Transcription
Working with my father was mind blowing. I couldn't believe how big it was, how loud it was, how fast everything was going. I felt like an Amish kid in Vegas.
"What's up George?"
"Hey, Herc."
"Sup. Who's this?"
"That's my son, Chris."
"Who's Herc?"
"Herc like Hercules. That's a strong man." The only other names I knew my father by were the ones my mother called him, and they didn't have nothing to do with being strong.
"So Little Herc. You funny like your old man?"
"My father's funny?"
"Oh, he ain't that funny."
"Funnier than you two, corny--"
My father never cursed at home. So hearing him curse at the job made me feel like I was in a secret club.
"Get to work before I bring your mama back in here."
"Oh, no. No. No, mama stuff."
"Okay, whatever you say. See you Little Herc."
"You know what? Tell your mama to come back here, too, man. Hey, let's get to work."
I haven't heard cursing like that since my father stepped on my mother's bunion.
"Excuse me, nurse. Um, my baby's stomach is killing her."
The thing about people who work in emergency rooms is they're not the ones with the emergency. You are.
"Really?"
"Uh. Oh. But did you see Tracy last week with her new man?"
"But do you see me standing here with a sick child? Do you see me here talking to somebody?"
"Quit hollering at people. You know I don't need this. My man has three jobs."
Being at work with my father was one of the coolest things I ever did. We broke laws.
"Hey, hey, hey. We can make it. Hold on, man, hold on."
"Whoa! Let's go, let's go! Yeah! Curse people out! Hurry up! Let's go! Get out of the way! Kiss my ass! That's right, that's right."
That was one of the most exciting nights of my life. We delivered papers in Brooklyn. We delivered papers in Queens, Little Italy, Chinatown, Spanish Harlem, Puerto Rican Harlem, the Bronx, Greenwich Village. We delivered papers to people I didn't even know who could read. And after delivering more than 15 tons worth of newspapers. All I could think was, where the hell is the sun?
"Um. Number 36. The doctor will see you now."
"Oh, no. No, no. Come on. This is ridiculous. Who's gonna help my baby?"
"That man's been shot."
"Well, just because she's not shot doesn't mean she isn't hurt. If this wasn't an emergency, we wouldn't have to come to the emergency room."
"Look, if she doesn't get to see a doctor, we gonna have to get you a doctor. Yeah. Now."
"Julius, you got to take that truck back over to DeKalb."
"I'll do it tomorrow."
"No, I need it done now. You can't find somebody else?"
"Why should I find somebody else? I found you. I want that truck back over to DeKalb now."
The only person I ever saw tell my father what to do was my mother.
"Dad, you're just gonna let him tell you what to do?"
"Either that or I won't have nothing to do."
"Come on. That hurt."
"You worked hard."
"Yeah. It feels kind of good, though, don't it? Yeah."
After everything I'd been through, I understood my father a lot more. Because when you work that hard, you think about every dime you spend. And I was thinking about how I was going to spend mine.
"$25?"
"That's right. You earned every penny. Don't forget to ice down your arms."
"But I need 50 for the jacket."
"No, you don't. You want 50. There's a difference. When I asked you for the jacket, you said I should get a job, and I got a job."
"Job didn't pay enough."
"Man, you got $25. I didn't make my first $25 till I was 30 years old. And I still got two of them. Look, you want the jacket? Save your money. You can work with me again next week."
"Okay."