NYC_924
08-11-2003, 08:38 AM
By me: Cheril N. Clarke
Inspired by a close friend of mine J.J. Johnson aka "Blackspeare"
http://www.geocities.com/blackspeare
"A Day With Melvin"
"I wish you was sleep right now, I'd crack you in the head with the
remote and pour water on you!"
"Esther, go play in traffic, okay?"
"Old bastard! I'm sick of you doing this mess. Why don't you go get
some help?"
"Woman, I'm sixty-two years old, I ain't gettin' no help."
"Well you need to do something."
"I'm a grown ass man and if I pass gas in my sleep then too bad! We
been married more than thrity years, I don't know why the hell
you're just now bringing this up."
"Well, Melvin, the older you get, the stinker you get. You're rotten
ass is toxic, you killin' me, man."
"Plug your nose! I'm going back to sleep."
Esther kicked her husband Melvin in the leg and turned over in a
huff, mumbling, "Shouldn't nobody's ass stink so bad it wakes up
other people."
"You're the one feeding me pork chops, collard greens, potatoes and
gravy! I don't want to hear another word, Esther."
"Hmph."
Melvin, an average sized oack complected man with a slight belly and
thinning black hair was the owner of a small hardware store. Esther,
a thin woman as slender as a candle-wick and a little taller than
him with rich chocolate skin and shoulder length gray hair was a
seamstress in their hometown of Columbia, South Carolina.
It was four-thrity in the morning when they settled back into sleep
after bickering. Melvin and Esther was high school sweethearts who
married not long after graduation. Melvin, a retired Airman has been
running his store for about nine years. Their only child was killed
in a fishing accident many years ago and the only addition to their
marriage was their pet Cockatiel, who Melvin teasingly named, Turkey.
When the early rays of the sun bled into the pre-dawn sky, light
poured into their bedroom as the blinds swayed fromt he incoming
wind through the cracked window. After stretching, Melvin walked
sleepily to the bathroom while Esther slept. Usually he wakes up
slenetically, snapping at Exther if she wakes up before him and
purposefully wakes him up. Melvin doesn't even approve of the alarm
clock. I'm retired, I wake up whenever I finish sleeping, shit! he
once told Exther. But even in his early morning grumpiness the
possibilities of him waking up after eight-thirty were grave, he
really just didn't like to be disturbed while sleeping.
_________________
"Damn it, I can't find my wallet, Esther. Have you seen my wallet?"
"No, baby, I haven't."
"You sure?"
"Raaaarrrk. I know. What you willin' to trade for it?" the bird said.
"What the hell," both Melvin and Esther paused, "Did you hear---" he
asked her.
"Turkey? Did Turkey just talk?" Esther asked.
"Okay so you know I ain't crazy! Turkey, do that again," he asked
but the bird did nothing.
After waiting a few moments and hearing nothing, Melvin continued
searching the living room and small kitchen for his wallet.
"Melvin, I'm leaving now," Esther said.
"You ain't gon' help me look for it?"
"I have to go now. Go check the pants you had on yesterday," she
said, pionting to the bedroom before going out the side door.
"Squaaarrrrkkk. I know the wallet, ha ha!"
"Turkey? You say something?" he questioned, walking closer to the
square metal-bar cage.
"Well it wasn't the damn radio, shit. Give a bird some credit and
stop callin' me Turkey, I hate that shit!"
"I'll be damned, since when did you know how to talk?" Melvin asked
in amazement, delaying his wallet search.
"Mel, I've been listenin' to y'all yap for seven years, how dumb do
I look? I just don't like mingling with y'all."
"You gotta be shittin' me. I must be dreaming. Lawd, stop playin'
with me. I'm too old."
"I know where the wallte is but under conditions, I'll tell you!"
"Huh?"
"Number one, don't call me Turkey, that's racist and as a black man
from the south I expect better of you. You don't hear me
sayin' , 'nigga where's my treats?' do you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Aaark, you heard me!"
"You must be smoking or maybe you need to be smoking. Where's my
wallet? Shit, I'm talking to a bird, I need a smoke."
"Wh-wh-what don't you understand about under condition?"
Melvin burst out laughing, "And you have a speech impediment!"
"Don't tease me, that hurts my feelings!"
"I'm sorry, Tur-What is it you want to be called?"
"Thurgood, or Malcolm, Ali, something with power, not a punk ass
Turkey!"
"Okay, Ali. I have to go," Melvin said finally going to the pants he
had on the day before. "Found it! Listen, Turkey, I'll see you
later," he said and rushed out the door.
"Stinkin' self," the bird mumbled.
_________________________
www.cherilnclarke.com
to be con't ( i wrote this in one of my classes last semester)
Inspired by a close friend of mine J.J. Johnson aka "Blackspeare"
http://www.geocities.com/blackspeare
"A Day With Melvin"
"I wish you was sleep right now, I'd crack you in the head with the
remote and pour water on you!"
"Esther, go play in traffic, okay?"
"Old bastard! I'm sick of you doing this mess. Why don't you go get
some help?"
"Woman, I'm sixty-two years old, I ain't gettin' no help."
"Well you need to do something."
"I'm a grown ass man and if I pass gas in my sleep then too bad! We
been married more than thrity years, I don't know why the hell
you're just now bringing this up."
"Well, Melvin, the older you get, the stinker you get. You're rotten
ass is toxic, you killin' me, man."
"Plug your nose! I'm going back to sleep."
Esther kicked her husband Melvin in the leg and turned over in a
huff, mumbling, "Shouldn't nobody's ass stink so bad it wakes up
other people."
"You're the one feeding me pork chops, collard greens, potatoes and
gravy! I don't want to hear another word, Esther."
"Hmph."
Melvin, an average sized oack complected man with a slight belly and
thinning black hair was the owner of a small hardware store. Esther,
a thin woman as slender as a candle-wick and a little taller than
him with rich chocolate skin and shoulder length gray hair was a
seamstress in their hometown of Columbia, South Carolina.
It was four-thrity in the morning when they settled back into sleep
after bickering. Melvin and Esther was high school sweethearts who
married not long after graduation. Melvin, a retired Airman has been
running his store for about nine years. Their only child was killed
in a fishing accident many years ago and the only addition to their
marriage was their pet Cockatiel, who Melvin teasingly named, Turkey.
When the early rays of the sun bled into the pre-dawn sky, light
poured into their bedroom as the blinds swayed fromt he incoming
wind through the cracked window. After stretching, Melvin walked
sleepily to the bathroom while Esther slept. Usually he wakes up
slenetically, snapping at Exther if she wakes up before him and
purposefully wakes him up. Melvin doesn't even approve of the alarm
clock. I'm retired, I wake up whenever I finish sleeping, shit! he
once told Exther. But even in his early morning grumpiness the
possibilities of him waking up after eight-thirty were grave, he
really just didn't like to be disturbed while sleeping.
_________________
"Damn it, I can't find my wallet, Esther. Have you seen my wallet?"
"No, baby, I haven't."
"You sure?"
"Raaaarrrk. I know. What you willin' to trade for it?" the bird said.
"What the hell," both Melvin and Esther paused, "Did you hear---" he
asked her.
"Turkey? Did Turkey just talk?" Esther asked.
"Okay so you know I ain't crazy! Turkey, do that again," he asked
but the bird did nothing.
After waiting a few moments and hearing nothing, Melvin continued
searching the living room and small kitchen for his wallet.
"Melvin, I'm leaving now," Esther said.
"You ain't gon' help me look for it?"
"I have to go now. Go check the pants you had on yesterday," she
said, pionting to the bedroom before going out the side door.
"Squaaarrrrkkk. I know the wallet, ha ha!"
"Turkey? You say something?" he questioned, walking closer to the
square metal-bar cage.
"Well it wasn't the damn radio, shit. Give a bird some credit and
stop callin' me Turkey, I hate that shit!"
"I'll be damned, since when did you know how to talk?" Melvin asked
in amazement, delaying his wallet search.
"Mel, I've been listenin' to y'all yap for seven years, how dumb do
I look? I just don't like mingling with y'all."
"You gotta be shittin' me. I must be dreaming. Lawd, stop playin'
with me. I'm too old."
"I know where the wallte is but under conditions, I'll tell you!"
"Huh?"
"Number one, don't call me Turkey, that's racist and as a black man
from the south I expect better of you. You don't hear me
sayin' , 'nigga where's my treats?' do you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Aaark, you heard me!"
"You must be smoking or maybe you need to be smoking. Where's my
wallet? Shit, I'm talking to a bird, I need a smoke."
"Wh-wh-what don't you understand about under condition?"
Melvin burst out laughing, "And you have a speech impediment!"
"Don't tease me, that hurts my feelings!"
"I'm sorry, Tur-What is it you want to be called?"
"Thurgood, or Malcolm, Ali, something with power, not a punk ass
Turkey!"
"Okay, Ali. I have to go," Melvin said finally going to the pants he
had on the day before. "Found it! Listen, Turkey, I'll see you
later," he said and rushed out the door.
"Stinkin' self," the bird mumbled.
_________________________
www.cherilnclarke.com
to be con't ( i wrote this in one of my classes last semester)