"Yes Doctor," I said, as if the Grim Reaper was about to cut me in half.

He looked up from his desk with a smile.

"Hey."

I wasn't in the mood to be cordial. "Sup, man?"

He was smiling. Big time. I was getting mad. I didn't like men toying with me. Fucking me, yes.

But toying and clowning? I didn't like

Parker Brothers or Chutes and Ladders.

"I'm dying. And you're smiling."

"It's a beautiful day Mrs. Jackson."

"Really?"

He uncoiled from the chair and walked up to me. "I have some good news."

"Jesus is coming back?" I said sarcastically, closing my eyes to hear what this so called good news was.

"Charts got mixed up. You don't have

cancer."

I kept my eyes closed. I had to suck in air.

This couldn't be happening.

I ran out of his office before he said April Fools. And it was the month of July.

I drove home in silence. I couldn't believe what the doctor had told me. No wonder they were smiling at me like that.

They know they fucked up.

Kill 'em with a smile, 'ey bitches? They mixed up my charts.

I should kick their asses, got me thinking I was dying of cancer. I must admit a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders.

What a relief!

I should sue their asses! Scaring me like that!

I looked at the sunshine differently. I

smelled the air differently. I turned on the radio, lighting a cigarette. And then I heard it.

The commercial said, "Want to go see Janet Jackson on B.E.T's 106 and Park? Go online and send in your request..."

I, Melissa Jackson, will be going online to send in my request.

New York, are you Freaky Deaky?

To Be Continued...