“Are you sure you don’t want to meet’em?” I asked Deuce.
“Hell, naw! What the fuck we gonnah talk about Unc? You and Daddy telling me they claim that they are white and shit, so, I ain’t got no time tah be talkin tah some people, supposedly my two sisters and one brother, that are confused about who they are! And denyin who I know I am, which if yah didn’t notice, is Black! Puh-leeze! I’d rather eat brussel sprouts,” she said offhandedly.
“Brussel sprouts? The hell that come from Deuce?” I asked her laughing a little.
“Oh, of course you didn’t know, I hate me some brussel sprouts. Ugh! Makes me gag just to think of’em. Fo sho!” She started laughing too, gesticulating half putting her right index finger toward her open mouth acting as if she was going to create emesis. We both started cracking up.
We were sitting in a restaurant, located on the north side of Indianapolis, waiting for our food to arrive. A Greek restaurant which I had taken her to one other time and she fell in love with the food, and the male server who was giving her the peeks whenever he had the chance, like Deuce and I hadn’t noticed. He was our same server today and Deuce was checking him out with her little peeks too.
“I ain’t really intah white guys Unc, but that one there is fine,” she said.
“I can understand. He’s Greek, and let me tell yah a little something lady, they just light skinned niggahs but don’t want to admit to it. Cause the Moors were puttin their stamp on all of those lil islands like that in that neck of the woods. Yah feel may?” I said conspiratorially to her.
“I know that’s right. You so funny Unc. You make me laugh and feel good when I’m around you. Why don’t you have a woman Unc?” She said while looking at me with concern and confusion all at the same time.
“Damn. Now that will take a minute or two to answer, my Dear Niece,” I said trying to throw her off by making it seem as though it will take a long time answering her question, hoping maybe she would decide it wasn‘t worth it. It didn’t work.
“Time I got Unc. Answers from you I don’t,” she said.
“My niggah,” I said to her smiling.
“You already know. Now speak on it Unc! Let’s hear it,” she said while leaning forward, putting her elbows on the table, looking me dead in my eye, unwavering. I don’t know how it happened but she definitely had gotten this from her Father, my deceased Brother, Chauncey.
“Okay,” I started out, looking off into space trying to find a point of reference.
“Like in some of my creative writing classes that I have taken Unc, just start talkin and the story will just start falling into place,” she said as she picked up her unsweetened iced tea and took a sip. I took a sip of mine. Put the glass down.
“Here we go Deuce,” and I began to tell her the story of my life because she needed to know from one of her many Uncles, to get to really know her now deceased Father. I knew that. And she had picked me to take her down the rabbit hole of our family…
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