Page 20 of All The Smoke
After washing my hands, I headed to the front door, finding my pops there waiting impatiently. I could see the attitude all over his face.
“Could you have taken any longer?” he asked, pushing past me to enter my crib.
“Actually I could have, considering you just popped up here.”
He made his way to the living so I followed him, falling onto the couch I was asleep on before he called. I still had half a blunt left from earlier in the ashtray on my coffee table, so I grabbed it and my lighter.
“You really need to stop all of your foolishness,” he said, face twisted in disgust referring to the blunt.
“My name is Smoke for a reason.” I smirked.
“Your name is Solomon and you’d think you’d have more respect for your father.”
“Oh, you my pops tonight?” I angled my head to the side. “You not the bishop tonight?”
“I’m always the bishop,” he replied.
“Right and hardly ever my fucking father.” I shook my head. “What is it,Bishop?”
“I spoke to your brother’s lawyer,” he said, catching me completely off guard. Since Noah had gotten knocked they hadn’t wanted shit to do with him or the situation so the last thing I expected him to say was he’d spoken to him.
“For what?”
“I mean he is my son.” He frowned, swatting some of the smoke away.
“Oh, I know that, just figured you’d forgotten that.”
“Anyway, he went over his case with me…”
“And?”
“And it’s pointless to continue to waste money on this, son,” he responded. “Noah was caught red handed and?—”
“Naw, no the fuck he wasn’t caught red fucking handed,” I snapped, cutting him off.
“The officers said?—”
Just that quickly he infuriated me so I cut him off again. “I don’t give no fucks what the officer said, Bishop, and I don’t give a fuck what the lawyer said either if he not talking getting my brother out. I know my brother and I know he ain’t have shit to do with no armed robbery and kidnapping.”
“He was driving the car, Solomon.”
“And them niggas jumped in his shit and held him at gunpoint,” I barked. “Fuck was he supposed to do other than comply?”
“I know that’s what he told you…”
“Naw, that’s what the fuck I know,” I growled. “I’ve known and been around him my entire life and I know what he would and wouldn’t fuck with and that bullshit ain’t it.”
I was fuming on the inside. I hated how all it took was some bitch ass cops to tell him and my mother a story and they ran with the shit. Fuck the fact that they were his parents and had raised him. Fuck the fact that he was their flesh and blood. Fuck the fact that they raised him and had common sense, at least I thought they did. They just needed to hear that he fucked up ,and it was going to blemish this perfect little image they were trying to uphold, and they flipped quicker than a fucking switch.
“Solomon, there’s no need for you to get this worked up…”
“Yeah, it is though, Bishop,” I snapped. “I’m the only one riding for him, and he’s all of our fucking flesh and blood. Heyo’ fuckin’ son and you gon’ believe the word of all these other mothafuckas over him. That’s nasty work, Bishop.”
“You want us to argue with the proof, Solomon?”
“I wanted you and Ma to be the same supportive parents that sat with me in family court and shit when I was wildin’ as a lil nigga to him.” I shook my head. “I was the only one that showed up for him when he was on trial. I’m still the only one that shows up for him.”
Neither of our parents had gone to visit him since he’d been locked up, only me and Solo. If it was my son I would be there from beginning to end, fighting tooth and nail whether he was guilty or not. He didn’t get that shit and I didn’t get it. Shit came naturally to me, but we weren’t all built the same, I guess.
