Back 2 Life

It was the 26^th of June in the year 1991. The day started off just as any other typical Bay Area day. I woke up at about 10:30 A.M. (the usual). It was just in time to see the rays of sunlight sneaking through the clouds. This let me know a couple of things right off the bat. It was probably going to be between 70 and 80 degrees for the day, and I had a choice to make. Before I strike out and do my thing I could put on pants and a long sleeve shirt and suffer for a couple of hours before the night falls and be out of the house without a return trip, or I could put on shorts and a short sleeve shirt and after a couple of hours kickin’ it at Shea’s house, before the night falls and the Bay Area breeze kicks in, I’d have to make a trip back to the house to change.

In the middle of this thought the phone rings. “Hell – la,” I answer. “What’s crackin’’ – boy?”, says the voice on the other end. It was none other than D – luv. Darrell Ray was his given name. D and I made up half of the foursome I like to call “my crew.” I told D I was just thinking of what to wear for the day and waking my ass the hell up. He asks “What time are you going to Shea’s house today?” I replied, “About 1 or 2 o’clock, depending on how much T.V. I was gonna watch and what mom’s wanted me to do around the house.” He said he would probably be through at about 3:00 or 3:30 and he would see me there. I was like, “Alright then,” and we hung-up.

Before I could get off of the phone good, it rings again. I answer, “Hell-la.” The deep raspy voice on the other line says, “What’s up?” It was my potna T-BO, Terrence Bronson. He was known as the muscle of the crew. I was like, “What’s crackin’’ nigga?” He told he had just got through working out and he was about to go running. I was like, “Damn, you do more before 12 o’clock than most niggas do all day.” He replied, “Fuck you nigga, what time are you going to Shea’s?” I told him, “About 1 or 2.” He was like, “Cool, I’ll be there about 2:30 PM.”

I was like, “Remember you got the fortys for the day.” He replied, “I know, I know, I’ll holla when I get there.” And with that, the conversation ended. Now I finally get the chance to go to the bathroom and drain last night’s alcohol. There is nothing quite like taking that first piss of the day. It’s long enough to gather your morning thoughts and short enough that you could stay moving without falling back into that sleepy spell you just got out of. Just as I finish in the bathroom, the phone rings again. This time it’s Shea Jackson. Of course he wants to know what time I’m coming through to his crib, and I tell him at about 1 or 2 o’clock, and that the fellas would be over at about the same time and he was like, “Cool.”

That was the extent of our conversation and we hung up. Around this time I heard my name being yelled from downstairs. “William!, William!” I was like, “Yes mom.” She said, “Come here, boy.” Wiping my face and rubbing my hair, I manage to fumble my way down the stairs. “Huh?” I ask my mom. “What are you gonna be doing today?” she asked. “I don’t know. I’ll probably go kick it at Shea’s,” I reply. She says, “You know you can’t kick it at Shea’s forever don’t you? Eventually you will need to get a job.” I reply, “I know mom, I just want to kick it for a while before I go to college instead of work.” Her response was, “O.K., boy. Don’t make this a habit. I won’t be having any of that in my house and neither is our dad.” I gave her an “O.K. moms,” and I was back upstairs. My moms would give me the responsibility speech every so often so I wouldn’t wind up like my uncles. All three of them wound up getting caught up in drugs and alcohol when I was young, and she didn’t want me going that route. Believe me, this is something my mom didn’t have to worry about. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew I wasn’t going that route. Between watching episodes of the Twilight Zone and Perry Mason I hit a couple of sets of push-ups and sit-ups.

I finally decided to go with the pants and the long-sleeved shirt with a tank top underneath, in case it got too hot. I could take off my long sleeve shirt and show off my arms fresh off the push-ups. So I pick out my pants and shirt, get showered and cologned up and get ready to walk to Shea’s.

Shea was only a fifteen-minute walk away from me. I liked walking to his house because it always gave me time to reflect on things. As I would walk down the train tracks, I would sometimes think about what I wanted to do in the future, other times I would just think about life in general. You know the usual things like, Why are we here? Where do you go when you die?, and things of that nature. I think it’s important to dig in your mind from time to time and ask these questions. And before you know it, “ding-dong”. I could see a short, muscular figure walking towards the door through the thin shades and the door opens to “What up nigga?” I was like, “What’s crackin’ baby boy?”