Samuel

POW!

Samuel had suddenly awakened in bed, drenched in sweat from what seemed to have started off as a good dream that somehow transformed into a nightmare in a matter of seconds. He glanced down at his Techno Pave watch and noted the time to be approximately 2:22AM. It was entirely too early in the morning for all this shit, he thought as he climbed out of bed and made his way over to the bathroom to freshen up with a nice, hot shower.

While bathing, he had come to realize that this was the third time he had experienced this same dream, and it troubled him because he had yet to understand the significance of it. The thunderous sound of gunfire would always disturb his fantasy, and it would always be right before he could decipher the symbols displayed in his subconscious state of mind. Some dreams are just that—a dream. They only have meaning if one gives it meaning. With that thought in mind, Samuel finished his shower, then went back to bed.

Samuel walked into the living room and found his mother resting at the dinner table, pouring over what appeared to be a stack of bills. Things have been difficult for them since his father suffered a massive heart attack and passed away a few years back. In his wake, Ezekiel left behind a ridiculous debt that had to be settled from gambling habits that were never broken up, leaving Akina to fend for a family of three.

It isn’t fair that mom must do it all on her own, Samuel thought, feeling responsible. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Hey, Ma. What’re you up to?”

“Hey, baby! I’m not doing much of anything. Just flipping through some mail.” Akina sighed before saying, “What’s with that sad look on your face, sweetie? Talk to me,” his mother said, expressing her concern when she saw the sadness in his little sparkly, brown eyes.

Though it pained him deeply to see the eviction notice she tried to cover up, Samuel mustered enough strength to smile at his mother and told her: “Don’t worry, Mama. I’m gonna do all I can to help, because I don’t wanna see you in here crying again. Trust me, okay?”

Akina looked on in amazement as her only son walked out of the front door with the weight of the world on a grown man’s shoulders upon his own to try and find a way to provide. Society, she reckoned, was a dangerous place for all Black men in America no matter their geographical location. Samuel was no different from all the other young brothas who were either victims of circumstance, or victims of the prison system. There was nothing she could say that would make him come back right now, given the situation, so she silently prayed over her son and left him in God’s hands. “In Jesus’ name…Amen.”

The Wrights lived over on Canal Court, approximately two blocks east from where Samuel stood at the current moment. Normally he would have taken the long way home after going to see Tabitha, just so he could enjoy some piece of mind before going back to face the harsh truth of their reality. But for some odd reason Samuel felt as if he had no control over his skinny legs that seemed to be guiding him someplace.

What was so uncanny also seemed rather familiar when Samuel noticed he had accidentally cut through the wrong set of bushes on the block before his, because for the life of him he could not figure out how in the world he ended up in the alley behind an abandoned chapel he had never attended before. And how was it that he remembered where it was?

Déjà vu?

Samuel was suddenly caught up in the surreal sense that he had lived through this present moment before, because he was actually standing behind the desolate chapel he had envisioned in his dreams the past few nights ago. Cautiously, he stepped through the opening of the fence and advanced on the property with a clear vision of what to search for inside. Once he arrived at the back exit door, Samuel peeped inside the quiet building to listened for sounds of unexpected company.

After confirming the coast was clear, Samuel tiptoed down the debris-filled isle of broken glass and wall decorations pass the charred pews and choir booth, then disappeared through another door which led to a dark room. This must be where they kept all the music equipment, Samuel thought, taking in the structure of the space.

Accidentally, he tripped and fell backwards on his rear end, holding his lower leg. “Shit!” Samuel exclaimed in grief.

Then mysteriously, there it was. A navy blue backpack that was slightly covered by a charred piece of rosewood next to the burnt drum set. The same backpack he had noticed in his dream. Forgetting his pain but for a minute, Samuel reached out a hand to take hold of the loose strap and pulled the bag free from its bind. To his surprise, there were stacks of large bills inside the bag along with a note and a little black book.

All that it said was RUN!!!

“Hey!” someone yelled right before firing a shot in Samuel’s direction.

Instinctively, Samuel leapt to his feet and began running for his life. He could hear two men talking to each other as he attempted to escape the chapel with the hair on his head and skin on his back.

“He’s got the book. Get him!”

With every fiber in his body, Samuel ran at top speed through the room, back down the isle and through the exit doors at the rear. He could hear bullets zipping pass his head as he cleared the chapel and darted for the street. Distant police sirens became louder as deputies closed in on the area to try and bring justice and order to the community.