Still Breathing
When Fatboy and Flick reached the hospital, and entered the
waiting lobby, they saw Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen sitting by each other, with
worry written all over their faces.
“Mr. Big, what’s up with Pokey? He gonna be all right, right?”
Flick asked.
As Fatboy sat down beside Mrs. Queen, who was crying silently,
“Mrs. Queen, what the doctor talking ’bout? What’s up with my dog? He gonna be
all right or what?” Fatboy asked.
As he waited for Mrs. Queen to say something, she just looked at
him and began to cry harder. As he reached over and tried to give her a hug of
support, she screamed, “Don’t touch me, don’t you touch me. If it wasn’t for
you and him,” she screamed, pointing at Flick, “my baby wouldn’t be in this
damn hospital fighting for his life. Now get out!” Mrs. Queen screamed.
“Look, Mrs. Queen, I know you’re upset and worried right now, but
I ain’t just gonna up and leave my dog. I’mma be by his side all the way through
this, ’cause I know if it was me lying in the hospital bed fighting for my
life, he would do the same for me,” Fatboy said, watching Mrs. Queen get up and
walk to the other side and have a seat, looking off into space.
“Damn, Mr. Big, why she tripping on us?” Flick asked.
“Look, y’all, that’s her only son and mines too,” Mr. Big said.
When Mr. Big said his too, Fatboy said, “What you just said, Pokey ya son?”
“Yeah, he is,” Mr. Big said. “I was gonna tell him but didn’t know
how to.”
“Well, tell him when he come through,” Flick said.
“I will,” Mr. Big said, placing his face in his hands, as he
started to cry.
“Mr. Big, what’s up with Pokey? Damn, y’all ain’t gonna tell us
shit,” Fatboy said, getting angry.
“Listen, y’all, I know that’s y’all friend, and y’all worried
about him. But that’s my son and hers too. Right now shit hard on us.”
“Man, fuck that shit you talking. Yeah, he ya son, but he our
brother too,” Fatboy said. “We bleed the same blood he bleed, what he going
through in there we going through in here,” Fatboy said, touching his heart.
“So will you just tell us is he okay, or do we have to act a fool in this bitch
and just rush off in the room to see our dog?” Fatboy said, now walking around
in a circle.
“Come on, take a walk with me outside,” Mr. Big said. “I wanna
show y’all something.” As they walked outside, Mr. Big said, “Look at this,”
pointing at the ground. When Fatboy and Flick looked down at the ground, all
they seen was a bunch of red spots, leading from the door to somewhere else.
“So what, what does this have to do with Pokey?” Flick asked.
“Lil nigga, what you looking at is my son’s blood. He lost a lot
of blood on the way over here. And the doctors say it’s not looking good,
’cause we got him here so late. It’s a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll make it.
Look,” Mr. Big said, making his way to his car and opening the door. As he
opened the door, he said, “Look.” When Fatboy and Flick looked inside the car,
they saw blood all over the front seat.
“Damn,” Fatboy said, and that’s when he finally noticed all the
blood on Mr. Big’s clothes. “I guess that’s from him carrying my dog,” Fatboy
was thinking.
“Look y’all, I’m sorry,” Mr. Big said. “I’m pretty sure y’all know
and seen whoever did this, didn’t make it.”
“Yeah, we know, Mr. Big. But it’s nothing we can do to help Pokey,
is it?” Flick asked.
“Yeah, it is, all you can do is pray and hope for the best. He
strong and the doctors said it’s really on him. If he fights, like I hope he
will, he’ll pull through. Right now he’s in a light coma. Every now and then he
moves his fingers when his mother says she loves him, so I’m praying that’s a
good sign,” Mr. Big said.
“Can we see him?” Flick asked.
“Look, right now they working on him. The nigga that beat him in
the head with the gun did a good job. He gotta have stiches, and they said he
gone have a scar for life. If he pulls through, as soon as the doctors let us
in again, y’all can come with us,” Mr. Big said, walking the boys back in the
waiting lobby. When they entered the building, they saw Mrs. Queen, holding
hands with another woman, eyes closed like they were praying or something.
“Damn, I see every time something bad happens, everybody wanna get
all religious, like it’s a God out there who really hears prayer. This shit
crazy,” Fatboy said, taking a seat.
“Look,” Mr. Big said, “it’s probably gonna be a while before we
are allowed in to see Pokey. So if y’all wanna burn up and come back later,
y’all can.”
“Man, you tripping. We gonna sit right here and wait on our dog to
come through,” Flick said. He looked over at Fatboy, who was shaking his head
up and down, saying, “That’s right,” without saying a word.
“That’s fine with me,” Mr. Big said.
“Hey, Mr. Big, can I ask you one question?” Flick said.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Mr. Big replied.
“How come you never told Pokey he had a daddy? Maybe if you would’ve,
he wouldn’t be stuck to a hospital bed right now,” Flick said.
“Shortie, you got a lot to learn, but I’m pretty sure it’s the
same question Pokey will ask once I tell him. So I might as well explain myself
to his friends as well,” Mr. Big said. “Listen, in this life, it’s a lotta
things we will regret but something you can’t help nor change. If I would’ve
knew Pokey was my son for real, half the shit he went through would’ve never
happen. Listen, growing up, I was just like y’all, determined. I wanted the
whole world in my hands. Me and his momma Mrs. Queen, we used to love one
another, but I loved the street life more than I did her, so she up and left.
And even though I was told by my lil brother Sico that she was having my baby,
I never really paid it any attention, until the time I seen y’all at the park.
When I saw this lil nigga, I knew he was my son, so I started doing lil things
to help y’all out. But now I realize it wasn’t the best thing to do, ’cause it
may cost him his life if he don’t pull through. That’s why I’m getting out the
game, ’cause I hope he’ll learn from this and give it up too,” Mr. Big said,
wiping away a tear. “I got enough money for all us to live off of, I just—”
As he was about to say something else, Dr. Van walked into the
waiting room and said, “Mr. Haywood, which is Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen?” looking
around until Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen were standing next to him. “Mr. Haywood and
Mrs. Queen, I’ve come to inform you of your son’s well-being.”
“What is it, Doctor? Is he gonna be all right?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Listen for a moment,” Dr. Van said, “your son took a very bad
beating to the head. As we speak the other doctors are working to remove the
fluid from around his brain, which we already informed you about. If we can
remove all the fluid without any problem, he’ll have a 75 percent chance of
being normal again.”
“And if you can’t remove the fluid from around his brain, then
what?” Mr. Big asked.
“Then his chances of living is none to zero,” Dr. Van said, as he
watched Mrs. Queen fall to the floor and start crying.
“Doctor, please help my baby, please!” she yelled.
“Ma’am, I assure you we are doing all we can to save this young
man’s life,” Dr. Van said.
“When can we see him again?” Mr. Big asked.
“Right now, he is still in a coma. He lost a lot of blood, but
he’s a fighter. Many others would’ve been gave up if they would have took a
beating and lost as much blood as he did. But I can promise you as soon as he’s
outta harm’s way and we got all the fluid removed from his brain, I’ll call
y’all, in to see him. But I want you to remember, he doesn’t look good, due to
there’s a lot of swelling on his face. But if he pulls through, all that will
go down,” Dr. Van said, looking at both parents and feeling sorry for them
both. “Well, let me get back in here and do my job,” Dr. Van said, walking off,
listening to a mother’s cry and remembering a father’s sad look that touched
his heart.
Five and a half hours later, Dr. Van came back out with a lil
smile on his face.
“Mr. and Mrs. Haywood, I have some good news and some bad news.”
“What is it?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Well, we got all the fluid from around his brain,” Dr. Van said.
“So that’s the good news,” Mr. Big said, feeling some relief. “But
what’s the bad news?”
“Well, the bad news is he’s still in a coma, but I’m pretty sure
with the fluid from around his brain, he will wake up soon. I have no timetable
to when, everything is now on him. We sewed up the hole in his head, and
already some of the swelling is about to go down.”
“Well, when can we see him?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Oh, you can go see him in about twenty minutes. They are removing
him from the operating room as we speak,” Dr. Van said.
“Thank you, Doctor. Will it be okay if his two friends come along?
They were there when things went down, and they’re really worried about him,”
Mr. Big said.
“It’s okay with me,” Dr. Van said.
“Okay, let me go tend to another needed patient,” the doctor said,
walking off.
“Fatboy, Flick, come here,” Mr. Big said. “Look, the doctor just
gave us some good news and some bad.”
“What is it, Mr. Big,” Flick asked.
“Well, they removed all the fluid from around his brain, that’s
the good thing, so he’s outta harm’s way.”
“And the bad news?” Fatboy asked.
“Well, he’s still in a coma,” Mr. Big said. “And the doctor said
he has no timetable how long he’ll be like that.”
“But he straight, right?” Fatboy asked.
“Look, all I know is the worst part is over,” Mr. Big said. “Now
it’s on him, how long he wanna sleep,” Mr. Big said, taking a seat, saying a
silent prayer to himself.
Then Mrs. Queen called Fatboy over. “Fatboy, listen, I just wanna
say I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I was just under a lot of stress with
my baby boy being like he was,” Mrs. Queen said.
“That’s all right, Mrs. Queen, I understand,” Fatboy said, giving
her a hug.
“Let’s pray,” Mrs. Queen said to everyone. As she started her
prayer, she was interrupted by Dr. Van, who called out Mr. and Mrs. Haywood.
“Y’all are allowed to see y’all son now. He’s in room B23.”
“Okay, Doc, thanks,” she said, walking off, with Mr. Big, Fatboy,
and Flick on her heels. When she opened the door, she seen her baby lying in
the bed, still as a dead body, with wraps around his head. He didn’t even look
the same. In a few short hours, it seems like Pokey done lost ’bout fifty
pounds, it broke her heart to see him like that. As she made her way to his
bedside, she began to let the tears fall freely. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry this had
to happen to you, I love you so much.” Each and every time she said I love you,
Fatboy notices his dog’s finger move just a little bit. As they all walked to
his bedside and took a look at Pokey, they all thought it would be best to
leave a mother with her son. As they started walking out the door, Mrs. Queen
said, “Look, I know y’all wanna talk to him too, so I won’t be long,” she said.
As she watched them all exit the room and close the door, she began to talk.
“Pokey, I’m sorry I lied to you about your father. I just didn’t wanna lose you
like I lost him by you following in his footsteps. I don’t know what I’ll do if
I lose you. So, baby, fight, fight for me, fight for your friends, fight for
life. I love you, baby,” she said. As she got up from his bedside, she never
noticed his fingers moved. As she made her way to the door, she stopped to look
at her son one last time, before walking out the door.
As she came out, Mr. Big came in, walking with his head down. As
he sat next to his bedside, he grabbed Pokey’s hand and placed it in his. As he
began to talk, a tear escaped his eye. As he let it fall, he said, “Pokey, I
know I haven’t been in your life long, but its seems when I come in your life,
shit like this happen. If you can hear me, I want you to know the life you was
living before this happen, you don’t have to live no more. If you want, you can
come live with me, and I promise shit will be gravvy.” As Mr. Big was about to
say something, he felt Pokey’s fingers move inside his hand. But when he picked
his hand up that was holding Pokey’s hand, it stopped. So he thought it was
just his imagination. Then he got up and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, and
hopefully you’ll be awake,” Mr. Big said, walking out the door to see Fatboy
and Flick standing against the wall.
“Y’all can go on in. I think y’all got ’bout fifteen minutes
before visiting hours over. I’mma go ahead and head home, go get cleaned up,
then I’ll be back,” Mr. Big said, walking off.
As Fatboy and Flick entered the room, they both grabbed a chair
and sat on opposite sides.
“Pok, I know you can hear us, so listen up, hardhead nigga. We
started all this shit together, so you need to wake up so we can finish
building this empire we started as a team together. I’m sorry, dog, we got
caught slipping the way we did. If we was on point none of this shit would’ve
happen. So I hope when you pull through this, you ain’t mad at us. I just want
you to know the niggaz that did this to you are no longer breathing. So, my
nigga, best believe you in a better state than they are,” Flick said, catching
himself before he started shedding tears. “Fatboy, I’mma wait on you outside in
the car,” Flick said.
“All right, dirty, I’ll be there in a minute.” As he watched Flick
walk out the door, he turned back toward his friend. “Pok, nigga you need to
stop bullshitting and come outta dreamland. You know a nigga need you out here
with us. I understand you wanna take a break,” Fatboy said, smiling to himself,
“but you the one said you’ll sleep when you die, and you got a lot of living to
do. So what’s up with all this sleeping? Really though, dog, I’m sorry. I’ve
sat out in the waiting area, wondering why it had to be you and not me. Dog, if
I could change places with you, I would in a heartbeat, but then I know if the shoe
was on the other foot, you’ll be telling me this same shit. Listen, dog, when I
come back up here, you better be awoke, ’cause we got things to do,” Fatboy
said, getting up, squeezing his dog’s hand. As he felt his dog try to squeeze
back, he knew in his heart his dog heard everything he just said, he knew he
would pull through. As he let go off his hand and looked down at his dog, he
whispered, “Much love, my nigga,” before walking out the door.
