53 - Part II

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[Lamarr]

Tunnel vision.

For the last hour my eyes were fixated on nothing but blinding taillights and the endless white markings of the road, each leading me straight to a destination where everything was unfamiliar, unknown. I couldn't seem to draw them in any other direction, only on the occasional red lights that stood as moments for me to reconsider, turn this rental car around and take flight from New Jersey. I was tempted to escape and forever remain jaded by never getting to the bottom of my very much foul and unyielding ways.

It was all my ego, the flesh.

They were busy keeping me blind as I had been all these years, unconscious of my actions. Every second they were both feeding me lies, telling me that this entire get-together was pointless and that I was perfect just the way that I was; with flaws that continuously hurt the people I love the most. Both singlehandedly had me swearing that a grown ass man doesn't do this, that Lamarr Cole never needed this nigga and never will. They were warping my thinking, forcing me to believe that this validation wasn't necessary. That no relationship or person could ever make me feel significant or worthwhile.

And maybe I didn't, maybe that was true. In fact I knew it was the truth, but none of this mattered or could compare to what was inside of me, those voids. That part that yearned for this day since I was a kid. The part deep down within me that wanted to effectively make a change, be a better man and an even better father. That Cole that was resentful, terrified and had immense concerns and questions awaiting a satisfying answer from one person only. Those alone easily beat the flesh. My ego couldn't stand toe to toe with any of that, the part of me that was suffering and wanted this form of a cure.

So I kept driving. I kept my foot on the gas pedal until that physical distance that I always assumed would remain infinite became attainable, but the emotional was still to be determined. Within minutes I was a block away from the restaurant my father deemed as his favorite on the east coast, then in seconds I was peering through its windows and regarding what was damn near a reflection of myself. The lack of a crowd inside projected his presence as well as the high cheekbones, broad nose and dark droopy eyes we both shared. It was obvious just from one glance that I was my father's child, that couldn't be denied and all my mother managed to do was carry me for nine months. Oh, and raise me.

Another thing the two of us had in common was body language. He sat quietly with his wild eyes wandering from one wall to another, the palm of his hefty hands reflexively caressing his forearm as he leaned down on to the table and personified hesitation. We both were the embodiment of uncertainty. We both were playing mind games with ourselves, wondering whether or not we should stay or leave. We were both nervous wrecks just trying to conceal it in the best ways possible. This growing list of similarities, seeing that we both were one in the same somehow gave me that push I needed to walk inside Orale and lightly tread toward him to get a better glimpse.

When I was a shorty he had way more hair unlike his complete baldness now and he was shorter than I last recalled. Back then this guy James was a giant to me, an actual ass G.I. and for the few years we did interact he was alike to a hero; someone I feared but also looked up to in more ways than one. Now I was quite literally able to look down on him. He was now nothing more than a middle aged, bow legged man who lacked that dominance he seemed to have always been draped in.

Something about his intense eyes that I see in the mirror every damn day had the power to make me glance away. Though only a couple of feet stood between us, it was suddenly difficult to hold the same scrutiny over him as I did outside. My attention was fighting to be captivated by the air brush designs and sphere light fixtures dangling from the ceiling instead of him. As much as I wanted not to, I couldn't help but find my way back what many call the windows to the soul and note the story they spoke.

"Lamarr," he breathed out with a smile forcing itself onto his face as his arms slowly widened for something that was a bit too intimate for us. "I'm glad you came."

I could only nod and awkwardly dodge his attempt for a hug and instead reached my hand out for a shake. The opt out of the gesture obviously slighted him as I watched the curve in his lips falter, not completely into a frown but an understanding and knowing expression. He knew it wasn't going to be that easy. As our hands embraced he kept his eyes fastened to me, even when I finally pulled away and sat down.

Unfortunately there was nothing but silence existing between us. Time was waiting for one of us to speak up, for me to let my guard down and for him to play his role. Instead he continued to stare or maybe even admire what he had helped create. He took in every bit of my unkempt appearance and the unsteady tap of my fingertips against the tabletop before he eventually cleared his throat, and attempted to clear the air.

"How have you been, Lamarr?" I shrugged and moved my eyes to another spray painted piece right aside our table. My body automatically leaned back into the cushion of my seat as I took a deep breath like Riley would've advised had she known I was going to be here. She always told me in my darkest moments, whenever I needed reassurance the most, to just breathe, and all shall be just fine.

"Cool. I've been great for the most part."

"That's good to hear," he said, allowing another few long seconds of painful silence to linger. By now I was already anticipating a waiter to come by and intervene, to offer a hard drink I could use to shake my nerves. Maybe even disrupt those once bottled up feelings resting at the tip of my tongue, that I wanted to release so badly, but the right way.

Now that I think about it, was there a right way? I deserved to say whatever I had to say and however I wanted to, but I also didn't want to become so consumed by them that I embarrassed myself, that I traveled this far in vain. I wanted to end this with possibilities, if it were realistic. Even still, I was waiting for something, anything.

I was damn conflicted.

"That's really good to hear," he repeated faintly, cutting into the tense air then pressed on. "Your mother told me the last couple of years have been difficult for you, especially last year. She said it took a toll on you, so I'm glad to know th—"

"How often do you speak to her?" I questioned as my brows furrowed together and my eyes finally eased over and settled on his face. "It seems to me like you know much more about me than I'd think an absentee father would. So...?"

"Every few months, though sometimes communication was extremely scarce and I'd call only once a year. This year however it's been almost every month," he disclosed, and it pissed me off more than I expected it to.

From this moment on the idea of a peaceful conversation had become futile. My efforts to be an adult were flying straight out the window as my anger bubbled. More than anything I was feeling like a kid again. One that thought he had it all figured out, but was easily being pulled from under his little rock only to find that he was oblivious to everything. So whatever reaction that followed from here on in was bound to be erratic. This man's honesty and what it encompassed had set off a ticking time bomb.

My jaw clenched tightly together as I stared back at him and allowed his words to set in. "For how long?"

"Since you were in college. I tried to reach ou—"

"I know," I interjected as my fingertips came to a halt and my hand balled up into a fist. Now my foot was tapping impatiently against the pallets of the floor. "When I was about to graduate from St. Johns you contacted me directly. I invited you to my graduation and the dinner party afterwards just to give you a shot, but only because my mama told me it'd be a good idea. You didn't show up though, you did what you do best and that's be a ghost. You called me afterwards to try and make yourself feel better. To try and mend a heart that had already been broken for years. I accepted your bullshit apology, but then I said you know what? Fuck it. You're about to trap yourself in a cycle, Lamarr. He'll call you up a few times, make you feel loved for a bit then feed you a list of lies right before he just stops and randomly picks up years later when he feels like it. Am I wrong?"

He bowed his head, an obvious answer, while I anticipated an excuse to trail behind. This would be the point where he'd tell me what he thought I wanted to hear, what he assumed sounded appeasing. Instead he remained quiet, giving the impression that he might actually be apologetic about all the bad memories he had singlehandedly given me.

I wanted him to.

I wanted him to feel sorry because he was in fact sorry. I wanted him to be plagued with regret to the point it kept him up at night, if it already hadn't. I wanted him to feel everything I had felt because in my eyes, he had not a clue how much he had screwed me up. He had no idea what it was like to peak out into the crowd on one of the proudest moments of my life, search for his face and see everyone but him. He couldn't fathom the nights I sat up and wrote rhymes just to disregard the pain I felt knowing I wasn't good enough for my own father, or wondering what I had did wrong and how could I repair it. This guy had not a fuckin' inkling of what it felt like to be tossed around, to be picked up, dropped off and forgotten. He just didn't.

As he head remained down I took a second to shut my eyes and inhale deeply once again, but it was barely keeping me calm. Barely.

"When I was a shorty and my mama called it quits, you ain't have to pack up and move all the way to Texas." I spat as the sight of his old school silver Cadillac driving off to never return flashed before my eyes. "That was a choice. You chose to leave and say fuck being a father to your kids. Yo, and then the nerve of you to beg my mama to send me down there during the summer only to play daddy for a day and ignore my existence on the others. Man, you'd pass me off to my aunt like I was hers. So after a while I just cut the crap for you. I did you a favor, right? I ignored you for a reason."

"Look, Lamarr..." he mustered up, restlessly. "You and your brother didn't des—"

"Maybe I should've been grateful for your half ass attempts," I sputtered out, cutting him short for a second time as my foot finally stood froze. I needed another few minutes of ranting and releasing this pent up animosity before I could feel light enough and open enough to listen to whatever he had to say, and accept it.

"You were never actively there, but some niggas don't even know their pops. You picking and choosing should've been enough, huh? The least you could've done when you did give a damn was teach me right from wrong. You could've helped me with my first real jump shot, taught me about girls, dating, and all the other shit you're supposed to. I instead learned it all on my own, the hard way, and from an abusive step father who wasn't shit either. All you taught me was how not to trust, how to be selfish and how to hurt people. Thanks pops," I tittered bitterly. "Then on top of that he taught me how to be a liar, prideful and manipulative - now look. I'm just a fuckin' mess. And I'm tired of being this way, feeling this way!"

"So allow me to get the rest of this heaviness off my chest, let me remove the weight of the world off my shoulders and say this. You're a coward. Instead of just being a real man, a father and doing the right things for your family, you keep tabs on us by randomly calling my mother up? That ain't fair to her, to me or Zach. Speaking of Zach," I shook my head and rubbed my hand along my chin. "You fixing shit with him too? He's more fucked up than me. In and out of jail, searching for some kind of stability because after you left, our world was flipped upside down. While you were down in Texas doing only God knows what, my mama married a man who fucked her over. Had her strung out, broke and everything! You didn't call back then and check on her or us. So why now? What's so different? What's suddenly so fuckin; different?" I asked as my resentment, my rage emphasized my need to know with every single word.

"It wasn't that easy for me back then, Lamarr."

"So what's the fuckin' difference now?" I repeated, raising my voice as he quickly glanced around the empty restaurant and held his hand up to compose me. "I mean aside the fact that you have a brand new wife, probably even a set of new kids to show for it. They renew you? Turn you into some kind of God fearing man and persuade you to fix shit?" I grilled with a raised brow.  "Now you can speak."

"It has nothing to do with them," he began as I leaned down onto the table top and nodded. I figured as much, it was too good to be true. "But it has everything to do with you and your brother deserving better than what I've given you and what I haven't. Granted you deserve more and from someone better than me, I still can't help but want to give it to you all myself. I will forever be indebted to you both, until the day that I die and even when I leave this Earth. I wanted to speak to you, apologize and maybe even start over. I'm so sorry for leaving you all, Lamarr. I'm sorry for being absent when you needed me the most. I apologize from the bottom of my heart for hurting you. How you feel is warranted. You should hate me, be mad at me, hell even fight me. I just want to finally fix this before its too late and move forward."

"It ain't about what you want," I hissed as he lowered his eyes and sighed. Almost as if he were disappointed that this might be turning out the way he dreaded it would. "Honestly, fuck what you want."

"Then what do you want then, Lamarr?" The question echoed in my ear.

If it were possible, I'd want to go back, shift our history and have him present in my life when it mattered most. That way we wouldn't even have to be sitting here in this foreign place like two strangers. But in real time, I wanted an abundance of things that might take him a lifetime or more to give. Some I was afraid he wasn't able to, some that may have been too far fetched. But he was indebted though, right?

"I wanna say fuck you, that part of me that is comfortable in being bitter and buried in my hurt. But that same part and every other existing layer to me wants a father so damn bad, man. No matter how old I get I want that bond," I confessed and exhaled, placing my face in my hands as that usual pang struck my chest. My anger was waning into this urgency and this sense of desperation. I knew what I wanted and needed in order to feel complete, and I knew that no matter what I held against this man in the past, I wanted my biological father to be the person to fill those voids.

"I bought this picture frame when I was thirteen," I unveiled. "After the last time I came to visit you in Texas, after some summers of not seeing you at all. I bought it and I prayed that one day I'd be able to place a photo inside. Not just any photo, but one of me and you. One where I could feel the unconditional love between the two men in it. I wanted to look at it and know that I meant something to you simply through our embrace. I want to feel wanted. I want my kid to know their grandfather and to be loved by him even more than he claims he loves me. I want to learn from my mistakes and yours, be a better man and an even better father. I want all of that."

"And you can have it all," he assured as my hands slid down from my face and I bit down on my cheeks to refrain from what was to come next.

My father reached his hand out across the table, filling in the distance between the two of us and placed it on top of mines. Unlike before I was receptive to him and his touch. I was allowing myself to forgive him, this was the initiation. Our eyes locked and compared to when I walked in, there was a difference between the two; he was now on the verge of crying.

"I don't want to hurt you, Lamarr. Despite what you may think, I love you. I've loved you since the day I found out your mom was pregnant with you. I've spent years feeling guilt, hating myself for not being there for you and your brother. All I want to do now is right by you. I swear, right hand up to God." he said with a dim chuckle, a tear flowing down each of his flushed cheeks as I swiftly shook my head. I

"I look at magazines, different television stations and listen to the radio only to see and hear you. I'm so proud of it all. I'm proud of you and who you've become, but then I feel horrible because I missed it all. I don't want to miss anymore, Lamarr."

It was human nature to go through that process of contemplation, but it was now becoming exhausting. I'd never get anywhere with myself or him if I thought on this too much and honestly, what was there to think about? Just as he squeezed my hand I gazed back at him and imagined the possible harmony, something that only existed in a perfect world, giving him a chance could get me close to. I wanted my wildest dreams, as this day alone was itself, to rub elbows with my reality beyond this instance.

Then that's when I heard her sweet voice fluttering around in the back of my head. In fact she was hovering over shoulder, her spirit, just like those little angels. I heard Riley loud and clear.

You'll never know unless you give him a chance. It's been years Lamarr and a lot of separation. He might get it right this time.

With a blink that weakened my gaze over him, a genuine smile began curving along my lips as I sighed and started us over here, at this minute, and from scratch.

"So tell me, what brings you to Jersey? You're no longer a Texas resident and a little birdy told me you reside in Baldwin Hills now." I said, alluding to the only person who kept us linked for eternity and always updated me on his whereabouts – Kay Cole, that damn woman. "This is far from home, ain't it?"

"Yeah, but family," he said as a matter of fact. "Family brought me here, son. I'd travel around the world and back for them."

And I hoped he'd never give me another reason to doubt that or him ever again. I was for the first time in a long time trusting.  Even if I was scared out of my mind to do so.

———————-

"Lamarr?" she called out from the other end of the phone, nothing but worry trickling into her tone as I left the line still.

My body was froze, no sound or movement could be peeped as I sat in my 'sanctuary' with nothing but the company of the evening. I had tunnel vision once again, my eyes attached to nothing in particular this time, merely sinking into an abyss.

After driving back to New York and making it into the comfort of my loft's rooftop, I immediately called Riley because it was instinctive. It was the first thing my body knew to do. I didn't plan on bothering her with my problems. If anything I had set out to come here, crash into my mattress and allow sleep to drown out the overwhelming and indescribable feeling consuming me. My body knew better though. It knew what was essential to ease what I, at best, summed up to be anxiety.

Even still I couldn't seem to utter a word to Riley. I couldn't get what was troubling me out verbally. Maybe because it was too much to explain or because it was instead materializing itself physically into scorching tears at that

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