Weekeeweejee

Weekeeweejee

A Story by R J Fuller
"

Do we really want to contact those in the after-life? Maybe we should be more concerned with the present life.

"
"Hey, Taresha!" 

"Hey, girl!"

"What you doing?"

"Nothing much, just seeing who wants to chat a while."

"Yea? What's going on?"

"Still bummed out." 

"Girl, I know what you mean."

"I guess it had to happen to someone we know eventually."

"Seems like it. Po-po killing young black men every chance they get."

"I know it. Just didn't think it would happen to someone like Dinetre." 

"Hey, girl, Kametra is online now." 

"You gonna try to talk to her? How's she doing?"

"I don't know. She was real . . . hey, Kametra, how you doing, girl?"

"Hey, Najahne. I'm allright." 

"Hey, Kametra."

"Hey, Tanesha. What'cha got going on tonight?"

"Nothing much, girl. How you been doing?"

"Allright, I guess."

"Girl, you know they shouldn't have done that to Dinetre."

"I know."

"All the police do is hunt young black men and kill them." 

"And then get off scott-free."

"Mm-hm." 

"I just know I sure do miss him." 

"I know you do, girl. I know you do." 

"I was checking out memorial sites and came across this really strange one. Either of you ever heard of Weekeeweejee?"

"No, girl. What's that?"

"It was something you can do to remember someone who has passed away."

"What do you do?"

"Everyone who wants to do it types in weekeeweejee and we're able to remember something about someone we lost."

"Sounds interesting, but I don't know, girl. Hey, Tanesha, what are you doing, girl?"

"I was looking up weekeeweejee. I think I got it spelled right."

"What have you found out?"

"Basically what Kametra said. If we all text weekeeweejee, then we can remember someone we lost."

"Girl, I don't know."

"We can see what it does. What harm can it do?"

"I'd like to try it."

"Did you try already, Kametra, to see what it said about Dinetre?"

"No, I had just found out about it and decided I'd see who was online and what you thought."

"Allright, let's give it a shot, see what happens." 

"Everybody agreed?"

"Yea."

"How do you spell that? Weekeeweejee. Looks Norwegian." 

"Weekeeweejee." 

"Weekeeweejee." 

"Now what?" 

"I don't know. Anybody see anything yet."

"I got something."

"What?" 

"What is that? A leaf?"

"Looks like a flower."

"What's it doing?"

"It's a little green flower."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." 

"Try clicking on it."

"Okay, I did."

"Whoa!"

"What happened?"

"It says, welcome to weekeeweejee. Text the first initial of the person you want to remember." 

"Do we all do it?"

"I got that message, too."

"Okay, let's all type D."

"Did you do it?"

"Yea, I did."

"What now?"

"It says now text the second letter."

"Oh, come on."

"Let's get through this together, okay? Everybody type I, then let's all say together when we type the next letter."

"Okay, all together." 

"I-N-E-T-R-E!"

"Now what?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, I got something." 

'What is it?"

"Somebody's private messaging me."

"Who?" 

"I don't know, . . . oh my God!"

"Who is it, Najahne?"

"I don't know."

"Is it Dinetre?"

"Najahne, if it is, tell him to contact me."

"Kametra, it can't be Dinetre. Do you think we are contacting the dead?"

"Oh, my God!"

"Najahne, what is it?"

"He says he knew Dinetre."

"Who is he?"

"Let me ask."

"What did he say, Najahne?"

"He said he was friends with Dinetre when they were little children."

"What's his name?"

"He says, . . . . he says he's Shardrelle." 

"I never heard of him."

"Well, remember, we only met Dinetre about four years ago."

"He says he and Dinetre were in grammar school together."

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"You recognize it, Kametra?"

"What's he saying now, Najahne?"

"I'm asking him why is he private messaging me about Dinetre when I've never met him?" 

"What did he say?" 

"He's just saying he and Dinetre were best friends in kindergarten."

"He's known him a long time." 

"Why is he contacting me about Dinetre if I don't know him?"

"Ask him if he's doing Weekeeweejee, too?"

"Allright, hold on." 

"Tell him to contact me, Najahne." 

"What the?"

"What's he saying, Najahne?"

"Kametra, he, . . . oh, sweet Jesus!"

"What's he saying?"

"Kametra, he says, . . . . he says he wants to die, too, like Dinetre." 

"Oh, no!"

"I don't want to talk to him no more!"

"Najahne, we got to do something! Where is he?"

"I don't know and I don't care!"

"Najahne, ask . . . "

"Oh my Lord!" 

"Najahne, ask him where he is!" 

"I don't want to."

"Najahne, he needs help!" 

"I don't know what to do!" 

"Ask him where he is! I'll contact 911!" 

"Oh, Lord!"

"Najahne, you've got to ask him. You're the only one in contact with him."

"Oh, God!"

"Najahne!"

"Allright, allright. I'm asking where is he?"

"What's he saying?"

"Oh, God!" 

"What's he saying?"

"He's just saying he wants to die, too! Oh, God!" 

"Taresha, you got hold of somebody yet?" 

"I called them. They're trying to see if they can trace it. Keep him talking."

"Oh, God!" 

"What's he saying now, Najahne?"

"He's . . . he's . . . he's not saying anything. He's logged off." 

"Then they can't trace him."

"What did he say his name was? Shadrelle?"

"It says, . . . Shardrelle."

"Somebody should be able to find out who that is." 

"See if you can get that name to the suicide prevention, Taresha."

"Taresha, can you contact 911 again?"

"Taresha?"

"Guys?"

"What's going on, Taresha?"

"I got a private text." 

"Oh, Lord!"

"Who's it from, Taresha?"

"I don't want to do this anymore!"

"Najahne, calm down!" 

"I'm through. I'm outta here."

"Najahne!" 

"Kametra?"

"She's logged out. Najahne's logged out."

"Kametra?"

"Who is it, Taresha? Is it Shardrelle, or whatever that name was?"

"No, she says her name is Tira."

"Do you know her?

"No, I've never heard of her, but she says she knew Dinetre."

"How did she know Dinetre?"

"She says she's pregnant by him." 

Silence.

"Kametra? Did you hear me?"

"So what? Who cares what she says."

"Kametra, . . . she, . . . "

"What's she say now, Taresha?"

"I'm asking her why is she telling me this."

"What's she saying?"

"She says she don't want to have the baby."

"She should have thought of that before she let him screw her, shouldn't she?"

"I'm asking her why she's telling me this and all she is saying is she wants to have an abortion." 

"I don't care what she does. I don't even know her."

"I don't know her either, but I don't want her talking to me about having an abortion."

"Put her in contact with an abortion doctor."

"Kametra!"

"Okay, hold on. I'll look one up. I wish Najahne was still on here."

"I don't want to talk to this girl, Kametra."

"Hold on. Tell her to go to PROCHOICE-dot-com, and see what they can do for her." 

"She's going to abort Dinetre's baby, Kametra!"

"She's going to abort her own child. Why would he get some other girl pregnant? If he wanted a child, he could have told me."

"She wants to destroy the last remnants of Dinetre, Kametra." 

"I would have had his baby, especially if he was going to be killed like this, to have something to remember him."

"Kametra, I think she is upset."

"She should be. Wanting to kill Dinetre's unborn child." 

"What should we do, Kametra." 

"Taresha?"

"Huh?"

"I did love him."

"I know you did, Kametra." 

"I loved Dinetre so much, and now you are telling me this girl I don't even know is pregnant by him." 

"What do you want to do, Kametra?"

"I want his baby in my belly, that's what I want." 

"So what should we do? What do I tell her?"

"I, . . . Taresha, I don't . . . . "

"Kametra, do you want her baby?"

"I want Dinetre's baby."

"Kametra, . . . "

"Even if it is his baby with someone else, if I can't have him, I want his baby. Lord, Taresha, what am I saying, girl? I loved him, Taresha?"

"I know you did."

"I loved him so much, I'd raise his child by another woman, Taresha!"

"She's gone, Kametra. She's logged out." 

"Oh, Lord!"

"Kametra, I'm sorry." 

"Lord, I loved him so much, and he's gunned down in the street. Why wasn't he here with me, instead of roaming around, getting some other girl pregnant?"

"I don't know, girl." 

"I want to hate him for being out with someone else, his friends, this girl, any girl, instead of being with me, and I want to hate the white officer who killed him, but I can't, because he shouldn't have been out seeing who or what he could find. He should have been here with me! Why wasn't he here with me?" 

"Girl, I don't know." 

"Why wasn't he here with me?" 

"Kametra, girl, . . . . I didn't want all this. I'm tired. I think I'm going to log off now too." 

"Allright, Taresha, you're right. We didn't need all of this. Who were these people? Why did they contact us?"

"I don't know, girl. Well, you going to be okay?"

"Yea, girl. I'll be fine." 

"Allright. Good night, Kametra." 

"Good night, Taresha." 

Silence. 

"Well, . . . if nobody is going to contact me, . . . . if you aren't going to contact me, . . . . or text me, . . . . . I might as well log off as well. I hope you had fun. People wanting to die for you, . . . abort babies over you. And you have nothing to say to me? --- I guess not. Maybe I don't have anything to say to you. Don't know why I thought I did." 

She switches off her phone. 

"Maybe I did contact you tonight, Dinetre," Kametra says aloud to herself. "Maybe I learned what I wanted to know after all." 
 

© 2021 R J Fuller


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Added on July 20, 2021
Last Updated on July 20, 2021
Tags: online, chat, murder, killed, pregnant, sorrow