{ Consolement }

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My Daddy has paid the rent
and the insurance man is gone
and the lights is back on
and my uncle Brud has hit
for one dollar straight
and they is good times
good times
good times

My Mama has made bread
and Grampaw has come
and everybody is drunk
and dancing in the kitchen
oh these is good times
good times
good times

oh children think about the good times.

Good Times
~ Lucille Clifton

   Good Times~ Lucille Clifton

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It goes without saying that I was never setting foot near Les Inferno again. After a while of being tucked into Zeke crying I was able to suck it up and walk on my own. Since then Zeke and I had dropped off Regina and Yolanda at both of their houses, they each gave me a hug as we parted ways.

Now it was just Zeke, Mylene, and I. We were currently walking up the steps to her apartment complex. She and Zeke walked side by side with me trailing slightly behind still sniffling. I stayed on the steps as Zeke walked to Mylene's front door with her so he would have some time to talk to her alone.

I sat myself down on the steps wrapping my arms around myself and pull my legs to my chest. I stared at the ground in shock at the events that took place in Les Inferno. El Viejo had always been nice to me. We met when I was doing some of my designs on the side of a building. He wasn't with the Savage Warlords then. He was just living on the street. We clicked as friends from the first conversation. I had even met his brother, Napoleon.

"Oh fuck, Napoleon." I shudder out burying my face in my hands. I hoped to God he wasn't at Les Inferno with him.

El Viejo and I had gotten to be really close friends, almost as close as Dizzee and I are, but one day he came down the alley with a signature Savage Warlords jacket thrown over his shoulders. With bruises and cuts littering his face and arms. I was worried, but then I caught sight of the jacket and I was angry. We had an argument and we both said things we didn't really mean. He was my friend, but we never spoke again. We would see each other on the street, but we didn't talk. Then I saw Napoleon with a matching jacket and I couldn't even look at him anymore.

"Let's go" Zeke mumbles as he passes by me. He doesn't slow his pace as he passes me. I stumble to my feet rushing after him when I hear him sniffle.

"Zeke, what's wrong?" I yell and chase after his fast pace. He turns the corner moving into the sidewalk not bothering to answer me.

"Zeke!" I scream again.

"What!" He screams twisting back to me. It was then I noticed the tear stains trailing down his face and the matching red eyes that told me everything and the fact that he still had the record in his hands.

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