George Foster-Williams<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\nHere I am, sitting in front of Principal Karen again, getting one of her famous \u201cYou know better\u201d lectures. She\u2019s redder than usual. I must have did it now.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat am I going to do with you, Gregory?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou tell me, Principal Karen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not a bad student by a long shot, you\u2019re one of the top students in the whole 7th<\/sup> grade, you join organizations, why are you \u2013 \u201c<\/p>\nBlah, blah, blah, blah, blah.<\/em><\/p>\nThis is the usual. She\u2019s always on my case.<\/p>\n
Anyway, I only get caught 50% of the time. Nothing really happens: a call home, an ass whoopin\u2019, a \u201cDon\u2019t do this again\u201d from Mama. Same old, same old, if you ask me. I mean it\u2019s hard keeping up with sixteen different kids as a parent. In my eyes, being the baby, well second to last, is a plus. Give my \u201cI\u2019m sorry mama,\u201d with my puppy dog eyes, and I get the world handed to me. Some say I\u2019m spoiled.<\/p>\n
I am actually. I get all what I want, even if I don\u2019t ask for it. But school is my downfall. I get bored waiting on everyone else getting done with their assignments long after me. So of course I\u2019m going to entertain myself, by any means necessary. That\u2019s where trouble comes.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou fighting that boy was unnecessary.\u201d<\/p>\n
Blah, blah, blah, blah. <\/em>Huh? I almost forgot the reason I\u2019m in here in the first place. Aha: that fight with Christopher Cox. He\u2019s like 5\u20192\u201d. All talk no action. His mouth runs rivers buddy, I tell ya. His skinny ass been picking with me since my 6th<\/sup> grade year, and every time I try to fight him, my friends or his friends stop me. It never fails. This time I got him in front of everybody. Right before the bell rang I left class early.<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cMr. Kane can I go to the rest room?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can hold it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo I can\u2019t, I can\u2019t hold it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, take your stuff with you and go ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ha, I love it when I have my way, <\/em>I thought walking straight to Christopher\u2019s locker as Janitor Jones walked by.<\/p>\n\u201cNeed any assistance, Gregory?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sir. I need you to cut off my lock. I forgot my code.\u201d No, I didn\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cYou sure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
He cut it off, and I opened it<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, Mr. Jones.\u201d<\/p>\n
He walked off, and the minute he turned the corner, I trashed Christopher\u2019s locker. I threw his books and folders down the hall, his pencils and paper raining. Before I knew it, his locker was empty. I walked to the camera and said, \u201cThat\u2019s right I did it.\u201d Then the bell rang and it was show time.<\/p>\n
Murmurs of \u201cOh, shit\u201d <\/em>and \u201cIt\u2019s about to go down\u201d was all you heard when students flooded the hallway. Christopher walked to his locker, and I watched the reaction on his face when he realized it was his shit that was all over the place: Aha, priceless.<\/em> I should\u2019ve provided him with a trashcan \u2018cause his face surely did break. He looked around, towards my way.<\/p>\nYes buddy, come on, find me. <\/em><\/p>\nA couple of seconds later, we made eye contact. He ran track alright because he ran up on me faster than I expected. It was cool though, \u2018cause I\u2019m always ready.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho did it? Did you do this?\u201d Christopher said, tryna get loud and make his voice deep like I\u2019m supposed to be scared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did,\u201d I said. I raised my hand like he was a teacher asking me a question, and I knew the answer. I turned and started laughing<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t expecting the massive blow to my right jaw as he threw the first lick. I stumbled a little bit and instead of running, I walked up on him. He backed up and threw yet another lick to my left jaw and before he could throw another one, my arms went into over drive as I started swinging. His 5\u20192\u201d had nothing on my 5\u20194\u201d, 200 pound frame. Everyone formed a circle as the fight went on. Not the teachers, nor the officers, could get through. I was on top of him just swinging, aiming at his face. He swung back but just kept missing. The fight ended as I banged his head against the locker. I got up, and the officers grabbed me, just as Chris got up like he wanted a round two. The officers escorted me to Principal Karen the 3rd<\/sup> time this week.\u00a0 All I heard was: <\/em>\u201cOh, Chris got his ass whipped\u201d and \u201cYou not only got done up, he walked up on you and whipped yo ass, bruh.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cWas it worth it, Mr. Wilson?\u201d Principal Karen asks me in the office.<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh?\u201d I always daydream whenever she speaks to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it worth it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep,\u201d I say with my \u201cI don\u2019t give a fuck\u201d look on my face.<\/p>\n
I really didn\u2019t. Why should I? I hate school. Just as I make my last comment she looks up and grins. I slowly turn around, and my stomach feels like it fell out my ass as I see my father walk through the hallway. Shit, <\/em>I say in my head, as I quickly turn around and melt in my chair, I should\u2019ve listened to one of those \u201cblahs.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\nNow here\u2019s my daddy, Vince \u201cShortDawg\u201d Wilson. His 5\u20192 muscular frame strides through the fore way. He\u2019s a natural breed hustler, definition of the term \u201cThug,\u201d protector of his own. \u201cShortDawg\u201d was his nickname because he was not to be underestimated by his size. He did what he had to do to provide for his family: whether it was flipping burgers, security at clubs, even selling dope or bootlegs, whatever means necessary. Papa is a rolling stone, alright. On his side I have thirteen brothers and sisters, I\u2019m still second to last.<\/p>\n
He has one eye, always wears a patch. I got teased about it last year: \u201cOh look it\u2019s Pirates of the Carribean<\/em> comin\u2019. Greg get yo daddy.\u201d Nevertheless, he was respectful, very loving and caring, but if you fucked with his family the wrong way it was either an ass whippin\u2019 or a bullet wound<\/p>\n\u201cMr. Wilson, come on in and join us,\u201d Principal Karen says.<\/p>\n
He sits directly beside me. When she starts explaining what I did, I can\u2019t do anything but keep my head down. I notice Papa\u2019s eyes are blood shot red. Dammit, He\u2019s salty.<\/em> When she finally finishes, Principal Karen says, \u201cI\u2019ll leave you two alone.\u201d<\/p>\nShe leaves and the room grows silent, so quiet you can hear my sweat drip from my forehead to the ground.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at me.\u201d That Germantown Memphis accent coming out<\/p>\n
I do as I\u2019m told<\/p>\n
\u201cHow can I leave here knowing you\u2019re doing this bullshit? Fighting in school man? How will you be able to take care of your family? Your sisters? Your mother? Making decisions like this? I\u2019m very disappointed in you. I expect better from you dude. You can do better than this. Man, you lucky I\u2019m tired because I would whoop your ass right now, but I\u2019m going to let your mama do it for me, so go on back to class. I\u2019ll be checking in on you.\u201d<\/p>\n
We leave out the room together, and he goes out the fore way. And just as I\u2019m about to leave the office, something tells me to turn around. As I turn and look, my father and I make eye contact. For a long time we stare into each other\u2019s eyes. I want to run and hug him, tell him I\u2019m sorry and I love him. Instead I turn around and leave. Funny what being mad makes you do<\/p>\n
I leave the office upset. \u201cDisappointed,\u201d he said. I don\u2019t care if you\u2019re mad, sad, or anything else at me, but to be disappointed hurts me to the core.<\/p>\n
Later that evening Mama picks me up. As we pull out of John Early\u2019s<\/em> parking lot, she doesn\u2019t say a word to me the whole ride to the house. When we arrive home, she parks the car, and we sit there for a couple of seconds in silence. I already know what\u2019s up when she says, \u201cGet in the shower and when you\u2019re done, get out and bend over on the couch.\u201d<\/p>\nI do as I\u2019m told. Usually whoopings don\u2019t really faze me. Sometimes I even laugh. But this time is different. When I say she whips my ass that night, I mean it was hard to sit down.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo put some clothes on and start dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat you say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n
She gets on the phone, and I can hear her bragging to my daddy.<\/p>\n
\u201cVince, I told you I wasn\u2019t no punk. I whipped his ass.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you didn\u2019t. Put him on the phone then,\u201d he probably says.<\/p>\n
\u201cGreg!!!! Come get this phone!!\u201d she yells.<\/p>\n
I walk in still shook up. \u201cHello,\u201d I say as my voice trembles.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh yeah, she gotcha alright. Well, we\u2019re going to Memphis this weekend, so your grandmother can talk some sense into ya boy, you hear me?<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow put your mama back on the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
I give her the phone and go into the kitchen to finish. \u201cI told you\u201d I hear her say, as I leave the room.<\/p>\n
Ten minutes later, Mama comes and joins me. It doesn\u2019t matter what it is, me and Mama go back to being close, laughing, the works. The smell in that kitchen is beautiful. Hues of turnip green, corn bread, fried chicken and more. Well, in the midst of us getting dinner ready there\u2019s a beating at the door, like the police.<\/p>\n
\u201cStay here baby, and finish this for Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opens the door, and Grandmama runs in screaming. She lives two doors down. And usually, if something is up she\u2019ll call us, but for her to actually walk over, something serious had to be up.<\/p>\n
\u201cVince just died!\u201d<\/p>\n
I leave the kitchen to see what\u2019s going on. I must have heard her wrong, \u2018cause she couldn\u2019t have said what I think she said.<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cWhat? He can\u2019t be I just got off the phone with him no longer than 30 minutes ago,\u201d Mama says as I walk in.<\/p>\n
Grandmama gives Mama the cell phone so she can talk to my stepmom. Tears fall in her eyes, as she looks at me and just keeps repeating, \u201cI\u2019m sorry\u201d over and over again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? No\u2026\u201d is all I can say, as a waterfall of tears fall from my eyelids. A rush of my family fills my two bedroom duplex within minutes, hugging and holding me, trying to make me feel better. It\u2019s no use. I let out a scream that stuns everyone. I run and throw everything around the room. I go to run out the door and my Uncle Garfield grabs me and holds me, I could really relate to him because he\u2019s gay and I am, too. Neighbors come outside to see what\u2019s going on, but before their nosey asses can ask questions he brings me back into the house. He shuts the door, and my Aunt Joana hugs me. We all get ourselves together enough to load up in our cars and head to Vanderbilt.<\/p>\n
When we arrive at the hospital my brothers and sisters, aunts, cousins and uncles, and my grandparents sit quietly with tears in their eyes, while my stepmother gets up and hugs me tight. I can feel the heavy tears hit my shoulder. I understand why she\u2019s crying. I am his spitting image.<\/p>\n
The doctors walk in and hesitate. I\u2019m sure seeing a room piled with black people isn\u2019t what they expected. Finally, they let us see him, but I can\u2019t because I\u2019m not old enough. No, I never got a chance to say goodbye, now I can\u2019t see him? <\/em> I start screaming and everyone tries to calm me down. I knock the pictures off the walls; I hit family members and all.<\/p>\nSo my auntie LeAnn takes me outside and holds me. Then we go home, and I look into the mirror on my wall. Though it\u2019s just me, I swear I can see my daddy.<\/p>\n
So I tell him sorry.
\n
\n<\/code>
\nCheck out more Community content here<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Lost Love by\u00a0George Foster-Williams Here I am, sitting in front of Principal Karen again, getting one of her famous \u201cYou know better\u201d lectures. She\u2019s redder than usual. I must have did it now. \u201cWhat am I going to do with you, Gregory?\u201d \u201cYou tell me, Principal Karen.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re not a bad student by a long […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[2,16],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-1Ip","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6597"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6597"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6597\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6597"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6597"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6597"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}