Ever been sued by family?
Then you have one up on this guy. Though I wouldn’t worry about him too much, I have it under good authority that he’s a Republican. Sheesh.
My mother is like the godfather. She'll do you a favor, make you a loan, but you have to pay her back (with the vig) or else it's a trip to court. You can't borrow a quarter from her without having to sign a promissary note.
Money is how she controls the people around her. Even if you aren't interested in going to her for a favor, she'll come to you if she thinks she can get her hooks into you. She has sued me more than a couple of times, my sister, my brother–one time me and her brother had the same court date:"I see here that the defendant and the plaintiff have the same lastname. Are you related?" the judge asked.
"She's my mother."
"Your own mother is suing you?"
"Yes, and if you look behind me, you'll see her brother. He's next on your docket."
"She's suing her son and then her brother? Ma'am, I'm scared of you."And the best part is that after court, she'll fix us dinner. Why? Because "business is business, but family is family."
Ah, see, a nice family dinner after a public suing. All you need to round off your evening is for the government to bring back public executions, and you could have your desert and entertainment too.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
The World Is Full Of Fools
For those new folk, go here and scroll down to “The Beginning of a Nightmare.”
For you to understand Fool, I’ll have to remind you about a little conversation that I had with him. Hopeless had just gone to jail, and he called my house wanting to speak with his daughter, Pray-To God–She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless. This is what happened:
After a week, Fool called the oldest girl (lets call her Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless). He told her that he had gone home to his mother, and that he was damn mad that he couldn’t get to work, and asked if she knew where the “God-damn van was because he was just gonna do something really, really bad if he didn’t find it.” Aren’t ya just trembling in your boots now? Yeah, I was too.
Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless handed me the phone. “I ain’t been to work in days, and I want that damn van right now.”
“I thought you’d quit that job.” I took a gamble. The boys had told me this and I wasn’t quite sure it was true, but then too, I wasn’t dealing with the sharpest knife in the drawer either. In fact, if he had been a knife, he probably would have been equipped to cut cottage cheese. Maybe.
“Oh…I got another one two days ago, I told that damn Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless that already, shit. I need that damn van. Jerome gets to work; see that’s what I need to be doing right there. You know what I mean? I take care of my kids. Don’t no body take care of them kids but me, and I got to GET TO WORK TO DO IT.”
Talking to this man was like getting kicked in the head with a steal-bunny-slipper, if ya know what I mean. “Well, since you take care of them. The baby needs some more milk and diapers.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I take care of my kids. I gotta wait for the next bus. It comes in like 20 minutes and I’ll bring some, ‘cause I take care of them kids. Ya know? Them kids don’t want for nothing. What size diapers does she wear? Ok, ok, yeah, like a medium or something?” I told him no, a size 4. “Yeah, yeah, a 4, I remember. I get them all the time. I’ll be right there.”
Yeah, the world is full of Fools. Of course he didn’t come that day. But he did “do something really, really bad” because he couldn’t get the van.
We had gotten the kids together and brought them to my house to give them baths. It was almost all of them. The only ones that didn’t come was Don and Jon. They probably needed it the worst, but hell, who was I to say. OK, they stank.
Even doubling and tripling them up, it took a good long time to finish up. My brother-in-law gave them all hair cuts, and Pray-to-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless did the girls hair. It took us about three or four hours or so.
When we finished, we loaded them back up and took them home. They don’t live far, (yes, I want to kick myself in the ass for that one everyday. My husband and I moved away from Atlanta almost eight years ago, one reason was his family. Within a couple of years, they all had followed. But, alas, that is another tale for another day.) a few blocks, so the drive wasn’t long. Thank god…again. By the time this is over, I think I’m gonna own Him big.
As soon as we pull up into the driveway, I know there something wrong. But I can’t quite put my finger on it. Then one of the kids shout, “What happened to the door?”
That’s when I see it. There’s a big hole in the garage door—one of the panels is completely missing. My first thought is that the boys got to fighting again, and have broken it.
Beside me, Miss Debra, says, “Oh, shit.” Guess she was thinking the same thing. We all rush into the house, and up the stairs. The master bedroom was completely empty. There had been a bed, dresser, and a floor model TV in there, but all of it was gone. Again, I thought of the boys. I didn’t know what they had done with it, but to be honest I had completely forgotten about Fool.
While I’m standing there, not really able to say or do anything, Don comes up to me and Miss Debra. Don says that while he and Jon were gone, Fool broke the panel in garage door, opened it, snuck into the house and took the furniture. Let me also remind you, that the house is empty except for the bedroom furniture. Miss Debra kept the baby on that bed, changed her and everything.
Don and Jon said that one of the neighbors told them that “that man’s just broke the door to your house.” By the time they got there, Fool was pulling off in a truck with everything. Jon said he ran after the truck, and when he couldn’t catch it, he threw a big rock, and it cracked the window. Yeah, guess I can imagine him doing that, with his illness and all.
Fool threw all of his daughter’s clothes on the floor, leaving the room in a mess. But hey, he left the comforter. So they spread that out, for the baby.
Parenthood, it’s hard knowing the right things to do for your children. Of course it gets easer when you don’t break down doors to steal from them and their mother.
When Hopeless called, I told her what happened. She told me not to worry about it, that she would put out a warrant for him…FROM JAIL.
Can someone even do that? Shit, why am I asking, I’m just getting the hang of this, I might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.
#
Last time I had a contest. The person who guessed correctly what Fool stole out of that house, gets a copy of Dark Dreams, with features stories by yours truly, Zane, Tananarive Due, and L.A. Banks.
So, with no further ado, the winner is Sally Broaddus. Mrs. Broaddus, please send me your address, so that I can mail your signed (by me at least) copy.
For you to understand Fool, I’ll have to remind you about a little conversation that I had with him. Hopeless had just gone to jail, and he called my house wanting to speak with his daughter, Pray-To God–She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless. This is what happened:
After a week, Fool called the oldest girl (lets call her Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless). He told her that he had gone home to his mother, and that he was damn mad that he couldn’t get to work, and asked if she knew where the “God-damn van was because he was just gonna do something really, really bad if he didn’t find it.” Aren’t ya just trembling in your boots now? Yeah, I was too.
Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless handed me the phone. “I ain’t been to work in days, and I want that damn van right now.”
“I thought you’d quit that job.” I took a gamble. The boys had told me this and I wasn’t quite sure it was true, but then too, I wasn’t dealing with the sharpest knife in the drawer either. In fact, if he had been a knife, he probably would have been equipped to cut cottage cheese. Maybe.
“Oh…I got another one two days ago, I told that damn Pray-To-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless that already, shit. I need that damn van. Jerome gets to work; see that’s what I need to be doing right there. You know what I mean? I take care of my kids. Don’t no body take care of them kids but me, and I got to GET TO WORK TO DO IT.”
Talking to this man was like getting kicked in the head with a steal-bunny-slipper, if ya know what I mean. “Well, since you take care of them. The baby needs some more milk and diapers.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I take care of my kids. I gotta wait for the next bus. It comes in like 20 minutes and I’ll bring some, ‘cause I take care of them kids. Ya know? Them kids don’t want for nothing. What size diapers does she wear? Ok, ok, yeah, like a medium or something?” I told him no, a size 4. “Yeah, yeah, a 4, I remember. I get them all the time. I’ll be right there.”
Yeah, the world is full of Fools. Of course he didn’t come that day. But he did “do something really, really bad” because he couldn’t get the van.
We had gotten the kids together and brought them to my house to give them baths. It was almost all of them. The only ones that didn’t come was Don and Jon. They probably needed it the worst, but hell, who was I to say. OK, they stank.
Even doubling and tripling them up, it took a good long time to finish up. My brother-in-law gave them all hair cuts, and Pray-to-God-She-Won’t-Be-Hopeless did the girls hair. It took us about three or four hours or so.
When we finished, we loaded them back up and took them home. They don’t live far, (yes, I want to kick myself in the ass for that one everyday. My husband and I moved away from Atlanta almost eight years ago, one reason was his family. Within a couple of years, they all had followed. But, alas, that is another tale for another day.) a few blocks, so the drive wasn’t long. Thank god…again. By the time this is over, I think I’m gonna own Him big.
As soon as we pull up into the driveway, I know there something wrong. But I can’t quite put my finger on it. Then one of the kids shout, “What happened to the door?”
That’s when I see it. There’s a big hole in the garage door—one of the panels is completely missing. My first thought is that the boys got to fighting again, and have broken it.
Beside me, Miss Debra, says, “Oh, shit.” Guess she was thinking the same thing. We all rush into the house, and up the stairs. The master bedroom was completely empty. There had been a bed, dresser, and a floor model TV in there, but all of it was gone. Again, I thought of the boys. I didn’t know what they had done with it, but to be honest I had completely forgotten about Fool.
While I’m standing there, not really able to say or do anything, Don comes up to me and Miss Debra. Don says that while he and Jon were gone, Fool broke the panel in garage door, opened it, snuck into the house and took the furniture. Let me also remind you, that the house is empty except for the bedroom furniture. Miss Debra kept the baby on that bed, changed her and everything.
Don and Jon said that one of the neighbors told them that “that man’s just broke the door to your house.” By the time they got there, Fool was pulling off in a truck with everything. Jon said he ran after the truck, and when he couldn’t catch it, he threw a big rock, and it cracked the window. Yeah, guess I can imagine him doing that, with his illness and all.
Fool threw all of his daughter’s clothes on the floor, leaving the room in a mess. But hey, he left the comforter. So they spread that out, for the baby.
Parenthood, it’s hard knowing the right things to do for your children. Of course it gets easer when you don’t break down doors to steal from them and their mother.
When Hopeless called, I told her what happened. She told me not to worry about it, that she would put out a warrant for him…FROM JAIL.
Can someone even do that? Shit, why am I asking, I’m just getting the hang of this, I might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.
#
Last time I had a contest. The person who guessed correctly what Fool stole out of that house, gets a copy of Dark Dreams, with features stories by yours truly, Zane, Tananarive Due, and L.A. Banks.
So, with no further ado, the winner is Sally Broaddus. Mrs. Broaddus, please send me your address, so that I can mail your signed (by me at least) copy.
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