Chapter 15

I Dream of Saltwater

Waking up never has been one of my favorite activities. It’s a terrible way to start the day if you ask me. Unfortunately, it’s a ritual we’re doomed to repeat our entire lives. I like being woken up even less. If a man hasn’t gotten himself to wakefulness under his own power, he surely won’t be wanting you to help him along with the process. That damned Afroman is singing again. I need a new ringtone.

My hands fumble to open the phone as my eyes struggle to stop crossing each other. I see it’s Tiff calling.

“Hey baby,” I gaze at the poster of Jamaica I’ve got tacked up on my wall. “How you holding up?”

“Not good, Perce,” her voice feels like an icicle jammed into my ear. “Not good at all. My front door got broken down, my brother damn near got killed. How the hell do you think I’m doing?”

The digital clock radio’s telling me it’s nine in the morning, which is far too early for this shit. “That’s definitely fucked up, I feel you. Important thing is that he’s alive. Boy’s been through a lot and I know you worry about him, but listen to me, if there’s–”

“No,” she cuts me off. “You listen to me. I want Sam back here with me. You about got him killed last night. I’ve been worried this fucked up city would get to him one day and I can’t take the stress any more. I want him home.”

“Now wait just a god damned minute, Tiff,” now I’m glaring at Jamaica. “I didn’t get him into this shit with Smoke Money. Matter of fact I risked my life trying to save him!”

“Right,” she scoffs. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Percy Straight, and you know it! You’re the one who got him interested in all this ‘gangsta’ bullshit. Dealing drugs and starting fights! My little brother was a good kid, a smart kid. Now look at him, just another low-life thug headed for a prison cell or a cemetery plot.”

The ice in her tone has melted away, giving way to gut-wrenching sobs. You’d think Sam died last night.

“Hey, hey now,” I try to sound comforting and not show that I’m offended. “I made sure he knew this life isn’t for everyone. I told him about the dangers and the risks, I didn’t try to sell the kid on life as a banger, you know that.”

“He’s just a baby!” she moans, nearing the hysterics I’m working to avoid here. “MY little brother!”

“Well, he might be young,” I try to be delicate in getting my point across. “But he’s no baby. Sam’s becoming a man now and what a man wants is respect. That’s why these kids fall in with gang life. They want to be treated with respect, like they’ve got dignity. You go talking like that to Sam and he’s liable to push you away.”

“Oh God!” she wails, causing the phone’s signal to fuzz a bit and me to wince. “I can’t stand it here, Perce. Sam and I are going back home to Texas with Aunt Jolene. She bought the tickets online this morning. We leave tonight.”

“What?” I sit up in bed, suddenly far more alert. “You can’t just run off like that! What about all your stuff?”

“Ladies from Aunt Jolene’s church are going to pack the rest of it for movers after we’re gone,” she sniffles. “We can’t sleep in this house anymore, Perce. I feel like my whole world’s been shattered. Seattle’s too dangerous.”

My jaw about drops. “Oh and Texas suddenly becomes an oasis of peace? Come on, Tiff! You said you hated it there. Sam hated it there, too. What about you and me?”

“I never got my front door kicked in back in Texas.” She seems to view this as something other than dumb luck. “I may not like it, but it’s home. As for you and me? What the hell are you talking about? You’ve never cared about me as anything more than another one of your easy lays so don’t make it sound like we were engaged or something. You’ll find new girls to fuck. You always do.”

‘Hell hath no fury,’ I think to myself before responding. “Far be it from me to cast judgment on you and your Aunt’s decisions, but I think you’re being a little hasty here. You got Kingfins looking out for you and that’s the best security money can buy, even though it costs you nothing. That’s cause I care about you and about Sam, too. I know this whole mess is stressful, but turning and running away isn’t going to solve your problems.”

“It’s awfully sweet of you to be looking out for us and I have enjoyed having Philly around,” she jabs me with that sly statement, “But what about a week from now? What about a month from now? Are they going to escort us to the grocery store? Go to school with Sam? It’s just not safe enough for us here anymore, Perce. Thugs like that hold grudges for a long time. We may not be tough like you and your ‘homeboys’ but we’re at least smart enough to get out of a building when we know it’s on fire.”

I let silence answer her before I respond, forcing my irritation back down. “Do what you have to, I guess.”

“So when are you bringing him home?” she asks.

“In a few hours.” I know I’m not going to win this disagreement now. “I need to sleep some first. So does Sam. I’ll get him to you later today.”

“That’s fine,” she’s lies. “Thanks again for sending Philly, he’s surprisingly quite the gentleman. A pleasure to hang out with.”

Bitch. I hang up on her, roll over and drift back to sleep.

As I sleep, I dream deeply. I dream, as I often do, of the sea. Clear blue skies over shimmering waters dark with mystery. I see a boat, rising and falling to the rhythm of the waves. I feel far away, watching this scene like an outside observer. The boat has billowing sails, pregnant with strong winds which drive it forward across the ocean. I spot a man, high up in the crow’s nest. He’s peering through a telescope back across the rear of this proud ship. I’m moving towards him, seeing the bandanna tying back his hair, the leathery features of his face and the sweat rolling down his brow. Suddenly, I can see what he sees through his telescope.

At first it’s a shape, but as I watch, its details unfold before my eyes. A ship looms forward across the horizon, a ship with a black flag snapping in the breeze. A pirate ship, I remember thinking. Then the dream fuzzes out and I can’t remember what happens between this realization and the next part I remember: smoke and fiery blasts. The ships are firing volleys from their cannons at each other, salt water splashing with each miss. Each score crashes through the timber of the first ship and the pirate vessel manages to avoid any damage at all. Men from both boats are screaming at each other, preparing their swords for the inevitable showdown. Then I see one of my friends. I can’t tell who he is, but I know that I know him. He’s not with the pirate ship, but as the pirates begin to cut down his mates, he fights valiantly. Musket balls are being emptied into sailors left and right, men going down everywhere.

Then a dark-bearded pirate steps out from the fog of smoke. A tall, thin figure who’s surely the captain of the pirates if pirates ever had captains. He’s majestic as he surveys the battle, looking down a classic Roman nose as his men savage the ship’s crew. There’s a shot fired by my friend and the captain’s hit, but no blood comes out. This is because, I realize slowly, the crimson amulet he wears around his neck deflected the musket ball. The amulet shatters and he seems shocked.

Things fade to black and once more Afroman serenades me from sleep. I try to hold onto the memories of this dream as tightly as I can before I pick up my cell.

Author’s Note: Dreams are such strange, strrange things…. More tomorrow.

Tags: Aunt Jolene, Hyena, Percy Straight, philly mako, Sam, Tiff