Page 27 of Grand Master

I woke up in my comfortable bed. Not a moldy mattress on a trap house floor nor a couch with cigarette burns or the backseat of my Pop’s car.

My bed. Clean sheets, the smell of bleach with a faint trace of citrus cleaner still clung in the air.

I smiled slowly, although it hurt because I was sure my momma put up a good front since Pops was home.

It’s all I asked for my birthday was to be able to spend my birthday weekend with him and momma at our ‘real’ home. Not some trap house.

I didn’t think pops would agree, in fact when I asked him, he said nothing back to me.

The request wasn’t just for me; it was for momma.

I worried about her each day I spent away from her.

She had given up on calling pops, begging him to come home.

It hurt me that she hardly asked about me, seemed like she only cared about his presence only.

I told myself that it was okay if momma really did feel that way.

Pops was here before me, and it took the both of them to create me.

Pops came first, plus, I still saw the love in momma’s eyes regardless of the drugs whenever I did come home.

I hoped that today brought her happiness, and that she could give me some love.

Because lately I had been deprived of it.

The more time that I spent with Pops made me realize that I had turned into somebody else.

I sat up slowly rubbing my face with the back of my hand.

My room was quiet and for once even the silence didn’t feel dangerous.

It felt peaceful. I got up out of my bed in a rush to lay eyes on momma.

I walked down the long hallway and stop when I heard her humming softly to Mary J Blige “Share My World” crooned lowly through her radio.

I stopped at the doorway and observed her.

She was in her robe, hair brushed and tied back.

When she turned to the side to stir the pot on the stove, I saw the powdered makeup.

She put makeup on to cover the splotches in her skin.

Her eyes looked bright, a little too bright, and her hands trebled slightly as she continued to stir the pot.

She was trying and that meant more than what she would ever know.

She wanted this every day. Her family, the same family she worried about for days in a row until Pops decided to bring us both home.

She wanted to wake up every day to cook for us, to sing and feel good.

How could we continuously want love from her when we were never here to give her the love that she too needed?

She must have felt my presence; she turned to me with hopeful eyes and smiled before speaking.

“Happy birthday, Kenny baby.” Her smile went wide and reached her big eyes.

My bottom lip trembled; I stood still trying my hardest not to cry. My chest felt too full of hope. I wanted to believe that things would change for all of us. Most importantly, I wanted my parents off of drugs.

“I made your favorite. Cinnamon toast with no raisins. When you get back up to your room after breakfast, check your bookshelves.” She winked then placed her finger over her thin lips which told me to keep it between the two of us.

Excitement coursed through me; I loved momma’s gifts because they were meaningful. She knew that I still loved my personal research. I managed to create a small mini lab at Pops trap house down in the basement that even he didn’t know about.

“Go on and sit. Your daddy’s coming back soon.” She said just as I heard the front door open.

I heard his heavy boots and keys jangling as he moved through the front of the house.

Seconds later he stepped inside rocking his tailored black coat.

The gold on his chest and wrist looked like he just got all of his jewelry clean.

His cold eyes landed on me first but this time when his gaze met mine, he didn’t look through me.

He carried a long narrow wooden case under his arm.

A gift? That was foreign because pops never gifted me on my birthdays. He always acknowledged them; there were just never big gifts.

“Get up, boy.”

I stood instantly just as he placed the case on the table then flicked open the brass latch. Inside was an antique chess board, the wood dark and slick. The pieces were made out of marble.

“This is a King’s set. It’s time you learn the game for real.” He stated in his deep raspy tone.

Hesitantly, my fingers hoovered over the knight piece. It looked fierce ready to charge.

“This isn’t just a game,” he said, voice flat. “It’s your life, and one day, the board will be real bodies, real consequences. It’ll teach you to never be caught off guard.” He continued as his dark orbs shined with pride as he talked.

I glanced over at my momma; she quickly turned away fast. I caught her reflection in the kitchen window over the sink.

She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand and tried to steady herself.

Her act was slipping; she needed another hit for her antsy nerves.

I wondered what pops would do if he found out that the love of his life was on the same substance that he sold.

I let the negative thoughts go; Pops brought me home a gift. Although I never too much liked his teachings since they were always so brutal. It was the thought that he put into buying this for me that mattered the most to me.

We all sat at the table as a family, ate, and made small talk.

Momma disappeared to do lord knows what afterward.

I sat with pops at our kitchen table. He taught me how to open with a pawn.

For the first time, I felt his approval, it made me feel good inside.

My knight had ended up taking his bishop.

My father had smiled. It was the first win that I ever had against him.

“Happy birthday, son. I love you, always remember that.” He said just as his phone started to ring.

He stood and picked up one of his ringing phone and answered without saying hello.

“Stay right here, don’t touch my other phone, and don’t move my king.” He said and walked out of the kitchen.

I sat perfectly still, eyeing the board like it held secrets.

I wanted to see my Pops smile again, that rare flash of pride.

I wanted to hold onto this version of my life a little while longer before it shifted back into what it really was.

My impulse to move the pieces on the board became overwhelming.

I rubbed my hands down my pajama pants then heard the sound of a spoon clatter against the floor.

Something told me to stay seated, but my curiosity always got the best of me. I knew it was momma.

I end up walking slowly down the hall, heart tightening with each step.

I made it to our guest bathroom that none of us used.

Momma was crouched near the bottom drawer under the sink with her back to me.

Her hands visibly trembled anxiously as she tried to open a childproof cap to a pill bottle.

A glass pipe rested on the floor next to a burnt spoon.

The powder was already lined. My stomach twisted and the happiness that I felt at the start of the day vanished.

“Momma?”

She jumped like she’d been shit in the back as she spun my way with wide eyes.

“Oh! K-Kenny, I was just—” She clamped her mouth shut as she looked at me and realized that I already knew.

Her robe hung loose around her shoulders, the fake brightness from this morning was gone, washed away in guilt and withdrawal.

“I’m sorry baby,” she casted her eyes down. “I was trying to wait until tonight; I just needed a little something to hold me over.” Several tears dropped down her beautiful sunken face.

“Please, go back in the kitchen. I don’t want Kendrick seeing me like this.” She gave me her back not waiting for my own set of pleas that I was ready to give to her.

I stepped backward like the floor had shifted because my insides did.

I slammed the bathroom door shut and went back into the kitchen and sat right back in front of my new chess board.

I stared at it while forcing my raw painful emotions down.

My father’s king sat untouched, and across from it, my knight stood proud.

“I’m losing my parent’s…but I’ll never lose my own game of chess.”