RIPPED & READY (S4/PART 6)
RIPPED & READY S4/VI
Life is a never-ending collection of situations and frustrations that are intertwined, and purposely trying to draw out every bit of air from my overworked lungs. As I sat beside D’Andre, mentally numbed by mother’s condition, I stared at the road ahead in silence, consumed with uncertainty. I hoped that the brush with death she avoided the first time would be repeated and have the same outcome, because I couldn’t fathom the alternative one leaving me any other place than in the watery depths of despair without a life-preserver to rescue me. I know I would fall hard and not be able to get up without the aid of some serious clinical therapy if she succumbed this time.
A mother’s love is one powered by the divine kiss of God, it is tender and sweet, and its embrace is warm, caring and kind. Unyielding is the concern and support of her glowing spirit, it is a joy that I have yet to experience outside the realm of her maternal being, she is everything to me in this world, losing her would be like losing an arm or a leg. The wonderful relationship between her and I has been consistently rich with very little disruption, so you can imagine the detriment losing her would bring to my life. Whenever I hear the sound of her voice, or the colorful chuckle of her laughter I am filled with love. She is my mother and I am her son, and without her then what would I be?
A shell of who I am now.
I’d be broken beyond recognition.
My vital organs would shut down and I wouldn’t be able to breathe without assistance.
Opening my eyes would feel like a chore.
Rising and being productive would miss one another intentionally.
The grief would be overwhelming.
I am her son and she is my mother.
All of my thoughts were infected with what if and how am I going to make it.
Even though the drive to the hospital only took fifteen minutes, it seemed as though it were taking hours, and whenever the car hit a bump in the road my heart skipped multiple beats. Everything was getting on my nerves; the rattle from the dashboard that was missing a screw on the passenger side; the yellow lights that turned to red and made us stop periodically; Collin’s knees rubbing up against the back of my seat as he shifted positions repeatedly to adjust his legs which were probably cramping from the lack of leg room – even D’Andre’s light humming to the song currently on the radio was annoying me to no end.
I wanted to pull out my hair.
I felt like screaming in a deafening shriek.
I knew that both of my boys could sense how tense I was, but I didn’t want to hear a damn thing that they had to say. I hated it when people tried to comfort me using cliché’s like: It’s going to be okay, or be strong for her, or you’re not doing her any good by getting upset, or the biggest one of them all: I’m here for you, okay…
Take your “got-dayum” arms from around me and shut the hell up.
I was beyond basket case status at the moment and when we had to stop at that last light before being able to turn into the hospital emergency parking lot I unraveled.
“HOW MANY OF THESE MUTHAFUCKAS ARE WE GOING TO CATCH? FUCK!” I yelled, slamming my fist down onto the dashboard in front of me.
D’Andre nervously jumped from my sudden outburst.
“Dude, you need to mellow out,” He said, looking over at me like I had lost my “got-dayum” mind.
“RUN THE MUTHFUCKA!” I demanded.
Collin placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back into the seat.
“COLLIN, TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!” I said, agitated by his touch.
“Marco, you need to control yourself, nigga, what the fuck do you want me to do, get a ticket? Now sit your ass back and act like a man,” He said, clearly shaken up.
Of all the things he could say, why did he have to say act like a man?
I was so sick of niggas questioning my masculinity.
Just because I wasn’t eyeing every woman’s ass in a pair of tight jeans, or ogling her “tid-days” with my eyes, or feeding a female some stale ass weak line I wasn’t a man. Well, if he wanted to go there this day, today, I was certainly going to meet him at center court with all the rage surging in me. I was sick of these down low fuckers and their snide remarks, and I was so glad that Collin didn’t tack onto what D’Andre had just said, because if he did, it would be hell on the cross this morning.
“D, you always got to say shit like that don’t you? I’m sick of you questioning my manliness…pull this fucking car over right now!” I said, hitting him in the arm with full force.
He leaned toward the door, ducking like I was about to hit him.
Bitch ass nigga!
“Marco, you need to chill the fuck out… what the hell has gotten into you?” He asked, looking at me with a perplexed expression on his face.
“You’ve gotten into me, that’s what… you and every shady asshole I’ve ever dealt with… I am a man, regardless of my sexuality and I’m sick of hearing that bullshit, that’s what’s gotten into me, D’Andre Washington… yeah, that’s what’s gotten into me,” I said, gritting my teeth and grabbing for the door handle.
“COLLIN! GRAB THIS FOOL BEFORE HE OPENS THE DOOR AND FALLS HIS FAT ASS OUT!” D’Andre said, with the final blow that sent me over the edge.
“Come on now, Marco, baby, mellow out…” Collin said, restraining me and pulling back into the seat.
“LET GO OF ME, COLLIN… LET ME GO…!” I said, frantically repeating my request.
Did he listen?
“Marco, I’m going to knock you the fuck out you if you don’t calm your crazy ass down and stop acting like an idiot,” Collin said, in an effort to get me to listen to reason.
“NO!” I said, as I tried repeatedly to lean forward away from him.
Just when things had reached the boiling point, D’Andre pulled into the emergency parking lot, and it couldn’t have happened any quicker. Before he had a chance to put the car in park, I jumped out the car. Both D and Collin jumped out immediately after I did and once D made it around to the side of the car I was standing on, both of them grabbed me in their embrace and cradled me like I was a child.
“Brotha, you’ve got to hold it together,” Collin said with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere, buddy,” D’Andre said, squeezing Collin tighter which, in turn, squeezed me tighter.
“I cannot lose her, y’all, I cannot lose her,” I repeated, sobbing into Collin’s ripped & ready chest.
“D’Andre, I got him, lock the car up and let’s get him inside,” Collin said to D’Andre.
“Alright, dude, I got it,” He said, retrieving his wallet off the dashboard before closing the car and hitting the electronic switch on the key ring.
“Falling apart isn’t going to make it any better, baby,” Collin said, cradling me against his strong pectoral muscle, the one tatted with M6.
Lying against his chest resurrected a flash back of our erotic experience together.
I wished we were there now…
Author G. D. Grace reserves all rights and reproduction without written permission is not permitted. If found, legal action will be taken against the person(s) or company(s) that have cut or pasted (Plagiarized) any portion of this written document. Author, G. D. Grace; Published © 2010 December