by Warren, Mike
Honey, I felt so weak, I couldn’t seem to take another step. I stood with my back against the wall, my head hung low. I wasn’t sure why, but I was afraid of this man lying on the bed unconscious and fighting for his life. I knew this was my brother, but because of the way he looked, as far as I was concerned, he was a complete stranger. My little body began to shake uncontrollably and lower itself to the floor.
“Hello, Mrs. Wilson, I’m Dr. Ross,” he replied, extending his hand.
Mother never bothered to shake Dr. Ross’ hand because her focus was on Ray. “Is he gonna be all right, doctor?” she asked, tears flowing as she held Ray’s right hand.
“I wish I could answer that, Mrs. Wilson, but I can’t.” Dr. Ross continued to examine Ray.
Mother yelled, “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“Mrs. Wilson, your son has sustained a serious gunshot injury, and to be honest, even if we go in and try to retrieve the bullet, there’s no guarantee he will survive it.”
“And if you don’t operate?” Mother asked, sounding defeated.
Dr. Ross replied softly, “He will surely die.”
Once Dr. Ross told Mother that Ray would die if they didn’t operate, she instantly fainted. Dr. Ross pressed the emergency button, and other doctors and nurses came running in the room. They placed Mother up on a gurney and rolled her out of the room.
I stayed curled up against the wall not knowing whether to cry, pray, or scream. Once they rolled Mother out of the room, I stood up and tiptoed over to this stranger lying on his back, fighting for his life, on life support, and tubes running in and out of his mouth and up his nose. The tears started to flow down my cheeks. I realized that even if my brother did survive the operation, he would never be the same Ray I knew and loved.
I leaned my head down on his chest just so I could feel closer to him and to listen to his heartbeat. I was wishing I hadn’t made him mad before going to his prom. I wanted to take it all back.
I whispered in his ear, “I’m so so sorry for what I said, Ray. I really didn’t mean any of it. Please, don’t die.”
Suddenly the machine Ray was hooked up to began beeping loudly, and the next thing I know, doctors and nurses were coming from everywhere. I was pulled to the side as I watched them pull out these electric paddles and rubbed them together.
Someone yelled, “Clear,” as they slammed these paddles against my brother’s chest.
“Leave my brother alone!” I screamed, not realizing they were only trying to keep him alive.
One of the doctors yelled, “Get him outta here!”
One of the male nurses picked me up and forcefully carried me out into the hallway. He was trying to explain to me that they were doing everything in their power to help my brother, but I was too busy looking into the glass room as they continued to slap Ray with those electric paddles. I guess I was a little hysterical because the brotha grabbed me so hard, I couldn’t help but focus on what he was saying.
“We are doing everything we can to help your brother,” he yelled. “Please give us a chance to do that.”
“Why are they slapping him with them paddles if they were trying to help him?” I spat, my hands on my hips.
“Those paddles help his heart beat,” he tried to assure me.
“How so?”
“Well, you see sometimes when the heart stops beating, we use those paddles to give an electrical shock to the heart that makes it start beating again.”
“Are you saying my brother’s heart stopped beating?” I asked, crying again.
At that moment, I saw my mother come running down the hallway. I guess someone must have gone to get her, but she started crying hysterically once she entered my brother’s room.
I didn’t know what was going on, so I went into the room and stood against the wall just in time to hear one of the doctors say to my mother, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilson, but we did all we could.”
I wasn’t sure what was said after that because everything seemed to have come to a standstill.
Mother threw herself on Ray’s body and started screaming, “Wake up, Ray, wake up!”
Dr. Ross tried to console Mother, but she wasn’t having it. Mother paid Dr. Ross no mind as she continued to pull and grab at Ray’s dead body.
I became numb to everything as I watched my mother hold on to Ray. My dead brother. That sounded so strange to me. A brother that I loved, and was in love with.
I watched as the hospital staff literally had to pry my mother’s grip from Ray’s dead body before placing a sheet over his head. Baby, this was the first time I’d ever experienced this much pain. Even thinking about it now, brings tears to my eyes.
After Mother said her good-byes to my brother, we walked out of his room arm in arm. I didn’t know who was supporting whom, but I guess we were supporting each other.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Wilson,” Officer Crawley said in a genuine tone as he waited to take us back home.
“Thank you,” Mother said through her pain and tears.
As we got into Officer Crawley’s cruiser, Mother asked, “Officer Crawley, do you know who did this to my boy?”
“Yes, we have him in custody as we speak, and he will be sent to prison. You can count on that.”
“I want to see the monster that killed my boy.”
“I don’t think now is a good time, Mrs. Wilson. Maybe another time would be better?”
“I want to see the monster that killed my boy!” Mother demanded.
*
Officer Crawley had taken my mother and I down to the police station, where we were informed that the monster, as my mother called him, was still being questioned by an officer in one of the investigation rooms. My mother and I were escorted to another room with a huge mirror on one side of the wall, adjoining the room where the monster was being questioned.
My mouth literally opened wide when I saw who the monster was. How could I tell my mother that the monster who killed her son was the dude on the basketball court named Junior, who Ray beat up because of me? My legs buckled, and this time, I fell straight to the floor.
“Son, are you okay?” Officer Crawley asked as he helped me up.
My eyes began to water once more. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What is his name?” Mother asked.
Officer Crawley looked at his paperwork. “His name is Jerome Rogers, but they call him Junior.”
“He’s just a baby himself. How old is he?” Mother asked.
“He just turned eighteen.”
As Mother and Officer Crawley talked, all I could do was to stare at Junior behind the glass mirror. The guilt I felt was horrible. Why did I have to go outside that day? If I’d stayed in the house like I was supposed to, Ray would still be alive. How was I supposed to live with this guilt for the rest of my life?
*
Mother and I were chauffeured back to our home, courtesy of Officer Crawley. There wasn’t any conversation along the way. Once we got home, Mother went to her room, and I went to mine. I closed my door and lay on Ray’s bunk while listening to Mother bawl her eyes out in the next room. As I lay there, I could still feel and smell him all around me.
Am I sleeping? I asked this because it felt like a dream. Am I breathing? Is it my brother who died, or was it me? I thought it must have been me because my brother had always protected me, so who was going to protect me now? My brother loved me, so who was going to love me now?
I didn’t think I could take this kind of pain. How can I kill myself? I so wanted to die but was too afraid of death. How can I go on when I don’t want to live? Who will protect me now? What about my brother’s clothes and his things? I think I wanna move. I can’t stay here in this room and not have my brother here to love me.
My brother protected me, but he was killed because of me. I killed my brother. Can anybody hear me? I killed my brother. Wake up, Cameron. This can’t be happening. Wake up. I want to kill Junior. Who will protect me now?
I need
ed someone to protect and love me. I wanted him to be Beautiful, Black, Employed, Attractive, Understanding, Tall, Independent, Faithful, Unique, Lovable, and most of all, protective of me. Please God, Just Make Him Beautiful.
*
The following day I didn’t wake up until noon time. I really didn’t feel like getting up because I had slept in Ray’s bed all night, which comforted me.
I got up and walked out into the living room, but all the lights were still out. I went to Mother’s room and knocked on her bedroom door, but there was no answer. I quietly opened the door and found her lying in bed, still asleep.
“Mother, wake up,” I said, tapping her. She didn’t budge or make a sound. “Mother, wake up.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Mother, it’s after twelve o’clock. Didn’t Dr. Ross ask you to give him a call around this time?”
“Leave me alone, I said.”
“Mother, you have to wake up. We have to make arrangements for Ray.”
“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” she said, turning over and going back to sleep.
I closed Mother’s door, got dressed, and went next door to get my baby sister.
I knocked on Ms. Washington’s door and waited until she answered.
“Good afternoon, Cameron. So, how is Ray doing?”
Obviously, she hadn’t heard. I didn’t know how to say it, so I just blurted out, “He’s dead. That’s how he’s doing!” I started to cry again.
“Oh my God! Cameron, I didn’t know. Come on in, baby.” She opened the door so I could enter.
I walked into her apartment and found Keshia sitting at the kitchen table eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a glass of milk. I sat at the kitchen table and explained to Ms. Washington what had happened when we got to the hospital the night before, and that Ray had died because of me.
“No, Cameron, don’t say that. Ray died because it was just his time. God called him, and when God calls, you must answer.”
I didn’t tell Ms. Washington that Ray had beaten this guy up because of me and that the guy sought out revenge and shot Ray several times in the chest. I thought I would just keep that to myself, but the guilt was still eating me inside, and all I could do was cry. Once I started crying, Keshia started crying as well.
Ms. Washington held and rocked us both. I guess all I really needed was to be comforted by a mother figure because my own mother was so out of it herself that she didn’t take into consideration her other two children. I don’t mean that in a bad way because I couldn’t imagine what a parent must feel like when they lose a child.
*
Finally, Keshia and I went home, only to find Mother still in the bed with the curtains drawn and in the dark. I asked her if she wanted something to eat, but she refused. I fixed Keshia and me a couple of TV dinners, and afterwards I put her to bed.
I sat in the living room alone and in the dark, afraid of what was happening to my family. I had cried so much, my eyes were bloodshot-red, and I was just tired of crying, tired of the pain.
“Please, God, take this pain away,” I begged, crying and rocking myself to sleep.
Chapter 8
Three days after Ray’s death, Mother was still in her room, lying in her bed in the dark. My baby sister did nothing but cry and complain about everything I did. Either I wasn’t combing her hair the right way, or the food I tried to cook didn’t taste right. I was thirteen years old, and I felt like dying. I guess that’s why Mother hadn’t gotten out of bed. Losing a child just ain’t right. God must’ve been angry at what my brother and I did. I suspected it was only a matter of time before God came for me.
I was so scared that every time the phone rang, I jumped. And the phone had been ringing off the hook. If it wasn’t Mother’s job calling, it was Dr. Ross calling to see when Mother was coming down to the morgue to have my brother’s body moved to a funeral home.
Neither I nor my baby sister had been to school since Ray’s death. Fortunately, Ms. Washington had been watching Keshia during the day while I kept an eye on Mother. The problem was, I couldn’t get her out of bed or to eat, no matter how hard I tried.
*
The following day, I sent Keshia over to Ms. Washington’s apartment and prepared a hot breakfast for Mother. I cooked scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, and prepared a glass of cherry Kool-Aid.
I placed it all on a tray and entered Mother’s bedroom. “Mother, wake up. I’ve fixed you some breakfast. Come on, get up.” I placed the tray on the bed and turned on the lamp on the dresser next to the bed. She didn’t move. “Mother, wake up.”
“Leave me alone,” she spat.
“Mother, you have to eat sumf’n,” I pleaded.
“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” she stated angrily. “Now, get out of my room.”
“No, Mother, I can’t do that. Every day you tell me to get outta your room, but today I’m not. I want you to eat sumf’n.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? And who the hell are you?”
“I’m your son, that’s who I am.”
“Son, for your information my son just died. I don’t have a son no more. I have a daughter and a faggot. That’s what I got left.”
I was so shocked, I just froze. I couldn’t believe my own mother had said that.
“Now, get the hell outta my room!” she yelled, and turned away from me.
I picked up the tray of food, walked out of the room, and slammed her bedroom door. I was so angry and hurt, I threw the tray of food against the living room wall. It never really bothered me when other people called me names like that, but coming from my own mother, it stung deeply. It was the first time I felt my mother wished I had never been born.
I sat down on the living room couch and cried like a baby. I didn’t have my big brother to protect me, and now I didn’t have a mother to nurture me. Why was God being so cruel?
*
One week after Ray’s death, Mother still lay in her bed, starving herself in the dark. I believe Mother was trying to kill herself. I really didn’t care if she did. The pain and the hurt that I once felt had now turned to anger. I was mad at everything and everyone…Mother, Junior, and especially God. The best thing about my anger was, it helped me to stop crying, and made me want to live. I wanted to live for revenge. It didn’t matter how long it took, but I was gonna see to it that Junior paid for killing my brother.
As I lay on Ray’s bunk thinking about how I could take my revenge out on Junior and listening to my Patti Labelle CDs, I thought I heard a knock at the door. I tiptoed to the front door and peeked out of the peephole. Standing on the other side of the door was Ms. Washington and Officer Crawley.
I opened the door. “Is sumf’n wrong, Ms. Washington?”
“Cameron, Officer Crawley here says that he has been trying to reach your mother, but no one answers the phone. Is your mother home?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as they entered the apartment.
Ms. Washington headed towards Mother’s bedroom and knocked on her door. “Hello, Janet,” she said. “It’s Gerdy from next door. Officer Crawley is here, and he would like to speak to you.”
“I think she still might be ’sleep,” I said, as I stood in the living room with Officer Crawley. I hoped they would leave.
Ms. Washington opened the door to Mother’s bedroom and went in. “Oh my God!” she yelled. “Officer Crawley, please call an ambulance.”
Both Officer Crawley and I went into Mother’s room and saw Ms. Washington trying to get my mother out of the bed. Mother looked too weak to even stand. Officer Crawley pulled out his walkie-talkie, and speaking in police jargon, demanded a bus be sent to our address.
Officer Crawley led me out of Mother’s bedroom and closed the door. “Son, why don’t you go out in the living room and wait for the ambulance while we get your mother ready, okay.”
I didn’t know what they were doing in Mother’s bedroom, but in a way, I was hoping that maybe she had died. How
dare she not care or love my sister and me enough to wanna live? If she wanted to die, then so be it.
As strange as it sounds, while I waited out in the living room for the ambulance to take Mother to the hospital and possibly save her life, the only person on my mind was Mr. Jamison. With all the anger and hurt I had been feeling, I had suddenly begun to think about sex. It had been a minute since I’d had that “tingling” feeling. I think it’s the brain that tries to even things out when your mind and body are going through such emotions. It somehow balances everything out, or helps one’s equilibrium, shall I say.
I had to laugh at the thought of feeling a little guilty, because I was so wrapped up into Ray. But then I reminded myself that he was no longer here.
I imagined Mr. Jamison holding me and kissing me and telling me how much he loved me. Suddenly, I snapped out of my embrace with Mr. Jamison because of the loud ambulance siren I heard outside my window.
“Shit!” I said to myself.
The doorbell rang to our apartment. I watched the EMTs carrying medical bags and stretcher exit the ambulance. It was kinda embarrassing as people from the apartments came outside to watch what and who was being carried out.
I pressed the button to allow them to enter the complex, and they ran up the one flight of stairs to my door. They seemed to be in such a hurry as they almost knocked me down as they entered after I opened the door.
“In here, fellas,” Officer Crawley announced, as he opened Mother’s bedroom door.
I stood out in the living room not knowing what to expect as I waited for them to carry Mother out on the stretcher. Would they have the sheet over her? Would they have tubes running in and out of her body the same way they had them running in and out of Ray? Would Mother even be alive, or is she dead?
“Okay, coming through. Watch it, watch it,” I heard one of the EMTs say as they carried Mother through the living room and down the hallway steps.
I stood there frozen. I couldn’t move as I watched them zoom by with Mother on the stretcher. The covers were not over her head, which told me she wasn’t dead, but her facial expression was gaunt-like, and her eyes were rolling around in her head.
