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wide-nose-and-wonderful · 2 years ago

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SNOWFALL SEASON 1 Franklin (PART 2)

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black Fem Reader!

Warnings/Type: Established Relationship. Angst. Use of the n-word. Here is part (1).

Summary: You’ve seen the worst parts of him and the best parts of him and vice versa. That’s why you made a good pair, but the recent knowledge of his new life path has torn you both apart. However when tragedy strikes, it might be the thing you need to take another look at the Franklin you fell in love with.

Word count: 6,377k / Comment and Like to show some love. It's oh so appreciated and encourages me to write more for ya'll!

You felt a lot like Dorothy and remembered why you watched the Wiz over and over but still remained confused. Wherever the fuck you were, it wasn’t Cho’s Grocery Store anymore. The bright roads stretched out before you, and you drifted, to a beautiful meadow. The color of sapphire. A kind like you’d never seen, settled into your view. Almost too blinding to look at. It shined. In the meadow, You were surrounded by people. Your people. Black people, wearing these immaculate sapphire robes you were unable to look at for too long, running, laughing and smiling but all in slow motion.

They wore stones, in the form of necklaces, and bracelets of all different colors rich from the earth that surrounded them. And their hair stretched high as a tree reaching out toward the sun woven in thick and angelic dark coils of magic. Hair that told a story. You were amazed how well their deep brown complexions contrast against the colors and these robes. Mesmerizing yellow and pink sat the skies and kissed them, as if this place of such immense divinity celebrated their being there. A painting come to life. The colors, vivid and beating. Like liquid. You feared blinking, worried that it would all disappear if you did.

The sun shone brightly. The surrounding air filled with the sweet smell of wildflowers. Birds chirped in the background, and you felt an unexplainable wave of peace and contentment wash over your entire being. You watched them. Satisfied with that. Your soul told you that you couldn't join in their little place of peace. A place you could only see. You didn't even have on the right clothes. You peered down. Still in your high tops and blue jeans. Not Dorothy’s famous ‘no place like home’ silver slippers.

“It's wonderful isn't it?”

Your eyes found their way to where the words had come. There he was. Handsome. Healthy, and alive.

“Ronnie.” You took a moment to soak in the image of him. To be sure that you were actually seeing what you thought you were.

“Ha, yeah it's me,” He confirmed.

You took off running towards him. Damn what your soul cautioned. Damn whether or not you weren't dressed for the occasion. Or the rules, or anything! You were going to hug your big brother. For the longest time you'd been unable to do so. Five long months and you'd counted every day. Your heart swelled, and you embraced him, soaking in the warmth of the hug. When you drew your arms around him, it was like the entire world stood still. And when he held you back just as tight and eager, you took a breath of relief. This was real! It felt so real.

An eternity could have passed with you hugging him, as if holding on for dear life, but you wanted so badly to see his face that you discarded the grip and looked up. He wore the same sapphire robes that the others did. Those stones of various colors. But there were things missing. When you went to visit him, he’d had cuts and bruises. Some old, many of them new. None of those were there anymore. His skin, heavily melanated, was fresh from blemish of any kind. This surprised you. He no longer wore those big round glasses either. But such a drastic difference couldn’t go unspoken.

“Ron. Where are your glasses?” You tilted your head. He looked a lot different without them.

A smile found him and he shook his head peering down at you. “I don't need them anymore.”

“Really, you. You don't need them?” You laughed. He had to be joking. Ronnie would have been declared and certified blind without his specks. You didn’t believe it. But your brother had never lied to you. Nor had he once squinted as if he didn’t have a clear view from where he stood.

“Yeah. You don't need any of that stuff here.”

And you wondered where exactly ‘here’ was.

Ronnie reached for your hand. “Let me see.”

You looked down and noticed you were holding the inhaler. The one you’d forgotten to pocket when you left your house to walk down the street to Cho’s. The one that Franklin had searched for to try and help you.

Franklin. The thought of him only lasted a moment before Ronnie stole your attention. He took the inhaler from your hand and threw it over the edge.

“Ronnie! What the-” You peered over the hill where you both stood and watched it travel downward, falling until it disappeared into the glittering waters below. You took a few steps closer to investigate.

He smiled at you. Now that your hand was free he grabbed it.“Come on, I wanna show you something. Take a breath…”

To your amazement, You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in the sweet, fresh air. Something you hadn’t been able to do in years. At Least not to this capacity. You turned to your brother both stunned and fascinated. There were so many of your people there.

“What is this place?”

Ronnie took in a deep breath, exhaled, and looked at the skies blissfully. “Paradise.”

You looked around. Yeah. He was right. It was.You pointed down at the people below your sights from the hill.

“Well what’s going on there?”

“A celebration,” Ronnie said.

Your eyes traveled from him and back to the crowd that had started to move. “What are they celebrating?” You asked with a burning curiosity. You’d never seen anything like it. Black people, all together, so happy. Of Course you’d been to cook outs in the neighborhood. On special occasions. Sometimes just because someone felt like doing something, or when the weather was nice there might be a get together, but this was different. A thing that couldn’t be explained in words.

“Me,” Ronnie said smooth and casual. “It's a celebration for me.”

You looked at him. That same smile was present. It filled his face with a light you’d never seen in him before. Like even beyond the robes he wore, he glowed, a bright aura on him equivalent to a shadow following its master without fail. Your eyes traveled over him. Over these robes of sapphire. “You?” You breathed.

They were coming. Getting closer and closer, like they’d been waiting for him for a while. Happy that he finally showed up. Music and love were coming to carry him away.

“Remember when we were kids. Dad turned on the sprinkler, and we would run through.”

That was random. Why out of all the memories had he chosen to bring up that specific one?

“Yeah. I remember. That was nice. Dad wasn’t sick then.”

Your father. Ronnie had been the spitting image of that man. Glasses and all. You remember your dad being a gentleman, but a teacher as well. Because of him you knew all sorts of things. Things you were able to apply to everyday life. He died too soon. Lung Cancer. Probably second hand, because he’d never smoked a cigarette a day in his life. Then again, the world didn’t need an excuse to be cruel, so it left you and Ronnie fatherless.

“Here you get to do stuff like that all the time. There is no sickness. No suffering. No tears.”

It sounded good. It sounded amazing. The world like you knew it was filled with all those things, especially for black people. Suffering and tears. Some days it was just hard to exist. But you’d been together in that dark place, and for you that had been enough. You weren’t ever really alone because you knew you had your brother.

“Right,” You breathed out, “But you wanna come home, don’t you?” You could feel your emotions, all of them. The same way when you’d stopped to talk to Franklin that night in Cho’s after Leon, Kevin and Melody had left. “I’m so close to bringing you home,” you pleaded. “We can’t give up now.”

Had you forgotten that quickly what your mother said on the phone? What she’d repeated over and over.

“I can't, baby sister. I can't come home.”

You wanted to fight against that logic. Of Course he could. But if he wouldn’t come, then you wouldn’t leave.

“Fine, okay. I'll stay with you instead? Get me a robe like this too. Seems nice.”

You heard the word ‘BREATHE’ being called out from behind. Not pressing enough to make you turn from your brother's face. So you ignored it. You wanted nothing more than to find a way to escape it all and obtain peace. Like Ronnie had.

“It’s not time yet for you little sister.”

Finally, he kissed your forehead and smiled at you, saying, “You gotta wake up now.” but you didn't want to. The word ‘BREATHE’ came at you from behind again. Still all you could do was watch all the people surrounding Ronnie, smiling and welcoming him as they grew further and further from where you were left standing. The worst part was that he appeared happy to be with them. He'd left you there, and your body ached wishing desperately to follow, although you couldn't move. The bright colors faded to display a muddled and pale comparison, almost making your eyes hurt. The birds became silent. Different voices took their place. In short echoes at first, until they become more and more clear. You were drifting again, between reality and a dream.

You weren’t certain, but you were sure these voices belonged to Jerome and Cissy Saint.

Slowly, you opened her eyes and looked around, but the meadow was gone. The celebration, those colors full of life, and Ronnie. Darkness had found you, and the only light you could grasp was the dimness of the one above. You knew you were in some kind of room although you were unsure of the location.

“Got damn shame what they did to that boy. He died in his own pool of blood. Took three days for one of them sadity ass guards to go in and check. The body was stinkin’ bad by that time.”

“My God. My God. How is she? You speak to Louie? She still over there?”

“Throwing up, crying. Same. Louie stayed wit her last night. Tried to get her to eat somethin.”

“Did she?”

“Naw.”

“Shit. This is bad. That poor woman, losing one of her babies. I can't even imagine.”

“Here. Got these. For when the girl wake up.”

“Thank you. For doin’ all this. Gettin’ involved. I don't get off till late so, keep me posted on any change.”

“Aight.”

They couldn't be talking about your brother. Your brother was in a Paradise, safe and free. You placed him in a beautiful dream, and left him there. And who was this person they spoke about? Not your brother. That voice urging you to breathe had brought you back to the world. A world filled with suffering and tears. Only this time, without Ronnie. You shut your eyes. You were all alone in it. You closed your eyes and wanted desperately to obtain that peace, to beg Ronnie once again for a place to stay within it. But you didn’t return. The irritating beep beep beep, met a synchronized sound in your eardrums, annoying you to wake.

Just as you expected, Franklin made good on getting you to the hospital in time. He always came through. Of Course the actual process was all a blur. That, and how long you'd been there. Your gaze traveled and to your left it was met by a beautiful and large bouquet of fresh flowers. You knew they were fresh by the scent they omitted. Pink alstroemerias, lavender irises, and white orchids decorated into a wonderful grouping of exquisite beauty. Contrast to that beauty, the room smelled of bleach and disinfectant, and the air was stale and thick with the scent of sickness. It was a stark reminder of what this place was for. A reminder of the fragility of life. A mixture of antiseptic and fear. It was a room where life and death could be decided, and the weight of that knowledge was almost palpable. It was a place that could bring hope and despair, depending on its occupant's fate. The room, oppressive.

You felt something on your wrist, so light that you thought it could be a spider's legs. A glance downward. The sound of beeping and whirring filled the space as the machines hummed. An IV bag hung from a stand next to the bed, dripping fluids into your awaiting arm delivering some unknown liquid into your veins. What came after made your lips partially curve. Franklin sitting in a chair that he'd pulled closer to the bed. He'd busied himself with focusing on your hand. Messing with your fingers as he often did when you both laid on the couch watching TV. It hadn't been a spider's legs like you first suspected, but instead him bruising over your skin in traces as soft as a feather's touch. You were glad for that. You weren't too fond of spiders.

You shifted, and pulled your hand back a little at the sensation it brought that you tried to escape. “That tickles,” you whispered when he regarded your gaze.

Your name fell from his lips, and warmness filled inside your stomach. You always liked the way he said it. But it was like, you'd never heard it this way before. He’d said it like you’d been gone a long time.Years. He said it like he’d never thought he’d ever see you again. His face lit up, and a smile so big presented itself. One that made you smile.You wouldn't cry. But you wanted to. You were hoping he'd be the first face you'd see.

“Franklin.” You found his hand and applied pressure as you inhaled through the nasal cannula locked to each of your nostrils. “I was so scared. I thought I was gonna die.” You had to stop there. You hated the way your voice sounded all hoarse and strained, but more than that, the tears were so close to spilling that you played a dangerous game of keeping shit together or falling completely apart. “That was you wasn't it Frank? The one telling me to breathe. Callin' me back.”

He gathered your hand up in both of his, leaned his face and kissed the top of your knuckles. “Yeah,” he said. “That was me.”

You offered barely more than a nod. One tear managed to slip past your reserve. “Thank you,” you whispered. “Saved my life.” The last part had been hard to say. For whatever strange reason, guilt riddled within those words. Where Franklin succeeded in saving a life, you had failed. What made you so special that your life mattered more than your brothers had? You sucked in a sharp breath.

Franklin turned his head and lifted his face. Almost like he didn't want you to see. You should have brought the inhaler with you. More often than not you could be careless. Even before you'd decided to make things official with Franklin he'd been on you. Nagging that you take better care to remember shit like that. You'd put him in a difficult situation. What if you had checked out? You wanted peace, but death was a little too permanent for your taste.

When you realized he still had his face turned you cleared your throat and noted his change in clothes. You remembered a green shirt. The one he wore was a deep red with blue sleeves.

“You're dressed differently.”

Franklin turned his head and inspected your face. It made you wonder just how long you’d drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness.

“You been out for three days.” He clarified. “Went home to change. Came back. Repeated the process.”

“Oh. Damn.”

Three days. That seemed excessive, but it made sense. Panic attack and Asthma attack were a bad combination. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps and Cissy Saint came into view. Her hair pressed and turned out with a small bounce complimenting the flower print blouse and light blue jeans she wore.

“Glad to see you awake. Franklin, come on now, give her some space.”

He sighed and pushed up from his place on the bed as he sat back in the chair.

“It’s okay Cissy. I don’t mind it. Glad he’s here.” And you meant that in every sense of the word.

“Yeah. You gave everyone quite a scare you know. He been up here for the past few nights. We're all glad you're okay.” She sighed. She looked worn out, mostly in the eyes. You figured it must have been because of the information she knew. That little bit you'd heard. “Had the opportunity to speak to the doctor a little while ago. He’s good with your levels. So you shouldn’t be here for much longer. They just need time to send for the medication.”

You nodded and gave her a smile. Only after Cissy entered, had you noticed the layout of the room you were in. Sterile and white. The linoleum floor was a faded gray. The room was small. A single bed in the middle with a window overlooking the parking lot, and a small television mounted on the wall opposite the bed. The walls were bare, except for a single framed photograph. The bed in which you laid was covered in a plain white sheet, and had four rails on each side. You hated it.

“Has my mother been here?”

“No. She uh. Been taking care of some things at home. Just hasn't had the chance. That's all.”

Cissy was trying to spare your feelings, but she said a lot without saying much. Been taking care of things at home. Sure. But a quick check in didn’t take much.

“Okay. Maybe I'll, yeah I'll give her a call a little later. Think maybe she'd wanna hear my voice.”

You didn’t want Franklin or Cissy to notice her not showing up hurt, so you willed the tears back. It hadn’t been this big secret to anyone that your mother doted on Ronnie, and in whatever circumstance put him before anything and anyone. You were never jealous, only starved of affection. You hadn’t expected her to show up, but for her baby boy. Oh, she’d been there for all the special events in his life, offered him praise on his accomplishments and made sacrifices. In all these things, there you were, watching in the background and battling with yourself on whether it was selfish that you envied that kind of devotion. The same thing you'd craved in your relationship with Franklin no doubt, and while you could understand your mother’s frustrations in some aspects, you were left baffled. Sure, while Ronnie was compliant, you were combative. While he was submissive to your mother’s will, you were rebellious to it, and you both seemed to compete in some way for your brother's attention, but you were still her child, her only girl.

“You gonna need to drink some water. They got a menu, so in a little while, I want you to try and put something in your stomach, okay.”

Franklin handed you the menu Cissy mentioned and you took it giving the options a look over. Nothing on it looked even remotely appetizing.

“Okay Cissy. I will.” You sat the menu down with no intention of using it. Consuming any such food would be the reason for an extended stay.

Franklin watched you and grinned. He turned, reached over to grab the glass and the silver pitcher beside it, to fill it halfway with water. “Hm. Drink that. Your voice sounds horrible.” A playful smirk had made its way to his lips as he held the glass out for you to take.

You smacked your teeth and gave a roll of your eyes, but downed the whole thing.

“Just in case I'm not the one to take you home.You got a fresh set of clothes right here.”

Your eyes shifted to where Cissy pointed her finger. The clothes that Jermone had brought. You lowered the glass from your mouth and whispered a soft thank you. There was a knock at the door and you and Franklin watched Leon enter. Right on time to. Your energy had plummeted after the mention of those certain clothes that had been brought from your house. It confirmed one thing that you would always be resentful for. You hadn't heard wrong.

You watched Cissy and Leon hug. She let you know she’d check in on you once she was off of her shift, and for Franklin to be home at a decent hour, before she left the room. You wondered if that had to do more with you or his new found profession. Just thinking about it annoyed you all over again. You never got around to asking for detail, although he probably wouldn’t tell you anyway.

“Aye, wassup afro twin.”

You forced yourself to sit up with a little resistance from your tired body. “Leon, wassup?”

He walked over to the empty chair at the other side of the bed opposite of Franklin and sat down. “Same ol’ shit, you know. How you feelin’ today?” He looked around at all the medical machines. “All this look crazy.”

He'd been right. Hospital’s could be rather dramatic with all their life saving gadgets. “I’m fine. Sept for this.” You raised a hand to touch the top of your head. The afro that had become signature to your look was now done up with two big messy braids and locked together by a rubber band, compliment of Cissy more than likely. The ends were tucked under. Probably as a cation not to cause irritation to your neck. How thoughtful. “You see they got my crown pushed back. I feel all incompetent and shit.”

Leon laughed. “Oh hey speakin’ of, brought you somethin.” He reached in one of his pockets and pulled out a small black hair pic then held it in your direction.

Overwhelmed with awe, you reached out to take it from him. Setting back, you looked at the balled first at the top and remembered why you were friends. A grin casually began to pull on your face.

“Figured you would appreciate it, wit you being Assata’s lil sis and all.”

You nodded and grinned. It had been a joke of course, but you never minded being likened to a woman who you had immense respect for. “Right on Lee. Cuz I lost my other one. I figured you’d have a spare, somewhere.”

Franklin, who'd been left out of the conversation, shook his head with a chuckle. “Y'all too much with these damn afro’s.”

Leon smacked his teeth. “Shit nigga when you gon join in? Be a part of the Afro gang?”

Your eyes lifted from the pic. “Yeah Franklin, I mean it looks like it’s tryna grow out a little already. Let it.”

“Haha. I’m not messin’ wit yall,” he said but touched the top of his hair in a gentle pat.

You looked over at the bouquet and reached out to brush a petal closest with your fingers. “So who brought the flowers?”

Glances were passed between Franklin and Leon.

“Mel did.” Franklin said.

You sunk down into the cushion of the pillows behind you and sighed. “Oh.”

An awkwardness found its way into the room. You were certain that you both could feel the change, even Leon. You were sure that in some capacity Franklin had told Leon what happened. Either just on principle of holding the title of his best friend, or to prepare him for the shift in the friend group. Whatever the reason things had changed for all of you. Having the time to reflect on everything, you wondered what kind of turmoil that caused Ronnie, always being stuck in the middle of two women at odds pulling at either end to pick a side. To pick who he loved more. The mother daughter relationship, such a complicated thing. What you did realize was that you’d projected this in your relationship with Franklin, only you’d stirred up a war with Melody this time. A war she probably hadn’t seen coming. Once upon a time she’d been a friend. There for you when you had your first breakup with icecream and laughter, and when you told her you were planning on running away that time when you were twelve, she said she would go with you, even though Andre tore into her ass for it later. You both hadn’t even made eye contact since the confrontation, but she’d thought about you enough to bring flowers. Your favorite.

“Why didn’t you tell me to get up?”

“Why didn’t I tell you to get up? First of all yo ass pulled me in there on the random. And tell you to get up, for fucking’ what? I’m your girlfriend nigga, we were having an intimate moment. The better question is why the hell was she climbing in your window in the first damn place? You know all this shit don’t add up right?”

“Man, whatever.You have this thing that you do. You make shit up in your own head.”

“You know Franklin. If you playin’ me, at least have the decency to tell me to my face. Instead of being a fuckin’ coward and lying about the shit. You don’t think I deserve the truth?”

“Quit while you're ahead, please.”

“Oh quit while I'm ahead. Right, but I'm the last to know about your little side hustle. But everybody else know. Image how the fuck I feel!”

You put away the memory. That had been the worst fight you’d had as a couple, and the last. It hadn’t even been a full year in and it was over just like that. But maybe, this was never about Franklin. You thought back to the time you were forced to see the school psychologist after your dad died. Really, what was some white middle aged woman from the suburbs going to tell you about grief and pain. It didn’t have to happen to you for it to be felt, because if it wasn’t happening to you, it was happening to your aunties and uncles, your cousins and friends that held a similar skin tone. Her people had contributed to the majority of what pain surfaced, the hopelessness you felt, and your grief had levels, years if not centuries to it. You discovered this on different occasions. Being followed in a store, or looking in a school textbook to see a young black boy hanging from a tree after being lit on fire, Jesse Williams. You hadn’t forgotten his name. Or your all time favorite, being told to go back to Africa although you'd never seen it a day in your life. A pain she would never understand sitting comfortably in her privilege. You stopped attending after one session and latched on other outlets. Perfecting your afro, reading up on works by Marcus Garvey, and Malcolm X. That sparked a realization for you though. Something deeper was going on inside. Something you weren’t ready to admit to yourself.

You sighed and Franklin directed his attention to Leon. “Where Kev,” he said, with the best way he knew how to change the subject.

Leon turned his gaze on the door and your eyes followed. “Parking the car.” He shrugged. “You know that nigga slow. We was circlin’ around for like twenty minutes. Eventually I just told him to let me out.”

For whatever reason you could actually see how that played out, and the thought made you let loose a brief laugh. “Well,” you began, adding yourself into the exchange. “Y'all know how he is about his ride.”

“Obsessed as shit,” Leon said to add. “It ain't even that clean.”

“Come on, stop. What if he come in and hear you Lee, you know he sensitive.” Franklin chimed in with a smile. “And if that nigga decide to put you out. Ya on ya own. I’m not walkin’ wit you.”

Leon smacked his teeth throwing glances at both you and Franklin. “I don’t give a fuck bout’ that. Facts is facts. Forget tryna spare the nigga’s feelings.”

“Ayeee. What ya’ll talkin’ bout?”

All three of you looked at the door. Kevin stood in its frame, confused and eager to be let in on the discussion.

Your energy had to be on zero, but threw up a hand anyway to wave it at him. “Kevin, hey. Find a good parkin’ spot?” you joked.

He smiled coming in and making his way toward you to offer a hug. “Wassup girl. Hell yeah, you kno i’mma always take care of my ride. Found me a nice tree, away from all the rest of the motherfucka’s, so I kno nobody gon’ mess wit ma shit. Anyway, forget all that.” He stood back and gave you a once over. “Good now?”

“Never better.” You gave Kevin this half ass salute, and although your words came out somewhat sarcastic, you meant well, and Kevin for as long as you’d known him was good with that. You figured he had to be with his special sense of humor.

“Aight, I’mma take your word for it. The way Franklin called us up that night tho. He made it seem like you was tryna go to glory. You had that nigga in a tizzy.”

Leon chuckled and shook his head. “This nigga said in a Tizzy.”

Kevin dramatically spread his arms. “Man I'm for real. If I'm lyin’ then I'm flyin’. We tryna see about you, but this nigga so panic he could barely get a word out.”

Franklin gave Kevin this look, that you could only conclude to be a death stare, but you had focused on the Go to Glory, part. You laughed at this, only because his grandma said it often.Yet she was still alive and kickin’ bossing around all the kids in the neighborhood when they’d passed by her house with no such promise of leaving up outta there any time soon. The expression however had become a familiar one. Something she used often when she was threatening Kevin. ‘Boy don’t make me take you to glory,’ or, ‘these damn children make me wanna go to glory.’ Or her all time favorite. ‘Lord, just, take me on to glory.’

You thought about Ronnie. What you saw. Could that be what glory was like? You'd concluded that it damn sure wasn't Oz.

“Well yeah, guess it wasn’t time just yet,” you said and hoped to make light of the situation. Although you were stupid to leave the inhaler behind, you hadn’t planned on an asthma attack. Shit like that just happened. Lesson learned.

“I'm glad you decided to stay wit us crazy folk here in South Central. I can’t speak for everybody else but personally, I’d miss seein’ you around. Miss you talkin’ all the shit you be talkin’.”

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “Shut up Kev.”

“See, that’s what I mean.” He faced Franklin. “So wassup Saint, you rollin’ wit us?”

“Yeah.” He stood up.

You looked at the window. Still daylight. What fucking difference did that make? A pusher could do in the day what he could do at night, although you weren’t sure what Franklin preferred. Whatever brought the most customers maybe. The cover of darkness or hiding in plain sight.

“Aye and we should probably talk about the movie on friday. I know we said we gon hit up that Eddie Murphy, but I wanna see a horror one too! That Camp Sleepaway lookin’ good, or Cujo maybe?”

When Kevin mentioned seeing another movie, that meant sneaking into the second one. Two for the price of one. You didn't know anyone in the neighborhood who hadn't had that same mentality when it came to that philosophy. All this required a plan. Someone chosen to open the back door. Another to play lookout. You wondered who they'd have do it this time. Probably Melody.

You and Franklin caught each other's gaze at the same time.

“Yeah, uh let's talk about that later, okay.”

You shook your hand hoping to gain the attention of all three. “Oh no Franklin. Don’t mind me. Please. I’m fine, you go, plan your night. It'll be here before you know it.”

Franklin moved closer to the bed. “You sure?” He really did look concerned.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’ve been here for the last three days anyway. Please, get outta here. I know you gotta be sick of the hospital smell by now.”

“Shit. I know I am. I hate hospitals. Anyway Darlin’ you call me up if you need me to bring you anything.”

Darlin? You appreciated Kevin because you knew that meant anything junk food from the store. On top of the smell, hospital food was straight booty, and depending on how long they'd keep you, you would need an outlet. You waved goodbye to both Leon and Kevin as they departed. You and Franklin were alone again.

“You call me when you make it outta here and I'll come over. Check on you.”

“Yeah. You sure that won't cut into your cocaine selling time.” It was more a statement than a question.

Franklin's jaw twitched. You saw it from the corner of your eye and watched him check behind his back. Probably to make sure Cissy wasn't coming around any corners to hear you by accident.

“I don't wanna talk about this right now.”

“But we never finished. The phone rang, remember?”

“Look, I gotta go okay.” He walked over to the side of the bed, leaned down and kissed your forehead before turning to head for the door.

You used all your energy to sit up to try and stop him. “Do you know what I thought while I was on the floor gasping for air Franklin. Huh? Do you?”

He stopped walking but his back remained on you.

“That I was sorry it was over. Dispite what you're doing to yourself. To your mother. You still ain't tell her, huh?”

You could hear Leon call Franklin's name from down the hallway, telling him to hurry up. Your eyes had traveled to the window. “So. You gon go do some business now. Huh Franklin? Even after what happened. You're still unconvinced that it's a bad idea. I know they told you what they did to Ronnie in that fuckin prision. And you can bet it was much worse than drowning in a pool of his own blood. I'm sure the nightmare began long before that. I saw what they did to his face. So tell me. Is the money really worth all that it will come with?”

Although Franklin had a little more fight in him. Prison had the reputation to break everyone down eventually. You already knew he wasn't built for it. Especially for the long haul. He might make it for a few months, but the years that cocaine would add to his sentence would take him out with a quickness. You liked Cissy. You didn't want to see her cry.

“Get some rest,” Franklin said. This time when he walked, he made it to the door.

“Hey!” You shouted loud enough to get his attention. “I have one more question for you before you go.”

He stopped just shy of the door frame. One foot out, the other in. “What’s that?”

“If I were to think that this was all some kind of misunderstanding. Like, none of this was real. That he was somewhere at college maybe. Would you lie to me and tell me I wasn’t coasting on false hope. That there was this small possibility. Would you tell me that none of this happen? That everything up to this point was all just a bad dream I made up.”

Franklin lowered his head. Maybe to think about it, but in the same moment he lifted his face towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. Then he shook his head. He looked at you over his shoulder.“No,” he said. “Because this is real. He’s gone.”

Franklin couldn't tell you about his being a drug dealer, but he could tell you that what you'd heard Jerome and Crissy say was the truth. He could say without saying, you had failed. That all of your studying and reading and time spent trying to convince some bullshit lawyer of different avenues of freedom, that everything had all been in vain.

“Okay.” That single word came out in a partial whimper, but you held it together. Your mind jumped back to a former thought. The same thought that led you to whatever it was you weren't ready to admit to yourself. But you did now. You admitted it! You had been for a long time and even though the image of the Panthers seemed uplifting, and Garvey and Malcolm’s words held you through each day, the down right naked truth was that you were absolutely and utterly powerless. That's what it was! A revelation had just emerged. You had no control over the situation with Melody, your brother's arrest, his murder. Your neglectful mother, America's mistreatment. The white power structure, Franklin and his choice to graduate to selling cocaine instead of the reefa he'd peddled for Jerome. None of it.

You watched him go and finally let your tears spill out as you exhaled.

………………………………….

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