Stuck On A Bad Nigga: A Baltimore Love Story by Chanel Q

Author:Chanel Q [Q, Chanel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

D’Shawn

Mama cooked goat curry, chicken patties and callaloo. I don’t reckon there was a better chef nowhere else in the whole of the city. It was my first meal back with the fam since going inside, and there was a kind of silence in the air like no-one knew how to begin. Since pop died, I was the only man in the house amongst a group of other woman, and they made it known too, like because of that I had some kind of additional responsibilities.

We had Mama, my two younger sisters, Laticia and Rachelle, and my great grandmother Anna-lise, who looked like she was a hundred and twenty years old. She sat in the corner like some bad-assed, voodoo Jamaican spirit and refused to die, even though both of her daughters and both of their husbands already did. She had to have her food mashed up before she ate it, she’d go through half a bottle of rum a day and could have beaten any nigga in an arm wrestle if they ever had the balls to bet her on it. I ain't frontin’ on that neither, she had arms as big as Marco’s. She didn’t say much, but when she did, you knew you better sit up an’ listen.

Mama slopped curry into my bowl and dropped it down in front of me with nothing but a snarl on her face. Something was up. I could tell by that look she gave me. This wasn’t the welcome back party a nigga expected from his family.

When Ma was done serving up all the bowls, she sat down, clasped her hands together and said grace. Even though my sisters and I never joined in, she always said it just outta tradition. This time she said,

“Thank you God, for bringing D’Angelo safely back to us, even though he still a stupid nigga.”

Ma always called me D’Angelo even though everybody else called me D’Shawn, which was a kind of nickname my pop gave me after a badass nigga runner from back in the day with the same name.

“Amen”, Anna-Lise said, spitting mashed up curry out onto her tray.

“Mama.”

“Don’t you Mama me, D’Angelo. I never raised you to be a stupid nigga, I ain't sure what happened afterwards. You take a good look at your sisters, you think they stupid niggas? I don’t think so. You think I’m a stupid nigga? You think your great gran’mama Anna-Lise got to where she did by being a stupid nigga?”

“Mama”, I said again. I knew there weren’t no way of stopping her tirade. It was like a hurricane, you just had to sit it out and hope you were still alive at the end of it.

“I did all I could to put sense into that head of yours, and look how you done turned out. Just like your damn papi, God rest his soul.”

“I’m here aren’t I? I ain't inside no more.”

“Nigga, when are you gonna start taking control of your own life?”

“Mama, I didn’t come here for a lecture.

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