Chewing Tobacco & Chopin
They grew up together, had been boys since 6th grade. There wasn’t anything growing up that these boys didn’t experience together. The skating competitions, the b-ball court, to hittin the streets together when times got hard. Now, it'd been 8 months since they last spoke.
Justin had some shit go down about a year ago and was now sitting in prison facing first degree murder, along with miscellaneous smaller charges. He’d only been in there since March and before then he had proposed to the “woman of his dreams” and his best friend’s baby mom.
It was a little over two hours from Philadelphia to Georgetown, DE. I was riding with Justin’s dad to go see him for the first time since December. His father was a strange man. Growing up in Philly you'd think he'd be somewhat like your typical italian man. He was short and stocky, slightly balding. He usually dressed in work clothes, ripped and stained jeans, and a thin T-shirt, always chewing tobacco. But the man could play the piano like no one you have ever heard. And the entire ride we listened to the infamous composer Frédéric Chopin. "If you don't know nothin about this here man, you better get to readin boy....he's the best!" The ride seemed never-ending and I could feel the butterflies growing in my stomach the closer we got to the prison. I had written him a few letters since he’d been locked up, most of them pretty thoughtless and empty. I didn’t think I’d have enough words to fill a 45 minute time span. I didn’t have to speak though, he did all of the talking. “You know D, I’m facing first degree murder man. I didn’t do it, I swear to you, and I really hope I beat this charge.” His face was weary and his eyebrows sat heavy on his forehead as he thought. “but hey, I really appreciate you comin here for me. I was wrong D, I was really wrong. I should have never disrespected you and tried to wife up your baby mom. And after seeing what she did to you, I don’t know why I thought she’d be a better woman to me.” The visit was up and nothing mattered anymore, I let it all go. “I love you man, see you when you come home”