“Ain’t shit I can tell them. Shit! You don’t tell me a goddamn thang! Na-Na, you don’t even want me to know where you rest your head! That’s fucked up!” His protest was obviously loud because the room seemed to have gotten quiet and the guy next to him lowered his phone and looked Akeem’s way.
“We’re not going through this again, Keeme. The last time I came we argued about this until it was time for me to leave. We’re not going through this shit again! You don’t need to know where I live until you get out.”
“What if something—” he attempted, but I interrupted him knowing where he would go with that same sad song.
“What if something happens to me? Is that what you were going to ask, Keeme? What the hell could you do from here? Huhn? What? You can’t do a damn thing. Like I told you before, if something were to happen to me you’d be notified and compensated.”
“Compensated? See, what does that shit mean?” His voice was so deep that I had to remember my brother was a man now, not the young adolescent I used to argue with about stealing my food from the refrigerator.
“If the time comes you’ll know. If it doesn’t then you won’t need to, right?” I gave him an intense gaze. I didn’t want to fight, I wanted to reconnect with him. “Keeme, what else is going on? I’ve missed you. I couldn’t wait to come to see you.” I tried to fight back the tears.
“Shit! Yo’ ass should be missing me! I ain’t see you in a minute. What the fuck took you so long? I thought something happened to yo’ ass! Now you talking all this crazy shit about compensating and shit! Did you finish school?” he pried.
“Yes, Keeme. I told you when I was here last year during my spring break that I was graduating in May. I’m even done with grad school now. I’ve already started work in my field.”
“Damn, girl! You really doin’ ya thing. I’m proud of you. So what you get your degree in? Getting ghost?” he asked being facetious.
“I got my Master’s in… You swear not to tell anybody, Keeme?” I asked with cautious eyes.
“Here we go with this secretive bullshit again. You better hurry up girl, we ain’t got all day!”
I snapped my neck at him expressing my seriousness and forcing him to agree.
“Okay, girl!”
“I am a Physical Therapist. I’m even running a practice.”
“Damn! That’s whassup! You’re finally done with school?”
“Yes, Keeme. What girls do you have coming to see you in here? Who visits you?” I asked out of curiosity and to change the subject. The guilt that I felt from being responsible for my brother never being able to dream outside these prison walls was unbearable.
“Ain’t no bitches coming to see me that you know of. I meet broads through my boys in here. But you know how it is, out of sight out of mind,” he spoke somberly. My heart twisted in my chest. “J-Boog sister Renee was coming to see me for a minute then stopped. They don’t even send cards like they used to when I first came up in this bitch.” Akeem snorted. That must be tough to chew on. “Grams brought Pops to see me for the last time last Christmas. That was funny as hell. That nigga didn’t even know what to say. I was looking at him like Yeah, nigga. I’m flesh of your flesh and blood of your goddamn blood. It’s yo’ muthafuckin’ fault that I’m in this bitch. He’s a straight bitch, Na-Na. A straight bitch! I hate that muthafucka.” I silently choked on my tears. I understood the sentiment.
“I wrote Grams and told her not to bring his gay ass up here no more. I ain’t no damn freak show!” Akeem’s features wrinkled, I could tell he was struggling with his next thought. “But he didn’t look good. Grams said that nigga sick. I said good for his ass. Fuck’em!” Akeem seethed. I hated seeing him out of sorts but discussing our father would do that to the both of us.