December 25, 2001 The 16 year old twins Twon and Qwon rose from their beds anxious to see if the mom who very rarely keeps her word just happened to keep it this year and get them those Jordans they had been hounding her for. As they looked into the living room two shoeboxes wrapped in newspaper sat under their tree, which was really a plant...
more »
December 25, 2001 The 16 year old twins Twon and Qwon rose from their beds anxious to see if the mom who very rarely keeps her word just happened to keep it this year and get them those Jordans they had been hounding her for. As they looked into the living room two shoeboxes wrapped in newspaper sat under their tree, which was really a plant with some school ornaments on it they had made when they were young. It was what it was in the projects. As they raced across the living room, damn near knocking over the coffee table that already had one leg held up by books, they wasted no time ripping in to the packages. Within seconds they emerged with their Jordans that they thought they would die without. “Momma” the boys yelled simultaneously, but there was no response as they approached her door. The smell of stale Newports filled their nostrils as Qwon slowly pushed the door open with Twon right on his heels. “Momma” you woke?” Twon said pushing his brother aside. But still no response from the motionless body in the bed. They called Momma as they made their way around the bed. They noticed the belt tied around her arm tightly and just below a needle hanging. “Momma” they yelled frantically, as her eyes stared straight through them and their attempts to revive her failed. This couldn’t be happening to them, not today. It really sat in quickly the woman that gave birth to them was now dead. Twon reached down slowly closing his mother’s eyes for the last time. Qwon then noticed a letter lying on the floor marked Twon and Qwon on it. “Twins, I know right now you’re confused and hurt, but it’s important that you stay strong for each other. Always know I love ya’ll with all my heart and I will always be there, no matter where ya’ll go. Just know I couldn’t go on a slave to this heroine any longer and eventually my habit would become a liability to what the future holds for ya’ll. Now this is where I need ya’ll to pay close attention. In the picture frame of ya’ll on my night stand there is a key. This key is gonna open a part of ya’ll life that can’t be closed once it is opened – it is in your bloodline. Today is the 10-year anniversary of the night those pussy ass police took your father away from us. 10 long years I’ve waited to give ya’ll this key. The key to ya’ll destiny and now the time is here. I want ya’ll to go to our old house. It is boarded up now, but ya’ll will find a way in. Once inside go up to your old room. Remember that mural of Michael Jordan ya’ll Dad had painted for ya’ll on the wall? It is time for ya’ll to find out the real reason it’s there. Boys its one thing left. Promise me you won’t let those police ever take ya’ll away in handcuffs and look ya’ll up ever. Now go reclaim the throne your father left behind. You’re the sons of King, and boys your father is waiting. Love Mom. P.S. I hope ya’ll like the shoes I got you for Christmas.” As they stood there trying to take in everything that has been put before them, strangely they never shedded a tear. It wasn’t the first they seen death, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. December 30, 2001 Social Services took no time stepping in placing us in a group home. It was only temporary though because it was only a matter of time before we planned our escape. Today was our mother’s funeral so the Social Worker took us and sat with us the whole time. As we sat in the church we watched as hundreds of people made their way in and out, paying respect to Debra Scott, but also know to the streets as the Queen. “ Momma show look good, huh Qwon?” “Sure do. She almost look unreal”, replied Qwon. The years had taken a toll on the Queen. 10 years ago she was the baddest thing in the hood at 150 pounds, with a 5’3” frame. Thick was an understatement. Her creamy black skin complimenting her hypnotizing brown eyes that seemed to take complete control over our dad. He’d buy her the world if he could, and he sure did try. From minks, to diamonds, to clothes – you name it she had it. Once dad got locked up it seemed like part of her died. The first couple years were straight, but by the time we were nine, we noticed all her nice things Dad had bought her slowly disappeared. There were days at a time momma wouldn’t even come home, so we learned to take care of ourselves. By the time of our 11th birthday, Momma had blown through a couple hundred thousand dollars that our Dad had left her, and she was unable to continue paying the property taxes on our house. We were forced to move to the Marion Jones housing projects. To some it was unreal to hear the Queen was now living the same projects her husband’s legacy began in. At first everything was going good. Momma walked around like the world was still hers. People jumped around doing whatever she asked, whenever she asked. As the months passed, the Queen’s ugly secret could no longer be hidden. Heroine called Momma night and day and she answered. The people she once looked down upon now looked down upon her as she’d sit on
« less
