Unconsciously, James reached for the cell phone.  Just as he grabbed the phone, Curtis nervously pulled the trigger, firing a deadly shot to James’ abdomen.  For a second, James thought he’d been punched, but when he touched his stomach he felt the sticky warmth of his blood.  James was shot.  He struggled to stand, but collapsed to the pavement.  Shock and fear began to choke him and everything began to turn white. 

            “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!  Why that niggah have to move, huh?  Why he have to move?” Curtis yelled hysterically, knocking himself in the head with his hand.  Chuck sat in the car, petrified, his head buried in the spokes of the steering wheel.  He kept repeating to himself, “What did we do? What did we do?”  

            “Man, come on, let’s go!  You done killed dude we gotta get the fuck outta here! Come on niggah, let’s go!”  Carlton said, pulling Curtis away from the scene and into the waiting getaway car.  “Move niggah!” Carlton snapped, pushing a catatonic Chuck out of the driver’s seat.  With Curtis’ head spinning a mile a minute and Chuck whispering prayers to himself, the three drove off, hoping that the horror of the last five minutes was nothing more than a terrible nightmare.    

James heard his cell phone ring for the second time.  He momentarily blocked out the sleepy sensation that was overtaking him.  He struggled to pull himself up on one elbow to answer the familiar ring. 

“Baby, where are you, you should have been here over 10 minutes ago,” Tariff said chuckling with mock annoyance. 

James heard the words in his head and struggled to make them leave his mouth.  Finally, he faintly heard himself say, “A couple of blocks away near Elm Avenue , I’ve been shot!” 

            Tariff felt the shot of adrenaline and panic hit him.  Before the words had completely settled in his brain, he yelled, “I’m on my way baby, hold on, don’t hang up!”

Tariff sprinted up the street toward where James lay dying.  His pace didn’t affect his dread-drenched words of support to his soul mate.  He didn’t want to lose the sound of James’ voice.  When Tariff reached James, his body dangled between the car door and the ground.  He desperately looked around to see one of the neighbors coming around the corner.  Tariff yelled for her to call 911 as he slammed his own cell phone to the ground and ran to James’ side.  Tariff slid down next to James and put his upper body in his lap as he waited for help to come.

            “I’m sorry to spoil our anniversary, baby,” James uttered with short breaths, his eyes almost completely closed.

            The sound of James apologizing shattered Tariff’s heart.  “You didn’t spoil anything baby.  We’re goin’ to have plenty more to celebrate,” Tariff said, tears streaming down his cheeks.  James could feel the life force slipping out of his wounded body.  James suddenly started to see a warm soft light, and the sound of Tariff’s voice grew muffled and faint.  He fought to look at Tariff, but his vision became blurry and all he could think about was whatever was waiting for him on the other side.

            “Listen, Tariff,” James dribbled out, “I want you to know that I have always loved you and I always will.  Baby…” James paused before continuing, “if I don’t make it I want you to know I will still be with you.  As he felt his heart drumming to a slower beat, he finally said, “But I want you to love again, okay?”

            Tariff shook his head from side to side in disagreement, not wanting to hear what James was saying to him. “Don’t talk like that James, just hold on for a little longer.  It’s going to be alright.  You’re not going anywhere.”  Realizing that time was rushing by, Tariff looked up frantically, eyes darting from corner to corner, wishing to see flashing lights and hear siren sounds of hope, but there were none.  The cool and eerie silence told the story.  As Tariff looked back down at James, he had closed his eyes.  They would never open again.  Rocking James in his arms, Tariff cried and kissed James’ lips.