Rescued By the Love of a Real One

1

TyKym

N ah, nigga, give me my money, I barked at this nigga who was gonna make me catch a fucking case.

I hated niggas like this. You know the ones who come to the gambling spot with every dime they own in life. Then, when they start losing and shit, they wanna talk about how they got kids and bills. All that shit should’ve kept their asses away from the spot if they felt that way about it.

Come on, Ty. Man, you know I’m out here hurting and shit. I was trying to get some money up to get my kids’ layaway out, Sam’s lying ass said like it was gonna move me.

Do I look like the fucking complaint division of this motherfucker to you? I don’t care how you do it, but I want my fucking money. I don’t know why you do this shit every damn year. You know damn well you don’t have money, but you always trying your fucked-up luck. Either you give me what you owe me, or we gonna have a damn problem in here tonight, I told his ass.

Ty, man, don’t do that nigga like that. You know his situation. Give the man a pass, my brother, Kylan, said with his overly sensitive ass.

You’re my brother and all that, so either you gonna give me my money or he is. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. Motherfuckers know what it is when they see me with the dice in my hand. I don’t know why everybody wanna act brand new to this shit, I said, standing straight up and crossing my arms over my chest.

These niggas acting like I was a nigga who really cared about the Christmas spirit and all that other shit. In my eyes, Christmas was just another damn day. I stood there and waited for someone to figure out what the next move was going to be.

See, everybody knows how I give it up. I’m TyKym Hassell better known as TyTy or TC. I stood six feet five inches and a solid two hundred and fifty pounds. I had tattoos everywhere but my face, dick, ass, and feet. If you caught me in a suit, then you saw me at a funeral. Other than that, I wore jeans or sweats, sneaks or boots. Don’t fuck with my brother or my money, and you’ll live to see another day, which brings me back to this stupid shit I’m currently dealing with.

This nigga Sam does this shit every fucking year. He knows damn well he needs to take his ass home and explain to his wife that he doesn't have shit for them bad ass kids for Christmas. Instead, he comes here and loses his money then comes up with a sob story and wants everybody to go easy on his ass. I don’t have one lick of easy in my blood, ya heard. Now, this old ass nigga was standing there looking for a damn miracle like he was in a Tyler Perry movie and shit.

How much he owe you? my brother asked.

Three thousand dollars. What you gonna do ’bout it? I asked him. He looked like he had some shit to say, but instead, he dug in his pocket to count my money.

Take this shit, even though you not hurting for shit. Kylan put the money in my hands.

You betta do whatever this man says for the rest of ya life, nigga. He damn sure just saved your shit, I told Sam.

He looked like he was mad as hell with my ass. I didn’t know why, though, because I didn’t tell his ass to gamble his money and damn near his life away. He just walked away not saying shit.

You see why I don’t give a shit about these motherfuckers out here? You just took your money and paid his debt, but that nigga can’t say thank you. Where the fuck are people’s manners these days? I asked.

Your big ass is gonna fuck around and make somebody shoot your ass. You didn’t have to talk to that damn man like that. Keep fucking around. Him and his kids gonna jump your ass, he told me.

I walked away just in time because my damn phone was ringing. I knew off top who it was. I pulled my phone out and answered it to get this conversation over with.

Yeah? I answered.

Why you didn’t answer my FaceTime? I wanted to show you something, Modella said.

Well, being that I’m at the gambling spot, I didn't think you wanted everybody to see ya playing in ya pussy. Then again, you’re a stripper, so you’re used to that type of shit, I told her.

How do you know that’s what I wanted? she said, trying to sound innocent.

I knew just like she did that her ass hadn’t been innocent since she was five years old.

When have you FaceTimed me with clothes on? I asked. Just like I expected, her ass got quiet as fuck. Like I said, I’m at the spot, and I don’t know what time I’m leaving. I’m going home when I leave, though, I told her.

Well, I guess there’s no need to keep you on the phone then, she said, so I ended the call.

Is there anybody your ass isn’t rude to? How do you know she didn’t have anything else to say? my brother asked.

To answer your first question, I’m not rude to you. As for Modella’s ass, she knows the deal. She wants to fuck, and I don’t, so there’s no need for us to keep talking to each other, I said with a smirk.

You’re still out here playing games with these females. Don’t you get tired of going home alone at night? he asked.

Here he goes with the settle down speech. I swear this nigga acts like he’s the oldest. Since he got married and shit, he always slides some shit about me settling down in the conversations. I was used to it. Just like all the other times, I chose not to address it, but then I changed my mind.

I’m gonna keep it a buck with you. Sometimes I get in the mood to want to know how it feels to lay next to a female for the whole night. Wake up to her cooking breakfast and all that good shit. Then, I know that if that happens with any of the females on the current roster, they’ll lose their damn minds and think that we a real-life couple and shit. I will not be involved in any couple like activities with any of the chicks that let me fuck and dip or send me nudes just because. I’m good on all those chicks. Fucking and dipping, that’s just what I do, I told him.

Keep playing, your ass gonna need somebody one day. No, it’s not gonna be me, Kylan said.

He always talked about how I was gonna be alone. I’d never needed anyone but him, so shit, in my mind, I’m living my best life. Fuck everything else.

Who else is ready to pay my ass tonight? I said when I got back over to the craps game.

I played a few more games, collected five thousand more dollars, and Kylan and I headed out. It was late as fuck. I was tired and just ready to go to sleep. We both walked to our cars. He was parked beside me just like always.

Are you coming to dinner Sunday? he asked.

I’ll think about it, was all I said. His ass laughed because he knew that meant I wasn’t coming.

Kylan was all in with the whole family thing. He had a girl and a son named KJ at home. All I had was my pit bull named Motherfucker. I was cool with his girl and all that other shit. The problem came in when I fucked her sister and her cousin. In my defense, we had a damn threesome, and I thought they were just like best friends or some shit. I mean, I knew that the one girl was her sister, but the cousin is the one I thought was a friend.

Anyway, all the shit went down, and we were at dinner the next day or some shit, and these bitches start talking about cuz this and cuz that. I finally asked were they like blood cousins or fake cousins. When they said blood cousins, I cussed all their asses out. Some niggas might get turned on by fucking the family and all that freaky shit, but not me. It turned into a whole big episode of Love and Hip Hop. You know the whole bitches crying and all that. I told their nasty asses don’t touch my plate, my silverware, my nephew, or my damn brother.

Now, when I go over there, they’re always trying to say hi and shit. I just look at them, call them nasty bitches, and walk away. I try to keep my visits down because I’ll fuck around and punch one of them in the face then go disinfect my hands afterward.

Yo, TC! somebody called out.

Before I could turn around, the force of the bullet going through my shoulder threw me into the car. I couldn’t get myself together or see who it was before I felt four more bullets. I was just talking shit and joking around a few minutes ago, and now look at my ass laid out on the cold ass asphalt and leaking everywhere.

TY! Come on, nigga, look at me. Bro, stay with me, I heard Kylan saying to me. These niggas gotta pay for this shit, bro, he said, right after he started shooting back at whoever shot me.

I could hear the shells hitting the ground.

I tried to look up and see him, but it was like he was coming and going. I would see him one minute, and then I couldn’t see anything at all. I thought my eyes were open but, I couldn’t see a motherfucking thing.

Excuse me, sir. Let me get in here, some chick said.

Don’t let my brother die, yo. He’s all I fucking got, my brother said.

Is that nigga crying? I must be real fucked up.

I could feel someone pressing on me and doing some other shit to me. I didn’t know what they were doing exactly, but I could feel them.

Michelle, we gotta call it. It’s been long enough, some white sounding dude said.

I’m not giving up on him, Gary. He’s gonna live tonight. This could be my son one day. I’m not gonna let it go because it’s not his time. Yeah, Michelle, tell that motherfucker what the deal is. Fucking shame.

Your son is not gonna turn out to be some gangster, he said.

I hope not, just like you hope your son doesn’t grow up to be the Unabomber. If you’re not gonna help me, then shut the fuck up and get out of the way, she said.

I hope her ass not ugly. Lord, please don’t let her look like a damn gorilla.

I knew it! I got a pulse, and it’s strong too. Let’s get him up and get him to the hospital fast, she said. There was some movement. I’ll ride in the back with him. You just drive, she said.

I’m gonna have to report this, he told her.

I’m doing what I’m trained to do, and that’s save lives. Can you report me after we get this man to the hospital? Maybe by then, I’ll give a fuck, she told him. I heard doors close. Please hang in there. I need you to live for your brother. Just like you’re all he has, I’m all my son has, she said.

I didn’t think she knew I could hear her, but I did. I damn sure did.

2

Michelle

We got the man to the hospital, and, of course, Gary reported my ass just like he said he would. I had been a paramedic for almost ten years, and here I am about to lose my job. I admit I was pissed about it, but I wouldn’t change shit from that night. It had been a week, and when I last checked on the man, he was getting out of ICU.

Ms. Walker, come in my office, please? my supervisor Mr. Roberts said.

I walked in and chose to stand, knowing this wasn’t going to take long. He had that ‘you’re fired bitch’ look on his face.

You can have a seat, he told me.

I’d rather stand, I replied.

I don’t want to do this, but, I have to let you go. You disobeyed an order given to you by the senior paramedic on your team. Do you have anything to say about that night? he asked.

I just want to say that, at that moment, the procedure was dumb as hell. Just like I told Greg, it wasn’t that young man’s time. I could feel it in my bones. I did what I always do, and that’s follow my gut. I became a paramedic to save lives not give up on them when I know I can help, I said.

I knew he didn’t give a shit about what I had to say, but it had to be said. The procedures were dumb as fuck.

It wasn’t his time? How the hell do you know when it’s someone’s time? You are not God. A paramedic is all that you are, and as a paramedic, you have to adhere to the rules that are placed on you. You could have caused brain damage to the patient. The procedures are there for a reason. We have never had this problem before. This is unlike you to disregard everything for some thug. I have put together a sufficient severance package. Clean out your locker, he told me.