Copi

They pushed her off the cliff. All assuming she had fallen to her death, the crowd dismantled. No one waited long enough to see that she had survived properly. The fall was fierce. Instant gushes of wind maneuvering her flow for landing, hair as velvety as can be; she thumped. Into a head of lions feasting on an already dead body for supper, she thumped. “Oof”, murmured Copi as she slowly scurried away from the herd. No blood pierced through a pore on her flesh of fate. The lions were too consumed thrashing into the flesh of another, Copi managed to crawl out from under. During her escape, she saw a little black book. Drenched in blood, it embraced Copi’s intrigue to grab it swiftly and run.

“Goodmorning, mommy” said Cotton. Hey, my baby, I replied with a hint of depression and hope. “Momma did you”--- sssshhhhhhh!!!!!! Maude insisted on instant silence. Cotton knew the protocol. What was that noise?, asked Maude. I don’t know mommy, it’s probably grannydaddy pulling up, Cotton replied in anticipated acceptance. Go and look out the blinds to see if that was your grannydaddy, Booty, Maude asked. Okay momma, Cotton replied in haste. No ma’am, it’s not him momma, Cotton reported. Okay boo, Maude replied.

“Mane, when they gon’ send me my money?, Maude yelled. I’ve been patient, I ain’t been stealing no more, I ain’t been doing nothing wrong. I changed my ways, Maude added aloud. Momma, who are you talking to?”, Cotton asked. “Baby, I don’t have anyone to trust to talk to so I’m getting it out my head best way I know how,” Maude answered. “Well, I’m hungry,” Cotton replied. And so we went to Mickey D’s up the street in our hood of Castalia. All I have is usually enough for two McDoubles and a dollar French fry. That’s right after I call ten cards of mine in my wallet that I pray at least something lands on it before I get to the cashier to pay. Someone usually has pity by the time I hit the line and then some make me count every penny. Either way, we both get to eat our cheeseburgers and share our value fry just so the hunger pain subsides. My ex hated when I did that. He was disgusted by my presence for being so poo and struggling for so long.

“I had another dream last night Cotton,” Maude said anxiously awaiting on her 9-year-old to respond. “About what?” Cotton asked with excitement. I felt someone push me and I just kept falling,”Maude said. Well momma, I had a dream about unicorns in a Sprinkle Candy World and---no really Cotton, this felt real life. All of a sudden, I remember grabbing this little black book and I just woke up from there. Momma, unicorns are real, Cotton added. I know, Booty, I know, I replied with deep worry. I just couldn’t stop thinking that the black book had meaning to my purpose in life. I mean, in all else, why was I denied on everything I ever desired. Maybe this book would help me clean the poop my dad smears on the walls and the toilets when he gets mad at his LeBonheur co-workers for treating him like crap. He has been there for 27 years. He won’t quit even though he is a famous guitar player around Memphis. He would rather be a janitor than be who he is called to be. I don’t knock him though. Dreams are scary.

Ever since he has met Fanny, well I call her ‘Fanny Pack’, he has traveled bugs though his clothes to our house. Now every time I open the refrigerator or out one dresser drawer full of clothes, bugs run out like bats outta hell. I barely be wanting to breathe again but I get up so I can cook breakfast on our one eyed stove that works. I have to cook the meat first, like the sausage and bacon, then the bread in the oven while the scrambled eggs cook last. I live another day. Pretty lame, huh? But hey, at least we eat food minus the roach legs. One time, I saw a dead roach in my cooking grease. I was amazed at how dumb this bug could be to drown in cooking oil. But just as desperate as that bug was to see what good smell that was to be willing to risk it all, I was desperate for a new oven, a new washer and dryer and a deep freezer for all my extra meats. I love to cook. Cooking on one eye has been so draining but some people don’t eat at all.

My desperate bug mentality was kicking in. How was I going to make a dramatic change in my life at 32 without becoming a whore on Lamar or a stripper? Somehow, that dream wouldn’t go away, I figured as usual, if I told someone about my weird dreams that they’ll go away, yet I embraced this particular dream even with telling a bit to Cotton. With my family disowning me for not being normal, I needed a chance to prove to myself that by faith, all things are possible. I sit here in these four walls telling you my story because they are closing in on me. I cant hold down a job. My baby daddy left me early on and my ex of 5 years broke up with me because I was poor for too long. He was grooming a 48 year old lady who is successful because she entered in the FedEx Small Business Competition and gained the recognition she needed selling her baby shoes. Damn, life can suck. I thought he really loved me, but this little black book though. I can’t shake it. No matter what I do, if I had that money I could change things not only for my good but the masses as well. And so I got an email from the University of Memphis. It said, I was accepted into the Masters Program of Technical Writing. Here’s the desperate bug part: I had no money, yet again. It says I need 3300 to payoff the debt I owe to get my Bachelors of Arts mailed to me and then I can enroll in my courses.

My dad has one bathroom. I live with my dad. Ever since his heart attack I have been here for 5 years. The money I did receive I put into the house. 2500 for the new toilet and sink and flooring along with decorations, I had nothing left. The old pleather L-shaped couch he had when we came was peeling profusely, I ran my credit for new sofas from Conn’ furniture that he picked out totaling 2,000 bucks. Every warehouse I obtained, was short lived, I only had enough for gas and giving my mom money for watching Cotton. And that was something she ever wants to do unless she believes I’m out selling my body and she profits but she’ll never admit to that, yet I know indefinitely. What a beautiful singer she is; voice of an angel.

University of Memphis said I was accepted, but I’m still lacking funds. My eligibility for financial aid estimated $20,000 in unsubsidized loans. I’ve been writing in this little black book that my mom gifted me for Christmas way before this dream transpired. Guess this was a sign…grab it swiftly and run.

Sincerely,

Copi