Page 39 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“I have a business idea I’ve been tinkering around with, Ranson, if you want to hear my pitch. It will make millions,” Uncle Scoop says.
“Uncle Scoop, please,” Lyric laments.
“What? The nigga invests money in Black businesses all the time, and this idea is a goldmine. So, check this out, you know how you have to pee in the middle of the night, but you don’t want to get up?”
“I guess,” Ranson replies.
“Well, my idea is like a pocket-sized toilet. It’s a contraption you connect to your wing-wang or hoo-ha, and you pee in, then when you wake up, you can dump the waste later.”
“Uncle Scoop, that’s gross,” Jamar cringes.
“And that already exists. You basically just described a catheter,” Big Head says.
“Naw, but this is different. Y’all just don’t get the vision,” Uncle Scoop complains.
Ranson leans into Lyric with his lips close to her ear. “I love your family.”
“I knew you would.” She smiles.
Ranson wakesup the next morning and heads to the shower. He’s not about to be caught slipping. He set his alarm clock for 3:30 a.m.
Ranson kisses Lyric on her forehead as she sleeps, before slipping downstairs.
He has on jeans and a Henley with a pair of sneakers and a light jacket. He’s making breakfast sandwiches with bacon, eggs and cheese when he hears a door closing. Next, he hears the shuffle of feet and looks to see where it’s coming from.
“Hey, Lyric’s man. It’s time,” a gruff voice says.
Ranson looks down and sees Gigi.
“Ms. Gigi?—”
“Gigi! It’s just Gigi, nigga. Damn.”
“Sorry. But I can’t help you.”
“You really going to let me die without having one last taste of shine. It was my husband’s specialty. He taught our boys and our grandkids to make it. It’s all I have left of him.”
“Dang, really? You gon’ hit me with a guilt trip?”
“Is it working?”
“I guess. But I don’t know where the shine is, so I can’t help you anyway.”
“I found out it’s in the garage. We just have to get it. Now, c’mon.”
They enter the garage. Ranson looks around and sees a jar with a clear liquid on a high shelf. He grabs the jar and hands it to her as the lights come on, and Uncle Doc, Big Head, Jamar and Eckhart stand in the doorway of the garage. All of them snickering.
“Alright, Big Head. I owe you twenty bucks,” Uncle Doc says.
“I told you she’d get him to do it.” Big Head shakes his head.
The men all laugh at them.
9
RANSON
Ranson sits in between Big Head and Jamar. Three large men squeezed into one car is not how he enjoys traveling, but Uncle Doc insisted they take one car. Apparently, Jamar’s girlfriend broke up with him and left. There’s concern he might wander off and talk to ladies, if left unsupervised for too long. Uncle Doc believes it will be easier to corral him into one car then let him drive by himself.
