Episode 2: "A Brotha Named Carlos?"

Kareem almost jumped into Andre's lap after turning around to see his big-head brother cheesing in his face. Carlos didn't look anything like the skinny brother he did thirteen years ago. He was twice the size he was when he got locked up at the age of twenty. Hell, three times the size that Kareem could remember! He never once visited Carlos in prison...could have cared less. Kareem figured he would never have to deal with his jailbird bro in his lifetime. But here he was, ready to ride shotgun with Michael Clarke Duncan.


"Well don't leave a brotha hanging," Carlos said to Kareem, holding out his hand for a soul shake. The brothers reluctantly got out the car. Kareem timidly obliged, and almost got the life squeezed out of him. After what seemed like forever, he was finally able to breathe. Andre knew he was next. He managed to get out "Oh my G-" before he got a bear hug from Carlos. With the awkward reunion out the way, it was time to head south.

All was quiet as they pulled onto the Turnpike. Carlos had kept his duffel bag with him as he sat in the back seat while Andre drove and Kareem checked his iphone. Carlos took out a notebook and pen, propped the duffel bag up under his head, and began to write. Andre watched Carlos through the rear-view mirror, noticing how strangely content he was taking notes. He also though it strange how little emotion Carlos showed for someone who just got sprung from a thirteen year stint in prison. He decided to break the ice.

"So Carlos man, it's good seeing you again. Um, mom and pops asked about you," Andre uncomfortably stated. Carlos chuckled as he continued writing in his notebook.

"Oh did they...what were they asking? 'Why the fuck would they let that no good son-of-a-bitch out of jail'? Please. Do me a favor, and drop the concerned mom-and-pop crap." Carlos concentrated a few minutes more on his notes, then sat up and wedged his head between the front seats. "Tell you what, pull in to the next service stop so we can get some grub, gas up and make tracks to the ATL. I know you two are dying to know what I got in store for you. Trust me, it'll be well worth your time. He sat back in the seat, this time he pulled out a fat cigar from his bag, clipped the end and began lighting it up. Andre started to protest but Carlos cut him off.

"So, you're not a real talkative cat, Kareem. The way you're looking at me tells me you got a thousand and one questions," Carlos said, taking a couple of short drags from the cigar. "Fire away." Kareem turned around to face Carlos. He wanted to find out everything that had to do with this gig...why all of a sudden he was chummy with him and Andre...and what was he writing about. But the first question he asked was none of those things.

"A Brotha named Carlos? Tell me that's your street name," said Kareem. Carlos laughed hard at Kareem's question, so tickled that he choked the last bit of laughter out while trying to take another pull from the cigar.

"Believe it or not little bro, that is my real name," said Carlos. Andre was pulling off the highway to the service stop. "Let's get something to eat, and I'll tell you how I got that name."

Andre was having a salad, and Kareem was munching on some chicken tenders. They stopped eating when they saw Carlos's tray of three Whoppers, two fries, and an onion ring...along with two extra large cokes, making his was from the counter towards the tables.

"Damn, I guess he ain't that big for nothing," Andre rumbled in his low voice to Kareem.

"Word," Kareem whispered. "I don't know about this, Andre. How much money is he talking about us making? I could use any extra cash, but I'm satisfied with the money I make being a tekkie at the computer store. And I know you aren't struggling, being a hotshot lawyer and all."

"Make that a struggling lawyer with bills that need paying. From what I gather, we're talking a quick $30,000...each! So, yeah I could use that," said Andre as Carlos was making his way through the tables.

"I don't know, man. My instincts tells me that this might not be legit," Kareem whispered.

"Kareem," Andre said, while still watching Carlos. "believe me bro, this is big, and I'm not talking about Fios." Kareem turned to Andre, trying to figure out what the scheming tone was all about. Carlos finally sat down, and polished off his food in record time. Before they left Carlos told them the story about his name.

"You remember how pops would be gone for weeks at a time, riding those damn eighteen wheelers? And moms would say she didn't feel comfortable being in the bed whenever he was gone? She would always sleep on the sofa in the living room. Well, one night I had to use the bathroom real bad, and with pops gone and moms sleeping on the sofa, I figure I'd go in their bedroom to use their bathroom. Got in the room, and the closer I got to the bathroom, the more I would hear someone moaning. I'm thinking something's wrong with moms. I open the door, and there she was...sucking on some Puerto Rican cock." The brothers' jaws hit the table, while Carlos was enjoying their reactions.

"Don't be talking about my mama ," exclaimed Kareem. I don't wanna hear that shit!"

"Too bad, little bro, 'cause I'm gonna finish telling you the rest of it. You see, I had to go really bad, and I just stood there, waiting for them to leave. I was a bad ass, and wasn't afraid of shit, let alone two naked fools keeping me from peeing. Moms ran out as fast as she could, and dude-man took his time. I glared at him while peeing. He smoothly put his clothes back on, washed his hands and face, and combed his hair. He turned to me and spoke in a smooth spanish accent:

"Listen, you know your mother is a good person. Don't hold this little...moment against her. She has her needs like anybody else. She loves you and your brothers. So, with you being the oldest, try understanding that."

"We talked a little more, and I come to realize what a cool man this is...even though he was getting his pecker wet by moms. Before I left the room to go back to bed, I asked how long he's been knowing moms."

"I would say about thirteen years...how old are you?"

"When he asked me that question, my head was going a hundred miles an hour. When I told him I was twelve, he smiled, and started to leave. I was curious, so I asked him his name."

"Carlos...My name is Carlos."

"He winked at me and left, giving moms a kiss on the forehead before leaving. Mom shamefully looks at me. I didn't need to say a word, but to just give her that look, and I got my answer when she pitifully nodded 'yes'."

Andre and Kareem stared at each other in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you're not our pop's...Henry's...son," asked Andre.

"Nope. And get this. He doesn't know a damn thing about it. Moms passed me off to pops thinking I'm his son, and then names me after her lover. Ain't that some shit for your ass?"