Uncle Rick

 

A Note from the Writer

I wrote “Uncle Rick” as an exploration of family, shame, illness, addiction, and unconditional love. I wanted to write a character who is struggling to recognize the person he has become while still longing to know that his family is proud of him.

The story centers on Rick’s 42nd birthday, when a family celebration brings old memories, insecurities, and difficult questions to the surface. At the heart of the story is something many of us have experienced in some form: the fear that we have disappointed the people we love.

As I continue developing my fiction writing, I’m learning that some of the most powerful moments in a story can happen in quiet conversations. “Uncle Rick” gave me the opportunity to explore character, memory, family dynamics, and the complicated ways love can exist alongside disappointment.

This is one of the pieces I’m adding to my growing writing portfolio—and another step in building the writer I want to become.

I hope you enjoy reading it.

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I was wearing a brown track suite, and I smelled of cigarettes and cologne. I was 6’2 and wore a size 12 in sneakers. My hair was black and thinning. My body was fragile and frail. I used a cane to support my body as I walked. I was feeling a little weak however I didn’t want to show my family the pain I hid behind my brown eyes. They had invited me over to celebrate my birthday. I was turning 42 years old. Out of my 42 years of living, I would have never envisioned myself like this. However, if you really think about it, who really knows what the future holds? I mean I thought I was going to go to college and become just as successful as my siblings. My oldest brother, Roger, He went to the Navy and retired. My oldest-younger sister, Tiffany, graduated with a masters in computer science. Lastly, my youngest sister, Trenise, became an engineer. We were hard to bring together. With Tiffany and Roger starting a family of their own and Trenise traveling all over the world, it was hard to find time to see one another. However, today felt like an anomaly. My mother, Odessa had picked up from my hotel room. Odessa was one of those over baring mothers. She was a 5’3 light skin lady with a big heart. She cared for those even when it was tough. Even though she had a great heart for others, she would not hold back her tongue for anyone. That’s what I loved about her. She gave tough love with some cushion around it. I could hear her emerald green pick-up truck outside my room. I raised out of my chair to open the door. My body trembled as I grabbed my cane. Before I could twist the knob, my mother knocked on the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Rick are you ready?” she called.

“Yeah.” I said, “Just give me a minute.”

“Ok, I have to pee. May I come in and use the restroom.” She asked.

Honestly, I didn’t know if she had to pee or if she just wanted to snoop around to see if I was taking care of my living space. However, I couldn’t just leave her outside. I opened the door. She had on her fitted levi jeans, a grey sweatshirt, a Monroe High school baseball cap and her white Nikes. The aroma of estee lauder and chocolate cake mix followed her. As she entered the room, she stopped right by the entrance.

“Rick you have to start spraying after you smoke in here. It’s starting to smell really bad. And what happened to the clothes I laid out for you?” she said in a concerned tone.

“Hey momma. I thought this would be more comfortable for me. I am not feeling to well today.”

“Alright…well…did you want to pack some clothes and spend the night or did you want to come back here today?” she asked.

“I’m going to come back here.” I said quickly.

My mother would do anything to keep me away from what she thinks is trouble. Even though I knew right from wrong, I still did what I wanted to regardless if I hadn’t thought about the consequences. Also, I couldn’t smoke how I wanted or do what I wanted, so it was best that I return to my room.

“I thought you had to go to the restroom ma?” I said as a reminder.

She quickly walked toward the bathroom.

“Rick!” she screamed. “what in the hell is this?!”

I couldn’t remember what was in the bathroom. As I approached the bathroom door thoughts began to race through my head. What did she see? Did I leave a needle or pipe in their? What if she saw that skirt or makeup? I opened the door slightly to peek. My mother was standing beside the sink and pointing down in the drain. I had made the sink my ash tray. It was full of buds and cigarette cartons.

“Rick, why you do this? You have a trash can by the toilet. Why mess up the sink like this?” she said sternly.

Through panic. I couldn’t understand why I did what I had done but I had to say something.

“I don’t know mama.” I said.

She shook her head in disappointment. Seeing her like that made me feel worse. I didn’t want to have that effect on my mother. I always wanted my parents to be proud of me. Even as a child, I knew I was different so I had to work a little harder to make them proud.

My mother started to clean up the mess. She grabbed some gloves from her pocket and a clean towel from my closet. As she was cleaning the sink, she tried to rinse out all the ashes. The sink began to overflow. I was sure that the pipes were clogged with cigarette buds.

“Well I’ll be damned…if it ain’t one thing it’s another.” She blurted.

I felt ashamed and began to look down at my feet. I began to zone out. I didn’t know what I was feeling. It was a mixer of disappointment and insecurity. I sat down on my bed and began to put on my shoes. My mother grabbed my coat and walked toward the door.

“I am going to speak to maintenance. You can go ahead and sit in the car and wait for me.” She said softly.

As she walked out the door, I grabbed my cane and followed her. I moved slowly toward the truck, carefully maneuvering my body into the passenger seat. My mother climbed in a moment later. Her face was blank. I couldn’t tell whether she was angry disappointed, or simply tired of worrying about me. Sometimes I wondered if she was trying not to make me feel worse. Maybe she carried her own guilt about how I had turned out. She had always wanted the best for me.

The house my parents raised me and my siblings in was only 5 minutes away from the hotel. She parked the truck underneath the carport. When I opened the truck door, I could smell the red velvet cake baking in the oven. A mix of chocolate and collard greens filled the air. The door was open and the screen door windows were cracked. My father loved to feel the natural breeze while he watched his shows in his recliner. Opening the screen door, my father’s feet were propped up.

“Hey!” I said.

“Hey Rick, Happy Birthday.” He said with a southern drawl.

My Mother followed in right behind me. I saw my sisters, brother, nieces and nephews all sitting in the living room. I could feel an overwhelming sensation in my body. The feeling of Regret and remorse bounced around my body. I began to feel anxious but I didn’t allow it to take over. I greeted my siblings. Trenise, Roger and Tiffany gave me a hug. My nieces and nephews followed. However instead of a full body hug, they grabbed and hugged my legs tightly. I made my way over to the couch and sat Beside Tiffany. My mother continued to cook. My father began to nod off after a while and my niece was getting her hair done by Tiffany. My nephews were play fighting with action figures. Trenise ran to the back to talk on the phone and Roger was just chilling in the dining room. Memories began to flood my mind. I didn’t want everyone around to see the tears in my eyes. I got up as quickly as I could and Headed to the restroom. I closed the door to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. Memories of me and my siblings as children began to play in my head. In one particular memory, I could see myself playing with my sister Trenise. My father and mother were performing lawn maintenance. Me and Trenise were mimicking mom and dad. I had decided to get the weed whacker and act as If I was edging the yard. As I was jogging along the side walk of the yard, I stepped over Trenise to get to the other side.

“AHHHH!” Screamed Trenise.

I remember looking back at her on the ground. Her hand had been split open. My mother ran franticly toward her. I followed behind. Blood was gushing everywhere. I didn’t mean to do that to her. I ran in the house toward my room. I locked the door and placed my head in between my knees. I just wanted to get away from it all. That same feeling I had as a child was the same overwhelming feeling I was presently feeling. I started to crave a cigarette but I didn’t have any. Luckily, mom would buy packs for me. I got up off the toilet. I began to wash my hands and look myself in the mirror. To shake my anxiety, I began to tell myself over and over, “This too shall pass. This too shall pass.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. Leaving the bathroom and entering the kitchen, the lights had turned off. I couldn’t hear a Tv or sound. I started to wonder if they had left me. I walked over to turn the kitchen lights on. As I turned the lights on, Bodies began to rise from behind the counter.

“Happy Birthday!” My family screamed.

I was in shock. I almost tumbled down from the jump scare. They began to sing happy birthday to me. The feelings I had before had vanished without a trace. I had never felt what I was feeling before. I didn’t even need a cigarette anymore. The feeling of anxiety had been replaced with peace. My body and mind had settled. My family had reassured me that I was still loved no matter how I felt, no matter what I thought I had done and no matter what I had been through.

My nephew held the cake as my grandmother and sisters sang the Stevie wonder Happy Birthday Song. As the song reached the end. I began to think of a wish. The candles were burning so I had to make sure this was a good wish. My niece in her little voice said, “Make a wish Uncle Rick!” I couldn’t help but tear up. I closed my eyes took another deep breathe. I held it and released. My father, brother and siblings began to cheer and clap.

“Time to eat! And don’t ask me for nothing else.” My mother said jokingly.

My mother had placed all the food on the dining room table for everyone to serve themselves. My mother had made yams, collards, peach cobbler, potato salad and rice. My father had grilled chicken legs and ribs. Plastic plates, cups and silverware were stationed. As the birthday boy, it was tradition to let the person who we were celebrating to make the first plate. As I made my plate, I began to fill a little nauseated. My body started to get weak. I was used to this. This was not new to my body. The doctor said that I would have some negative symptoms toward the medicine. The doctor had gave me Atazanavir. I didn’t like taking the medicine. I didn’t like swallowing pills that didn’t give me a high. However, I had to make sure I was healthy. Also HIV medicine was new to the medical scene, so I didn’t feel comfortable digesting medicine that hadn’t even been proven to support life. I cannot lie. Some days I had skipped taking it on purpose.

My sister, Trenise had seen that I was staggering. I had become lite headed. Trenise immediately ran over to help me. She grabbed my plate and my arm. I slowly walked back into the den with her arm and arm. She placed my plate on the coffee table and sat with me in the couch. She looked me in my eyes and said, “I am here for you.” I couldn’t help but shed tears. We sat there in silence. We didn’t need anything but the comfort of silence.

On the right side of the couch, my father had removed his dentures and scarfed down his food. On my right, My mother had crossed her legs on the couch and placed her had in her shirt groping her breast. This was her way of putting herself to sleep. She began to nod off. My siblings had to get back home. They began to pack up. Tiffany reached out and gave me a hug along with her children. Trenise grabbed her purse and hugged me after. Lastly, Roger was standing by the living room. He walked up and dapped me up. I walked outside with Roger to watch them all get in their cars safely. I was going to miss them. They were all I knew.

Roger was the last car to drive away. My heart sank. I walked back into the house. My mother was drooling and my father was snoring. They were hard asleep. My mother was supposed to take me back but I wanted her to get some rest. I’m sure she had been cooking and cleaning all day. It was 9:18 pm. I wanted to get back home and change for the night. My girlfriends were going to be looking for me. However, It was my birthday and they knew I was going to be with my family. I grabbed the remote off of my father chair and turned the TV on the news. As the reporter talked, the more and more I became sleepy. I nodded off.

“Rick…. Rick…wake up… You still want to go home?” My mother said softly as she shook my body.

“Moma I’m full, I don’t want any more food.” I said waking out of my sleep.

I had looked at the clock. It was 11:00pm on the dot.

“Hey, you still want me to drop you off at home?” she stated.

I wiped my eyes and face.

“Yes, ma’am. Please.” I said kindly.

“Ok, I’m about to take this slip off and throw on some pants and shirt. Go ahead and go to the car.”

I sat for a while to gather some strength. I pushed myself to get up. As I became steady on my feet, I began to make my journey to the truck. My mother was not too far behind me. She started the truck. She had pre-fixed me a to-go plate and placed it in the back. I didn’t want to leave her. But I knew that I wasn’t the same anymore. Everything had changed. I was an uncle now. My parents had become older. My siblings no longer stayed at our family house.

As I was realizing how life had changed, I wanted to ask my mother something that I had always wanted to ask her.

“Hey mom, I have a question to ask.” I said with fear trailing behind my words.

“Yes, what’s going on?” She said inquisitively.

I was so afraid to ask this question as I didn’t know what her answer might be. But it just felt like a good time to ask.

“Are you disappointed in me as a son?” I said discreetly.

There was a sudden relief in my body. It’s like my senses became clearer. The truck engine became louder and the smell of the tires burning became heavier.

“Am I disappointed in you?” she reiterated.

You could tell she was shocked. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had tighten. She slowed down the truck. We were literally down the street from my hotel room. She pulled the truck over into an empty parking lot. As she turned her head you could see the tears formed in her eyes.

“Rick, I am very disappointed in you.” She said

I couldn’t believe it. I wanted her to say it again. I immediately shut down. My head fell toward my lap. She continued and said, “I am very disappointed that you would think I wasn’t proud of you.” My head slightly came up. She used her hand and tilted my head up more so that we could look each other in the eyes.

“No matter where you are, what you do, what you eat, what you drink, what you inject, what you smoke, where you sleep, if you dress up or dress down… I will always be proud of you. You are not the first person to go through this and you won’t be the last. I am not ashamed of you. I am grateful to be your mother. I am actually more proud of you than your other siblings. Do you know why?” she asked.

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“Because you chose your own route. You went against the grain. You challenged me to love harder. You challenged me to be tougher. You have me a reason to keep going. For that, I cannot repay you. I will always love you Rick.” She said in a shaky tone.

In that moment silence had once again filled the truck as comfort. My mother wiped her face. She turned the radio on. Mary Mary song, Yesterday blared through the speaker. She drove me up the street to my room. As my mother sang, she grabbed the food from the back seat and hopped out to help out the passenger.

When I made it inside the room. I gave her a big hug. The green truck pulled off. My stomach began to hurt so I went to the restroom. I opened the bathroom door and it was spotless. There was no trash laying around nor dirty towels. In my trash can there was a bag wrapped up. I unfolded the bag and there were my medicine I had tried to flush in the toilet and a couple of used needles. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother cleaned this up or housekeeping. After I used the restroom, I walked toward the sink to wash my hands. I looked up at the mirror. As I looked in my eyes, I didn’t see the boy I used to see. I saw Ricardo. The man I had become. At that moment, I realized that no matter what I go through I will always have love and support no matter the circumstance.