RIPPED & READY (S2/PART 36)

One more treat for you, one more excerpt from another 10 postings.  Happy 2010 .....

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RIPPED & READY (S2/PART 36)

 RIPPED & READY S2/XXXVI

            Fred wasn’t the only who made my bedrock; this little youngster had it rocking like a mahogany rocker, erratic and violently, and it was slamming up against the wall, beating a hole into it. It was the first time that I ever had my socks knocked off without the force of a fist or a dick.  I ain’t lying ya’ll, I was damn near on my knees, looking for those cotton muthafuckas like a crack fiend looking for that sliver of rock that might have fallen off of the proverbial glass pipe.  

            Now you can imagine that I was in a state of utter awe, hearing it flow off of the lips of a thirteen year old boy like it had.  I mean, come on, his little dick probably ain’t even got any seeds in the muthafucka, yet his mentality was like that of a full grown skirt chaser.  Ya’ll, this was fucking your boy up right here because it was nearly impossible to stop a bus without brakes from rolling down a steep ass hill.  Rafael’s narrow minded view wasn’t one he developed on his own – hell no, he picked that shit up in either, one of these damn songs he was listening to, or from some older fools with that caveman mentality. 

            Oh, I forgot, that was the rappers name. 

            How ironic was that?

            I took the time to explain to him, once again, that women were not objects to be pounced on during sex, they were human beings with the magical ability to re-produce another life and they deserved more respect than that.  I let him know that men who thought of women as nothing more than a means of getting their nuts off were selfish individuals with a total disregard for love and had flunked “Romance 101” so long ago that they were too old to be re-educated. 

            Surprisingly, he sat there and listened without interrupting and, judging by his facial expressions as I spoke, it seemed as if he were really making an effort to try and absorb what I was telling him.  The peace I saw in his eyes was telling me that, in a way, I had let him off the hook and that it was okay for him to show sensitivity and express tenderness to a woman. 

            He shook his head, agreeing with everything.

            “Do you know that Michael Jackson was a young boy when he sang about love so elegantly and romantically?” I asked him, coming up with an idea to teach him how to feel.

            “Awwww, that dude was crazy, Marco,” he said, snickering like an immature teen (Acting like he was supposed to be acting).

            “Okay, dude, I’m going to hook you up with some music that I want you to listen to for the next couple of weeks, no rap.” I told him, pitching him an idea that I hoped he would embrace. 

            “No rap music for a week,” he said, utterly stumbling backwards away from me. 

            I laughed because it was funny.  You see, entertainers just don’t know how impressionable young people were, and how much of an impact they had on the young mind, but, it’s also the adult’s responsibility to edit what they listen to.  Outside the home I know it was a hard feat, but within the home adults have total control and, I was going to exercise my rights as one to pull this child backwards a few years so that he had a chance to be a child. 

            I excused myself momentarily from his room and I went and pulled out some old Jackson 5 CD’s in my collection.  My approach included music and it involved my participation.  I wanted my moms and Danita to support me with this effort as well.  I was going to ask them to sit and listen to music with Rafael for an hour or so several times in the week. 

            When I returned with the CD’s, I gave them to him and he looked at the covers and asked me which one was Michael. 

            I told him the youngest one.

            He looked at me puzzled.

            “What’s wrong?” I asked him, just as confused as he was.

            “Why was he so dark then?” He asked, with a childlike innocence that almost made me laugh out loud. 

            I had forgotten that he had probably never seen Michael when he was younger. 

            “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you about soon, in the meantime just know that it is him, okay,” I assured him. 

            He kept looking at the CD cases perplexed.

            “Hello…” I said trying to make sure he understood the game plan.

            “Huh…Oh, I’m sorry, I just never knew he was dark like this,” he said. 

            Boy, I tell you, honesty, out the mouths of babes was sure a refreshing occurrence to behold. 

            “Okay, I want you to listen to one of the new songs with me, okay,” I said to him. 

            “Fo sho,” he said. 

            I put on “Childhood” and sat back and listened to it quietly with him. 

            Before the song ended, he was sound asleep. 

            Yes, that’s how it was supposed to be. 

            I rubbed him gently across the forehead, pulled the covers up closer to his chin so he wouldn’t get cold and quietly said, “Goodnight, Rafael”.

            It was a moment that truly inspired me. 

            When I returned to my own room I was inundated with feelings of love that didn’t include those that came along with sexual intimacy.  I had a youngster holding onto every word that I was saying and I felt powerful and renewed as if I were that first feel of warmth on a spring morning, like I was saying goodbye to the rigid coldness of a winter where nothing had grown.  It was something new that felt so wonderful within the core of my being, like I was necessary in this entire scheme of existence. 

            The experience was changing me as a person and I was becoming somebody designed to bring change and administer hope with my deeds.  If I had to explain what I was feeling and put it out to you in the form of a musical climax, I suppose it would be the chills brought on by a long note blown by an accomplished saxophonist.  Waves and waves of joy were rising up within me and I knew that I had been changed at that very moment. 

            Peewee’s inner demons and insecurities were causing him unrest and he seemed intent on destroying anything around him because he wasn’t happy with himself.  I mean when I summed everything up, what sort of life was this man living with goons on every corner of his being?  Yes, I was dealing with a restless soul who wanted to use me as a scapegoat to mask his sexuality but I was determined to bring him to his knees.

            I’ve got God on my side, and I knew his power and wisdom would see me through everything.  The D’Andres and Collins of the world were not about to suck me into their torment because I knew who it is I was…

            I was a child of someone magnificent. 

            (Lights Out)