Excerpt for Deep Water by , available in its entirety at Smashwords





Racq Symphony Publishing


A Note from the Author

I have tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity in some instances, I have changed the names of some of the individuals and/or places. I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations and places of residence.

Scriptures used throughout the book are taken from the King James Version unless otherwise noted.

© 2017 Shakita R. Dixon

Cover design by Teira E. Farley, Epiphany Intuitive Solutions, LLC

Author photograph by JaCayla R. Dixon, Jaytography

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the written permission of the publisher.

First Edition: March 2017

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN-13: 978-0-9986627-0-1 (paperback)

ISBN-10: 0-9986627-0-4 (paperback)

e-Pub: 978-0-9986627-1-8

e-Pub: 0-9986627-1-2

Smashwords Edition

To my grandmother

Willie Mae Dixon-Hargress

The days I needed you, I felt your presence. When my faith and hope seems like it was fading away, I looked into the brightness of the night sky and saw your face. Daily I am reminded that even though your body left this earth some 20+ years ago, your wisdom, your smile and your spirit still dwells among us all. Thank you for being my rock and my blueprint.

Track List

Track 1-Intro

Track 2-A Family Affair

Track 3-School Is Now In Session (Interlude)

Track 4-Summertime

Track 5-Sweet Home Alabama

Track 6-The Day I Came Home

Track 7-So I Met This Guy

Track 8-Something Old, Something New

Track 9-Pomp, Circumstance & Opportunity

Track 10-I’m Going Back to Cali

Track 11-The Sunshine State

Track 12-On My Own

Track 13-The One I Gave My Heart To

Track 14-I Got Five on It

Track 15-Side Effects of You

Track 16-Tales From the Krypt (Interlude)

Track 17-Before I Let You Go

Track 18-A Book…Why Now?

Track 19-So…What’s Next?

Track 20- Last Call


Track 1

I was a skinny, dark-skinned girl; the second oldest of four children, two boys and two girls, that my mom brought into this world.”

THANK YOU FOR tuning in to DEEP WATER. I’m Shakita. To some I’m Kita. To one I am mother and to many I am a friend. Today, I’ll be your D.J. so sit back, relax and take this ride with me down memory lane. I want to thank you in advance for stopping by and listening to the smooth sounds of trouble, trials and triumph. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show.

I was born and raised in Montgomery, Alabama. That came with a lot of pride, struggles, temptations, and ups and downs. The home of the civil rights movement. Where Rosa Parks took her seat on the bus and demanded respect. If you go to visit there now there are still remnants of that space in time, that rich history all throughout downtown Montgomery. It is my birthplace and home. 169 Collingwood Drive was the home we grew up in until I was 9 years old. I was a skinny, dark-skinned girl; the second oldest of four children, two boys and two girls, that my mom brought into this world. My daughter likes to nickname me her “Black Barbie”. I’ll take that. My oldest brother is the athlete of the family. From wrestling to football to basketball to running track, you name it, he did it; and he was excellent in it too. My baby sister is the third of the pack; No filter personality with the biggest heart she can contain. Then there comes the last one of us, the one I consider my own child, my little brother. His testimony is similar to mine, in a sense.

March 22, 1984 I entered this world; two months too early by the pregnancy timeframe, but right on time according to God’s purpose. I received my name from my mother who, at the time, wanted to name me after the banana but she didn’t know how to spell it, so she wrote it the way it sounded to her. Shakita. Three pounds, three ounces, no bigger than a loaf of bread they say, but full of fight and determination. This same fight and determination I would need for the seemingly lonely and difficult road I traveled ahead. Breaking all records that I set for myself in school, I obtained high averages, remained on the honor roll and was even invited to become a part of the national honor society.

You see, dreams are not that hard to come by. Bringing those dreams into reality is the hard part. My life was no basket of roses and harmony growing up. There was a point in my life where there was so much death surrounding my family I almost thought God had placed a curse on me. It seemed like every year to two years someone was dying in my family. The first person was my rock, my heart: my grandma. She was the light of the family. She was our rock. You see, my mother birthed us into this world, but she was a baby herself at the time. My mother was and still is an only child. She had no sense of responsibility. I never knew my maternal grandfather. It was only recently that I found out that he was a New York native but loved to visit the south. That’s how he met my grandmother and that’s how my mom got here.

My grandmother raised us. She taught us, cared for us, fed us and clothed us. She was the grandmother that would pinch you if you went to sleep in church but would also buy you the new Keds that you wanted for your birthday. The day she left this earth, at that time, I believe was the worse day of my life. A heart attack while driving to pick up my little brother from daycare would take her away from me. Knowing that her car flipped over into a ditch by the TA truck stop will forever be with me. Every time I go home and pass by it, I remember her. How could I function without her? Who would I lean on and run to? Even as I write this I still get emotional because she was my everything and I didn’t get a chance to tell her how much I loved her and needed her before she left. I’d like to think that God took the best parts of my grandmother and my parents and mixed it with a whole lot of Himself. The end result is what you will see at the end of this book.

PAUSE! Let me just say that the intentions of this book is to allow the world to see God’s hand move swiftly and strategically in my life. There is nothing sugar-coated in here so if you are looking for sweet nothings, this is not the book for you. In no way am I trying to shame or embarrass my family. Just like the disciples had their own account of Jesus, this book is my account of my life growing up and moving forward, from my perspective. This book will flow like a cassette tape in the stereo player. Whenever you see the words pause and play in bold, this means you must pause; take time to digest the reason or lesson and then play; meaning let the melody of my life’s experience sing to your situation. What can I say? I’m an 80’s baby that loves old school music.

PLAY! Let’s move along, shall we?

A Family Affair

Track 2

What makes a family a great family is the time that you spend with one another and the memories that you create, whether good or bad.”

AFTER THE PASSING of my grandma, my siblings and I would go on to live with our great-aunt Catherine, who was my grandmother’s sister, along with my first cousin and her mom, Carolyn in Ridgecrest. 4406 Esmond Road. The house was adorned with black burglar bars that I regularly slid through for fun. Back then you knew you had money because if your house had those bars, especially the ones that needed a key to unlock them, that meant that something inside was valuable. She had a huge den built onto the back part of the house by my late uncle that also had a fireplace in it and a huge barbeque grill made out of bricks on the back patio. Her house had a pecan tree in the front that I always climbed and a pear tree in the backyard. That was a sign of wealth to us.

Ridgecrest is the Compton of Montgomery but love lives there too. You can find loud music, fish fries, and yard sales on any day. You can also find plenty boarded up houses, broken down cars, gang bangers hanging out on the corners with the school dropouts and drug dealers with the drug heads floated around like bees to honey. Crest side really is the best side and I don’t care who tells you different, lol. I love my hood.

My cousin was an only child, so she fit right in with us like another sibling. My great-aunt Cat picked up right where my grandma left off, in a sense. This would be the aunt that taught me how to cook, introduced me sewing and kept the oldies playing throughout the house. My first cousin Mo, along with my oldest brother and little sister decided we would make a singing group and go on Star Search. We had written a lot of songs and even made dance routines to them. Not one of us could sing, but please don’t tell my sister that. We never quite made it to Star Search though (LOL).

There was never a dull moment in that house: from watching the Dallas Cowboys demolish the other teams on TV, watching wrestling, jumping off the roof to experimenting with the chemistry set in the den only to blow a hole in the floor and get a beating for it. Aunt Cat had a piano in the living room that was flooded with picture frames of family members. She also had a bookshelf in there that housed her encyclopedia collection. That was google for us back then. Sometimes I walk through that house in my mind and everything comes back to me so vividly. I remember the night she left. My aunt had fallen ill and was on a breathing machine in her room. Who knew that in a matter of two years, my aunt would no longer be here and why would I have to be the person to see it?

Picture this: white picket fences, dogs running around the yard playing with their toys, kids swinging in the chairs on the porch, parents sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea, with a lemon wedge barely hanging on the side of the glass and eating watermelon. This is what the fairy tale southern family looks like. Although I thought this is what a family should look like, this was nowhere near what my family appeared to be. That wasn’t my family photo scene.

My family was a little different. Growing up, we were very close. Every year the older family members, mostly my grandmother and her siblings, would orchestrate the family reunion trip. Panama City was always our destination. I can remember several instances where we awoke early in the morning. Our bags were packed the night before. We didn’t have scheduled stops for food. Oh no! We packed our lunch. The smell of fried chicken, hot sauce and light bread filled the charter buses.

The older cousins would bring coolers of beer on the bus and some would even be drunk before the buses departed from Montgomery. Ain’t that something? We would arrive to the beach, setup out areas and get ready to hit the water with our floats. One year, I decided that I was going to follow my brother and other cousins. I normally don’t go all the way into the water at the beaches because I couldn’t swim. I still can’t swim today, but that’s another story for another book. This time I allowed my brother to tempt me into going out in the deep part of the water. He led me all the out there and then he left. As the water began to fill my nostrils and I began to sink further and further down into the ocean, I thought that was it. I was finally leaving this earth and it’s all my brother’s fault.

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