Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
When the dreams first started coming, he was smoking so much weed and getting black-out drunk, he convinced himself that it was all in his mind. Some shit his imagination had cooked up like a fresh batch of crack cocaine.
Now that he was sober and living a fairly drug-free life, with the exception of the time he’d gotten high as a kite for his birthday, the dreams kept coming, one more intense than the last. He turned on some music, starting with Nate Rose’s, ‘Egos.’ Then, he went to check the thermostat. It read seventy-two degrees, but felt like an inferno.
Maybe it’s broken. I might have to call Axel to get someone over here to take a look.
He went to his laundry area, grabbed a small electric fan, and brought it back into the bedroom. Plugging it next to the bed, he turned it on high, then removed his black satin boxers and slid back into bed, butt ass naked. The fan did a good job cooling him off, and it wasn’t long before he fell into a good sleep. His eyes fluttered open when he suddenly heard his name being called…
“Legend! LEGEND VIDAL!”
Caught between the dream world and reality, he couldn’t break free from the grasp of inertia. He tried to open his mouth, but struggled to get any sound out.
“That’s right! Just be quiet! You’ve been talkin’ enough jibber jabber. I have tapped on yo’ door six times! Each time, you did not answer. You just slept right through it, woke up, remembered, and went on about yo’ merry way. Now, you’re experiencing a little sleep paralysis. How do you like it? It ain’t fun, is it?”
He swallowed what felt like a glob of mucous that was jammed in the back of his throat, and clenched his teeth. Every muscle in his body started to burn. He wearily looked beyond the smoke in his dream and saw Mrs. Florence sitting there in a large silver chair. Her black wooly hair was pulled back and she wore a light blue headband. Large, pink glossy lips were curved in a smile, but her eyes were tapered, as if she were peering at a speck of sparkling dust she wished to investigate, just in case it was a diamond.
“Legend, I hate to have to do this to you, boy, but you’ve left me no choice. Axel told you to stop ignoring me. You didn’t listen. I tried to come to ya gently, and you’d just roll over, pretend you ain’t see me sittin’ here. You think I enjoy this? I could be playin’ the piano, watching over family, or running with the dogs and cats. That’s right, there’s animals here, too. I see you got three dogs of your own. Tank, Dior, and Trigger. I know their names. You love them. You always did like dogs.” She smiled proudly. “You’d bring strays home and ya mama would hoop and holla ’bout it because you were always doing that, and she said wasn’t enough scraps to feed ’em all. You’d tell me about it, complaining and sad as you were, ’specially when she’d make you take them back outside.”
Another type of warmth filled him, this one of pure comfort. Pleasurable contemplations packed his mind, memories he hadn’t given much time and attention to as of late. Like all of those strays he’d find on the streets, out and about. A few abandoned by their owners, others born in the wild. Sometimes, Mama would let him keep a couple; other times, she’d want them gone. Tell him he had too many. He found a way to make money off ’em if a couple good ones had puppies. Mama was okay with it when that happened.
Melanie, however, was scared of dogs back then. That made things harder.
“Now… I want you to tell me, Legend, why you haven’t lived up to your promise to me?”
His vision blurred and he started seeing double when Mac Miller’s, ‘Kool Aid & Frozen Pizza’ started to play. She repeated her question, but her voice sounded like someone talking in Chinese, underwater… yet somehow, he knew what she’d said, over and over.
“…I can’t do it. I made you that promise ’cause you were dying. I was a kid…”
“That promise wasn’t for me, Legend. It was for you. Look at you… all that untapped potential inside of ya, just like when you were a little boy. All that black and blue rage… that tattered and torn courage… All of those freckles, golden eyes with green specks, like rare gems. Hair so dark it rivals the moonless evenin’ sky. Such a unique lookin’ child you were… such a unique young man. Shrewd. You made good grades, but fought every day. You were aggressive. Vicious. Rough. Behind those eyes was a sadness that tore at my heart, boy. You were pretending to surf the ocean waves, while drownin’ in the baby pool. My baby… my dear baby boy…”