Nice Guys Don't Finish Last (12 page)

"Nic," I tried to whisper, but the words barely escaped my mouth. "Nico, Nico," I whispered but he remained asleep. "NICOLAS", I yelled and it hurt my throat. But he eventually woke rose from the dead.

"Abdul, oh my God! Are you alright? Do you need anything, are you cool, are you good," he sped his phrases together like a Nascar relay.

"For five days, I've been sitting here the entire time waiting for you to awake," he smiled.
"Why aren't you at the studio? You know Roger would kill you," I whispered.
"Roger---uuhhh,” his eyes watered.
"Roger what," I whispered.
"He died in a car accident the same night you were shot," he cried smothering his face in the palms of his hands. Death is a constant entity in my life and it never fails hit rock bottom.
"Baby, I am so sorry to hear that. I know how important he is to you, and I know that death is one of the hardest things for you to deal with."
"Yeah, but his wife really helped me see that everything will be alright. She even helped me pray that you will make it, and thank God you're talking to me right now," he said as he wiped his tears from his face.
"Wow, how did she get you to do that? No one can get you to pray," I asked.
"I know! And it shows that He is real," he said.
"Of course He is; I've always told you that."
"We have to get you out of this hospital, I was so scared. I still am, do you remember anything that happened," he asked scooting his chair over to the bed to rub my head.
"I remember bits & pieces, the image of the cashier getting his head blown off by a robber is vibrant," I said.
"Oh my God, that is horrible," his eyes lit. "Do you remember anything after that?"
"No, I really don't. I think I may have tried to fight one of the guys, and he shot me."
"Well, everything is still unclear to us. But the guys got away, I believe."
"Hmmm, those bastards!"
"Well, good thing you are still alive," he said kissing me on my forehead, as I internally thanked God for answering my prayers & revealing a softer side to Nico. His eyes were spacy, and his fragile body appeared even smaller than usual maybe from worry. If I have to get shot for him to love me more, then I would do this again?
"Can I come in," a doctor knocked on the door.
"Of course, you can," I said.
"So it's great to see you are up, we weren't sure if you would recover quickly. How are you feeling," he asked.
"I'm okay, but I can't feel parts of my body," I said.
"Is it okay if we talked in private please," the doctor asked Nico.
"Of course not, go ahead and talk. I'm about to go to the vending machine, do you want anything," Nico asked.
"Yeah, can you get me a granola bar & bottled water please. And try to get my phone from someone who may have my belongings, if it still works," I laughed in a whisper.
"Okay," Nico said closing the door.
"Mr. Monroe, the bullet hit a serious nerve in your chest that we seriously question," the doctor said.
"What do you mean seriously question," I asked.
"We don't think you will be able to function properly and you may have to stay in the hospital for a while," he said.
"Why,” I asked.
"Because the bullet hit a main artery & your lungs collapsed."
"So what does that mean?”
“It means you may never walk again.”
“What? Like is there any physical therapy to help me walk," I asked.
"It is possible, but no guarantee since there is no feeling in your right side. But with progress, who knows what could happen. Don't quote me though, because I don't want you to have hope for something that can't be fixed."
"Oh, it will be fixed. Believe me, it will," I insisted.

The
vending machine stared at me, while I gazed around like a little girl in Toys-r-Us for the first time. My mind was flustered with many thoughts that I couldn't even decide if I wanted a honey bun versus a butterscotch krimpet. Butterscotch krimpets were Roger’s favorite, and I could not wrap my head around the fact that he was gone.

Roger is undoubtedly in Heaven gazing downstairs shouting "Nico, I want you to kill this industry and remain humble". But I am absent-minded without him. He pushed me into this business, assisted with exposure on the stage, abetted back-up gigs for Maxwell & Ledisi, and believed in my songwriting skills when others doubted me.

Who is going to be that person to drive me when I have writer's block? Who's going to help me reach that note I psyched myself & thought I couldn't hit? Who else is going to be that father figure in my life? Who is going to be all of these things?

"Excuse me, bro... are you getting something from the machine because I'm trynna get something for my girl," a bald head slim guy wearing a five extra-large Enyce shirt said. What was worse between him interrupting my interpersonal thoughts or the brown decay on his two front teeth!

"Naw, go ahead. I don't know what I want anyway," I said blowing animosity in the air.
"Good lookin' out, man," he said. After he vacated, I purchased a Nature Valley granola bar & Deer Park water. The front desk was approximately three feet away from the vending machine, which made the search for his belongings less demanding.
I walked towards the desk as a white obese woman ahead of me signed her name on the pad, after failed attempts of speaking to the unprofessional nurse sitting before us. She had the audacity to have a personal phone call, while clients stood in front of her.
“Is there something you need help with,” the nursed asked the woman while cupping the office phone with her hand.
“Yes, I am Mrs. Williamson, and my husband Thomas Williamson just passed,” the woman cried.
“Okay,” the nurse answered irritably.
“And I need to pick up his things,” she responded with snot bubbles gyrating down her nose.
“Well I need you to sign your name on this sheet, ma’am,” the nurse snapped.
“She already did that! If you were not on the phone the entire time, then you would know that,” I yelled.
“Well, I had to find a babysitter for my two kids sir. Is there anything I can help you with,” she said.
“Yes, help this kind lady first,” I said undermining the fire boiling in my chest.
“Thank you,” the woman whispered to me as I smiled.
“No problem.”
Ten minutes had past, and the nurse sat in the chair without assisting me after helping the lady.
"Excuse me, excuse me," I yelled.
"Hold on, girl,” she whispered on the phone. How can I help you," the nurse said slamming the phone down.
“I’ve been standing here for almost fifteen minutes, and you have yet to help me.”
“I’m sorry, what’s the patient’s name,” she asked nonchalantly.
"Abdul Monroe."
"And who are you," the nurse asked.
"I'm his friend, why does it matter! Is there a paper I need to sign to retreive it?"
"Just sign here please," she said popping her gum in the air and rolling her neck, I was ready to leap over that desk and rip her tongue out of her mouth.
I signed the form written in two columns, as she handed me a bag with Abdul's cell phone, wallet, watch & necklace. The phone’s screen had a crack on it with specs of blood presumably from the incident. I turned Blackberry on awaiting the downloading process, and an icon popped up displaying fifty missed calls, and twenty text messages. But realized I called him 45 out of those 50 times. Most of the text messages were from me, as well until I noticed a message saying:

"
Abdul, I can't wait for you to come with us Iraq. We have so much catching up to do, man. Keep me posted on everything going on."

A gasp emerged as thoughts of him in Iraq disgruntled my mood. Why did he retain this away from me? I am aware that the physical state Abdul is in has hindered any chance of going to Iraq, but dammit.

Embarrassment
followed after sex with Deandre, I felt in control of my first intercourse experience, and look what happens. Ty says bottoms must always "clean" themselves before having sex, but I didn’t want him to know I was a virgin so I never asked what he meant. I thought I could handle a little ding ding without any fluid malfunctions. Boy was I wrong!

I could tell Deandre was frustrated because he constantly mumbled "What the fuck, man". Now, I am going to be identified as the boy who dropped a load while riding it.

Flabbergasted about it all, I did not even want to go to school. Abdul's punk ass never hit me back, and I guess Jeremy was finished with me. Can someone pass me a shovel & bury me in an Alexander McQueen coffin, as soon as possible?

"Delmar, a lady from your school just called and said a guy named Roger died last night. Who is that," my mother asked busting through my door.

"Roger died?" I asked in disbelief. “He was the producer of the song I’ve been working on.”
"According to the woman on the phone, your studio session is canceled for the week,” she said as I sat there thinking about meeting him a few days ago and laughing with him yesterday. I expressed to my mother how nice Roger was, and that it felt like I knew him for ages.
Later on that day, Ty & I went to Towson Mall in pursuit of outfits for our friend Corey’s birthday dinner. The temperature was oddly seventy-six degrees, and the attractive boys were
everywhere
. We had to remain focus because we both had the tendency to be in a mall for over two hours, and leave emptyhanded.
“Chile, I wish I would pay forty girls for this shirt…
‘she’
ain’t even worth it,” Ty said.
“Yeah, I don’t like it. Put it back on the shelf where it belongs,” I laughed as I threw the shirt on the floor.
“This is the reason why I never come to the ‘Gap’, their clothes are overpriced and they shrink after you wash it. The only thing they good for is their underwear,” he said. “You right. Because my ‘cakes’ look good in their briefs, if I had a man he would lose his mind.”
“Speaking of men, how did things go with Deandre last night,” he asked.
“Ugh, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“What’s wrong, was it whack?”
“Naw, it was good. It was great actually, but I had a little incident and I would rather not talk about it,” I insisted looking through the female’s side of the store, and placed on on a peach cardigan perfect for the event!
“A little incident? Did you poop on yourself or something,” he laughed, while I strained to avoid any eye contact with him. “Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Ohhhh, bitch! Now what did I tell you? You young ‘girls’ have to learn how to fleet,” he laughed hysterically.
“Can you lower your voice? I’m sure everyone in here can hear what you are saying,” I whispered gazing at the mirror. “Mar, how did you allow something like that to happen though? You know much better than that.”
“I mean, shit happens---.”
“No pun intended,” he laughed as I walked away because I knew he would tease me for it. “Delmar, come back. I am just playing! I think it happens to the best of us, of course not me. However, I know many people who did it.”
“Okay, next subject--- do you think I should buy this cardigan,” I asked while Ty rotated my body around to see the sweater front to back, and checked the price!
“No shade, but I don’t think the garment is worth fifty dollars. It’s a lot more you can do with fifty coins.”
“So what do you suggest I do,” I asked waiting for a quick response.
“Give it to me,” he whispered as he looked around the store to see if any sales associates or cameras were around. He then, slipped the cardigan into my Louis Vuitton bag and grabbed the same colored cardigan from the shelf.
“Ty, what the hell are you doing,” I asked.
“Shut up and follow me to the fitting room area,” he said as I immediately wanted to run outside of the store. I didn’t want the shirt enough to steal, what if we get caught? It is not worth it. “You just have one item,” the sale associate asked while Ty shook his head yes and was assigned a room. I had no idea how he was going to get away with this but I was not interested in knowing either.
“Do you think this fits me,” Ty asked opening the door to show me, while I remained silent. At this point, I contemplated suicide & searched for someone to bury me in my casket. He took three minutes to derive from the room, and my hands began to shake nervously. He finally came out!
“Did everything fit you well,” the sale associate asked. “Oh no, girl. It was extremely too small, but thanks for asking,” he responded with an inviting smile. “You ready, Mar,” he asked.
“Yes, I been ready,” I answered.
We walked away from the fitting room, and suddenly the store rained with clouds. It felt like we were being watched and my heart pound hardly before we reached the exit, I envisioned the alarm thunder aloud---- but it didn’t.
“I thought you were going to steal the cardigan, I am so happy you didn’t,” I sighed.
“Bitch, I did. What did you think I put one in the bag for? It was to make her believe I only brought one item back there,” he said like it was nothing to it.
“Oh my God, what did you do with the censor,” I asked. “I cut it off, and put it underneath the rug. So now it has a little hole in it, but I can stitch it up when we get back to my place,” he said.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t want it that bad Ty.”
“You didn’t? I mean, I could always wear it myself. Our body types are similar anyways,” he insisted.
“No, I will wear it.”

I
spent half of the day thinking about the news the doctor revealed to me. Who can stomach the fact they may never walk again? I am a fighter; therefore, I will prove the doctors wrong & walk again. Every battle fought, I have never given up and won. Drama has followed me during for as long as I can remember, but I have not allowed for any of those things to defeat me. Whether it is death, love, war, hate, or a disease; I walk away with bruises unbothered by the events. Therefore, a damaged nerve will not hinder me from walking.

Funny how we take things for granted, who would have known I would be paralyzed from the waist down? Frequently, many people take materialistic possessions for granted like a car, a house or a lover… but the ability to walk? I never thought in a million years that would be taken away from me.