Taboo 2:. Yoshe

New York.” He looked around the spacious four-bedroom house that Karim called home. “Don’t get me wrong, this is a nice layout, but I gotta get outta here, man. Ain’t nothin’ down here for me,” Rasheed exclaimed.

      Karim turned his eggs over and checked on his turkey bacon that was frying in another pan. He poured some Tropicana orange juice in a glass and sipped it. After a few seconds passed, Karim looked at Rasheed.

      “So what am I supposed to do about that? You’ve been livin’ down here for the last two years and some change, and even made a good name for yourself here in Atlanta. You had the opportunity to reinvent yourself, to become a better man and make an honest livin’. Now you wanna throw all this shit away to move back to Brooklyn? You’re crazy!”

      Karim placed the glass of orange juice on the granite countertop and waved his hand at Rasheed.

      “All I can say is that if you move back to New York and you get into some more shit, don’t call me!” Karim added, taking a bite of some toast.

      Rasheed smirked. “So it’s like that? Don’t call you, huh?”

      Karim turned his back to Rasheed and continued to prepare his breakfast. “You know, Rah, you was never a nigga who listened to any reason. You always had to be the one to do the exact opposite of what anyone told you to do. But you’d think that after all you went through in New York, you would wanna stay here in Atlanta.”

      Getting even more aggravated with Rasheed’s request, Karim turned around with the cooking spatula in his hand.

      “Now, I’m not Nana, I’m not Nayshawn or Shaka and I damn sure ain’t Kemp, who cosigns a lot of your bullshit. The first time I suggested that you move to Atlanta, you wanted to bring your thievin’ girlfriend, Tamir, down here with you. I said no to that. Then you dumped her for Sierra Howell, the correction officer you met when you were locked up on Rikers for your last parole violation. Now when you’re released from jail, you have nothin’ but drama with Tamir and Sierra goin’ at each other’s throats.

      “So I give you another invitation to come down here, to put all of that drama behind you when Tyke, Sierra’s ex-man, comes home from jail. This opens another can of worms because you and Tyke never got along with each other growin’ up. You and Tyke started beefin’ over Sierra and he ends up killin’ Tamir to get back at you! Then to keep him from killin’ you and Sierra, you put a hit out on him!”

      Karim continued as Rasheed just stood there, with a bored look on his face as he listened to his own drama. “So after all that, you end up gettin’ shot by some homo-thug dude named Scooter who you were locked up with on Rikers. By this time, you had no other choice but to move down here.

      “Last but not least, you moved to Atlanta and you discovered that you and Sierra might have a child together. It’s just too much. Can’t say that I really blame Sierra for not wantin’ to be with you, Rah,” he added.

      Karim went back to preparing his breakfast.

      Rasheed began to pace back and forth. “I see how you feel about me, ’Rim. All of these years I’m thinkin’ that you got my back, and now you’re actin’ like I’m a fuckup.”

      Karim made his plate and placed it on the island. He pulled up the leather stool and sat down to enjoy his meal. Before answering his brother, he blessed his food and stuffed some egg whites into his mouth. Rasheed stared at Karim in amazement.

      “Are you just gonna ignore me now?” Rasheed asked with a pleading look in his eyes.

      “Yep. I’m ignorin’ you. Do what you wanna do. You wanna go back to Brooklyn? Go outside and push that fuckin’ Range Rover that I copped for you up 95 North. I’m done with this conversation.”

      Rasheed held his hands up in the air. “You’re sayin’ that I have to drive up to New York now? I wanted to be in New York in time for Messiah’s birthday! This is my chance to make it right with Sierra and if I don’t get there in time—,” Rasheed protested.

      Karim cut him off with a chuckle. He shook his head and picked his plate up from the counter. He walked toward his bedroom.

      “C’mon, man! Now you wanna see Messiah and make things right with Sierra all of a sudden? Who do you think you’re foolin’?”

      With that, Karim walked in his bedroom and slammed the door in Rasheed’s face.

      Rasheed stood in front of the closed bedroom door. He couldn’t believe that Karim had dismissed him like that. They were like Frick and Frack since he moved to Atlanta and Karim made it his business to involve Rasheed in most of his dealings. But Rasheed was tired of doing what Karim wanted him to do. It was as if he didn’t have a mind of his own.

      Rasheed trekked back upstairs to his bedroom and stood in the doorway. From there, he looked at all his bags. For a brief second, he realized that he would be going back to a place where he had left heartache and misery behind. That wasn’t the problem. Rasheed just had a nagging desire to go back and finish what he’d started.

      There were so many mistakes that he made then and the new man in him wanted to rectify them. One of those unfortunate decisions was denying himself the pleasures of watching his son grow up. Regrettably, Rasheed did not have a civil relationship with his son’s mother, and he wanted to change that.

      The last time that he was in New York was exactly a year and a half ago when Messiah was only six months old. Rasheed had made it his business to contact Sierra to let her know that he was going to be in town for a few weeks, and that he wanted to spend time with his son. She seemed doubtful about seeing Rasheed and equally hesitant about allowing him to see Messiah. After some convincing, they eventually met at a neutral location, at the suggestion of Sierra.

      Rasheed remembered that day like it had just happened. He pulled up in his truck and Sierra pulled up in a brand new BMW X5. She had told Rasheed to meet her by the Jefferson High School football field in East New York and she would bring the baby there. Even though it seemed a little inconvenient for the both of them, Rasheed was happy that he would finally be able to lay his eyes on his baby boy once again.

      When Sierra got out of her truck, Rasheed felt his heart flutter. Sierra looked beautiful in her sheared mink jacket and tight-fitting jeans. Her long hair was stuffed into a cashmere beret and her lips glistened in the winter sunlight.

      “Hello, Mr. Gordon,” she said, approaching him with a bored look on her face. “You’re lookin’ good.”

      “What’s up, Sierra?” Rasheed replied with an attitude. He could have kicked himself for being nasty with her, but the sight of her always seemed to make him angry.

      “Why do you have me meetin’ you on this side of town? I’m not good enough for you to drop my son off at the house?” he asked, irritated.

      Sierra sighed. “Why do we always have to go through this crap, Rasheed? You know that I’m still employed with the Department of Correction and I don’t want to go anywhere near Halsey Street. You never know who may see us together.”

      Rasheed threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. Just let me see Messiah. I’m not even goin’ through this shit with you again. I keep tellin’ you that I don’t give a fuck about you being a CO, all right? If I cared, I would have been on the phone with the inspector general’s office gettin’ your ass into major fuckin’ trouble. It’s not like I don’t have the evidence to do it.”

      Sierra bit her bottom lip. Rasheed knew that when she did that, she was pissed off. A smile of satisfaction came over his face. He had hit her where it hurt. He had won that round.

      “You know, Rasheed, I’m really tryin’ to make this thing we have…” Sierra said, trying to hold back tears, pointing back and forth between the both of them. “I’m really tryin’ to make it work for the sake of Messiah. I just don’t understand why you are so angry with me. Is it because I moved on?”

      Rasheed walked to Sierra’s truck, not trying to acknowledge anything that she