Educational Experience

Part III--Chapter 20

This goes up with a bit less editing than I usually do. I'm doing my own "Nanowrimo" thing, pushing through to the end come hell or high water. I want the emotions to stay raw. And I'll also be taking a brief trip this weekend, so I'm trying to get as much of the final chapters done as possible before that.

Hopefully, there aren't too many crazy typos and such, because this chapter was such a joy to write! I may have used the song I've chosen before, though. In fact, I may have used it in a recent chapter. I'm not entirely sure, buI remember researching it on YouTube. Even so, it fits here, so forgive. And it ROCKS after the slightly corny intro. I'll be checking for that kind of repetition in my first full edit.

Onward! And enjoy!

You should've seen the car she had waiting for me, Lakesha. Snazzy white Escalade. That pearly white, you know? Muy suave. Top o' the line.

The kind I used to think only drug dealers and pimps had because where I come from they're the only ones who could afford one. And they went in for that color, those guys. To look all holy when they took Moms to church in on Sundays, you know? Kinda like those off white wedding dresses women wear when they're not exactly virgins.

She pointed to it proudly when we got outside. It was the last car in this little line of cars waiting to take patients home when they were released. And believe me, most of the other cars were nothing like hers.

The graduates of the school of hard knocks came out at that time of night. Some heart attacks and strokes, yes, because the nurses told me they tend to happen at night for some reason. And a few people injured on the job. Hard night jobs.

But the majority seemed to be guys who'd got shot or shanked in fights. And trembly looking ones trying to scam some dope to tide them over 'til they could scrape up enough to get their drugs of choice.

Coupla gutter punky kids who'd swallowed something stupid and almost died. Lesbian girls.One had cut up her foot real bad somehow, too. She screamed like a banshee in the triage room while they were checking that out. All these choice four-letter words that none of the nurses or doctors even seemed to hear. They hear a lot worse, probably, every day.

And there was this one pregnant woman who walked out just ahead of us and looked like she was walking on eggshells all the way to the truck outside waiting for her.

I really didn't like the look of the guy driving. He had what I call "time bomb" eyes. Like any minute he'd go bat shit crazy on you, right? So I felt like she was there because he hit her or something. I could see their whole lives in the way she walked over to that truck so timid and tense. And I wished they weren't bringing a kid into it. So he could beat on it, too.

But I fought my mind off that and back to my own kids and the big, sexy Escalade we were approaching.

And when I went, "Where'd you get this?" she gave me this big old grin and said, "I got it for you."

Which is when this real buff black dude got out and helped her help me in. He was a very interesting character. He had some of those fancy cornrows laid out in this cool pattern, and his t-shirt and jeans were expensive but hanging gangsta loose.

There were also a lot of prison tats on his face and neck. So I was hoping this wasn't her man, you know? I didn't want to be worrying about her all the time. Or to have to kick his ass one day.

Lakesha hopped in back with me and said, "This my cousin Jamal. I axed 'im to come cause I couldn' let you be ridin' around in some lil hoopty. After that helicopter 'n' all."

Jamal glanced at us in the mirror. He didn't smile or anything. But he didn't look mad. I think he was just checking to see who this dude was that got him out of bed at such a ridiculous hour.