20 - Plans Change

     There is always a plan.  I was sick of renting cars.  I was sick of kissing
ass.  I decided that this was the day.  I was going to quit and move to NYC.
I couldn't take the politics of the job anymore.  I couldn't take the back-stabbing.
     New York City is where it's at, baby.  Who are you to treat me as a nobody
in this little piece of shit town?  If I'm going to be treated like a nobody I want
to at least be surrounded by nobodies who are still trying to be somebody.
     Here people were grabbing a pair of knee pads and some chap stick just to
get noticed.  There was a firm belief that you could only rise up as far as the
company wanted you to.
     My parents were older.  Their mobility wasn't quite what it used to be but
they would get along without me.  If they needed me I would be two and a half
hours away.  It was a quick train ride/bus ride from door to door.
     "You have a plan," I yelled at God on the drive home, "but plans change!  It's
my turn to decide what I want to do.  You hear me?!? My turn!  This is the new plan!"
     I marched into my parents house determined to tell them the new plan.  I was
going to be in New York City struggling.  I wasn't going to be able to help out as
much as I wanted but as soon as I got on my feet in the next year things would be
easier.
     My father was on the phone when I got home.  He hadn't quite been feeling himself
and finally went to see a doctor a few days before.  Today was results day.  I figured
I would lay out my plan on our way to pick up his prescription.
     "What's up?" I asked as he hung up the phone, excited to share my news.
     "I have cancer."  He said quietly.  I felt the air leave the room.  I had to
concentrate to keep my balance while the machines hammered my soul into the floor.
     "Plans change," whispered a voice from the air.  "Plans change."

That Beautiful Black Man