his wounded head as the crowd opened up to let DJ through.
DJ paid for the room that had seen better days like twenty years ago, but he had to work with what he had. He took a shower and put the same tight ass sweat suit back on, which he also felt was too tight and made note to buy something else more lose. He made it back outside where the young nigga’s were at slanging dope and drinking in the parking lot. He hoped he didn’t have to go through it with the young cats again because of their ego problems.
He stepped outside and everyone was looking at him, but no one stepped to him with the bullshit. He was happy and went walking towards the last house he knew. On his way to 2nd Avenue, he was looking at all the familiar things to him and the shit he didn’t remember. When he got to the house, he instantly got butterflies in his stomach. What would he say to his daughter and what would his ex-wife say to him since she divorced him after his conviction? Fuck that bitch, because this was about his daughter now.
He made it to the stairs, then the porch and knocked a few times at the door. When he saw the older lady approaching the door, he knew there had to be some type of mistake.
“Yes! May I help you?” the older white lady said.
“Um! There must be some type of mistake. Does a Mrs. Johnson live here with a little girl named Daisy?” The old white lady said, “I’m sorry sir, but don’t no one by those names live here. I’ve been living here for eight years now.”
DJ was stuck for a minute and it felt like someone had punched him in the ribcage because all the air was lifted from his body. “I’m sorry for bothering you and I thank you for your help. You have a good day.”
DJ was lost for a minute, but then thought about going to Daisy’s grandmother’s house, which she stayed on Mt. Washington next to the projects. He made his way up the long hill and went past the basketball courts that he use to play on with his boys. It was now packed with a lot of cars on the grass and loud music screaming out of the speakers, which he found everywhere he went pass. The young kids were balling and he really wanted to see what skills the boys had to offer but he had to find his daughter and find her soon.
He finally made it up the hill getting closer to the projects and it was tore up more than he had remembered but what projects aint fucked up? As DJ got closer, he could see a group of people standing on the corner and some people even pushing each other and crying at the same time. As DJ approached the crowd, he saw a young man lying on the ground with a big hole in his young body. Blood was all over the pavement and even on some of the people. You could hear the sirens in the background getting louder with every step he took. He just looked and knew that times had changed in the country he left behind thirteen years ago.
He finally made it to Mrs. Flower's house and it was wild how almost everything had changed besides the house Mrs. Flowers lived in. It was exactly how he last remembered it. A well kept yard with flowers all over and the porch, which was caged in by the screen. He went to knock on the screen door and it took a while for someone to come, but it was someone he recognized and he was happy for that.
A little frail lady came to the door with a pretty smile on her face. “Yes! May I help you young man?” Once she got the chance to see the face and the body of a god she just put her hands to her mouth and said, “Oh my God.”
DJ sat behind the screen just looking at the older lady and said, “Yes! Mrs. Flowers, it’s me.”
Mrs. Flowers said, “Baby! Please forgive me. Come right in and give me a hug.” He walked in the house and gave the little lady a hug. If you were standing behind him you wouldn’t have seen the little lady at all.
Mrs. Flowers said, “Damon, you look so good and I am so happy to see you. I want you to understand that I never believed one word of that, and I’ve been waiting to write to you but a lot of things have happened since you left. Maybe you should sit down.” He went to sit down and before he could get a word out she went to talking. “DJ, you know I lost Cliff about six years ago and I’m here alone in this house now but there is more loss in my life.”
DJ said, “Mrs. Flowers, I’m sorry for your loss but could you please tell me where to find Daisy at? I long for her and I need to see her.”
Mrs. Flower’s face had fallen to sadness and she said, “Damon . . . . . . she’s dead. She was found dead at the playground on 2nd Avenue last summer. No one knows who did it and ain't no one saying anything about it. Baby, I’m sorry.”
DJ sat there zoned out and all the feelings in his big body had vanished after he heard she was dead. Nothing else meant anything to him after that. Tears began to fall down his face and all types of shit popped in his mind, why did all this happen to him? What did he do wrong in life to make God do this to him? DJ felt he was a good man with nothing but good intentions and like a thief in the night, his whole life was just snatched from him. Now he was dealt this final blow that he knew would change his life. Death was all he had on his mind and someone was going to answer for this.
When he came back to earth Mrs. Flowers was standing there with a napkin calling his name. “Damon, baby. Damon, baby.” He grabbed the napkin and sat at the table, just wanting the tears to fall because this would be the last time he would shed them.
“I have to leave Mrs. Flowers and I promise you, I’ll find out who took my baby from me. I promise you that.”
He went to get up and leave when Mrs. Flowers told him to hold on. She came back with a tore up old Kermit the Frog doll with one of the eyes missing and gave it to him. “This was Daisy’s favorite she always said her father gave her this. She slept with it every night and you should keep it.”
He grabbed the stuffed green thing and remembered when she asked for it right before he left for the Army. He smelled the doll and it smelled of a young innocent girl. A girl he loved and would kill for.
One thing the Army taught him was to control his anger and not to let the anger control him. People who lived on emotions usually made the wrong move and it would cause them trouble in the end. DJ kissed Mrs. Flowers and thanked her as he left. He wouldn’t live out his emotions but someone would pay for his pain and loss
CHAPTER THREE
ME AND SPLIF went to take care of some business with some nigga on 105th who we had been dealing with for some time. I was tired and had to get home and the drive was kind of long. I just purchased a three hundred and fifty thousand dollar house out in Rock River and I was very proud to have something like it. Coming from the projects to living in a house as beautiful as this, was a plus. I lived in the suburbs of Cleveland where a lot of doctors and lawyers lived. Didn’t too many black people live out there unless you were some type of pro sports figure or drug dealer such as myself. I had a wife and two little girls, who I took very good care of. My wife be tripping some times when I come in the house late, and she knew what the fuck was what but she had to try to put her foot down sometimes. My little girls were six and four and were just as beautiful as their mother who was half black and Irish.
I pulled up in the driveway and I saw the bedroom light was still on. It was almost three in the morning and I knew this bitch wanted to fight. I had my phone off all night because I didn’t want to be bothered. Now she thinks I was out with some other bitch, which I did sometimes, but today I was legit. What am I supposed to do tell her I had to dump a body in the lake and that’s why I was late? Fuck it!
After I pulled the car into the garage next to her Land Rover, I bought her, I could hear her coming down the stairs at a fast pace. I just leaned against the car and waited for her main entrance because I knew there would
