by Bailey West
“Yeah, it’s been tougher than I expected,” Paxton sat back on the couch and closed his eyes. “You would think that since we knew she was going, it would make it easier but its just as hard as if she’d died suddenly.”
“I’m thinking about canceling everything that I have coming up for awhile to make sure Rome is taken care of. I’m worried about him.”
Paxton sat up and looked at me, “There is no way I am going to let you pass up the opportunity to travel the world. If Blue heard you say that you wanted to quit something because of him, he would flip. I know that it looks bad right now. He’s drinking and acting entirely out of character, but he has to walk through this. He’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” I stood to my feet and started pacing, “but I can’t be gone all the time knowing my brother is suffering like this.”
“What can you do if you stay? No one can make him better until he is ready to be better. Live your life. Isn’t that what Kay told you the last time you spoke to her?”
My eyes watered thinking about the last conversation I had with Michaela.
Kay made everyone leave the room so she could speak to me privately. She was bed bound and was on oxygen. She removed the oxygen mask from her face.
“No Kay, don’t take that off,” I moved to put the mask back on her.
She waved me away and said, “You know it’s okay to cry. I’m an awesome person. I know you are going to miss me!”
I laughed, but I did go ahead and let the tears fall. I had been trying to be strong for her and Blue. I appreciated this moment to let it out. She held my hand while I tried to stop myself from crying. I thought that if I just let a couple tears fall, that would be enough to relieve some of the pressure, but they wouldn’t stop falling. This hurt like hell.
“Let them out, Zeke. Tears are important. The water helps wash things away like grief and disappointment while the salt from the tears helps heal the wounds those things leave behind.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes until I got myself together.
“This is my prayer journal,” she said hoarsely. She pulled a book from under her pillow.“I write down my prayers or visions that I have. Can I read what I wrote in here about you?”
I nodded, “Only if it’s good stuff.”
She laughed, “It’s good.” She softly read, “Thank you, God for my brother Ezekiel. I know that he was created to impact the world not only in music but in business. I pray that you will guide him to make the best decisions. Always remind him of who he is and who you created him to be. I know that you will have to speak a little louder when it comes to women.” She chuckled and continued, “I know he’s my brother and not my child but I feel so proud to have assisted in helping him become the man that he is now. Protect him. Lead him. Teach him. Bless him. My golden drummer boy.” She placed the oxygen mask back on her face and took a deep breath.
“Kay, what are we going to do without you?” My heart was breaking, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to reconcile that I would be without her.
She removed the mask again, “You are going to live. Live for me. Live for yourself. Create memories. Tour, travel and love someone. Let her love you back. Make babies and be happy.”
We lost her a couple weeks later.
“What would she say if she heard you talking about not going after your dreams?”
“Yeah…”
“I’m here now. I am going to make sure Blue is okay.”
“I’m worried about you too! You haven’t been back from overseas for that long. You haven’t talked about it much, but I know that you went through some bad stuff over there.”
Paxton joined the Army right after high school. He had been deployed to Iraq for twelve months. Army units are supposed to take a year off before they re-deploy, but his didn’t. He was back in the States for six months before he was deployed to Afghanistan for eighteen more months. He didn’t call home or send letters very often, but when he did, they were like gold to us. We worried all the time.
My mother always said, “He’s okay. If something were wrong, the Army would let us know.”
He’s told me a story or two about some things that happened while he was deployed. He lost two of his good friends while he was there. He never detailed their deaths, but it hurt him deeply. I looked into his eyes when he came home, and I knew that he wasn’t the same person we sent over there. He’d changed a lot. We sent a guy over there with a sense of humor, a guy who smiled all the time. Now it’s a rarity to see him smile. He still has a sense of humor but not like he did before he deployed.
One time we were riding down the street right after he came back from Afghanistan. Blue was driving, and Paxton was sitting in the passenger seat. I was in the back seat. We pulled up alongside a regular looking van with tinted windows. The driver side window started to roll down. Maybe because the driver was hot or was about to throw something out of the window, I don’t know. Paxton saw the window lowering. He yelled, “Situation! Situation, get down.” He managed to throw himself over Blue while grabbing my neck and forcing me down into the back seat.
Nothing happened, I don’t even think the person in the van saw the commotion that was happening in our car. When I was able to sit back up, the van was gone.
“Pax,” Blue said calmly, “It’s good. We are good.”
He kept saying it until Paxton finally made eye contact with him and nodded his head. Cars backfiring, doors slamming or random groups of people. We never knew what would make him panic.
“I’m okay.” Paxton continued our conversation pulling me from my trip down memory lane. “I’ve been going to therapy at the VA hospital, and there is an on-campus support group at my school. I know it's easier said than done but worry about chasing your dreams, don’t worry about us.Things here will be fine. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I agreed, but it was still so hard to leave them to return to touring. I paid for a chef to come and cook dinner for Blue. I also hired a maid and a lawn service to keep his house up. Paxton would go over and check on him frequently, so I had some peace of mind while I was on the road.
I poured my heart and soul into my craft. I wanted to do well so that my family, including Kay, would be proud of me.
2
“Doctor Chambers.”
I looked up from the textbook I was reading to see one of my former professors, Doctor Miller, standing in front of me. I was sitting in the library on the campus of my alma mater trying to stay up on my skills. I had one more year of my residency before I could take the test to become a board certified Oral Surgeon.
“Doctor Miller,” I smiled as I closed the textbook and stood to greet him. I extended my hand, and he accepted.
“I wanted to speak to you about something. Would you have a minute to come to my office?”
“Sure.”
I packed my textbooks into my backpack and followed Doctor Miller out of the library. We made small talk while traveling across the campus to the building that housed his office. He opened the door to let me in first then followed behind me and closed the door.
“Have a seat.”
I chose the most comfortable chair closest to his desk. I was very familiar with Doctor Miller’s office. I had come here on more than one occasion seeking advice or getting help with some class work that seemed to be impossible to figure out. Doctor Miller has an ability to explain things in a way that made perfect sense and helped me to comprehend. I have taken every class that he’s taught while I was enrolled at Columbia.
“There are a group of doctors that are starting a practice in Houston, Texas. A general dentist, a pediatric dentist, orthodontist, endodontist and a periodontist. They have asked me to come on as the Oral Surgeon. As you know, I am retiring from teaching at the end of this school year. I didn’t plan on going back into a practice, but I felt like this was an opportunity I could not pass up. I told them that I would take the position under one condition. That condition is tha
t I get to bring along a protégé-someone who would take over for me after I retire.”
“A protégé? That’s going to be amazing for someone,” I smiled thinking about how great it would be if I had the opportunity to be his protégé.
“I think so too which is why I called you into my office. We have the chance to work with one of the local hospitals and offer an oral surgery residency. I want you to come to Houston. Complete your residency at the practice and the hospital with me. Once I retire, you would take over the position as the head Oral Surgeon.”
I tilted my head to the side trying to make sure I was hearing him correctly. Did he just say that he wants me to move to Houston to complete my residency?
“Doctor Miller…I…”
He interrupted me. “Don’t answer now. Give it some thought. After you’ve made a decision, then we can talk about salary and what a partnership will mean for you. Can you give it some thought for me?”
I nodded my head.
“Oh, Zora.” I turned to look back at him, “You know my wife loves BJ so having him close in Houston would be the icing on the cake for her.”
I smiled.
“I will give it some thought Doctor Miller. I will let you know.”
I didn’t know Doctor Miller the first time I knocked on his office door. He was the head of the dental department. I was going to his office to inform him of my decision to drop out of school.
“Come in.”
I entered the small office and stood in place until he motioned for me to have a seat. Doctor Miller was a handsome older man. He had a head full of white hair that he kept longer in the top and low on the sides. He had beautiful green eyes and a permanent tan. He kept his body right, so it was impossible to tell that he was nearing sixty years old. I’m sure he had the women lined up at his door when he was younger. It might be some outside the door now.
I looked around his office at all of the dental books that littered his desk and the bookshelves. I examined the old-school chart on the wall that illustrated the teeth numbers. I didn’t think I would ever learn the teeth by number. Now I know number three is the first molar on the maxilla. Number twenty-two is the cuspid on the left side of the mandible. Number sixteen is the…
“Can I help you?”
I looked from the chart to meet Doctor Miller’s questioning eyes.
“Yes, I wanted to inform you that I will not be continuing with the Dental program. I have too much responsibility. I have a baby who needs my attention, my boyfriend disappeared into thin air, my best friend, who is my rock, moved back to Saint Louis where we are from. I thought I could handle this, but it’s too much. Oh, I’m Zora Chambers,” I said without taking a breath.
Doctor Miller leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers in front of him. He stared at me for a moment before he spoke.
“I know who you are, Ms. Chambers. I make it a practice to know all of the students in the Dental program. I would really like it if you would reconsider leaving the program. Do you know how rare it is for a female to chose the dental profession? I read that you want to continue on to specialize in Oral and Maxillofacial surgery? You're not just a female but you are a black female. You are like a unicorn in a snowstorm in Florida. I really would like for you to reconsider leaving the program.”
“So…you want me to stay because I check some affirmative action box?” I tilted my head to the side.
“No, I want you to stay because you tested higher on your Dental Admissions Test than anyone in the program. I want you to stay because you graduated from an Ivy League school, a year and a half early, with an almost perfect GPA. I know that you will be an asset to this field.”
It was true. Since I didn’t go back home, I went to school year round which gave me the opportunity to graduate undergrad early and start grad school right away. School always came easy to me but going to school and raising a child, that was another story.
“Doctor Miller, I can’t. I’m so stressed out. I’ve never been a mom before. When I had BJ, I thought that I would always have someone around to help me. If not my friend then at least his father. Right now I don’t have either. Sometimes, I am up all night because I can’t figure out why he won’t stop crying. If I do sleep, I’m up at five in the morning to get us both ready and out of the door by six. I have to ride the subway to Brooklyn because that’s the only daycare I could find that has extended hours. I need the longer hours so I can go to class and get some studying in before I have to pick him back up. I get home. I feed and bathe him. I spend a little time with him before I put him down then the cycle starts all over again the next day. I’m exhausted.”
“What if we could come up with a way to simplify your life for you. Would you consider staying in school?”
This is not how I thought this conversation would go. I thought I would walk in here and tell him I was leaving. He would say don’t let the door hit you where the good Lord split you and I would be on my way. Instead, he is trying to talk me out of leaving. Ain’t this about a bish?
“Yes, it’s always been my dream to become an Oral Surgeon, but we have to play the cards that we are dealt. Looking at my hand, I have Go Fish cards in a poker game. Like everyone else is placing their bets, and when it becomes my turn I ask, ‘Does anyone have a frog?’”
He chuckled, “Let me look into a couple of things and get back to you. Can you give me until the end of the week?”
I said yes, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to come up with anything. He fooled me! By the end of the week, I had a daycare provider that was right around the corner from my apartment and Doctor Miller’s wife volunteered to pick up BJ on the days that I would have to study late. I wasn’t trying to let just anyone around my son, but Hannah is a sweet person. Doctor Miller and Hannah saved me. I wouldn’t have made it through school without them.
I picked BJ up from daycare, fixed him dinner, gave him a bath and put him to sleep all while thinking about moving to Houston. I believe that it would be a great opportunity for me and BJ. I could work with top tier doctors while still learning. BJ can grow up outside of the city with grass and trees. I don’t know why I’m thinking about it so hard! I’m going to take Doctor Miller up on his offer and move to Houston.
Ezekiel
“When will I see you again, Ezekiel? I hope soon.”
“I can’t make any promises. You know that.”
“I know, but I enjoy our time together.”
I looked up from tying my shoes to make eye contact with this ebony goddess standing in front of me. Her skin was smooth and dark. Just like I like it. She was posed in front of me in the terry cloth robe the hotel provides.
“You know how I move Layna. I told you that I’m not trying to wife anybody. I just want to have some fun. You agreed to that, right?”
“I did, and I still do agree, but I wish that we could do something together outside of the bedroom,” she poked out her lips.
See this is how most females move. I tell them up front that I’m not in the market for a main chick, side chick, wife or baby momma. Hell, I’m not even looking for a friend. I’m an eternal bachelor. They all agree to it at first, and then they decide that they want more. They try to change my mind. I can see it in her eyes, Rose had that same look, which is why I’m moving quickly to get the hell up outta this hotel room.
I stood to leave, and she dropped her robe exposing her perfectly proportioned breast, her pierced navel on her flat stomach and her lush thighs that when opened revealed a sweet secret. I blew out a breath knowing in my mind that I had to get out of here, but my body responded immediately. She slowly walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“We have the room a few more hours. Are you sure you have to leave?”
“Naw, I got moves to make.”
After that little conversation, I knew that I wouldn't be calling her anymore. I didn't do attachments. If they start to get too clingy, then I must move on.
I looked around
making sure that I had retrieved all my belongings. I made sure the condoms were flushed, and my cell phone and wallet were in my pocket. You can never be too careful.
“I will see you around,” I called over my shoulder as I closed the hotel room door behind me.
I had successfully avoided relationships by being honest and upfront with women. Some couldn’t handle the way I rolled while others played like they didn’t mind. Those are the ones you have to watch. They will roll with you at first then they try to start switching things up.
They say things like: “When am I going to meet your family?”
“Never,” is usually my response.
Or: “Do you ever think you are going to settle down and raise a family?”
“Nope,” is my standard answer to that question.
I’m not here to hold anyone back. If a woman wants those things, then she is wasting her time with me. I say be free little cheesy bread. Fly…fly. Straight up.
I don’t want those things. I want to be free to enjoy life. I’m not against marriage. It’s just not for me.
My brothers and I relocated to Houston, Texas from New York a couple years after Michaela died. My father is the Pastor of Abundant Blessings Church in New York. He decided to branch out and open another church. He chose Houston for the location of the new church and appointed Roman as the Pastor. Paxton and I moved to support him. I love New York, but I thought moving south would give me more bang for my buck. Houston is growing and thriving. The music scene is growing. It’s been a good move for all of us. Both of my brothers are doing well mentally. Roman bounced back from Michaela’s death, and Paxton’s PTSD is under control.
I prayed for them a lot. Most people hear me say that I prayed and automatically assume that I couldn't be a Christian based on my lifestyle or their perception of my lifestyle, but I am. It’s just that my ideas of Christianity compared to other’s ideas are different. Most people would call me a rebel because I’m not a traditional Christian. I don’t carry a bible around and say, “Praise the Lord” to everyone that I encounter. I don’t quote Bible scriptures for every occasion, but I love God. Do I mess up? Hell yeah. All the time, but I know that He still loves me. I'm not perfect. I don't pretend to be perfect, I don’t want to be perfect. I think some people believe that if you are a Christian, you are supposed to be this super human, no mistake-making individual. That is so far from the truth! I can’t stand when Christians put on that façade like they are not subject to the exact same struggles and difficulties as everyone else. I struggle! I have difficulties! I like real people. Real people are the ones that can admit that they are somewhat dysfunctional but they are trying. I would much rather be around those types of people than those that feel like they have to front based on their beliefs. I’m sure that was not the idea when Jesus came to earth. He didn’t say, “Hey everyone that wants to follow me, pick up a mask and come on. Don’t let people see the real you. Be fake and phony my children.” No, he said follow me, period.
