In Atlanta VI… Chapter 6

I have never been good at showing my emotions.   I do not wear my heart on my sleeve and that is very intentional.  Throughout my life, I have heard the little things that people have said about me.  “Karla is mean as hell.   She thinks she all that.  She is a bitch…. yada, yada, yada.”  I never fought the statements or allegations, because most of the time that is exactly what I am.  I didn’t intend to be this way…  Or did I?   What boggled most people was that Jacinta and I were best friends.  Jacinta would give you the shit off of her back in a blizzard.  I would have told your ass that you needed to be prepared and then zipped up my jacket and kept it moving.   I guess this why people were confused about our relationship.  If someone told Jacinta that they thought something negative about me, should would tell them that they didn’t even know me to say what they were saying.  One thing is for sure.  She is my friend.  I am her friend.  There is only so much in this world that can come between this friendship.  Talking crazy to me or about me isn’t one of them.  Truth of the matter, if Cint was in a blizzard, I would take my shirt off and give it to her.  That should tell you something.

According to this GPS navigation system, if Cint is indeed sick, the ambulance is not going to be able to find her ass.  It is like going in circles in this neighborhood.   I finally find the street and the house and I have to sit in my car for a second.  Not sure what I am about to walk into. So I pray.  My prayers are confidential.  It is my agreement with God.  I just need him to make sure that he keeps this defense wall of mine up while I am in here with Jacinta.  We all can’t be broke down. The fact that Chico has been insistent on keeping this on the hush, makes it more stressful.  Something has to be very wrong for Jacinta to be moving like this.  She never wanted to come back to Atlanta.

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The phone is just ringing and no one is picking up. I hang up and I call right back.  This time, Cint better answer the damn phone.  We talk at least three or four times a week and just because she is sick doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t talk to me.  Something else must be going on.  Finally…  “Hello!”  It is Cint.  “Who is this?”  Did she just ask me who this is.  “It’s Charlie fool!  Get up are you even out of the bed.   What are you doing?  What kind of sick are you?”  I am giving her my 20,000 questions interview and not letting her get a word in to answer. “Girl, I must have been sleep.  Chico is in front of me now, asking me who am I talking to.  I mouthed “Charlie”.  He writes on a sheet of paper that she doesn’t know anything and all he told her was that I wasn’t feeling well and that is why I haven’t returned her calls or texts.  “Cint!!  Are you spaced out?  Don’t tell me you high.”  The minute that I mention the word high, I could have torn my tongue out.  I know that this is a trigger for Cint.  She didn’t believe in getting high.  She has never smoked or gotten drunk for that matter.  She said that she didn’t like not being in control of her thoughts or actions.  I can live with that, but if someone passes me that faithful margarita, I am taking it.  “Look, I didn’t mean that last thing.  You know that.”  I hear silence on the phone and in my head I am still thinking that she is upset with me about something.  “No it’s cool.  I am chilling.  What’s going on with you?”  I can tell that she isn’t upset, but something in her voice is telling me that she is not giving two fucks about what the hell I am up to and she is avoiding to tell me what is going on with her.  I make up a lie and tell her that I will call her right back, because my son Luke is beeping in on the other line.   She actually sounded relieved…  Ain’t that a bitch. “But I am calling your ass back, so answer the damn phone!”

I hang up the phone with Charlie.   I am relieved that she was still the same Charlie and that I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edge wise.  I didn’t know what I would tell her and whether or not I wanted to tell her that I was back in Atlanta.  Hell I am still trying to figure out what Chico and Nicole just told me about my mental breakdown a few moments ago.  Too many people and too many things are swirling in my head.   I know that I can’t go back to Florida.  This is the biggest objective.  I am still thinking of ways  as to how I would handle the situation if I was truly confronted again.  These are the thoughts that cloud my mind.  At this point, it isn’t the cancer that is going to kill me, it is the state of Florida.   Cancer doesn’t scare me….  The state of Florida does.

I find myself thinking about the people that I left in the “Doom Room”.   I start to feel guilty about them.  I am wondering if Carol’s husband decided to come and visit her after all.  She didn’t mind being in the “Doom Room”, she just wanted somebody on the outside to love her enough to just answer the phone when she called and to come and visit her from time to time.  Isn’t this something that everybody genuinely wants?  Susan is still in her robe sitting at a prison table trying to figure out why no one will help her get out of her situation.  She is highly educated, financially well, and is one of the top lawyers in the state of Florida.  Her parents are still on ice.  I am sure if she was still in that swanky uppity environment, this would have been a no brainer and she could have gotten herself together.  Instead, those rich ass “friends and colleagues” of hers took her business and left her ass in the “Doom Room” to rot.  Damn shame.  Your mind is already a prisoner because of the mental illnesses.  So instead of someone treating that problem, they lock your entire body up and now you are in double jeopardy.

I can see that Cint is thinking, she has this spaced out look on her face again.  “Cint, I am eating your pecan waffle cause you clearly don’t want it.”  Now this surprises the shit out of me.  “Oh yeah, go ahead.  I know you must be hungry, especially with the baby.”  Ok, stop the press!  Jacinta isn’t big on sharing something off of her plate.  She will make plenty so that you can have plenty, but eating off of her plate is something totally different.  Even Chico looked up when she said that I could have her waffle.  I don’t argue with her ass,  I go right ahead and butter that damn waffle up and I am halfway through it as Chico is over there trying to convince her that she needs to eat something.  Sick or not, my big ass is hungry.

I am still siting in my car praying. My phone vibrates again.  This makes me ask God about how people just don’t have any etiquette.  I am up here talking to you and this thing keeps going off.  “WHAT!”  I have no idea who is calling me nor did I look at the screen before I even answered it.  Either way, attitude is present and whoever it is, they are disturbing me.  “Karla, this is Charlie!  You talk to Cint?”  Jesus here we go…  “Hey, I have not spoken to her directly but I will be giving her a call shortly.  What’s going on?”  I clearly am sitting in the driveway of what is now considered Jacinta’s house.  I didn’t lie that much.  I hadn’t spoken to her yet, so technically, we are still on even playing field.  I think Charlie is a hoot. However, I have to be in the mood for her and her foolishness.  I guess today is not her day for that.    She genuinely sounds concerned and for that matter, me getting off the phone with her is more important that anything that she has to tell me.  At this point, I can see and hear shit from the horses mouth.  “Charlie, I am in the middle of something, I will have to call you back.”  She is steady talking and asking questions like always, but I hang up.  My bad.

I ring the doorbell and I hear Baylor running through the house barking. I know that I have the right house when I hear him.  Chico comes to the door and he lets me in.  Every room in this house is filled with moving boxes, except for the occasional piece of furniture.  “Chic, what the hell done happened?”  He leads me into the den and on the sofa I see Jacinta and Nicole talking.  Ok, so Nicole is here too.  Jacinta has a strange look on her face when she sees me and this is odd.   “Babe, what the hell is going on?  I thought I told you not to tell anybody that we are here.”  Cint is actually upset about seeing me?  This can’t be right.  “Well hello to you too!  I heard you weren’t feeling well, what’s going on?  Why don’t you just go to the doctor and we can sort all of this out?”  Nicole gives me the “wait for it” look.

“Karla, that’s just it.  Jacinta doesn’t have any doctors here.  We will need to find doctors that can help her with her special case.  I am hoping that you can help us assemble a team of doctors that we can hire privately.”  What the fuck!  I am starring at Chico like he must be crazy.  I still don’t know what the hell is wrong with her.  She seems off, but nothing like the two of these folks are looking.  “Ok.  One of yall need to come up off of some information.  I can’t help what I don’t know shit about”.

Cint starts to tear up and Nicole suggests that she goes to lay down.  Now I am really pressed to know what the hell is up.  Nicole comes back down stairs and asks me if I drink wine or dark liquor straight…..  “Dark”… What kind of shit have we gotten into now?

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