I bent over in pain from the blow to my stomach, which was hurting like hell. I turned around to run. I looked and didn’t see Norman ’s old car. In fact, I didn’t see any car. Norman and my brother had left me. I couldn’t believe they really left me over on St. John , knowing that I would get my ass whipped just for being from the other side of town. I knew that this was my ass.

I heard someone say, “Hey man, stop. I know him. That’s Reggie Manchester, man. He’s cool.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, nor could I look up. I was still hurting from that punch to my stomach.

“Reggie,” the guy said, “come on, man. I’m going to take you home.”

This guy who stopped the fight helped me into the car. He said, “Man, you need to go to the hospital tonight.”

I said, “For what?”

“You’ve been stabbed,” he said.

“What?” I said.

He said, “Reggie, look at your stomach, man.”

When I saw all that blood, I said, “Are you sure this is my blood?”

“Hell, yes,” he said. “The other guys who were there said you had been stabbed with an ice pick. That’s why you were thinking that he had hit you with his fist.”

My newfound friend dropped me off in front of the store. He seemed to know that I had an apartment on the side of the store. “Reggie,” he said, “you go to the hospital tonight, man. I’ve got to go. You know I can’t be caught on this side of the tracks. Hey man, you need to kick them two niggers’ asses that left you over there on St. John . Take care, man.” Then he drove off.

I found out later who he was. We went to the same high school. His name was Jamie Summers.

I was still high, but the pain was unbearable. When I lay down in my bed, I must have fallen to sleep right away.

Sara Jordan was a close friend of mine. We would date off and on. She came over the next morning and used her key to come in.

I was laying there in bed when she said, “What happened to your stomach?”

I noticed how my stomach looked and I got scared. My stomach had swollen to the point that I looked like I was nine-months pregnant, and I was hurting so bad that I couldn’t move. Sara went and got Madera from Big Mama’s house. As soon as she saw the condition that I was in, she called the ambulance to take me to the hospital. While I was in the emergency room, my appendix was leaking inside my stomach. The doctor told Madera that he had to operate as soon as possible.

After my surgery, I was taken to a room where there was another stab victim. I remember the nurse saying “That man is in bad shape. We don’t think that he’s going to make it.”

I just knew she was talking about me. While I was lying in my bed, uncomfortable and in pain, I couldn’t help but think about what she had said the morning after I had my surgery that I wasn’t going to make it. As I was dozing off and on, I woke up to my grandmother coming into my hospital room.

I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life. My grandmother had her best-looking clothes on. She was wearing a brown hat with a long feather sticking out the side, a black dress with white polka dots, and a short fox coat with about six fox heads hanging around her neck and shoulders.

When I saw what Big Mama was wearing, I started crying and saying, “Big Mama, I am dying! I am dyyyyyyying!”

By this time, I was crying as loud as I could. My grandmother took me into her arms and said, “Shhh, shhh. You’re my grandbaby and I ain’t going to let you go anywhere now. Why do you think you are dying?”

“Big Mama,” I said, “you’ve got your funeral clothes on. Every time you go to someone’s funeral, you wear your hat with the feather and your polka dot dress.”

“Reggie,” she said, “Reggie baby, I wear my good clothes for special occasions and you are special, you are my grandbaby. You are not dying.”

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