Page 23 of Taming a Menace
“I appreciate that, bro, but I got it from here.”
“I can’t fucking tell. You got your ass on your shoulders because you got kicked out of your class for being late. We need you to do everything in your power to stay the fuck out here, bro.”
“I don’t need to hear that right now, Kross. I’m in a shitty enough mood.”
“When are you not?”
“Well this is not the exception. I’m walking out the house right now to go see Franklin’s dog ass.”
“Let me know what I can do to help,” he offered.
“Aside from going into sniper mode and taking him out while I’m in his office so I can remove whatever files he got on me?”
“Aside from that. I’m trying to stay on the right side of the law as much as possible. I advise you to do the same.”
“I’m working on it, bro.”
“In the meantime, be on the lookout for a few calls. A couple of Doc’s associates have been looking for someone with your expertise.”
“Cool, if I make it out of the parole office, I want to swing by and holler at you about something. I have an idea I want to run by you.”
“Whenyou leave, just come through.”
“Have them horses put up. I don’t feel like they remember me. The bigger one was grilling me like hell the last time I came through.”
He laughed. “My dogs have excellent memories. He ain’t forgot none of that shit you used to talk.”
“Whatever, man. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way.”
I raised my arms over my head, stretching as I stood from the couch. There was no use in prolonging the time. I found it was best to face your obligations head on. If I had to go back to prisonover a stupid ass class that wasn’t even benefitting me then that was just what I had to do.
As much as I hated to go back to prison, I was ready to put all this shit behind me so I could live my life. I was tired of being under somebody’s thumb. I didn’t see why I had to take the class anyway. It would be different if they actually worked. None of the things they told me to use as coping mechanisms had ever worked.
At this point, I was comfortable staying away from people as much as possible. There were a select few that knew how I moved. Those were the only people I needed to see on a regular basis.
For whatever reason, when I worked private jobs, I was usually able to temper my mood enough that I could tolerate people. It was working for and with other people that irked the hell out of me. My late shift at Sonny’s kept me hidden in the back where I didn’t have to deal with anyone unless they came to the back fucking with me like ol’ boy had a few nights ago.
Once I was out of the house and headed to the parole office, my nerves went into overdrive. It sucked for someone else to have my life in their hands. I liked being the only one to control my life. No one else knew what it took to be me. No one else could relate to my struggle to maintain control at all costs.
Franklin didn’t know shit about life or hardship. He had never taken a major loss or been hurt or abused by someone who was supposed to have their best interests in mind. All he knew was to go by that fucking book that told him to violate and take niggas’ freedom every chance he got.
By the time I made it to the office, I was furious. It didn’t help that I hadn’t eaten a damn thing. Being hungry only fueled my fire. I took a few deep breaths like they told me in those sessions before switching off my truck and getting out. I said a silentprayer that I didn’t break my mom’s heart again as I walked through the door.
There was never a shortage of people standing behind the glass not doing a damn thing while there was a lobby full of people waiting. I wasn’t surprised that there was a full house today. It was nine forty-five. I was a little early, but I hoped to be out of there soon. I didn’t play about time, so I was really irked that being late for my anger management sessions might be the cause of my freedom being snatched up again. I stood at the counter for a full two minutes before one of the Bozos on the other side acknowledged my presence.
“How can I help you, sir?” a woman with a gray, braided bob asked.
“I have an appointment with Franklin Lemon at ten this morning.”
“Sign in,” she said, pointing at the clipboard half full of scribbled names.
After signing in on the eleventh line, I turned and scanned the room for an empty seat. I crossed the room and plopped down in the first chair I came to. Once I was seated, I pulled up my phone to check my email. Kross had mentioned that I needed to start checking it. I didn’t normally worry about emails and messages.
Anyone wanting to do business with me used to call. I liked talking to a person to get clarity on their expectations and make sure that we were on the same page. It took a second for me to remember the password to my email since it had been so long since I logged in. Once I finally got in, my eyes bugged when I saw that I had at least three requests for consultations. I guess it was a good thing that I checked.
I clicked on the oldest message first. It was from a week ago. There was someone having a bridal shower. She wanted catering for twenty-five. The shower was a little over a month away,which was just enough time to get things in order. The lady was requesting a self-serve buffet style which was my favorite to do aside from one on one. This would be a good start. I sent her a quick reply asking if she preferred to call or meet in person to work out the details.
As I typed, a man came out and called for everyone attending the drug class to follow him. That was one more thing that I could be grateful for. Aside from a little recreational use of marijuana, I had been able to remain drug free. There were a lot of good dudes that I had known over the years that had fallen victim to the struggle.
