Facing Eviction

*Profane/Suggestive language*

Dear God,

It is I, yes, your humble servant yet again. I know it’s the eighth time today, so? What else do you expect from me? And given the circumstances how could I not call on you, did you see that?! This past week has been trifling and do mean absolutely trifling, Lucifer himself would throw in the towel—only you can undo and fix this, Jesus! Please. Stepping in fresh dog shit was just unfortunate icing on the cake. And it feels as if you’re testing me Lord, what do you need me to do? Do you hate me? My sense of humor is awful but yours has impeccable timing—my lady is pregnant and has one foot in, though the other is tipping towards somewhere else; old man Henderson is still talking about firing me and my dad is sick. Fadda Gawd, there is shit at the bottom of my favorite slides and my personal life is real hectic, what would you like for me to do? Other than this complaint... please let the sun shine its bright light which reflects your divine smile this coming Saturday, I beg of you!

Monday: Sunny. Good day for a baseball game, if you’re in Alaska. How does sunshine feel like rays from any flashlight yet the wind-chill cancels any sign of warmth, no matter if you’re indoors, snuggled close to the fireplace or outdoors by any fire pit or possibly in pursuit of a loving embrace from a distant spouse?

“Oscar, thought I told you to get rid of these raggedy boxes creating an eye sore in the middle of my living room, why are they still here?”

As sexist as it may seem, women and their blind rage is nothing to play with especially if she’s with child. You might as well tuck your tail between your legs and say ‘yes dear’ and keep it pushing. Mama bear plays no games. The castle is to be spotless… only mess allowed is hers which the designated area is the bathroom counter. “Well my darling, because of our love drunken night of passion they’re still living with us—if you wish them gone, considered it done but—we are welcoming a third Turner soon and you are often prone to rash decisions. So yeah.”

“I am not going to kick you out, again, Oscar. I overreacted. I am sorry. I shouldn't have hit you either.”

“Well, admittance is the first step to recovery, Tessa.”

“Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass, guy.”

Tuesday: Wind chill is nonexistent but it’s abnormally warm; which peaks any tornadoes interests, just looking outside and by definition the sky is ominous but welcoming. It’s as if the sun and moon are playing footsie behind the clouds and we’re all supposed to pretend that we are unaware of it.

“Yo Big O, what’s goin’ on, big daddy cool?”

The smallest man in the department honestly can have the most to say in which we may all suggest it to be a napoleon complex rather than a part of their personality which is genuinely being talkative instead of demanding. Short people are cool. It’s the tall ones we have to watch for, I think they may receive a little too much oxygen and this high creates a lapse in judgement.

“You obviously want something, what is it?”

“Why I gotta want something other than to talk to my favorite co-worker, huh?”

“What, Willie? I don’t have time for your shit and definitely ain’t trying to hear or see Henderson’s ugly mug walk through this section. Spit it out, bro,”

“Matter of fact, how's your family Will—”

Willie's face suggest importance but his statement? His question? His overall demeanor? Some people never change regardless of age.

“Never mind them, they still living but let’s go see a man about a pink horse.”

“Are you sick? You do know that we’re banned from there because of you, right? How you wanna plan your birthday party but demand that you dance on stage? Are you sick in the head?”

“Don’t disrespect me, O. History is history. We don’t speak on the past.”

“Yeah, whatever. What’s the catch, man?”

“Wow. You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“First of all Willie, you owe me 200 dollars—I’ve been waiting on it for two years—hell nah, I don’t trust you. Tell me everything. Now.”

“Alright O, here it is: if we go, there’s no charge, all we have do is clean up after they close…”

Complete and deafening silence takes over the conversation. You could hear a church mouse piss on cotton. Even worse? You could hear Casper lacing up his boots to go to war and he doesn't have feet!

“So, let me get this right, I have to clean up a dingy strip joint—after I pay for God’s tried and true children to gyrate halfway on beat—next you’ll tell me that I’ll have to dress and drag and do the hula like any re-enactment of The Lion King?”

“Lion King, No. But drag—”

“Willie, I swear ‘fo God, if you don’t get away from me, I’ll slap the shit outta you.”

By now Willie is backpedaling his con though making any attempt to justify his behavior would be admissible to someone you’d call a friend, let alone the person who received several fines in another county for loud and disorderly conduct which is by association instead of their own doing.

“O, I know you’re still upset about last time, my bad, man. Sorry but peep, this time will be different. I’m serious! All we gotta do is clean up. I really wanna go, plus I just came into s—”

“Willie, are you willing to risk your life to see some ass? If not, get out of my face, I already told you before and now I’m pissed. I ain’t sanitizing no stripper pole, cleaning stove grease, or mopping floors when I can just ask my wife to shake her ass, for free!”

Why aren’t you two working? Boxes won’t fill themselves.

“You and them dusty asses can kiss my ass, Henderson. I quit!”

“Come on, O, don’t be like that!!”

Wednesday: Sunshine and it seems lovely outside but it never truly is when turmoil bubbles just beneath the surface of man’s skin.

“Hey Oscar, we need to talk.”

“We always do. I don’t have any funds right now, little brother. I quit my funky ass job yesterday and I’m looking for a new one as we speak. Is everything okay?”

“Sorry but it’s about dad?”

The call grows silent. Both boys were raised with their parents but, their dad had isolated himself due to his addictive personality traits; though loving and caring—his human flaw remained to get the best of him.

“—okay, I’m listening..”

“As you know, he’s been staying with us though he still has supervised care throughout the day whilst kids are at school and I’m at work, I no longer work from home.. and he—”

“Get to the point Easy, please…”

“Dadd.. da.. Daddy fell today and—”

“And what, is my father okay?!”

The call has several clicks before Easy regains his strength to muster up the words which only further push Oscar into whole in which he cannot climb out of. For the light he clings to may not be the sun but merely, head on collision.

“Ossie, Daddy died this morning—.”

Thursday: Rainy. Flood warning. Dear God, you took my father and called him home, he was still young. But I understand. I hold no malice towards you, but why must people continuously tempt the righteous? I am not a dark person, am I? You saw it… them people just robbed me, for all I had and I ain’t have shit! God, why?! Can this week get any worse!

Friday: Sunshine. Slight chance of rain.

“Tessa Belle, let’s hit it, mama! Doctor’s appointment is at 3pm and its 1:30, you know traffic is no joke and we’re headed uptown not downtown—if we’re going to make it, we need to leave n—”

There’s a handwritten note on the granite counter-top in the kitchen addressed to Oscar.

‘To my dearest love Oscar,

I am sorry that you are finding out this way but it has to be done. I cannot continue to suffer at the expense of risking losing another child. I know you’re obsessed with your passion and creating a life for me and the children but what about me, darling? What about us and the life that you had promised us? You said that things wouldn’t change?

Maybe certain things aren’t going to happen right now or in this lifetime, had you even thought of that? The unnecessary stress is not good for either of us and definitely isn’t good for the baby!

So until everything is settled or the baby arrives—I’ll be at mother’s, in Peoria.

Love, Belle’

After reading the letter, Oscar is left in both: doubt and sadness.

“Son of a bitch, she left me…?”

“Why?”

“How’d she get down the stairs?”

Saturday: Sunny all day! Paradise but all season skies can deceive real eyes without speaking any lies.

“Let me turn on the news real fast before I dip out.”

‘Here’s Patricia Ackerman with the weather, Patricia’

‘Thanks, Carroll! Good news, folks! Looks like our first week in January festival is still up and running. So if you and the family have the vans packed, headed to Millsville from everyone here at Channel 12, we’ll see you there!’

“Cool, my girl Patty always helping me with the weather report, even though she probably bluffing.”

“Where’s this bus? I spent 300$ for hot air balloon ride and membership, this jawn better hurry up! I don’t care if I gotta walk to Mills, th—”

‘Oscar Turner?’

“Yes, why?”

‘You’ve been served, good day!’

“Come on son, is my life scripted, does God hate me?!?”

Shortly after being served a subpoena, rolling thunder accompanies relentless rain which doesn’t let up for a week.

“I’m down to my last dollar… God, this might not be the best prayer but if it be Your Will, you know? Help a brother out!”

I guess some prayers are answered, the closer you journey to God you never know how much he actually listens to you. That following Wednesday, in midst of the ongoing rain storms, Oscar hit the lotto totaling a whopping $1.7bil., becoming the second highest winner!

Let’s just hope and pray that Uncle Sam doesn’t take too much of Big O’s money!