Chapter 38 - Caretakers

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"Go to my place for a few minutes, Chan. You can shower and then come right back. I won't leave ya Mom." Trisha says standing by Ma's bedside. 

I look at Ma's emotionless face, she has been sleeping for two days now, and I've been here the whole time battling with my thoughts and different emotions. Battling with the fact that this shit is really my fault. 

The last news I got on Flex was that the bullets were out, but his stomach and the surrounding tissue gave even more problems. He was still fighting for his life. They put him up in ICU so they can monitor him. Dr. Ben says that the surgery might have been too much for his body and that there is a possibility of organ failure. But I try to keep my hopes as high as I can. 

"Come on, Chan. You gotta take a break from this place. Just for 2 hours. I can have Pookie come and take you then bring you back. Just so you have some comp-" 

"No." I say sharply. "I'll go by myself." 

She looks taken aback. Too surprised, like she didn't know why I was mad at him. Like he hasn't told her. 

"Do you not know what he did?" I ask glaring at her. They tell each other everything in the world, but he fails to tell her this. 

She looks at me and shakes her head innocently. Almost like a fragile child. 

"Hm. You should call and ask him." I respond. 

I gather my things and slide into my sweater and coat. I smelled fine but a shower would be nice and a toothbrush and mouthwash. 

"You can borrow some clothes from my closet. The towels and wash rags are in the bathroom cabinet and there's an extra toothbrush in my top drawer." She says quietly. She takes my seat next to Ma and slides her fingers through Ma's fingers. 

"Thanks, girl." I say politely. 

I walk up to Ma and kiss her on the forehead then on the cheek. 

"I'll be right back. If you're going to wake up, just hold on a second." I say firmly. 

I turn to Trisha who has zoned out on her phone, texting Pookie i'm guessing. 

"Call me if anything happens." I say quickly. I leave before Pookie tells her the dumb shit he's done. As I close the door behind me, I hear Trisha faintly. 

"Oh my God." I hear the pain through the doors anyway and walk away from the room faster. 

As I go down to the lobby, hospital security stops me. 

"Chanel, come wit us." They say reassuringly. 

I look past them to the main entrance and it seems that even more paparazzi and news channels are out there now than before. 

I follow the men in the security suits, they are both black and I wonder briefly why it is that the black men are securities and the white men are doctors. There are many black doctors but why don't I see more. We walk to a sketchy part of the hospital in the back. 

We pass multiple doors, go down stairs, then back up different stairs to an emergency exit. 

One of the guards enter a code to disarm the alarm and then he pushes the door open. I am at the very back of the hospital with a large fence keeping anyone from getting in. 

One guard stays at the emergency door and the other guard walks me to the door of the fence and opens that with a key. 

"Continue walking down this block right here, the 3 train is around the corner, or one of us can stay with you until you get a cab." He says lightly. 

I look at him, middle aged face, kind eyes and big lips with a mustache above them. 


"Thank you." I say softly. 

And then without warning, I fall to the floor in front of him and begin to cry. I cry and cry and cry. All the emotion continues to build up with not enough release it seems. But in this moment, I can see the kindness of his heart. He was probably ordered to escort me through the back but the honesty of him wanting to help sent me over the edge. 

He pulls me up and rubs my back and I attempt to wipe my tears away quickly. 

"I'm so sorry." I breath out, my words muffled. 

"You've been through a great deal, nothing to be sorry about." He assures. 

He turns to the other guard. "Call a cab back here for me, Jordan." He shouts back. 

I fan my eyes then cover my face. 

"Chanel, God doesn't give us more than we can handle. You won't see it this way now, but you will only be stronger after all this. Your music will be passionate and real, your everyday life will be more appreciated. You can get through all of this. I barely know you but I know Brownsville and that ain't no joke. You already stronger than anyone else in this business." He says. 

I nod as more tears run down my face. Who was this man, lifting me up while the world pulls me down? 

"Everything is going to be just fine. I believe that, I really do." He finishes. 

I turn into his arms and give him a hug. 

He hugs back and laughs like a grandpa.

"What's your name?" I ask through my strained voice. 

"My name is Jerral Smith." He pats my back. 

"I appreciated that Jerral." I say honestly. 

"Baby girl, I've been through hell and high water. Wasn't nothing God couldn't get me through." He comments looking into my eyes. I look up at him and know that he is a Father. He has to be. 

"The devil don't come for you when you not doin well. He comes when you start progressin. He comes when you start stirring up some success. But that's how you know that you doin something. That's how you know you goin somewhere." He continues to hug me and rock me side to side like a baby. 

It's soothing. 

Ma, Trev and Flex would kill me if they knew I was out here hugging random security guards but Jerral was different. 

I allow him to continue talkin. 

"You're stronger than you think, and you gon see that. Can't nobody bring down a beautiful and talented black woman. Y'all have been the death of me, if I'm being honest with ya." Jerral laughs. 


For the first time in a while, I laugh with him. 

Genuine laughter. 

He takes pride in it. 

"Y'all a whole bag of trouble, but that's a different talk for another day." He laughs again. 

"You been through it huh, Jerral?" I smile. 

"Oooo chile, I got stories for days." He smiles back. 

A grey car pulls up at the side of the hospital and the white pole lifts, allowing the car in. He pulls up close to Jerral and I and Jerral lets me go. I am suddenly aware of the warmth he was giving me, because when he lets go a chill runs through my body. 

He opens the cab door and then closes it when I get in. 

"You gotta tell me those stories later!" I say cheerfully. 

"I will child. I gotcha." He laughs. 

The cab driver is an old Haitian man, I can tell because his flag hangs from the top mirror. 

"Elo beautiful, where are you goin today?" He greets. 

I tell him Trisha's address and explain the whole famous thing to him. As he drives out of the hospital, I lay flat on the back seat so none of the paparazzi take notice. When we are a few blocks away, I get back up. 

He laughs. 

"We did it." He says successfully with his accent. 

Trisha's block is empty and Carmine opens the door on the first knock. 

"Chanel, I laid out the towels for you in the bathroom and there's some food in the microwave for you." He says somehow grumpy but kindhearted. 

"Thank you, Carmine." I say sincerely. Trisha must have called and told him I was coming. 

I head straight to the bathroom and turn on the water. 

I strip down to my naked body and step in. The hot water feels nice on my body. The steam rises and fogs up the small bathroom and begin to relax me. I hug myself and sway in the water, left to right. 

I hug and sway like Jerral was doing to me. 

I stay like that for several minutes before actually soaping up, then I hug and sway until the soap is off. My eyes closed and my breathing slow. 

I don't feel like crying anymore. Jerral has left me almost normal. 

I turn off the water and bury my face in the towel. It smells like laundry detergent. I brush my teeth and gargle the mouthwash. I lotion with Trisha's bath and body. I go into her room and find some jeans and a white v-neck, one of her newest looking underwear and I put my bra back on. 

I move as slow as a snail, noticing I desperately needed this time for myself. 

After I eat white rice, baked chicken and some steamed vegetables. Carmine cuts me a piece of sweet potato pie from the bakery on Rutland road. 

After eating, it sets in just how tired I am. 

My eyes struggle to stay open around the dining table. 

I hear footsteps and my eyes open wide.

Carmine stares at me. 

"Go take a nap." He almost demands. " I know you tired, you been at the hospital for days. Go take a lil nap." He finishes. 

I shake my head. 

"I have to be there when Ma wakes up." I say easily. 

Carmine shakes his head. "Lil girl, you are tired. Trisha will call you, alright?" 

I stay seated and stare into space. 

"You so damn stubborn." Carmine comments. 

He walks over to me, picks me up by sliding his hands under my underarms and literally lifts me to Trisha's bed. 

When he sits me down, I fall back onto the bed and cuddle into the softness of her sheets. 

"Can you tell Trisha..." I can barely speak as the sleep begins to take me. 

"Can you just make sure she calls me." I finally get out, my words too slow and too spaced out. 

"I will wake you if Trisha calls. Go to sleep." Carmine finishes. 

I hear his footsteps leave and with them my consciousness. 

__________________________________

I wake up and check the time on Trisha's busted alarm clock. 

I got here around 11 AM and it was now 11 PM. 

I search for my cell phone frantically and see one text from Trisha that came in an hour agao. 

It reads: 

She still isn't awake. Sleep well.  

I reply back. 

Coming now. Thank you. 

I slide on my shoes and go out to the living room where Carmine is talking on the phone as well as watching a game on TV

"Thank you, Carmine." I say nicely

He tells the person on the other line to hold on. 

" There is more food in the microwave for you." He says. 

I can't remember Carmine ever being this nice to me, but I appreciated it

My stomach rumbles at the sound of food. I didn't realize how hungry sleeping can get you.

I gulp down the food and call a cab back to the hospital. All of the paparazzi and news reporters are gone so I casually walk through the front entrance and up to Ma's floor. 

I enter the room and Trisha is watching Real Housewives of Atlanta. 

"Wow, glad you aren't bored." I say shaking my head. 

"These bitches crazy." Trisha laughs. 

I go over to her and outstretch my arms. She gets up and hugs me then kisses my cheek. 

"Thank you." I say. 

"That's my Ma too, remember." She comments. 

I smile. 

That was true. Trisha didn't have a Mother she knew and loved. My Ma was here Ma. 

I guess that's why it didn't feel like work sitting here all this time. 

I assume my position back at Ma's bedside when Ms. Wallace comes in. 

"Goodnight, girls. I'll be here until 7 AM. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be back in a few minutes to check her vitals." She says before disappearing. 

She looked nice today. Hair curled, smile on, eyes bright. Maybe because she got some sleep. 

"I spoke to Pookie." Trisha says turning down the volume of the TV.

She begins to whisper now. 

"Told him that me and him are done. We don't do shit like that." She says firmly. 

"You broke up with him?" I asked shocked. 

"He's cut off. I don't want to see him again." She shrugs. "I'm not going to mess with a killer, Chan." 

Something in me wants to defend Pookie, something in me desperately wants to speak for him, even though I'm just as mad. 

"He was trying to protect me. It was dumb but it was the only way he knew how." I answer. 

"Do you know how dumb you sound. He just took a life, he's just as bad as any other nigga in the hood now. I loved him because him and Trev were DIFFERENT." She attempts to keep her voice quiet but fails. 

I stare at her not knowing what to say. 

"I thought he was different Chan, now he's just continuing the cycle. And then when they want revenge, then what? Somebody else dies? This shit is fucking dumb." She finishes. 

I nod. 

I agree. 

It's what we've been trying to stop. 

I hate what Pookie did, but I can't hate Pookie. He's one of the realest niggas I know. 

"You can still be friends with him if you want. He doesn't exist to me. Not now, not when he ends up in jail and not when he ends up dead because he wanna play all these dumb games these deadbeat niggas out here playing. He's going to lose his fucking life. This shit ain't a game." Trisha mumbles quietly. 


"The language." A distant and throaty voice mumbles. 

Trisha and I look at each other and then both our eyes flash to the bed. 

Ma's eyes flicker open just slightly. 




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