he was just a quiet guy who might wear a white T-shirt, jeans, Jordan’s and driving a everyday car. And that was just how he wanted it to be. But outside of that, King was that fly guy who appreciated looking sharp, well dressed and smelling good.
KING: Alright we know the drill. It doesn’t hurt to double check.
DESTINY: Registration, inspection, valid driver’s license, insurance are good?
KING: Roger that.
DESTINY: All fluids are topped off, tire pressure and the house alarm is good?
KING: Roger that.
DESTINY: Watchu got for me?
KING: You got the reservations for hotel situated and the ticket confirmations for the Floyd Mayweather fight?
DESTINY: Roger me up big bro. I had to buy the tickets from someone who was selling them online. You know the Mayweather fight tickets been sold out for a while now. But your girl worked her jelly for us.
KING: Where are the seat’s located. I need them where all the money is at.
DESTINY: (Looks at King and speaks in a British accent) Are you trying to make a mockery of me. Of course they are. I even managed to get them eleven rows from the ring.
KING: Look at her go! (Shaking his head in disbelief while looking at Seven in the rear view mirror) Seven, this sister of mine never ceases to amaze me.
DESTINY: (Switches her voice to a Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx accent) Thank you Pappi, you know I’m all about the team work to make the dream work.
KING: So we’re good to go.
Both King and Destiny turned to the back seat and looked at Seven at the same time.
KING: You ready to rock and roll author.
DESTINY: (Speaks in a seductive school girl tone as if she was in an acting audition) Yea Mr. handsome Author, are you ready to escape with us.
SEVEN: (All smiles) I really don’t know what I’m getting myself into, but I’m ready.
KING: That’s what I’m talking about. Let’s ride! And you are the man with the pen and pad, write away compadre.
SEVEN: Roger that.
DESTINY: Okay okayyy. I don’t know big bro, he might be the shitz.
KING: You might be on the same something. We might have a killer back there.
DESTINY: He just don’t know it yet.
KING: Or maybe he does kn
ow.
DESTINY: In order to push that pen you have to be able to think. And that’s what they don’t want us to be able to do. I don’t know King, could we be dealing with a mastermind back there?
SEVEN: (Placing his pen on the top of his ear and chewing on a piece of gum) Only time will tell.
King signals for the garage door to open and the three amigos take off for Las Vegas.
The pen in Seven’s mind is puzzling all the pieces together. The more time Seven spent around King and Destiny is the more he realized how he was witnessing something you only see in movies. Despite how they lived their lives, he felt honored to be around the brother and sister. The were ghost like a CIA agent, mentally sharp as the bank robbers on the movie Oceans Eleven, and just cool as the wind. They genuinely made Seven feel more confident about himself. The young writer stares out the window and views God’s creation of earth. The fact of both King and Destiny being music lovers makes the road trip even more satisfying. Only the music played when leaving out of the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex. It wasn’t until they began to see green pastures and open land before they started conversing. Destiny turns sideways so she could see both King and Seven.
DESTINY: So I hear you are an author.
SEVEN: Well, I’m technically not an author yet. I have some material I’m working on.
KING: Do you write often or ever find yourself writing a little bit every day?
SEVEN: That’s an everyday thing. Even if it’s just a sentence or two.
KING: Well then, you are a writer despite not having a book published yet. Or if anybody has yet to read your work. That is what you do, that is a part of who you are. So you can claim it as if you are already an author. Own it my brother.
SEVEN: Right on. I feel you on that note.
DESTINY: Read something for us Seven.
SEVEN: I don’t have anything on me right now.
DESTINY: What about what you wrote right there on the pad?
SEVEN: Oh this is just some doodling around.
DESTINY: I’m all ears (While seating there staring at Seven in the spacious Cadillac)
KING: He’ll eventually come out that shell messing around with Destiny June.
SEVEN: Ok I’ll read it. But first do you mind if we play something with a mellow beat.
DESTINY: (While putting the AUX cord in her phone to play an instrumental) How does a Jay Dilla instrumental sound?
SEVEN: That’s right down my alley (Seven lifts his pad closer to where he could read better)
“Ever so moments of a bit worried from visions that arrive, possibilities of movies of our lives shaped right in front of my eyes. Listen close to the words on the carved wall of the strangers cell who opens up to tell what is seldomly unveiled. Knowing to go unjudged when it’s just us, so out of their shell to peep over their well, for a mental show and tell from the ones who feels of fails and the ones who breaks spells,” .. And that’s all I have so far on this piece of paper.
Seven and King make eye contact in the rear view mirror for a brief moment while Destiny smiles while nodding her head up and down.
DESTINY: Did you to start writing that since we got into the car?
SEVEN: Yes.
DESTINY: We haven’t been driving for long at all. Looks like we have a natural on our hands.
KING: A wordsmith.
DESTINY: Yo! I’m feeling it. The word play is sick, and plus it’s pretty deep. If you wrote that in this short amount of time, I just wonder what all you have stored up.
SEVEN: I appreciate the love.
KING: I see you listen well. You took a little bit of information I gave you and turned it an art form of words with your own twist to it. Just as we spoke yesterday, do what you have to do in order to create the books you want to write. With your mind and that pen combined, you got something.
SEVEN: I thank you, means a lot to me coming from you two.
DESTINY: What inspired you to write?
SEVEN: Before my mother passed, I asked her how my father was when he was around. I wanted to know what he on. She said he would sit by the window and write music most of the time.
DESTINY: I love how he gives us little tid bits and leaves the rest for our imagination to run wild. Relax and stay awhile, we have hours until we arrive to our destination.
KING: Told ya man, she’ll bring it out of you. Besides, “listen close to the words on the carved wall of the strangers cell who opens up to tell what is seldemly unveiled, knowing to go unjudged when it’s just us.” I believe those are the words of Seven.
SEVEN: Man, yall are good. And correct. So here we go. That thought of my dad writing, that always stayed in my mind growing up. It wasn’t until I graduated high school, graduated college, and worked for a company making what most people consider good money. But I wasn’t happy. I had accomplished everything that was taught or instilled in me. The American dream you could say. But something didn’t feel right. Something was missing. One day I woke up, and I’m in the world of money, business, status, ranks, corporate greed, and fake love. I’m seeing it all right in front of my eyes and can’t stand it. The pride, the selfishness, the lack of respect. At the core of intentions was greed, power, riches and control. I found myself not wanting to sit in hours upon hours of traffic to go work for these kind of people. I mean, what was I doing it all for?
I got the car I wanted, or thought I wanted. I had a nice bachelor pad. Had a fine girl. But I didn’t love any of those things. And I began to see the numbers 11:11 all the time. To where it just wasn’t a coincidence. It’s like it was telling me something. I’m getting more emotionally detached. I’m starting to really understand what God meant by, not conforming to the ways of the world. It’s like I woke up out of my sleep. And it hit me when I realized that I have been conditioned. I had accomplished these worldly things, but was it apart of my purpose? I didn’t know. So I started to seek and search to find out who I am, and why I was put here on earth. And I’m seeing the numbers 11, 111 and 1111 more and more.
The more knowledge and wisdom I gained, the more I realized how programmed we are as a whole. It made me mad when learning about all the lies we have been taught. Which didn’t do anything but make it worse. That is when I channeled that frustration into something positive. I just didn’t know what. I was slowly becoming a loner and off to myself. I was just in a different space. I didn’t trust anybody to talk to. Or when I did, I went over their heads. I just wanted to go and be somewhere else. Everything just seemed so fake to me. Or maybe it was me, maybe I was just lost trying to find myself. And that is when I quit my job. I didn’t resign my lease. I didn’t try and fancy up my resume and send it everywhere on line, hoping another shady company called.
I began to seek who I am and why I was here. In order to do so, I needed to discover my roots and know my genetic makeup. What all is in my blood. The only thing I knew was that my mother was black and my father was a white. I was adopted by a white family who were good people. They brought me in and gave me the best life possible. I never needed for anything. I had routine dental and doctor checkups. I always had lunch money. I went to summer camps. They had money set aside for my college tuition. Everything was cool, but in doing so, I only saw sprinkles of people who looked like me. When I was a child, I was around black people, once I was adopted, I lived in a white community. There were a few blacks at the school. There were a hand full who lived in the neighborhood. After while I just learned to adjust.
The husband and wife were not able to have children of their own so they adopted me. I was the only child. They treated me as if I was their real child. Bless their hearts, I could tell they received a lot of slack for doing so. They didn’t care, they loved me. They put me in a good schooling system. Their thing was education. Education, education, and some more education. Pride yourself in doing great in school so I can get into a good college. As long as I was on that track, I had their support. Once I began to be in search of myself and ask questions is when the dis
connection started to take place. I know I disappointed them both. They worked so hard in trying to mold me into who they thought I should be. They didn’t understand why I would be tired of living in the rat race. They didn’t understand me saying that I wanted to find my true purpose in life. They thought I was on drugs once they found out I quit my job and moved out of my bachelor pad. They didn’t understand that none of the material things mattered to me. They believed I just threw everything away that I worked for. And I can’t blame them. But it was my life, and was ready to seek beyond the physical.
Once I knocked on the door of my black side. Learned more about my African roots and the history of black Americans is when my eyes began to open. Everything started to make more sense of why the world is the way that it is. This is when I start to understand the power melanin. The power of the seeds planted in the Willie Lynch letter. How generational curses of our ancestors of slaves are still in effect today. It led me to the hidden agenda’s in the criminal justice system, the educational system and the work force. Why Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wasn’t assassinated until after they planned to team up. It began to make sense of why leaders were either murdered or black balled. I learned about all the great inventions of blacks that were stolen and claimed by the oppressor. All these thoughts, questions, and ideas ran heavily on my mind once discovering truth.
The more I discovered, the more I was proud of the fact that I was half black. I wanted to do more to help. I wanted to be apart. I just had this feeling of passion come over me. I was treated fairly when growing up in these white communities, but it always felt like I was missing something. Maybe if it were to be more diverse, but it wasn’t. When I would run across a black man at the black hair products section in the store, some would call me their brother when they never met me before. Like I was one of them. That hit me, especially already feeling like an outcast. I knew there was more to it than the way black people were portrayed on television, history books, music, and the news. And I wanted to find out for myself. With that in mind, this is right around the time I started from scratch and moved away. I didn’t care what part of town it was in. I didn’t care how much money I would make at my next job, just as long it could keep me afloat. I didn’t care about status. The only thing I cared about was being consistently happy.
I Am Your Brother Page 8