Antebellum (53 page)

“Moses, come on, man...” Ray stood up to address me, but before he could get fully to his feet, Xavier stepped forward and made himself known. He didn't say a word, but Ray, clearly thrown off by this new force, sat back down.

“It's like that now, Moses?” he said as he sat gingerly back in his seat.

I looked at Ray, and then back at Xavier. I hadn't turned to anyone else, but I knew they were all watching me, anxious to see what I was going to do.

As I took account of myself, I realized I was not inclined at all to say anything to Xavier. I knew that Ray wasn't going to do
anything after he stood up but say his piece and sit back down, but the man had just quit his job to protect me. Who was I to stand in his way?

“Look,” I said, and stood up in the place where Ray would have been. “I told y'all, some things is gonna have ta change. Y'all my homies, man. We been through a lot together...and I understand if you can't get with the new changes, but if you gonna stay with me, then you gotta.”

I looked around at their serious faces.

“I'm just being real, y'all. Take some time to think 'bout it. If it wasn't no money involved, would you still put up with it? 'Cause I'm tellin' you, I can't do things how I used to, dogg. If it costs me some money, then so be it. And it probably will.”

“Hold up,” Brian looked around the room, confused, and then back at me. “You sayin' dat with all dis money you could be makin' right now, you 'bout to do somethin' that could make you go broke?”

“I'm sayin' that, in all seriousness, don't nobody in this room know where we gon' be at in six months. You stick with me, then yeah, you could end up goin' broke. That's not the plan, but it's a possibility. In order for this to keep goin', you gotta be here for more than the money.”

“More than the money?” Henry looked like a priest who'd heard a curse word. “The hell is wrong wid you, man? What's more important in this life than money?”

“This...”

I turned my back to them and lifted up my shirt, showing them my scarred flesh.

“Damn!”

“Yo, what the hell!”

“Who did that to you, man?”

“It doesn't matter,” I replied, and turned around. “Y'all go home. Come through tomorrow mornin' and let me know what's good. Real talk, I'd much rather see y'all roll out now and we stay friends than later on and we ain't even talkin' to each other.”

“Yo, you kickin us out, homie?” The hurt in Ray's voice almost made me feel bad.

“Naw. You can stay if you want, but I gotta press conference.” I stopped for a moment, and then looked at SaTia. “Right?”

“It's already taken care of.”

“Cool.” I turned around. “After that, I gotta get some rest, so we can hook up later.”

“I can't believe this, yo!” Brian said as he stood up. “You know what we s'posed to be doin' tonight? It's like, ten clubs in the city all havin' ‘Welcome Home Da Nigga' parties! We s'posed to be hittin' all of 'em! We s'posed to be gettin' twisted and layin' pipe in some shorties and hittin' the studio. Dis nigga—yeah, I said it—dis nigga come outta coma after six months, and all he wanna do is sleep and not say nigga no more!”

I shook my head and smirked. “Naw, that's not all I wanna do.”

“Really? So what...you tryin' to go out tonight?”

“Naw, I'm good. I'm chillin. Y'all hit the parties for me. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Whatever, man.”

Brian walked out the door, with Ray and Henry on his heels. I let the weight of disappointment fall over me as they walked out the gate and past the police officers on duty.

“Sir,” Xavier started, but I cut him off.

“Moses. It's Moses.”

“Sorry, sir. Moses?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't trust them.”

I didn't want to hear his truth so I walked away, then stopped and turned back. “Well, I trust
you
, and I just met you, so give them a chance. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

It wasn't worth correcting him again. I dropped down to the couch and tried to convince myself that I hadn't lost my three best friends.

Two hours later, I stood a few feet from the front door, listening to the hustle and bustle on the other side. SaTia had instructed the police to only allow the press past the front gate, and now my front lawn was standing-room-only. Peeping through the window, the scene reminded me of my floor at the hospital overrun with reporters. They were everywhere, from cameramen to news reporters to journalists, all falling over one another trying to get as close as they could to the podium that had been set up on the front porch.

Xavier stood beside me, his face stern and calculating. I'd counted at least six different firearms on his person as he was loading up, but now you couldn't tell that he was armed at all. Even though the sun was down, he still wore a dark pair of sunglasses, hiding his suspicions from the rest of the world.

“SaTia, is that a JumboTron outside?”

She was finishing a phone conversation, and moved the phone away from her mouth. “I never cleared a JumboTron, so no, it shouldn't be. This isn't a concert, it's a press conference. It's probably just some new piece of satellite news equipment.”

“I don't know, SaTia. It looks like a JumboTron.”

I was in a dark pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt. No shades, no
grills, no expensive jewelry that could have afforded one of the reporters an early retirement if I'd given it to them.

SaTia walked up beside me. She paused, then pivoted on her heels and wound up standing directly in front of me. Instinctively, I kissed her.

“Still not going to tell me what you're going to say for the press conference, huh?” she said breathlessly after we parted.

“Nope. Why ruin the surprise?”

“Well, how do you know I'll be here when you finish?”

“'Cause you were here when I started.”

The look of confusion on her face quickly changed into a smirk.

“You must've been chained up with some slick-talkin' slaves,” she said, shaking her head.

I threw my head back and laughed like a fat man before a quick knock at the door cut my bellows short.

“One of the policemen,” SaTia said. “I told him to knock when they sealed off the front yard.” She looked into my eyes, and I could tell she was proud of me, though she didn't know what I was about to do.

“It's time,” she said, and stepped to the side.

“You're not going out there with me?”

“No. I look a mess.”

“That never mattered before.”

“I wasn't marrying you before.”

I thought for a half-second, and then nodded my head.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“You've got Xavier now, and he'll protect you more than I ever could. I don't want the world to see me as your manager anymore.”

“You want me to fire you?”

“No, dummy...nobody else could handle you right anyway. It's just...you know how you want the world to know you're not the
same person? Well, I want them to know I'm not the same person either.”

I looked in her eyes and kicked myself for the years of foolishness. “I feel you. It's done.”

She smiled, and I walk past her with Xavier at my side.

“Forgive me if I don't hear your statement, sir.”

My hand stopped short of the doorknob as I looked at Xavier.

“It's Moses. You plan on shooting anyone?”

“If I have to, sir...Moses.”

“Better them than me, I guess.”

“Would you mind filling me in if I don't hear it, sir?”

“It's Moses. Hear what? The statement?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you...” I stopped short, denying my curiosity. “Yeah, I'll definitely fill you in.” I grabbed the doorknob and turned it, but only opened it slightly before I turned back to Xavier and let my curiosity win out. “Why do you care, Xavier?”

The question stopped the soldier cold. He stood still for a moment, and then removed his shades and looked me in the eye. “I've only heard your story, sir. You haven't heard mine.”

I shrugged my shoulders and raised my eyebrows, conceding his point. “Guess we need to talk then.”

“Yes, sir”

“Xavier...”

“Yes, sir?”

“It's Moses.”

I threw the door open before he could respond. The flashing lights that met us would have given a little child a seizure. Xavier immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me from the direct onslaught of the lights, and leading me to the podium that had been set up.

There was a three-second delay from when I walked out, and when the tsunami of noise hit us, but I had expected it. In almost all of my previous pictures, videos, and interviews, I'd been covered from head to toe in accessories. This was probably the first time any of the reporters had ever seen my eyes. It took them the three seconds to realize it was really me. After the realization hit, everything turned to chaos.

The press started screaming out questions. Their noise alone would have been enough to make me want to cover my ears, but a sea of fans, who had taken a cue from the television cameras, gathered beyond the perimeter drawn by the police. Even though they could barely see me, they cheered as if I was walking through their crowd.

Xavier stood shoulder to shoulder with me as I lowered the microphone to my mouth.

“Thank y'all...”

I hadn't anticipated two things: the loudness of the microphone or the revelation that what I'd seen outside was in fact a Jumbo-Tron, and that it was set up just outside my front yard. SaTia must have had the same thought, because as soon as I saw it, she was running through the front door, pulling me away from the podium.

“I don't know who cleared that damn JumboTron, but somebody is catching hell for it! This was never supposed to be this big, Moses. You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

She was screaming, but I'd just barely heard her over the noise.

“It's okay. Go on back inside. I'll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it's all good. Go on back.”

As she ducked and made her way back inside, I stood up at the podium. Feeling as if I was about to give an announcement in a
football stadium during the Super Bowl. It literally felt as though the ground was shaking.

“Thank y'all. Please, calm down. Calm down.”

I lifted both of my arms and waved my hands, signaling for the crowd to be quiet. The noise dropped slowly, taking several minutes before I was able to speak.

“Thank you. Thank you everybody for coming out. Thank you for all your love and your prayers over the last six months.”

“WE LOVE YOU, NIGGA!”

Random women yelled from the crowd positioned behind the press, igniting another wave of cheers and screams. I just decided to wait this one out.

Xavier had unholstered one of his pistols and was holding it behind his back and out of view. I could see his eyes darting back and forth over the crowd behind his sunglasses.

Another several minutes passed before they got the hint that I wasn't speaking again until there was a moderate amount of order. Finally, they began to settle down.

“I called this conference 'cause I wanted to clear some things up. There's been a lot of rumors goin' around, and I know people wonderin' what's been goin' on with me, 'specially since I came out of the coma. First, let me promise y'all that I'm not crazy. Matter-of-fact, I'm feelin' better than I've ever felt. Bein' in that coma changed my life.”

I looked around at all the eyes focused on me, and I knew it was time. There were sporadic cheers here and there, but it was quiet enough for me to think straight. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat as I continued.

“Da Nigga is dead. He died while I was in the coma. Everything he stood for, everything he did, everything he was, is dead. My name is Moses Jenkins. It is no longer Da Nigga, and as such, I
don't 'spect to be called that anymore. All y'all out there wid Da Nigga T-shirts and everything on, y'all reppin' a dead man. It ain't me no more. I ain't nobody's nigga.”

I saw jaws drop.

“From now on, I will take being called Da Nigga as a personal offense. To all my fans, if you really are my fans, take them damn shirts off! Shouldn't nobody in the hood be walkin' 'round wid no shirt with ‘I am Da Nigga' on it! I ain't makin' no more music under the name Da Nigga, and if I can find a way to, I'll have all my old music destroyed. You ain't heard this from my record company, 'cause they don't know yet. I ain't discussed it with 'em, nor do I plan to. From now on, I ain't nobody's nigga and I ain't nobody's slave!”

The initial shock of my words had worn off, and the press members were working feverishly, making sure they got every word of what would undoubtedly be the story of the century. Cameramen fell over each other trying to shoot me from different angles, and the crowd behind the press had started a low murmur of whispers amongst themselves. I paused up at the podium, soaking in the reactions, and suddenly felt a sense of calm. I relaxed with both my hands on the podium, and laughed quietly into the microphone. This night would change my life forever. I just wanted to make sure I remembered it clearly.