The real reason I ask is because as quiet as it's kept
we all know that a big part of our functioning is concealed...
concealed in the needing of someone or something
doing the required task on our behalf or for our benefit
once we find out who the someone or something is we must trust...
trust that all the tools in their tool kit are sharp
and/or at the very least jimmy-rigged to work
My neighbor who we'll call Black
who actually wasn't my neighbor
but a former resident of my apartment
a former drug spot turned renovated over-priced 1 bedroom
which continued to be targeted by drug-heads
now lived in the stairwell of the hallway on cold or rainy evenings
As uncomfortable as it was to be greeted
by a sleeping body near my door in the early morning or late night
I was grateful that scratching-shaking-sweaty strangers
didn't dare knock on my door when Black was on-site
Our communication, me and Black...always cordial borderline friendly
he was the first man to volunteer to carry my shopping cart with wheels
up 6 flights of stairs when the elevator was out...every 2 days or so
several men were always hanging around the lobby
only a few willing to help a sister out...maybe 1 flight
never all 6 but smiles and endearing names...Negra and Morena was constant
anyway, I stopped asking Black questions regarding his well-being
he informed me that he had a place to live and food and a nice girlfriend
said he was on assignment when he was at 562...that's the building number
he repeatedly said if anybody tried to mess with me
that he was given orders to handle it...
Something about how he said what he said...
always put me at ease...handle it...given orders to handle it
yea he got me...got me trusting and accepting temporary inconveniences
he was a sharp tool appearing as jimmy-rigged
On the day I moved out, Black was there
first man to volunteer to help
he carried my Armoire down those 6 flights of stairs
the elevator was out...and all I'm thinking is...this Angel...got my back!
by Shonnese C.L. Coleman
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