Matón

January 13, 2010

"You sure about this man?" Spooky asked as we walked through the thick snow.

"Yea, I just want to meet the nigga."

"That's cool, but I'm saying, why he can't come meet you? Why you gotta kiss his ass?"

"I ain't kissing his ass. The nigga locked down, so that's why he can't see me."

"That nigga been missing fifteen years, dawg! He ain't shit, just like my pops."

I ignored Spooky and continued stomping through the snow. I knew it had to be a reason my dad wasn't around, more than what my mom had been telling me, or what she lacked to tell me.

       It was a Wednesday morning and we were skipping school. My mom would have beat my ass, if she found out I skipped school to visit my dad on lock down. Even though I had never met my pops, I always felt like he wanted to meet me, but something was holding him back. I got a few connections to find out where he was and it led me to the federal prison.

     

       We must have waited a few hours before being processed to enter. When we walked into the visiting room, I noticed a tall slender Mexican man with curly black hair, sitting at the table, waiting on his visitor.

"Uh, you José Morales?"

"Who you, ese?"

"You know my moms right? Miranda Morrison?" I spoke, as Spooky and I took our seats.

"Yea, I know her. You her kid?"

"Yea.. I hear uh, you my dad..."

"Usted no es mi hijo."

"Huh? What you saying? I don't speak all'at shit." I half laughed.

"You ain't my son, patna."

"What?" I knew he was my dad, because of the blood test, which was why I was confused by his response.

"I ain't claiming no half breed. Ain't  nothin' I can do for you."

Spooky rose from the table with aggression. "Yo, fuck you homes! Aye, fuck this nigga, b! Let's get up outta here."

Spooky was trying to prevent what had already happened. My facial expression was dry, with disappointment as a lump formed in my throat. My own pops didn't claim, or give a fuck about my life. I rose from the table, putting on an unconcerned demeanor, even though it hurt like hell. I skipped school,  caught buses, and trailed through blocks of snow to see a nigga who only disowned me.

"Ain't nobody giving a fuck bout you nigga, I just came to see what was up."

"Yea, now you know, so bounce."

  I cut my eyes in his direction, before exiting the room and leaving him at the table. This visit was short and my mind was fucked up behind it.

     Spook and I walked a few blocks in silence, before he decided to bring the situation up.

"You aight, bruh?"

"Yea, fuck that nigga. It ain't like the nigga ever did shit for me, right?" I laughed the disappointment away.

"Man, that nigga wack. I'd be glad he ain't claim me, if I was you."

I stared at Spooky blankly, taking heed to the somewhat helpful words as we stomped through the snow. "I mean," My voice was breaking down as I tried to clear my throat and speak. "He ain't have to treat me like some shit, bruh." I ran my left hand across my face, wiping the tears away from my eyes,  before they could fall.