delirium (sequel to apathy)

15

          15

Gathering all the letters off the table, I nearly tripped over the desk chair trying to get out of Dad's room. I raced up the stairs, heading straight the Grandpa's room. I banged on the door first, but I soon realized that it was open. I pushed open the door, Grandpa fast asleep, snoring loud enough to cause an avalanche. I came over to him, placing the letters on the bedside table. I began to shake him, which only made Grandpa groan, then roll over - away from me.

Sucking my teeth, I got on the bed, shaking him harder.

"Grandpa come on, wake your ass up," I mumbled.

I heard him mumble a strain of curse words, and he began to wake up, staring at me like I was crazy. He stared at me, and sat up, pushing me away.

"Damn boy, what do you want?"

I smiled at him, handing him the letters from off of the table. He raised his eyebrows at me, beginning to shift through the letters, his eyes widening as he scanned over some of them. Then he looked at me, starting to smirk. I raised my eyebrows at him, starting to lean towards him. He pushed me away by my head, his big hand nearly covering my whole facee. 

"No wonder you're mother got pregnant so early..Daddy's a smooth talker, huh? Using Spanish and everything.."

I grimaced.

"That's disgusting."

Grandpa shrugged, "Oh well, but what am I supposed to be looking at?"

I took the letters from him, looking for the one to Martin, and Martin's response. I handed it to him, folding the rest of the letters up. I watched him intently, Grandpa's eyebrows knitting together, then apart. He briefly looked at me, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Maybe he was thinking the same thing I was, that Dad had asked for Martin's help, and that he betrayed Dad's trust, then used Mom for his own sick benefit. Then, there was Marten, who had full knowledge that Mom existed, and that she was with Dante. 

Maybe Marten wanted revenge.

But X said that Martin could've been alive, but that doesn't mean that if he was alive, that everything was all well. Martin could be brain dead, on a ventilator. 

"I knew something was up about this..there was no way in hell Martin simply picked Monae out of nowhere and she just so happened to look like Monique."

Grandpa got off the bed, handing me back the letters. He stood before me, staring me down. I could tell that he was thinking hard about something, from the look on his face. He placed his hands on my shoulder, locking eyes with me. 

"Amir, you have to be committed to this, alright? One false move, and you're done. You understand?"

I nodded, "I understand, Grandpa." 

"Well then, welcome to training, little killa." 

For the next two months, Grandpa and Romelo worked me to the bone, almost every day. I don't remember there being a day where my body didn't ache, or I didn't feel like I hadn't gotten ran over by a tractor trailer. It was tiring, being woken up out of a good sleep at six am, to go red around the house - fifteen times. At one point I was pulling myself along, getting a mouthful of grass as I did so. 

They worked me like a damn slave. 

But there was an upside to it too. I could feel myself getting stronger, as the workouts were becoming easier and easier. I didn't feel tired so much anymore, and at one point, it was actually becoming fun. I mean, I was learning a lot, everything from how to hold a gun, and all of the names, and ammo they take. It was pretty interesting, really. I had no clue that all of this came along with making a plan. 

"Come on Amir, shoot the fucking target, it's barely even moving!" Ramiro yelled at me. 

"Shut the fuck up, I'm trying, damn!" I yelled back at him, focusing on the target. This nigga was blind, because the fucking target was all over the place, moving like a chicken with it's head cut off. There was no way in hell that I was going to be able to get it. I had no clue why I was even doing this, I knew damn well a person couldn't move as fast as this. I was ready to just start firing bullets like no tomorrow. 

"Just focus, King. It's not that hard," I heard Grandpa say. "You don't have to hit it in the center. If this was a person, a gunshot to the arm would be enough to slow them down." 

I nodded, following him tips. I focused on getting the side of the target, instead of the center. 

I fired a round, and it hit the side. Ramiro stopped the moving on the target, looking at me like I was retarded. 

"Nigga, the center! Not the side-" 

"Ramiro, calm yourself. King did alright," Grandpa told him, Ramiro responding by waving him off, "Whatever. Nigga still can't shoot for shit." 

"I doubt you would be able to shoot that target either, bet." 

"Oh shut the hell up, Momma's boy."

Grandpa chuckled as Ramiro and I talked shit to each other, following behind us as we left the target practice room. 

"Mad, or nah? Bitch nigga."

Ramiro bucked at me, and I pushed him, dashing into the kitchen. He tried to grab my shirt, but he missed me by a little bit. "Gotta catch me, slow ass!"

"Nigga, you ain't shit." 

Grandpa stepped in between Ramiro and I, getting my attention. 

"Don't forget, call your momma. She wanted to talk to you." 

Besides the workout and the practice., Mom's been keeping me updated on the baby and how Dad's doing. Mom said that she found out what the baby was, but she wasn't going to tell me. About Dad, she said that he was doing well, and that the doctor's say he should be out of his coma soon. Hopefully, I'm all finished with this and can go home just in time to see Mom have her baby and Dad get out of his coma, but who knows. 

"Look at this nigga, you used to look like a stick!" 

I rolled my eyes at Blade, sighing as I sat down on the couch. Out on the table in front of me was an outline of the plan, and how we were going to execute it. So far, there was only one thing crossed off the top was my training, to become stronger and have a little more "meat on my bones". We were trying to figure out how I was going to become "known", and catch Marten's attention. 

"I say that you find some of his associates and start slangin' to them." 

Grandpa sucked his teeth, smacking Blade in the back of the head. 

"Do you know what his mother will do to me if I did that? That's like sending him out into war without ammo, dumbass." 

Blade sighed, looking up at Grandpa. "Well, mastermind, what do you have in mind?" 

"I know one the spots where one of Marten's associates hangs around," He smirked, sitting down next to me. He crossed his arms behind his head, looking at Blade and I. "When I tell you that this man will take anything, he'll take anything." 

I gave Grandpa my full attention, and Blade did the same. "Well spit it out, nigga!" Blade urged, and I nodded, agreeing. Grandpa closed his eyes, starting to smile. When he opened his eyes, he locked eyes with me, looking me over.

"We'll hit up Marten's associate, Maurice. He owns a club, the Lit Cigar."