Page 33 of June: When Gangstas Collide

I scrolled page after page on my phone, trying to figure out how I was able to come out of this name issue. I still had yet to tell Z that our marriage wasn’t legal. How was I supposed to tell her that she wasn’t a Calloway? That the man she married was a John Doe. A nigga with no true identity. Zaria’s hand landed on my shoulder.

“I’ve been calling you. What is wrong?”

I glanced up at Z, and my mouth slowly opened, but I couldn’t get shit out. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Fuck! It was like I had come so far, and I was getting kicked ten steps back. If I told her, she would probably butter the shit up like it was nothing, but to me, it was everything. If you didn’t have anything else in the world, at least you had your name to stand on, and I didn’t even have that shit. Gathering my thoughts, I stood up from the bed, kissed Z on the cheek, and left the house.

I followed the GPS to the Mercier house while I tried to think back as far as possible to see if I could remember if I had been called anything other than June, and I couldn’t, and it only pissed me off more.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

I shouted.

My car hit corner after corner as my emotions began rising to an all-time high. Who the fuck was I? If not June, who?

Before I knew it, I had pulled up to a mansion twice the size of mine. The valet began to approach my car, but I stepped out before they could reach it. I brushed past them and went straight to the door. I knocked and waited for someone to answer. When the door opened, it was Clark.

“You’re late,”

he muttered.

I raised my chin and glared at him.

“No, I’m on time. My time.”

He gave me a sinister smile as he stepped back to let me inside. Stepping into his home was like walking into a palace. I wondered if he thought this shit impressed me somehow because it didn’t. It further let me know he was just another rich nigga who used his money as a tool to terrorize people. He was going to find out I wasn’t one of those ones.

“You want a drink?” he asked.

“No. I want to—”

“Clark. Johnathan. Mercier,”

I heard Cynthia’s voice.

My eyes traveled up the foyer to see her standing there. “Granny,”

I replied dryly.

I wasn’t sure why they were expecting some welcoming greeting from me, but a dinner invite wasn’t going to change how I felt. My coming here wasn’t about them, but rather to find out what I could about my mother. To clear the air so that I could move on from them. When I got to Toussaint, the purpose was to meet my mother before I died. However, God chose a different path, and the nigga was still on my neck. At first, it was me being sick, and once I fought back, it became this deadly beef with Bishop, and now it’s a nigga’s name. God was applying pressure, and for the first time, I was breaking.

Cynthia stood there and stared at me.

“Dinner is ready, come,”

she said as she moved her hand to direct me and Clark into the dining room.

Clark tapped my shoulder as he passed me and followed behind her. I took a deep breath as I entered the dimly lit space. When my eyes landed on my sisters. I knew the bullshit was only about to begin. One of the housemaids pulled out my chair, and I stopped her.

“I got it. You don’t have to serve me,” I said.

The laugh of a madman filled the room, “That’s what we pay them for. When you—”

“I’m not letting your help serve me. Clark, you know I’ve been trying to figure you out and every time I get nothing. Just a house nigga repeating the cycle of his oppressor.”

Cynthia gasp. “Clark!”

My head shot her way.

“It’s June and what? You’re not too far from him, Granny.”

Indigo giggled as her eyes raised to me. Tania sucked her teeth.

“What are you laughing at? He’s disrespecting our grandparents.”

Cynthia patted Tania’s hand.

“It’s ok. He’s a little angry.”

Clark cleared his throat.

“Let’s eat, shall we?”

I glanced over the table as they began passing bowls and plates of food around. When Cynthia handed me a plate of turkey, I almost threw the fuck up.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

she asked.

“I don’t eat meat. I’m vegan.”

“Really?”

Indigo started.

“I thought about it. Maybe you can tell me where to start.”

Tania dropped her fork and swung her head at Indigo.

“Girl, please, stop.”

I leaned back as my arms crossed over my chest.

“What’s your problem? Since the day I met you, you’ve been acting pissy. At first,”

I pointed at her.

“I understood. A new nigga comes around and you don’t know me, probably felt like I was stepping on your toes of what you and Indigo had going on. Maybe grieving over Grace, but the shit is still going, so tell me, Tania, what the fuck the problem is?”

I watched her demeanor shift. She looked uncomfortable, and I took pleasure in it. I wanted her to feel uneasy, out of place, misunderstood, and judged, just as they have been doing to me. My lip curled up slowly into a smirk. Tania’s body shifted in her seat as we stared each other down. I wanted her to break because as soon as she did, I had a tongue lashing for her ass.

Indigo cleared her throat as she swung her head between Cynthia and Clark.

“So why are we all here at dinner?”

Cynthia took the napkin in her hand and dabbed at her lips.

“I figured what better way to get to know,”

she cleared her throat. “June,”

she leaned her head my way.

“Then to have him over for dinner.”

“Lies,” I said.

Clark slammed his hand on the table.

“This is my goddamn house, and you will respect it!”

He pointed at me.

“Nigga you invited me. I told you to do your homework on me, but it’s clear you still have to do that.”

Tania huffed.

“What type of homework needs to be done. You’re a stray who came to us. You came to our home and called yourself, trying to—”

I couldn’t believe this shit.

“Call myself what? Trying to find out where I came from? You know nothing about me so let me tell you. I’m a nigga from California. A nigga who was given up because these two,”

I pointed between Clark and Cynthia.

“Felt like my mother didn’t deserve to have a child. It was I who was put in the system, and nobody gives a fuck about a little Black boy with no parents. I went from house to house. Abused, deprived, isolated, and treated like a fucking slave because I had a family who threw me away and didn’t give me a chance.”

Indigo leaned forward.

“Clark, I’m so sorry.”

Clap!

I pointed to her.

“And that shit right there. A name I don’t claim. Clark, I don’t know who that is because the name I struggled behind is June. Yet Grace had two more kids who were sitting in front of me, spoon-fed, spoiled, selfish, and entitled. Sweetheart, you are not the only sibling.”

“Spoon fed!”

Indigo shouted as she shot up from the table.

“We had luxuries, we did, but Grace is no goddamn martyr. She was evil, conniving, and out of her goddamn mind!”

she shouted.

“How dare you!”

Tania shouted at her.

“She was our mother.”

I sat back and watched the two interact. It surprised me that the twins had nothing in common. It was apparent they looked at Grace differently. Tonight was beginning, and I had some shit I was going to get off my chest.