“I got my bachelor’s and after that I wanted to go to grad school to become a dentist. But, I guess I got sidetracked.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I struggled to get through school. It wasn’t like I came from money. My pops hustled in the streets. He did the number game and had speakeasies in the city, and while we wasn’t poor, we wasn’t rich neither. I guess after I graduated and I came back home to Philly, I saw everybody hustling, getting fast money, you know, and I wanted a piece of it. I always said I’d go back to school and become a dentist and open my own office someday. I just got sidetracked and one thing led to another.”
“I see it led you right here to my operating table.”
“Yeah, I always thought I was invincible. I never saw myself shot up and in a wheelchair. I have a friend, Christopher Cole, who we all called Forty, and he was kidnapped last year and held for a million-dollar ransom. Even though I paid his ransom, his kidnappers still shot him up and left him for dead. I remember going to visit him in the hospital. His body looked weak and frail and he was all beat up and bandaged up and the doctors said he’d never walk again, and to this day, he’s still in a wheelchair. But I’ll never forget the day I went to see him after he had been shot up and I knew then that I didn’t want this life. I knew then that I didn’t want to end up like that.”
“So what did you do?”
“I stopped. I gave up the life, and I stopped selling drugs.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and you know what’s so ironic, I ended up shot and in a wheelchair anyway.”
“Well, you know we’re gonna work on that, right?”
“Hey, I’m surprised you let me outside.”
Amelia couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, you’re lucky, real lucky.”
“In more ways than you could ever know.”
“I just don’t understand why you would choose to sell drugs. Of all the things you could do to make your life better, you chose that.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t judge me. I hate that. People always think of drug dealers being these low-life scum buckets, and that, for the most part is never the case.”
“I’m not attempting to judge you, Quadir. I’m just trying to understand.”
“That’s just it. It’s something that you can never understand. The life I live, and the life these brothers is out here living in these streets, can’t be explained or understood. Not from sitting on a park bench on a nice side of town, beneath an oak tree.”
“I guess I deserved that. I guess I can never understand the world that you come from, but I can learn more about it.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Why do you live it? All bullshit aside, you’re smarter than that. You’re a very intelligent man who could do so many things with his life. Really, that’s what I don’t get. You’re smart, you’re fearless, you’re young and handsome. The world would lie down for you, if you asked it to. Why not go out and do bigger things?”
Quadir leaned back in his chair. He was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to feel about Amelia. She was drop-dead gorgeous, a dime to say the least. And she was a hell of a surgeon. The fact that he was still breathing testified to that. She was smart, and dedicated, and she was straight up. She didn’t act all high and mighty, like some bourgeois bitches, after they had finished college. And what was really tripping him out was that she really seemed to care about him. Not just about getting him back up and walking again, but about his life and his future. She was challenging him physically, mentally, and emotionally. He had never had a woman do that before.
“C’mon, let’s get you back inside before those bitches in the recovery ward start tripping.”
Quadir threw his head back in laughter. “I have never heard a doctor like you before.”
“I’m the new generation of doctors. We kick ass. We heal it, but we kick it too.” Amelia rose from the bench and began to push Quadir back into the hospital. “Don’t make me have to fuck you up behind your therapy, either. ’Cause you know I will.”
“And you said you’re the new generation, huh?”
“And don’t get it twisted.”
Fully Loaded
Amelia tossed Quadir a towel so that he could wipe the sweat from his brow. He quickened his pace on the treadmill to a rapid jog.
“Okay, Jesse Owens, let’s not overdo it,” she told him.
“Relax, doc. I’m one hundred percent. Plus, I had a pretty good therapist who whipped me back into shape.”
Amelia tilted her head and smiled. “Good try, but flattery will get you nowhere.” She climbed onto a nearby stair stepper and began exercising. “I’m going to check and make sure your wounds are healing okay. I don’t want them to reopen from the inside-that could just be the worst.”
“Will you stop worrying? Doc, you did your thing. The Q is back!”
“All right, Qua. Let’s just hope that he’s here to stay. It’d be a shame to have to take you back to the hospital because your gigantic ego burst open your stitches.”
Quadir joined in the laughter. He flipped the off switch on the treadmill and walked to the stair stepper, where he lifted the doc into the air.
“Boy, what are you doing?” she shouted. “You can’t lift me, I’m too heavy. You’ll rip your insides for sure.”
“Heavy? What do you weigh, a buck fifteen at the most? And that’s probably with all your clothes on and soaking wet.” Quadir set her down.
“Watch your wounds, please,” Amelia said in all seriousness as she turned to face him.
“Why? I got the best doctor in the land.”
“I know that’s right. See, I knew you was a smart man.”
“What made you want to become a doctor?” Quadir asked.
“It was all I could think of being when I was a little girl. My first little plastic stethoscope had me hooked.”
“Man, that’s a lot of schooling, though. How’d you stay focused?”
“I don’t know; I just did,” Amelia said.
“I know your family is proud.”
“Oh, God, yes. You should see my father. He has an entire photo collection of me in his wallet. He’s really my biggest fan.”
Quadir sat down on a weight bench, grabbed the towel again, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“This is a really nice gym you got here.”
“Thanks, I figured since I don’t have any children, no roommates, and no pets, I’d turn the spare room into my own fitness center. Why pay for a gym, you know?”
Quadir looked at Amelia as she lay on her back counting crunches as she moved her upper body off the floor and then back down again. She really was quite amazing. She was not only beautiful, but also smart, practical, financially independent, and full of determination. After Quadir’s extended stay in the inpatient rehabilitation center of Hahnemann, he was upgraded to outpatient status. It was then that Amelia brought him home with her, where she and her housekeeper could nurse him back to health.
“Doctors must make a lot of money.”
“We do pretty good. I think the industry is suffering, you know, with insurance and HMOs and all that, but yeah, we make an honest living.”
“Well, if this is an honest living, I’ve been wasting my time in them streets.”
“Why you say that?”
“Yo, this is a mansion. Your house is absolutely amazing. You sure you just a doctor?”
“Of course; don’t be silly.”
“Damn, I’m in the wrong profession. If motherfuckers in the hood could see this shit here, they’d all be signing up for medical school.”
“Really.”
“Really,” Quadir responded, looking around the weight room.
Outside the door from where he sat was a sauna, a steam room, and an indoor swimming pool that had a retractable glass top, making it an outdoor swimming pool on warm, sunny summer days.
“Why me, though?”
“What do you mean, why you?”
“What I said. Everything you’ve done for me, saving my life, fighting to make me walk again, against my own will, and bringing me to your home. You didn’t have to do half of the stuff that you’ve done for me. So, I’m just a little curious as to why you’re helping me.”