The Blackbirds Song

Chapter 11

I started following him everywhere. Months passed, and he showed no sign of an upcoming release. I continued to wonder what the heck he was here for.

One day, Michael's mother came to visit. They had planned it in advance, which was just what I needed, to execute a plan of my own. 

'Hey! Michael!' I quietly yelled, in a hurried tone. It was the dead of night, the only time we had ever spoken at. Instead of responding, he just rolled over, and and continued to pretend to be asleep. By then I was frustrated.

'Get UP' I said angrily. What was his beef? 'What is the deal?' 

He stood up by that point, as angry as I was. He squinted through the darkness.

'Welcome to the twenty-first century pal; where people don't like to WOKEN AT TWO IN THE MORNING!'

'Would you just open up for once? I wasn't born yesterday, last year, or even in the last century. I know when people are lying!' 

'You want my beef?' He walked over to me, slowly, dangerously.

'I'VE GOT A PHONY MURDER CHARGE ON MY HEAD, MY FATHER'S ON TRIAL FOR ALLEGED ACCESSORY, AND I'M STUCK IN THIS BIASED, RACIST WORLD, WHO LOCKS ME UP IN THE COOLER, FOR WALKING DOWN THE STREET!'

I was stung. 'WELL AT LEAST THEY DIDN'T KILL YOU!' I fired back. 

'HOW'D YOU THEY'RE NOT GOING TO?' He yelled again. 

'I DON'T'. I don't. By this time, we were both red in the face, well, I was technically opaque in the face, but that just sounds weird. We were both fired up, both on the defensive. 

Well, there's my plan out the window. If Sami is on trial, then there is absolutely no way I'll be able to talk to him. Oh well, I guess thats that plan scuppered. 

But, wait a minute, if it is the twenty-first century, and I died in 1745, then how is Sami still alive? It seems that Michael read my mind.

'My father is Sam Chong the third, by the way'. Oh. Well, it would have been nice if he specified that. It would have saved me the sore tonsils, and I could have actually slept through the night. 

I sincerely hope that the security guards did not hear any of that ruckus, or Michael's head would be already put on the line. I can tell the other inmates heard us; they only just stopped hollering at us to shut up. 

Oh well. Tomorrow is a new day I guess. We'll see, maybe one day me and Michael will be on speaking terms again one day, he did mention that he is here for life. Who knows, maybe he does not have the memory of an elephant, like everybody else.