Remember

I remember when my siblings and I were on the verge of being separated from our: dysfunctional, drug addicts, emotionally detached, and poverish family. I recall my twin and I being 8 years old, long nappy hair, disheveled clothing, and smelling like a mixture of piss and power, our sperm donor told us to meet him around the corner at the hangout spot called “Rouzzards Corner”. Just like it sounds, drug addicts, hustlers, working on the squeaky racial porch, seats in cars, dirty dusty budgets: crates or Haningena infested light pole. Men and women and crazed animals took their prospective places. They were always drinking alcohol, playing cards, shooting dice, and cramp talking going on. Let’s not forget the “oh that’s my jam” on the radio, while the men and women would stand up and attempt at a unsynchronized dance routine or a too not for TV type motion. Everyone in a while well known hood children will stop momentarily to speak their peace or hold out a hand waiting on a handout. We already knew it was payday, welfare checks came out, and somebody was willing to come out of pocket to have one of us run an errand. My twin and I be the first ones to take charge. Sperm donor, fake aunts; uncles and hustlers give us our wages and we be gone in the wind feeling a step higher than reality.

I forget that adults were adolescence, too, coming from a lads perspective, they’re made out to be super heroes, role models, know it alls and take on important roles. What was never mentioned was, they are humans, too. They make mistakes – some minor, some major. They don’t know everything because some things they’ll never be able to comprehend. As a kid, everything is practically animated by wild imaginations. I remember vividly the beast in my granny’s eyes when she beheld the $50.00 bill our sperm donor gave me several hours ago. The hunger to satisfy her urge and crave would go as far to manipulate me to hide my money in a corner so it could be safe. Safe from whom? Little did I know this game of hide and seek would never satisfy young, poor, unfortunate me. I hide my prized possession just for her to seek and find. I was hurt because I knew that my siblings and I would be hungry another day and night. No saving money to buy us food to eat, soap to bathe and junk food. My granny had the nerves to even help me look for my prized possession. Get the hell out of here, sperm donor warned me to put it up and don’t let nobody know I got that much money. But no, I had to be admiring my first crisp $50 bill in ur shabby, ran down, dark filled, filthy house. She stood feet away peering through the crack of a door. Admiring my money just as I did, all the while knowing. She could speak words as sweet as honey as smooth as silk out of her mouth to manipulate me. I want to forget she set me up to satisfy her hunger for crack cocaine that made her mentally insane. No shame No game.

-Gulley