The phone sounded like a chainsaw ripping into my skull as it vibrated on the
wooden end table near the couch. I found myself falling asleep on the couch more and
more. Even though the bedroom is just up the stairs I had this feeling that if I was
closer to the door when something happened to my father I would be able to get there
faster and possibly prevent it.
“Are you home?” asked Kiki’s voice.
“Yeah,” I said hoping she had come to her senses or better yet, lost them
completely.
“What’s going on?” I was going to follow Derich’s advice and just let things go. I
had visions of booty call running through my head.
“It’s Paris. She’s smashed up her BMW. It’s totaled.” She said bluntly.
“Is she all right?!?” I asked feeling the ice pump through my veins. My heart
jumped into my throat. It was a long time coming and I didn’t want it to end like this.
“She’s with me. She has a little burn from the airbag but …which house are you?”
“What?!?”
“Which house are you? I have her with me. She’s been trying to give me directions
but she keeps nodding. I don’t know where else I can go right now.” There was a hint of
desperation in her voice.
“You hit the fork, bang a left and look for the first brick house on the left. Turn
into the first driveway. Knock on the first door. Look she’s probably nodding because
of the meds.” I said sounding a little bit annoyed.
“The accident happened about a week ago. She’s been on a bender. It’s bad, really
bad.”
I thought back to the 6:30 phone call. Why didn’t the phone wake me up then like it
did this time? Whose car door was dinging in the back ground? How bad was she? I
hadn’t seen Paris in almost three months. Every time we did talk on the phone the
conversations were just a bit off.
I was worried but I did the same thing I did when my oldest brother was coming to my
house, I hid all of the credit cards and anything with an application; music club, DVD,
magazines, you name it. When my brother had his nasty bout with drugs a few years ago he
took little things like this from my Dad and opened some BS accounts so he could get
something to sell. He called it fast money. We are still getting calls from credit
companies attempting to collect on his debts.
I heard the little Honda pull into my driveway. I opened the front door and walked
back to the kitchen to boil water. I figured green tea would help purge her system.
“Hey,” said Kiki through the screen door.
“Come on in,” I said just loud enough for her to hear me. “I’m making tea.”
“I’m sorry to do this so early on a holiday but I didn’t know where else to go.”
“That’s fine. I didn’t have any plans for the day anyway. Where’s your girl?” I
said putting the teapot on the stove.
“She’s in the car. I need a hand getting her in the house.”
“It can’t be that bad,” I jested, tossing my hand in the air in dismissal. There
was a part of me that was in denial.
She was pulling the hood of her pink sweatshirt back as I got to the window. Her
once full hair was now matted and stringy. Here blue eyes were surrounded by red moats
of bloodshot. Her dry, blotchy, skin made her gaunt face look even thinner.
“Hey, baby,” she rattled with her newly husky voice. “You miss me?” She registered
my shock and started laughing. I normally love her laughter but today it sounded like a
chainsaw ripping into my skull.
That Beautiful Black Man
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