Nice Guys Don't Finish Last (14 page)

“Would you die for America, you FUCKING FAGGOT,” he yelled pulling the trigger as I realized it was a dream. The scent of urine possessed my nose; and noticed piss dwindling intricately between my legs. The doctors insisted I should take prescription medication for the reoccurring nightmares. Life in the marines, prepared me for traumatic sights, but the robbery surpassed ‘em all. The dreams are feat worst by the day.

I buzzed a nurse five times, and it appeared all of them were unhelpful slackers who communicate on the telephone all day, and pout when it’s time to work. What they gon‘ do when I flat-line & die, oh I forgot… NOTHING! In the economy, a struggle exists to find jobs & shit because of the recession, yet these lazy black folks don’t wanna do anything but bitch & moan about their jobs.

In ATL, everyone compromised and stuck together. We had to work hard to earn a place in a top position, or else we were going to be drug dealers or homeless. People in B-more, don’t know how blessed they are.

“Hey sweetie, did you buzz us,” a dark skin heavyset nurse asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to know if I could get another cup of ice, please,” I asked.
“Of course you can, did you sleep well?”
“No, not at all. I had another nightmare; I’m going to ask the doctor for some medication. What does that mean,” I asked the nurse as she checked my vital signs.
“Well, it may be post-traumatic stress,” she held my wrist to check my pulse. She was the only nurse around who appeared to love her job. We conversed for a few minutes, before exchanging names, and informed me to buzz her if I needed her. Rhonda also expressed how she despised her coworkers, for the exact same reason I couldn’t.
“Do you have a girlfriend,” she asked.
“No, I have a boyfriend.”
“Well, it’s nothing wrong with that homosexual love. But damn, why is it always the fine ones,” she laughed.
“That’s not true. They’re ugly ones too, don’t sleep on them,” I laughed.
“Well, Abdul. I am going to get you a cup of water, and I will talk to your doctor about possibly prescribing a medication. But he will most likely say you must visit a therapist or specialist for that type of treatment.”
“Well whatever he can do, I want it,” I said as she walked out of the door. I wondered how Roger’s funeral in New York progressed, I sought to be there. Roger’s wife begged Nico to sing Karen Carpenter’s “They Long to Be (Close To You)”, which is a struggle for him. I know he will pull through, but I desired to be by his side to support him.
Man, I have to get out of this hospital. I feel like a slave with shackles on my feet, the feeling is unbearable.
“Abdul, you have a visitor,” Ms. Rhonda stood in the doorway next to an invisible guest. I was confused because Nico is able to walk right in, and I don’t really have many friends.
Then I saw a hand knock on the door behind the nurse.
“Hey stranger,” David stood in the doorway next to Rhonda.

My
knees buckled together, and stomach dropped to my feet as I stood on a platform ascending over Roger’s body. I have never been so obstructed to sing, not even when I performed my first solo in the second grade to John Lennon’s “Imagine”. But it was not the singing that affected me; it was the purpose & person I had to sing for that made this event so intense.

Tony, Roger’s piano man, played the first chords and it felt like I swallowed a bug. The first phrase would not come out as I stood in front of Roger’s family & famous industry friends. No one told me Mick Jagger would be in the house. How the hell do you convince the front-man of the “Rolling Stones” to a funeral? In New York, anything goes!

I gave a cue with my eyes for Tony to replay the chord. We did many arrangements of the song the night before that I forgot which plan we chose.

The chords began, and the melody was slower than its original version. But it was show-time!
“Why do birds suddenly appear, Every time you are near, Just like me, they long to be, Close to you,” I sung slowly catching my breath, and looked at Ms. Bridget embracing her daughter’s hand while she cried .
“On the day you were born, the angels got together… and decided to create a dream come true,” I crooned as my eyes shifted to Roger’s body lying in the casket and I lived every word sung. Funerals were never my niche because it forces you to perceive death in another way & the tears from others made me overly emotional. But the approval in Ms. Bridget’s eyes provided me the strength I needed.
“Of golden STARLIGHT in your eyes of blue,” I sung in falsetto causing the audience to cry harder with every crescendo note each tear fell. A spirit yield over my back & guided me like an imperfect angel. The emotions I tried to hold back, finally collapsed & poured on stage. I struggled to sing the last phrase--- as I caught Delmar laughing in the audience.
“Why? Close to you,” I finished the last phrase and was pleased with the outcome of the audience clapping and cheering. Now, when I find Delmar’s ass, I am going to rip the fur off his midget ass by the time I am through with him! He already had one strike from sending Abdul the text message; then had the audacity to laugh during my performance!
Subsequently after the funeral, everyone paid their respects to Ms. Bridget wearing an Estelle McCartney black suit & their grown kids in Emilio Pucci with hundreds of flowers & caged doves. As I approached the door in hopes of conversing with her, I spotted Delmar standing in the main lobby texting with his head buried in the phone. I ambled to him, and politely tapped his shoulder.

I
stood in the lobby as I witnessed many rock stars such as Rod Stewart, Mick Jagger & David Bowie leave outside the church, and it dawned on me this home-going service wasn’t a ‘typical’ funeral. Roger was affiliated tons of celebrities who earned solid places in the industry, and that meant a lot to me. If he helped pave the way for these guys behind-the-scenes, then I know he had power to abet me. What in the hell am I going to do now? Go back to Baltimore, and sing at the church as my parents always tell me.

I suddenly sensed a brush against my shoulder, and rotated my neck to realize Nico standing before me in a three piece suit, embodying a superstar.

“Excuse me, Delmar. Can I talk to you for a minute,” he said as we walked into a corner, in front of the men‘s restroom.
“Yes, Nico,” I smiled.
“How are you,” he asked.
“Never been better, I feel great surrounded by all of the celebrities. I can’t wait to achieve as much as Roger did, where I can say David Bowie came to my funeral,” I laughed as Nico grew slightly annoyed.
“Well, let’s not forget the funeral is about the celebration of someone’s life. In contrast to who showed up at the funeral, and while we’re on topic… learn how to be mature while others perform because it’s not easy singing at a home-going service for someone you cared about,” he flared his nose & preserved his voice to a minimum.
“Excuse me, what are you referring to,” I asked.
“Don’t play stupid, I saw you laughing during my performance displaying your lack of maturity & intelligence.”
“Lack of intelligence, you mother---,” I caught myself before cursing in the house of the Lord. I cannot believe he would confront me over bullshit, if he didn’t want me to laugh then he must hold shit together. Each funeral I sing at, I control my composure and hit the notes.
“Yes, lack of intelligence. One more thing, stay the fuck away from Abdul. I don’t know how well you two know each other, or if you have ever had sex together, but I’m warning you now, if you don’t stop texting & calling him… I am going to whip your ass. I put my life on Roger,” he whispered and gazed a whole into my eyes.
“Abdul & I only met once at the Hippo and we haven’t seen each other after that. You need to chill out with the threatening,” I said as I got in his face.
“Naw baby, this is a promise,” he reversed out of my face. “Well, if you two have not conversed more than one occasion, then there’s no reason to send him any more messages about your horniness.”
“First of all, I never knew he was in a relationship, and secondly, I will send him whatever the hell I want to send,” I whispered backing him into the corner.
“Yeah, you continue to be dumb if you want to. I’m going to tell you this one time, and one time only… stay the fuck away from him. Or else you will be laid in John Hopkins like his ass,” he whispered wickedly as every word pinched my skin.
I shared no rebuttals, the tension resonated through his voice & the rage in his eyes. I could tell he was one of those “Waiting to Exhale” fags who would set your property on fire, and not give two shits about it.

David
sat at the end of my bed with “Get Well Soon” balloons & cards. I was surprised he visited me, considering our friendship has been on the rocks for the past three years. The night I went to the Hippo with him, felt like old times. But I lost trust in David after he stabbed in me back when he borrowed money from me, and disappeared when he obligated to return the cash. He moved out of town, deleted me off of every existing social network & fabricated a story about me that made no sense at all. It was supposedly his excuse for cutting me off, but he really did it because he didn’t have the money to pay me back. I would have appreciated it if he told me that, opposed to beating around the bush & lying on me. I’m usually a “no grudge, life is too short” kinda guy, but I have to keep a close eye on him.

Nico told me he never trusted David from the first time he met him. But I think Nico didn’t trust the fact David & I were once in a relationship six months after I moved to Baltimore. The relationship was full of scandals, lies, a cocaine addiction & unhappy endings.

After witnessing my relationship with Nico, David tried his best to win my heart again. But I had gotten over him, who would be with someone who can’t even differentiate if your boyfriend is in the Air Force or Marines? He doesn’t even remember my birthday. It’s the small things that matter!

“I wanted to come see you sooner, but my work schedule been so busy. How have you been feeling, Abby,” David asked.

“Well, I am restricted to an uncomfortable bed & malfunctioned legs… so I’m doing great, bruh,” I said sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be a smart ass,” he laughed. “How are you,” I asked eating Jello.
“I’m good, there’s been a lot on my plate at this

moment.”
“Like what? It can’t get any worse than my situation.” “Just some medical issues, but everything’s going to be

fine.”
“Medical issues, like what?”
“So, when is Nico coming back? There’s something I

needed to give him.”
“Why are you changing the subject, David?” “Because my issues aren’t important, I’m here to see

you,” he said as I laid there & couldn’t figure out why he was jittery & standoffish.
“Okay, if you say so man.”
“Don’t give me that, what are the doctors saying about you,” he said licking his bubble gum pink lips, and squinted his bug shaped eyes.

We talked for countless of minutes about the incident & the good days of our defunct relationship. Then the attention shifted on the encounter I had with Delmar at the Hippo. David expressed how he thought I would wind up cheating on Nico again, but I ensured he understood my values & that I wouldn’t risk doing anything like that again. I also told him how Delmar was hired to sing Nico’s song, ironically, and Nico wasn’t aware that I knew Delmar until he checked my messages at the hospital.

“That’s crazy, I’m sure Nico was ready to fight after that,” he said.
“You know it, when he’s ready to fight he turns into someone else,” I said.
“He turns into one of those bangy queens, and doesn’t back down,” he laughed recalling a time that Nico got into a confrontation with a straight guy, while we were at Applebees on Route 40. The guy accused Nico of staring at him rigidly, and if he didn’t look away then he would beat the shit out of him. Nico being the ‘hard ass’ he portrays to be, insisted they should square up & fight one-on-one. At this point, I’m just being the ‘man’ telling him the dude wasn’t worth it and he needs to ignore him before I whip the guy’s ass. Before we could do anything, a piece of ice hit Nico in the forehead. Next thing you know, Nico flies across the table & hops on dude beating the shit out of him. Applebee’s had to get the police in there to calm him; luckily, he didn’t disregard any of the cop’s orders so he wasn’t arrested or anything. But dude’s face was disfigured by the time Nico was done.
“I have something to tell you though,” David lowered his head down, avoiding eye contact with me. His news couldn’t have been worse than a paralysis.
“Okay, I’m listening,” I said.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he laughed.
“What is it,” I asked smiling.
“I was diagnosed with H.I.V,” he laughed again & turned his head looking outside the door.
“Why are you laughing,” I asked confusedly.
“To restrain myself from crying, I just found out a few days ago,” he said.
“How did you get it?”
“I don’t know. The doctors said they believe it has been two months though.”
The room quickly shaded into an obscure cloud of remorse, and his news was indeed worse than my ailment.

Before
boarding my four o’ clock bus back to Baltimore, I decided to meet with, Deja at her favorite spot “Cornelia St. Cafe” on 29
^th
Cornelia Street. It’s been about eight months since we’ve seen each other, so it was past due.

“Hey baby,” she walked in the café like she acquired the seasons wrong wearing what seemed to be a halter top, but stunning as usual.

“Yes, give it to me, Harem pants & a nice pump,” I shouted in excitement.
“Do you like it? I look real cunt, right,” she twirled around her 20-inch long weave. She looked like a superstar walking in the café as everyone looked at her.
“Girl, I am in love with the look. You look like you are on the runway. Did a designer provide you the clothes or what?”
“You know it! I just did a shoot for the ‘Seventeen’ college girl collection & they allowed me to retain three outfits by Patricia Fields and this was one of them,” she grinned looking around the café with a glow I’ve never seen and her eyes were glued to her iPhone.
“Well, you look great. What’s going on, what’s new in your life,” I asked.
“Oh chile, I’m just on Twitter trying to see if someone sent me a direct message.”
“You and that darn Twitter! I deleted mine a month ago, it was too damn addictive,” I laughed.
“Yeah it is! Well anyways, I’ve been trying to maintain my drive. It’s so competitive in the modeling world, so I have to stay on my grind. Also, my friend gave me a little something,” she scratched her head with her fourth left finger and I noticed a ring.
“Deja, what in the hell? You’re getting married,” I yelled.
“Yes, my personal trainer Bobby proposed to me,” she excitedly yelled flinging her hair out of her face.
“But you never told me you were dating him.”
“Yes, I did. I would always state I had to get off the phone because I have a date with my trainer,” she insisted.
“I always thought you meant an exercising date, not an actual date.”
“Duh,” she laughed. “I am so happy though. We’ve been