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home,” said Harold as he
folded the Baltimore Star newspaper. Trevor’s mind began to wander
off into space imagining the stars and the distant planets. “How did
mom and dad ever meet?” Trevor thought as he watched his mother with
her head bowed. “God, thank you, thank you, thank you, now let’s
eat,” Harold quickly said. Trevor bit down on his teeth and inhaled
because he wanted to laugh, but he could see the pain in his mother’s
eyes so he forced himself to remain straight faced. “Besides our six
foot muscular frames, and dark chocolate complexion, my dad’s sarcasm
was definitely one of the things I was thankful to possess,” thought
Trevor. “Don’t say anything mom, just eat,” Trevor thought
to himself. “Harold?!” mom asked. “The jilted sound in
her voice made my heart crumble,” Trevor thought. “What, Yvonne?”
dad asked in an ignorant tone as he began to devour the fish and red beans
and rice. “God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food,”
Jewel quickly recited. “Amen,” Travis and I quickly said. “Amen,”
Jewel and mom said as they glanced at dad refilling his glass. “The
telephone ring appeared to be the only thing that grabbed dad’s attention,”
thought Trevor. “I’ll get it!” Jewel shouted as she darted
from the table and raced into the kitchen. “Who’s calling?”
Jewel asked. “Oh hello, Bosch, Trevor is eating right now,”
said Jewel as Trevor quickly got up from the table, and looked at Jewel
as she handed him the phone. “Style, I didn’t mean to disturb
the festivities, but I wanted you to peep these tracks I made,” said
Bosch.
“I’ll be over as soon as I’m done eating,” said
Trevor. “I’ll see you then, Style,” said Bosch. “Peace,”
said Trevor as he hung up the telephone. “Ma, I’m going to run
over Bosch’s real quick, but I’ll be back in by eleven,”
said Trevor. “Empty the trash on your way out and please be careful,
Trevor,” said Yvonne as she and Jewel prepared to wash the dishes.
“I can’t wait to bless Bosch’s tracks,” thought
Trevor as he carried the large green trash bag down several flights of urine
drenched stairs. “Bosch creates those new age science fiction sounds
blended with head banging beats,” thought Trevor as he tossed the
large bag alongside a dumpster overflowing with garbage. “Bosch was
on something extremely different and I knew it was merely a matter of time
before millions around the world recognized the true definition of a symbiotic
relationship; Bosch’s musical greatness combined with my lyrical greatness
can only benefit us both,” thought Trevor. “Once we go platinum
I can buy mom and dad a beautiful large home with four bathrooms, pay for
Jewel’s college tuition, and get Travis a really good team of psychiatrists
to help him cope with the fact it’s not cool for brothers living in
the ghetto to be high school drama majors,” Trevor thought. “It’s
been about two months since Bosch and I went to several malls, walked to
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