Old Georgia

-Jimmy-

The bus pulled up to the bus stop at Cary, Old Georgia. I held my backpack to my chest. I didn’t expect to come back to this place in years. The reason I came back was rather grim one. I got a call from my apartment last night. I have just come in from work when I noticed the light on the answering machine. Curious, I hit play.

“Jimmy! It’s really bad!” a familiar voice yelled. I froze at her words.

That’s Rachel! A puzzled look came over my face. But why is she calling me today? It’s not Christmas, I thought. I walked in closer to the machine.

“Tyrone’s dead,” she said. “He got shot!” My heart dropped at those words. Tyrone’s… dead? That can’t be! Iron Tyrone got shot and now he’s dead? Her words chilled me, but that’s not my only reason for coming home to Old Georgia.

My grandmother died days before. She was the only family I had left. My grandma was the one who pushed me to leave Old Georgia.

“You’re too good for this place, Jimmy,” she said. “Finish high school, go to college, and get out of here.” After seeing two of my friends from high school get shot, I decided to take my future seriously. My grandma was there when I graduated high school and she helped me get into college.

I stepped off the bus, looking around. It all looked the same as it did after I left years ago. I can still smell oil and kerosene from Old Bob’s auto shop across the street. I covered my nose and began to walk. Tyrone and I used to work there part them. We could never get that scent out of our clothes. No amount of times of washing could get our clothes to smell better again. Grandma just wanted to burn my jumpsuit by the end of the first week.

“Please find a better job,” she begged me. I shrugged at her at the kitchen table.

“It’s the only job in town that I can get,” I told her. “Everywhere else just looks down on me and turns me away.”

“You can still find something better,” she said.

“Where?” I challenged.

I crossed the street to that old auto shop. It’s been closed for five years now ever since Old Bob himself died of a heart attack. I shook my head, smiling to myself. That fat, old bastard, I can still see him smoking those nasty cigars to this day. The smell always made me want to vomit. I don’t think he bathed either. The fact that there was no air conditioning in the garage didn’t him with the smell either. I was so happy to have quit after I got accepted into college.

“Make us proud, you rat!” Old Bob shouted as I walked out of the garage door. Today, I’m surprised that it’s not been torn down yet.

I began my walk to the old neighborhood cemetery. The streets haven’t changed at all since I left. I almost find it so creepy. I shuddered as I forced myself to keep walking. The emptiness around does not help. Most of the people I knew in Old Georgia are either dead or had the brains to leave when they could. Rachel’s stuck here because she got laid off from her stable job in Atlanta. It made me sad to hear because she was the only other person I knew that had a bright future ahead of her. One stupid mistake from her bosses above screwed it all over for her. The odd thing is that I haven’t her complain, not once.

“It’s not that bad,” she told me over the phone. “I have the job experience and my masters. I could just get another job and try to get a PhD.”

“What about Phillip?” I asked as I packed up my things on the other line. “Aren’t you getting married soon?”

“Nah,” she said. “That ended last month.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

“Don’t be,” she said. “All he did was cheat on me and try to spend all of hard-earned cash. I just need some time to myself while I figure out what to do next.” I still couldn’t figure out how she does it. Even through that happened to us in the past; Rachel still managed to keep a positive attitude all through school. She didn’t do drugs, sleep around, or drink. She was one of the few rare good girls in Old Georgia. Most of the girls we went to school with ended up pregnant and dropping out. Rachel was lucky to have a mother who didn’t play around with foolishness.

I walked past the old John Baptist Church. A smile crept onto my face as I stared at the freshly white-painted building. Some of my happiest memories are inside there. Tyrone, Rachel, Lenny, and I ran here when we wanted to escape from the hell in out old neighborhood. Minister Tim pretended not to notice us loitering in the church on some days. Sometimes, we slept in the pews when we felt that we couldn’t go home. Through all of the gang violence and horrors of Old Georgia, John Baptist Church still reminded pure after all of these years.

“Jimmy!” an old croaking voice returned me to earth. I happened to look up and speak of the devil, there was Minister Tim walking to tend to the dying church garden. I gave him a small wave.

“Hello minister,” I said. “I see you’re still doing while.”

“The Lord is keeping me in good health despite my age,” he answered. “We missed you at Virginia’s funeral.”

“I got tied up at work,” I said. “I just started my job.”

“I see,” Minister Tim said. “Where do you work now?”

“Joey’s Pizza Palace,” I answered. “Just started two weeks ago.”

“Do you like it so far?” he asked.

“It’s pretty good,” I said. “The hours and the pay work out for me.”

“Are you going to visit Virginia’s grave today?” Minister Tim asked.

“Yes sir,” I answered him. “Hers and Tyrone’s.”

“It’s sad what happened to Tyrone,” he said. “He was a good kid too; just got mixed up in the wrong things.”

“What happened exactly?” I asked. “Rachel was too choked up on the phone to tell me.” The minister wiped away the sweat on his big, wrinkled forehead. I had never seen a man with a forehead that big before in my life. It made the rest of his face look so small.

“There are many rumors going around,” he answered. “Some say that it’s gang-related while others say it had something to do with a drug deal gone wrong.”

“But Tyrone didn’t do hardcore drugs and the thug he hung out with was his cousin,” I reasoned.

“I believe you, son,” the minister said. “I think his thug did something not so bright. Tyrone came along to bail him out like usual and got killed at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Where is his cousin now?” I asked.

“State prison,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. My cell phone began to ring. “Excuse me,” I said. I turned towards the street and answered it. I happened to know Alice’s Ice Cream Parlor facing the church. Another smile formed on my face. That’s where Tyrone and I first met Jennifer. She acted like she owned the place. Despite all of that, she was damn pretty to look at. I don’t think I’ve seen eyes so green like that before in my life. The brown curls in her hair bounced when she talked. Even the annoying way she chewed her gum was cute. I remembered that all of the boys in our neighborhood practically fought over her. We all wanted to married her. Tyrone and I often argued about who would take her out on the first date. In the end, Jennifer left town and married some rich in Maine. I think she’s a stay-at-home mom now.

“Hello ?” I asked.

“Jimmy, where are you?” another voice from my past asked.

“Rachel?” I asked. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she said. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting at the entrance of the cemetery for an hour now.” I suddenly remembered what I was supposed to do.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I apologized with a nervous chuckle. “I got a little tired up with Minister Tim here.” I stuck a thumbs-up to the minister over my shoulder. “I’ll be on my way.”

“Could you please hurry up?” Rachel asked on the other line. “It looks like it’s about to rain any minute now.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there,” I replied. “Bye.” I hung up the phone and turned back to Minister Tim. “I have to get going now,” I explained. “Rachel’s waiting for me.”

“You have a blessed day,” he replied.

“You too,” I said. I gave him one more wave before I headed further down the street.

By noon, I made it down to Roy Elle’s Cemetery. I spotted Rachel standing at the gate with a bouquet of white lilies and yellow roses in hand. She just as pretty as the last time I saw her. The only difference was that she had her long black hair down from those braids she wore in high school. I took off my black beanie hat.

“It’s been awhile,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied. “You ready to do this?”

“Yes,” I answered her. We began our trip to Grandma and Tyrone’s graves.

“Hey, would you like to go pick up some coffee before I leave?” I asked.

“Alright,” Rachel replied.

“Thanks,” I whispered as we came to the far row of headstones.

“It’s good to see you again,” she told me over my grandma’s grave.

“Same here with you too,” I whispered back. I bowed my head in prayer for the first time in years.

Where Goes the Time?