Eye of Ra Read Free Page B

him down. He muttered a curse under his breath as she was the last person he wanted to see.
     
    “Boy don’t be cussing in my presence, bring yourself over here.”
     
    He forgot about her keen hearing even though she was in her late eighties. He shuffled over to her glancing every place else but her eyes as she stood there gripping her wooden cane to help with her bad legs. He kept his distance knowing despite her age she was a veritable samurai with her walking aid when needed.
     
    “How are you doing Ms. Smith?” He respectfully nodded.
     
    “Boy, you were raised better than that …look at me when you address me.”
     
    He begrudgingly forced his eyes to meet her disapproving face. It was harder to keep eye contact as he also saw the look of deep concern behind her harden visage.
     
    “How have you been?”
     
    “I’m aight,” he shrugged.
     
    “Don’t lie to me boy …I see you’re still messing with that poison,” she scowled. “What are you doing to yourself? Running around doing God knows what with this scraggily looking child that looks like she needs five square meals in her! This was never like you! Do you have any idea what this is doing to your father seeing you like this?”
     
    “Hello Mrs. Smith, how are you doing on this fine day?”
     
    The deep voiced greeting came from a man one shade darker than Laurence wearing a low cut afro. He wore a simple white shirt with black slacks, his staple attire for work. Two inches shorter than Laurence, Mr. Danjuma was an older mirrored version of him possessing much of the solid strength in his physique that he had both lost and given away to drug abuse and poor living.
     
    “Hello Douglas,” Mrs. Smith turned to him. “Look who is here.”
     
    “I see that you are up and about,” Mr. Danjuma smiled. “Are you well enough to go to church this Sunday, will you be needing a ride?”
     
    “Yes my dear, thank you kindly,” she smiled.
     
    “Great,” he nodded. “If you will excuse me, my son has come to talk to me about something.”
     
    His father’s eyes met his for a brief second before heading back into his apartment. Laurence took one step forward only to feel the sharp point of Mrs. Smith’s cane in his gut halting him again.
     
    “I better hear when I get back that you are staying to clean your life up!”
     
    She gave him one final hard poke in the gut before letting him go.
     
    “And you too!” She stuck a finger in Rosemary’s face startling her as she walked pass her.
     
    “Crazy old …”
     
    “Keep your mouth shut.”
     
    Laurence turned to her daring her to say something disrespectful about the old woman. Rosemary cut her eyes while reluctantly remaining silent. She followed as he continued down the hallway to his father’s apartment.
     
    He walked through the door uncomfortable to be in a place he used to call home. Nothing much had changed. The paint was still the same faded peach color. The scent was still musky with a mixture of tropical fruit and plants the old man kept in the house. All the reminders that he was home felt foreign to him now.
     
    As they entered the living room, Laurence instantly saw that coming to talk to his father was a huge mistake. Mr. Danjuma’s demeanor not only projected that he was not pleased to see his son, he took a defensive stance in the center of the room as if he was ready to go to blows with Laurence if need be.
     
    Laurence also eyed what he had within his right grip. The household fourteen-inch machete, meant for cutting coconut, sugar cane, and uninvited guests.
     
    “What’s with the blade pop?” Laurence narrowed his eyes at him.
     
    “To do what needs to be done …if I am forced to,” he locked eyes with his son.
     
    “So that’s meant for me?” Laurence threw up his hands letting out an arrogant chuckle. “You plan on cutting me down, your own son?”
     
    “What do you want Laurence?” His father got to business with an iron