I got the alert while I was on the train. It was happening. Now. No time for delay. I had just left him, but I texted my boyfriend right away. This was important. He had been anticipating this moment for quite some time and a failure to act could be disastrous.
He didn’t respond right away and my battery was low. I desperately tried to find out more myself, but the signal between stops wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do anything more until I was situated at home with the proper resources.
By the time I got home 25 minutes had passed. Still no text. I tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. I knew that time was running out.
Even though I am one of “those people” at times, I never want to be “that girlfriend”, so I was hesitant to call again. But I did, multiple times. This moment required it. He just wasn’t picking up. I sent a facebook message, then twitter. Even more texts. What was he doing? Should I be worried? I could see that the messages (on each platform) were delivered.
An hour had passed. I could see clearly that the chances of this working out were getting smaller and smaller. It was the proverbial wave goodbye as your loved ones fade into the distance. Goodbye happiness. Goodbye pride. Goodbye hope.
Finally the phone rang. It was him. “Are you ok?” he asked. I was relieved he had finally called. I was fine, but I felt no guilt for ringing the alarm. I let him know what was happening and how urgent the matter was. He could act now. And not just on behalf of himself, or me, or us. The tentacles of this affair were far reaching. Now there were consequences for others and the entire community would be looking for answers.
Many men pontificate ad nauseum then mull for days over decisions that women make on the spot for the benefit of their families. Sometimes it’s as if they just want you to know they are capable of thinking and potentially making decisions. But on this day, this man was bold in his actions. He was resolute when faced with stark choices and dire consequences.
The phone fell silent and I wasn’t sure what has happening for a moment. But when he came back, I could sense the victory in his voice. It was a turbulent journey, but oh how sweet the reward will be. Our safe passage to the Motherland has been arranged. Necessary provisions have been procured.
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We’ll see you in Wakanda.
here is a list of opening weekend, total domestic and total worldwide sales for black movies dating back to 1971.
i had written a clever intro for this blog post with calculations of how often george zimmerman called 911 in the weeks before killing trayvon martin. but then i found out that the 46 calls he made to 911 were over a period of 8 years, not 2 months. womp, womp. still, 46 is a lot of emergencies.