When I’m dead, point them here.
Chapter One.
It’s summer break and Mo is beating my ass once again on the basketball court. He is a future all-state running back. Every time he drives down the lane, I feel like I’ve been hit by a mack truck. He lowers his shoulder. Plasters me to the asphalt. Yells “game”. Mo then helps me back up to my feet. I utter something under my breath about an offensive foul. He says…
“You think I got this good, playing by the rules?”
Chapter Two.
I’m shoveling driveways after a snowstorm in Indiana. My father shows up in his Timberlands, holding a bag of rock salt. He drops the bag at my feet, pours out his coffee, hands me the cup. He says…
“Sprinkle this on the driveway and charge $10 more.”
Chapter Three.
My grandmother came to America dead broke. Now she’s got $30,000 wrapped in tin foil in the freezer. Every time I step foot in her house, she reminds me to save. She says…
“How much money you got? My grandson is gonna be rich.”
Chapter Four.
I got a college degree, but I’m tearing out carpet for $15 an hour because I can clock out by noon and spend the rest of the day working on my craft. First day on the job, my boss mark hands me a roll of duct tape, a utility knife, an address and a set of keys. He says…
“So you want to be a writer?”
Chapter Five.
I’m twenty-three, and I get a phone call from an investor in Belarus. His name is V. He tells me he’s gonna fly me out to Minsk to write advertising for his companies. When he asks me how much it’s gonna cost, I say the number and then I stutter. He says…
“After you say the number, shut the fuck up.”
Chapter Six.
The IRS says I owe them $70,000. I don’t have it. I blew it on drugs, alcohol, women, flying first class when I should’ve been flying coach and gambling in the stock market like I’m Jordan Belfort. I get out of the shower dripping wet, press my forehead to the floor and pray. God says…
“Stop pretending you’re a superstar and I’ll foot the bill.”
Chapter Seven.
I take an elevator up to the 67th floor, walk into the boardroom and tell them it’s gonna cost seven hundred thousand dollars. I want to speak to end the silence but i remember V. So instead, I shut the fuck up. They say…
“Alright, let us run the numbers.”
Chapter Eight.
I announce I’m starting an advertising agency and some old heads in the industry start taking their shots. I write down their names on a piece of paper and keep it at my desk. I read them aloud, like I’m hungry. I read them aloud, like I’m a cannibal. I read them aloud, like I’m Arya Stark. After each name I say…
“Give me three years, I’m gonna eat you.”
Chapter Nine.
I’m twenty-nine and I’m forced to exist in my own home under a fake narrative some false idol wrote. I lose my mind. I lose my voice. I lose my friends. I lose my reputation. For the first time in my life, I learn silence. I open the Bible. It says…
“And as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”
Chapter Ten.
A man cannot step into the same river twice, because it is not the same river, and he is not the same man. When I gaze at my reflection, I no longer see a boy but a man, standing on the shoulders of giants. His lips are moving, and so I lean in closer. He says…
You’ve walked through the fire, now enjoy the water.
Chapter Eleven.
To be continued.
