Why ruin another life

By Anthony Weathers

Step into the haunting world of "Why Ruin Another Life," a riveting tale that transports you to 1950s black Mississippi. Brace yourself for a captivating generational odyssey where a single event has the power to reshape destinies. Witness the gripping narrative unfold as an unsuspecting Black woman ignites a chain reaction of profound consequences, forever altering the lives of her daughter, granddaughter, and all those caught in the tempestuous whirlwind. Prepare to be swept away by the thunderstorm of repercussions that echoes through generations, teaching valuable yet painfully expensive lessons along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BooxAi
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9789655784510

Book preview

Chapter 1

Shawn is getting dressed for church. He is running late and must hurry because his friend, Paul D, is picking him up. The doorbell rings, and Shawn scatters to answer the door. Hey, Paul D, Shawn says, leading him into the apartment, I’m sorry, I’m not ready yet.

It’s a’right. We still got coupa’ minutes, Paul D says, waving his hand. First fifteen minutes ain’t nothin’, but the praise team stirrin’ er’rbody up anyway. I reckon we good for ‘nother fifteen.

Shawn begins tying the tie swinging from his neck. I’ll hurry, he says, I don’t want to miss the precession. My friend, Tanya, is leading the song. Let me get my jacket from the room. Shawn disappears into his room.

Hey, ya got a sodi pop in da frigidaire? Paul D shouts.

No, all I have is orange juice, Shawn calls back. Help yourself.

That’s too acidy for me, Paul D says, scrunching his face.

Acidy? Shawn yells from the bedroom. You think orange juice has more acid than soda? I’m sad to tell you, soda has two times more acid.

I don’t care, Paul D says, stomping his feet. I wants me a sodi pop. Orange juice give me dem old sour lips.

Shawn chuckles, What’s sour lips?

Like ya been sucking on a lemon or sumptin’, Paul D says, looking into the refrigerator.

Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try to save you from yourself, Shawn says, shrugging his shoulders.

Paul D grabs a pie out of the fridge and paces around the kitchen. I don’t need no saving. When da good Lord ready for me, neither yu or me can stop him.

Shawn hesitates and looks over his shoulder. Then I guess you got to take your behind to that corner store. Can the good Lord stop that?

What store ya mean? Paul D asks, with a mouthful of pie. Store down yonder there? Think it’s closed.

You’re so country, Shawn says, searching around the room for his shoes. You sound like Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, and them—like you’re from Mayberry or something. What’s the matter, Aunt Bee didn’t feed you before you left home?

Sorry, mister big-city-slickin’ man! Not er’rbody can be ‘fisticated like yu, Paul D says, licking his fingers, and God goin’ get ya for always funning with my accent.

Okay, Opi, don’t be goin’ gettin’ yur fiddle all in a twist, Shawn says, reaching into the closet. Listen, you—

The closet door falls forward, swiping Shawn on the bridge of his nose. Paul D hears the noise from the kitchen and runs into the bedroom to find Shawn sitting on the floor holding his nose. Paul D kneels down to Shawn. What happen?

The door came out of nowhere and just fell and hit me, Shawn says, nursing his wound as blood drips through his fingers.

Told ya God would zap ya, Paul D says, shaking his pointed finger.

Paul D! Shawn says, hitting Paul D’s knee.

Sorry, I’m just fooling. Let’s get ya up. Paul D helps Shawn to his feet.

With agitation, Shawn brushes Paul D away, Alright now, it’s not all that serious.

Ya bleedin’! I’m goin’ get some tissue paper out da outhouse, Paul D says, turning to leave.

Outhouse? Shawn says, slapping the bed. You’re in the big city now, Barney Fife. We don’t have outhouses here.

Paul D comes back and pats Shawn’s nose with the tissue. I’m just funning with ya. Just wanted ta see what ya say. Thought maybe that door knock some sense up in ya, but I can see that it didn’t.

Remember, I’m the sick one here, Shawn says, snatching the tissue.

I know, that’s why I be cartin’ ya ta da doctor now, Paul D says, picking Shawn up under the arm.

Come on, Paul D. I’m alright, Shawn says, resisting. I don’t want to miss church because of this. I told Tanya I’d be there to hear her sing solo.

Paul D grabs at Shawn, Ya get her next time.

There won’t be a next time, Shawn says, knocking Paul D’s hand away. You ever heard her sing? She’s not all that good. She must have bribed someone.

Good, so ya can ‘ford ta miss it then, Paul D says, handing Shawn his jacket. Now, we best be makin’ our way ta da hospita’. Put on this here coat.

Shawn pushes the jacket away and stands up.Paul D, I said I’m alright. Come on, if we leave now, we still can make it in time for the precession.

Nope, Paul D says, folding his arms and taking a stance. I’m not leaving here ‘less we be goin’ ta da hospital’.

What am I going to tell Tanya? Shawn asks, turning to Paul D.

Tell her there’s room on da usher board, Paul D says, extending the jacket. Now get ya hind part over here, and let’s go. God ‘point me head angel ta see after ya crazy butt. C’mon now.

Okay, okay, Gomer Pile, Shawn says, yielding to Paul D. Want him ta zap ya again? Paul D asks, staring at Shawn with his brow down. Thought not, then c’mon now.

Shawn and Paul D are in the hospital waiting room. We’re going to be here all night, Shawn says, nervously repositioning himself in his chair, and that’s why I didn’t want to come.

Paul D extends his hand to stop Shawn from fidgeting. What if ya got a ‘fection or sumptin’? No tellin’ who ya had up in there. I ‘magine thousand of lil’ grimy hands been opening and closing that door.

Shawn pops up, I can’t be waiting in here. I have things to do.

Who ya foolin? Paul D asks scolding him. Only thing this keeping ya from is some grease and dem nasty movies!

You’re telling on your own self, Shawn says with a smirk.

Nothin’ wrong with healing hands! Paul D says, throwing his hands up. Don’t have me be shoutin’ up in here!

Now, who’s gonna get zapped, Shawn says, looking around the waiting room. Actually, I think we’re in the wrong part of the hospital, Shawn says with a smile.

Paul D plops down in his chair, God, forgive me. Forgot myself. Been hanging ‘round yu too long.

Don’t blame me, Shawn says, sitting down and shaking his head. That’s between you and your Devil.

Paul D looks at him and says emphatically, Me? You’s da one upset ‘cause da devil won’t gives ya mo’ work ta do.

I wish they would hurry up, Shawn says, rocking back and forth in his chair, so I can get the hell out of here.

Don’t be gettin’ yur violin all in a knot, Paul D says in a snooty voice. They both laugh, Ya needs ya a sodi pop. Want a sodi pop?

No, I don’t want that mess clogging my system, Shawn says, waving his hands.

We in da right place ta snake it out, Paul D says, getting up. Want one?

I said no, Paul D, Shawn says, putting his hand up. Paul D eases up, realizing Shawn is under stress.

Okay…okay, where do ya think da vending machine be?

Irritated, Shawn looks up at Paul D. I don’t know, Paul D. Do you see a vending machine GPS on me? Go around the corner and look yourself.

Paul D walks away, Okay, see ya. Shawn leans back in his chair. While Paul D is away, the nurse comes to get Shawn.

I understand you got hit by a door? the nurse asks softly.

Shawn gets up holding his head. That’s right.

The nurse puts her hand on Shawn’s shoulder. Mister Thompson, you’re supposed to let the door hit you where the good Lord split you. She smiles. How did it get all the way up there?

Shawn chuckles. You’re funny. My super was supposed to fix this door months ago, but he kept putting it off. It keeps coming off the hinge.

The nurse motions for Shawn to follow her. Now, let’s see if you are becoming a little unhinged, shall we? Let’s take your blood pressure.

My God, you don’t miss a beat.

I can’t afford to miss a beat. There are lives at stake, Mister Thompson, the nurse says, walking into an examination room.

Shawn follows and sits on the examining table. Okay, I better stop while I’m ahead, Shawn says.

The nurse puts down her chart. Seems to me that I’m ahead. Now, pull off your shirt.

That’s what I’m talking about, Shawn says, taking off his shirt.

The nurse prepares the blood pressure cuff. Okay, you win, she says, taking his blood pressure. Blood pressure is a little above normal. You feel a little tense? Anxious?

A little… my friend came with me here, Shawn says, looking toward the doorway. He was very pushy about all this. He just stepped away when you came and got me. How will he know that I’m back here?

The nurse removes the cuff from Shawn. Don’t worry. I’m sure if he comes back and doesn’t see you, he will go to the front desk. Shawn rubs his arm. You don’t know him. He’s not all that bright.

Relax, it will all work out. Now, let’s work on getting that blood pressure down. Besides, you have enough to worry about over here, the nurse says, preparing the needle. I have to take your blood now, and it’s my first time.

What? Shawn says, pulling away.

The nurse winks back at him. Just a little nurse humor.

Shawn points to a vein in his arm, I guess this one?

The nurse inserts the needle, and Shawn yells, Ouch! You weren’t kidding, were you?

Hearing the scream, Paul D bursts into the room violently and pushes the nurse out of the way, grabs the needle, and starts yelling uncontrollably. Shawn and the nurse look at him in horror.

I’m not goin’ ta let anybody hurt him while I’m here, Paul D shouts. I’m ‘sponsible for him. Put a hand on him again, hear? I ring it off! Nobody goin’ ta be touchin’ him, makin’ him hurt. Ya just go‘bout yur business.

Perplexed, Shawn looks at Paul D, Paul D?

I’m not goin’ let nobody boss me ‘round, tell me what ta do, Paul D says, pacing the floor like a maniac. Nobody goin’ take ‘vantage of me or him.

It’s alright, Paul D, Shawn says, walking cautiously toward him. Look, I’m alright. She was just drawing a little blood, that’s all. Everything is alright. Shawn grabs Paul D and hugs him. Paul D collapses into his arms, breaking down and crying hysterically.

Shawn is being kept overnight in the hospital for observation. He is in a private room now. Paul D is sitting in a chair by his bedside. I knew I done da right thing when I brungs ya here. Want me ta go ta yur place and pick ya up a few things? Dem britches fresh?

Shawn looks at him, Paul D?

Paul D gets up to stretch. When ya think yur vittles be comin’? Wants me ta go fetch some for ya?

Paul D… Shawn says, trying to get his attention.

I’m a lil’ hungry myself, Paul D says dismissing Shawn. Think I’m goin’ have me one of dem super big macs, fries, with an orange sodi pop. Wants ya an orange one too? They don’t be having no juice—.

Hey! Shawn shouts, interrupting.

Paul D turns around. What is it? I have a lot ta do. I got ta get ya fed, got ta go ta yur apartment—.

Shawn interrupts again, Don’t worry about all that. You want to talk about what happened earlier?

Nothin’ happen. Just misunderstood, that’s all, Paul D says nonchalantly.

Come on, Paul D. We both know it’s more than that, Shawn says, wincing. I—I’ve never seen that side of you before. I almost didn’t know who you were. It was like you were a completely different person.

Okay, Paul D says, sighing. I come clean. I may be mild mannered Paul D by day, but at night, I’m da Incredible Hulk. Ya, satisfied?

Stop playing, Paul D, Shawn scoffs. You’re my friend, and I’m worried about you. In these few years that I’ve known you, I’ve come to think of you like a little play brotha.

What? Paul D asks, tilting his head.

Shawn chuckles. I’m only kidding, Paul D. I know I shouldn’t be playing at a time like this.

Time like what? Paul D asks coyly.

Shawn sits up in the bed. All jokes aside, I really want to know what happened back there. What caused you to go off like that?

I’m alright, Paul D says, shrugging off Shawn. The onliest thing we should be thinkin’ ‘bout right now is gettin’ ya better.

Shawn hits the bed. Paul D, will you stop? Look, when you asked me to go to the hospital, I may have fought you a little, but I went.

A little? Paul D asks, raising his brow. I practically had ta get a straight jacket for ya.

Okay, Shawn says, shaking his head. I fought a lot. The point is, I let you take care of me, and you know our relationship has always been tit for tat. So, now it’s my turn to take care of you. Will you let me take care of you, Paul D? Please let me take care of you, Paul D. Please.

Will ya stop whinin’ and carryin’ on? Paul D asks, scrunching his face.

Tell me then. Paul D sits down in silence. Shawn waits for a while, then continues to talk. You may have the broad shoulders, but even Superman needs to be taken care of sometimes. You can’t be the strong one all the time. Please, Paul D.

Paul D turns to Shawn. Okay, long as ya stop all this pleasing’. Who ya think ya are— James Brown or sumptin’? Next ya gonna be wantin’ me ta put on your cape while ya down on yur knees pleasing’.

"Will you stop making a joke of everything and tell