Thursday, October 11, 2007

Elders talk it over...

Aunt Yvonne lit up a cigarette and plopped down in her chair nearest the front window, her “neighborhood watch seat”. We sat on the sofa across from her.

“Paul, you know damn well, that John ain’t bit mo’ thinkin’ ‘bout no GED than that damn dog o’ his.”

“That maybe so, ‘Vonne, but these kids need somebody to keep talkin’ it up. Maybe somethin’ will get into their heads. You know how wild we were at his age. Who knows what turned me around out them streets.”

“Chil’, will you go get me a beer? I got some sodas & juice in there, too if y’all want somethin'. I think I got some cookies & chips in ‘ere, too. Bring 'em out here.”

I stood up, “Daddy, you want somethin' to drink?”

He glanced up and grinned at me, “Yea, I’ll take a beer, too, please. Thanks, Susie.”

“Paul, I’m tellin’ you, these damn kids ain’t like we were. They ain’t got respect for nobody. Yea, we did our li’l shit, but they on a whole ‘nother level. We wasn’t gettin’ locked up every time you turn aroun'. These damn kids'll shoot you as quick as speak to you.”

“’Vonne, kids are still kids. They just want guidance. Tha’s why they keep gettin’ locked up. Parents ain’t guidin’ ‘em, so they going up ‘gainst the other authorities. I still think kids want to know that everybody ain’t gave up on ‘em.”

“A’ight, Paul. You keep your faith in ‘em. But I’m just saying you betta watch yo’ back and ya damn wallet ‘roun’ ‘em.... Thank ya, baby.” Aunt Yvonne reached up to take the beer I extended to her.

I handed Daddy his beer, put the snacks on the low coffee table in the center of the small living room, then reclaimed my seat on the sofa. I munched chips and listened to my elders banter back and forth about the future of my cousin, John.

“I know what you sayin’. I ain’t completely out of touch, 'Vonne. I figure if John don’t call me ‘bout his GED I ain’t gonna keep houndin' him or come lookin’ for him. But if he do call me, what harm is there in helpin’ the boy? It ain’t no skin off my back to drive him to the city college and help him in enroll in the program.”

“Shit, you betta sit there and take every damn class with him. That boy don’t do nothin' like he ‘sposed to. He don’t show up nowhere regular unless it involves drinkin’ a forty, smokin’ a blunt or a damn dog to fight.”


...an excerpt of a work in progress by The Writeous1
*click on image for source.

10 comments:

ana said...

Stumbled here by chance...and hey what do you know, I found myself reading snippets from here and there...

Mind if I join in?

Ramblings...acVernon Menchan said...

That took me there,,,lovely...

blessings,
angelia

David Sullivan said...

Looking forward to more!

Mizrepresent said...

Excellent dialogue, me too, looking to read more...see i loves me some down home talking, and real characters in my reading, and you've done exactly that, Righteous indeed.

Mega Rich said...

That was on point. I like that southern flava myself. Good down home folk in stories. I was right in the living room with them.

Femigog said...

uhm I'm hooked! I gots to know whats going down with John! More please! And I already love Pops...

writeous1 said...

Ana - i guess u liked what u read here since u want to "get in on it";-)

Angelia, David, Miz & Rich - all that feedback is greatly appreciated. THANKS! This is a new style for me. I generally write erotica - but I saw so much of that already posted here, i thought I'd post something different. Thanks again! Good to be here!

Sojourner G said...

Sing that! I felt like I was on the porch at Big Mama's house.

BloggersDelight said...

Writeous1 we are proud to have you in our "home". Thank you for sharing this "new style" of yours. It works well.


Ana - if we don't make it to your place soon send us an email and we will gladly add you to our list of contributors.

CapCity said...

i'm diggin' this, too, writeous. i love good dialogue;-).