“Yo, I’ve known him since he was six,” I said in a graved tone. “When is the funeral?”
“We don’t know yet. We want niggas to show Tyriq and his family mad support.”
“I’m definitely wit’ that,” I said hugging Spoon.
My mother came down the stairs in her blue scrubs, on her way to work. She saw Spoon in the living room and smiled. “Timothy, I haven’t seen you in a long time. How you been?” she greeted Spoon with a hug.
“I’m okay Mrs. Grey.”
“That’s good. You’re looking good, staying out of trouble?”
“Yes ma’am. Just stop by to say hello. How’re you, Mrs. Grey?”
“I’m good, thanks for asking,” my mother said, smiling. “Well, I’m off to work.”
My mother hugged Spoon. Then she hugged me and kissed me on my cheek. “Remember, Vincent, it’ll happen in Gods’ time.”
She walked to the door. Before leaving, she looked at the both of us and said, “I will keep the both of you in my prayers.”
“Your mom’s alright, Vince. You think she knows about me and the streets?”
“I don’t know.”
I knew she suspected that he was dealing. His style of dress wasn’t as flashy but it was definitely expensive.
Spoon sported a diamond encrusted Presidential Rolex. In both ears he had huge diamond studded earrings that looked like golf balls.
“Vince, I need to be out. We’ll get up later and talk.”
“No doubt,” I said.
I watched him get into a baby blue Range Rover and drove off.
Four
Thomas’ funeral was large. It was held at J Foster Phillips funeral home on Linden Blvd. Hundreds of folks came by and showed support for Tyriq and his family. Thomas was loved and respected. He would be missed.
I showed up in a black suit and wing-tipped shoes, looking my best for his home-going. I was alone navigating my way through the crowd that lingered around outside.
Inside, I saw Spoon standing with a group of fellows wearing black T-shirts with Thomas’ picture on the front. The picture showed Thomas with cornrows throwing up some gang signs. It was a quick memorial put together for him. Over two dozen young men were wearing the T-shirt.
Spoon nodded and I walked over to him. I hugged him and asked for Tyriq. He pointed inside. Folks were viewing the body. It was a full house.
I spotted Tyriq sitting quietly with his family staring at his brother in the casket. He was unflustered, sitting next to his mother in a three-piece suit. As I walked over to view the body, I remembered the last time I saw Thomas alive. It was six months ago at a club on Farmers Blvd. He was with his girlfriend and was happily spending money. He bought me a drink then we went our separate ways.
Lying inside a white sealer, gold cross casket surrounded by dozen of elegant, sympathy flowers and pictures, Thomas looked like he was sleeping. I glanced at Tyriq, he nodded and I went on my way. I wanted to talk but now wasn’t the time.
The funeral went on and I thought of how my own funeral would turn out. Would there be as many people?
“You out…?” Spoon asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be at the burial tomorrow morning.”
“Take care,” Spoon said giving me dap.
I stepped outside unloosening my tie and smiled when I saw two familiar faces standing on the corner. One was smoking a cigarette. It was Asia and Susan. I walked over. Asia was smiling and cheerful. She hugged me tightly. It’s been seven years since I saw them. Susan was pregnant.
“Vince, you look so good,” Asia greeted, her arms wrapped around me.
“How many months are you?” I asked Susan while still hugging Asia.
“Seven,” she replied rubbing her belly.
“Tyriq’s the father?” I asked.
She nodded.
They both looked good. Asia was wearing tight denim jeans and jacket while Susan wore a long teal dress. We talked for a moment. There were no hard feelings. Years had passed and pussy was on my mind.
I looked into Asia’s eyes and she stared back smiling. We were both thinking the same thing. Asia turned to Susan and said, “I’m gonna catch up on lost time with Vince.”
“Just make sure you don’t end up like me.” Susan smiled rubbing her belly.
I laughed.
An hour later, I had Asia stretched out in the backseat with one foot propped against the passenger headrest and the other against the backseat. I was pressed against her, sucking on her nipples, thrusting like a mad man and about to cum in her. It definitely felt like old times again.
The next morning, I stood quietly among the other three dozen mourners in Montefiore Cemetery and witnessed the burial of Thomas.
The pastor held a bible in his hand and proceeded with the burial. He was clad in grey suit and had a thick, white beard. He stood next to the casket and made the benediction.
“Now I have left you, for a little while. Please do not grieve and shed wild tears, and hug your sorrow to you through the years. But start out bravely with a gallant smile; and for my sake and in my name, live and do all things the same. Feed not your loneliness on empty days. But fill each useful hour in useful ways. Reach out your hand in comfort and cheer, and I, in turn, will comfort you and cheer holding you near. Never, never be afraid to die; I am waiting for you in the sky.”
It was a sun drenched day. Thomas cousin, Latoya was next to me and she was sobbing quietly. The dark shades she wore could not hide her tears. Clutching my hand, she stared at her cousin’s casket being lowered into the ground.
Tyriq was a statue, not moving during the entire ceremony. He wore designer shades and was gangster in a tailor-made black pin-stripe suit. His crew surrounded him and they all were dressed in black. The preacher continued.
“May Thomas Green rest in peace and find comfort in the Lord. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, we return this body back to the dust…Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said.
Crying and grieving was heard as the casket was lowered into the ground, with the women of his family wailing the loudest.
I kissed the rose in my hand and tossed it on the casket. Walking away, thinking death was an easy way out. I was in a fucked-up situation, out of a job and having to ask my mother for money.
I felt like a zero. Not being able to take care of my responsibilities was a hard nut to swallow. Tyriq walked over to where I was standing looking at black birds.
“Ayyite, thanks for coming, Vince. I appreciate it,” he said.
“Thomas was like a brother to me too. I’m here for you, Tyriq.” I said as we hugged.
“It’s been a minute. What you been up to?” He nodded and asked.
“Unemployed…”
“You ain’t at the airport?”
“9/11 fucked that up. I was one of the first to get cut. Goddamn Ben-Laden fucked shit up.”
“Damn man, what you planning to do?”
“I can’t call it. I’ve been job hunting. Ain’t nuthin’ happening so far.”
“I