Being in the cold, creepy hospital waiting room made me completely uncomfortable. My mom was having a biopsy to see if her lump was malignant or benign. I did not understand all the terms, but I wanted the medical folks to find out it was nothing, and that she would be okay, which I understood meant benign.
However, there was something in my parents’ eyes when they looked at each other before she was taken back to have the procedure done that scared me. My dad gripped her hands really tight and kissed them, as if to say, “Whatever comes out of this whole thing, we are going to be able to deal with it.” She nodded slowly and hugged him, not wanting to let him go. He found the chapel in the hospital and went to pray, but I could not move from the waiting room.
My sister was having the time of her life in New York finishing up her ballet tour. She would be back soon. But missing the first few days of school was not all that she did not have to deal with. She had no clue any of this was going on, and I guess the three of us would have it no other way. My parents tried to shield me. They didn’t want me to know any of this either, but they had to reveal the truth to me after that intense fight with my dad.
As I sat in the waiting room, shivering, I wanted to be a better person. I did not think I was cocky. I just tried to be confident, but lately I knew I had not been completely right with Charli. She had no clue I had taken Jackie home. She certainly did not realize that I was lusting over someone else. I had to straighten up my bad ways. So I figured that I would call Charli so I could apologize, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Son, you all right?” my dad asked, startling me out of my thoughts.
I did not understand why he asked me that question. Of course I was not all right. My mom could be dying. However, I knew I was his man, his boy, his baller, and come what may, I was supposed to be tough, never vulnerable, and no emotion was ever allowed.
Standing up to face him, I said, “Yeah, Dad. I’m cool. You straight?”
Clearly, I could see he had been crying. His eyes were red. He had not been sleeping because he had bags under them, and it was not because he was watching film. He told me he had gone to the chapel, so I knew he wanted help from above. Why did we have to pretend like everything was okay? Why did we have to be strong?
Being the tough man I knew he was, he said, “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, this is all taken care of. I have no worries. I was just concerned about you. Your mom is going to be fine.”
Now I do not know why he was so optimistic. He was not a doctor. We had not been given a diagnosis. My mom was not even out of surgery, for goodness’ sake, but he was set on his faith. So I let him believe whatever he wanted.
“Dad, do I have to stay here?” I asked, knowing my mind was going crazy.
He said, “No, son. You got your car. We’ll meet you back at the house. I don’t want you waiting around, and your mom wouldn’t want you stressed out.”
Hearing that comment, I realized that though I told him I was okay, he knew I really was not. Ugh, too much was going on. When I got the okay to leave, I flew out of the waiting room. However, when I got to the elevator, I paced back and forth. My mom might need me. I did not want her to wake up and me not be there. I did not want her to think what she was going through was not my top priority, because it was. I simply was not as strong as I thought I was. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, like I was stuck in that elevator or something, and I could not breathe. I had to get out of there. When the elevator doors opened, I took the stairs.
As soon as I got to my car, I called Charli again. Voicemail again. When the phone rang back, I quickly picked it up, ready to hear my girl’s sweet voice. However, I looked at the sleek black gadget and saw it was Brendon.
“Wassup, man?” I said with little zeal.
“I’m checking on you,” he said to me, not sweating my flat tone. “How’s Auntie?”
Trying to stay strong, I said, “In surgery, cuz. I don’t know. This is real hard, Brenton. What if I lose her? I can’t lose her.”
Becoming emotional, I put the phone on speaker. I took both of my hands and firmly grabbed the steering wheel. With all my built up anger and frustration, I started shaking it. My car wasn’t new, but I did not want to break it. But there was something in that whole forceful movement that made me feel better.
Brenton stayed on the phone and kept saying positive things. Before I knew it, tears were falling. He could hear me. He just told me to go ahead and let it out. I didn’t feel like a wimp. I felt real, and though my cousin was not physically with me, I was not alone.
“You both will be okay. She’s gonna be all right. You’ll see. Why don’t you call Charli, man?” he said after I calmed down.
“Tried. Girl is too busy for me.”
“She’ll hit you back, no worries.”
“Yeah, all right,” I said, as I was getting mad at Charli.
“Well, call me as soon as you hear anything.”
“I will. How’s your mom?” I asked, remembering the crazy dude we had to take down.
“Good, she hasn’t even seen that joker anymore.”
“That’s good because the last thing I want to have to do is …”
Cutting me off, Brenton said, “You don’t even have to say it.”
“Right, all right, man. Take care of yourself,” Brenton said, as we hung up.
Brenton was right. I did need to talk to a female. They were different than guys, and though I could be transparent with my cousin, he wasn’t a female. The scent of a lady, her soft smooth skin on mine, her purring voice … I don’t know … a lady just had a way with a man.
I needed uplifting, and I knew if I called Jackie, I would not have to guess whether or not she would answer the phone. I did not have to wonder whether she would make time for me. I did not have to think I was bothering her. I knew she would pick up, and just as I believed, it happened.
“Blake, oh my gosh, you called me,” she said with excitement.
“Yeah, I need to see you.”
“Cool, my mom’s home. You’re welcome to come over. She’s making plenty of fried chicken if you’re hungry.”
“Ask her if that’s all right. I don’t want to just come over.”
“She standing right here. It’s fine.”
“All right, I’ll be there in a second.”
When I pulled into Jackie’s driveway, I had second thoughts. I had not broken up with Charli. However, I needed her and she was not there.
“Oh my goodness. Is this the Blake Strong who’s got my daughter all crazy?” a lady whose T-shirt was two sizes too small asked.
I could definitely see where Jackie got her ways. Her mother was not trying to be old. She was flirtatious as she smiled, winked, and felt my muscles.
“Come on in, don’t be shy. Jackie told me how things went down last night, and you were there for her. I really owe you, so come on in here and get some of my food. I know how to do a proper thank you. I’m old school, but I don’t look it, right?”
“Mom,” Jackie called out, as it was clear she was embarrassed by her mom’s antics.
She took me by the arm and led me into the kitchen. “Calm down, girl. I know you like him. You two talk. I’ll be right back.”
My eyes were wide open when Jackie’s mom exited. Her bottom had sass. She was twitching too, hoping I looked for sure. Her mom looked like she really should be her sister.
Jackie saw me staring and confessed, “She was a teen mom. Don’t tell her you think she’s hot because she will be sweating you for real, thinking she has a chance. ’Round here she’s actin’ like she’s the teen and not me.”
The two of us laughed. Jackie was truly cool though. No pomp and circumstance. She was real, and I loved that we were not trapped behind a wall of politeness.
“She’s cool. It’s good to have somebody who you can hang with and who cares.”
“I care about you,” she said, as she put her hand on my cheek. “You said you wanted to talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nah, forget it,” I said, suddenly wanting to man up.
Jackie would not let up. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“It’s my mom. She’s having a biopsy today.”
She came real close to me and hugged me. Our bodies eased down to the chair. I did not know where her mom was in the house, but when she was sitting on my lap, everything in me arose. Next thing you know, she was making me feel good as her lips met mine. If someone was to say, “Charli,” I would say, “Charli who?” And could you really blame a brother?
“So wassup, man?” Leo said later that evening when I was hanging out with my boys at the bowling alley.
Leo Steele was our defensive end. He was a phenom. At six three and a half, two hundred twenty-five pounds, he had amazing speed and the longest arms, ready to wrap an opponent, plus the super strength to tackle them and keep them down—my boy was beyond a stud. However, he had lots of issues. He was not the smartest kindergartner in the class from what I heard, and now that we were in high school, he was some years behind. Since he did not like being embarrassed, he did not ask questions. So when Leo got lost, he acted as if he didn’t care. To get attention, he got into tons of trouble. Other than being on me hard, my dad was on Leo even more. He told him if he had one more bout with the law, he was going to be thrown off the team.
Unlike Leo, who was really living the life: running with the bad crew and truly being a troublemaker, Landon liked to front. Landon and I both liked hanging with Leo; he was so loyal. He was my boy, but he was Landon’s brother from another mother. Landon could never keep anything from him because he felt that spilling his guts would make Leo accept him more. Landon wanted to be cooler than what he was. He always told Leo everything. They were two peas in a pod. Even though Landon’s dad, the good old reverend, didn’t like him hanging out with Leo too much, they did.
“Sorry about your mom, man,” Leo said.
“Look, I don’t want nobody feeling sorry for me. I don’t want this all over the team. I told Landon to keep his mouth closed,” I said, looking over at the culprit.
He threw his hands up like he didn’t say anything, but I knew Brenton would never talk. Brenton did not even like Leo. Landon did not have to admit it. He was guilty by default, and by the stupid look plastered on his face.
“You need to loosen up. Take your mind off all of your troubles. With all of this pressure on you, you deserve to chill out,” Leo said, holding a bottle of something. “Come have a little nip with me and my boys. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Where we going?” I asked, needing to know what I was signing up for.
Leo looked tough and said, “Over on Watts Road.”
Everybody knew Watts Road was where the freaks, the goblins, and the goons came out at night. I had absolutely no business saying, “Yeah, I’ll go,” but frustrated and upset, dummy me said, “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Come on, you can ride with me,” Landon said.
But I always had my own ride so I could jet out when I wanted to go. Also, I knew I had a curfew. I didn’t need to be breaking it again. Actually, my parents were not bothering me because of all that was going on. Was not hearing any news from my parents a bad thing? Maybe they hadn’t received the results yet. Either way, Leo had a good point. There was nothing wrong about chillin’ with my boys. When I followed them, I called Brenton.
“Wassup, man, you got a word?” he said, being positive about my mom’s prognosis.
“Nah, partner … I’m just letting you know I am hanging out with Landon and Leo.”
“Leo? Say what? Doing what? Don’t tell me you are going to that lame party on Watts Road. I know you would not go there with them,” Brenton scolded.
I could not say anything. There was silence on the phone. I really did not need him telling me what I needed to do. I had enough pressure on me as it was. Honestly, I was a little sick of Brenton being so darn goody-goody. My cousin was staying around his crib, making sure no more trouble came to his mom. That was admirable, but I was not like him.
“I just thought you should know,” I finally said with an attitude.
Brenton and I had a rule. Always tell each other, even if it was tough, where you were going. We vowed to keep the whereabouts confidential unless one of us went missing and the other had to spill the beans. Of course, we made this pact when we were much younger, but he knew the rules. He couldn’t go blabbing to my parents that I was hanging out in a shady place.
Half an hour later, Leo, Landon, and I were hanging outside because the house was too small, and too many folks were up in there. It was probably a health code violation or something with that many people, and none of us wanted to be foolin’ with all our cousins.
Leo pulled out a brown paper bag, unscrewed a top, and handed the bag to me. I did not know what I was drinking. I did not care. I turned it up. Problem was I took too big of a gulp and I started choking.
Leo joked, “Easy, partner.”
I looked up at him like, Dang. Why you ain’t tell me to take it slow before I drank it?
Without me asking, Leo read my look and said, “My bad. I thought you would have took just a sip.”
“You know he don’t drink nothing,” Landon said, grabbing the bottle and trying to be the big man and show me how it was done.
His tail choked too. The mixture was strong. Leo laughed at us both and practically dared us to try it again.
Up to the challenge and still wanting to numb my pain, I grabbed the bottle back with the brown liquid in it. This time being sensible, I took just a swallow. Leo took some. I did not like the taste at all, but I liked how it burned my insides and made me quickly shake off my frustration. I grabbed the bottle back and took another chug because it just felt like putting that alcohol in me was killing the germs of fear growing inside like bacteria. Then I started seeing double, and I was squinting because the dude who was walking toward me was the dude from the party a couple nights ago who hit Jackie. He was coming at me like he had beef with me. Whatever was on his mind, I had to let him know I wasn’t having it.
So I rushed up to him and yelled, “What?”
He said, “What? Why you all up in my face?”
I pushed him, and then he came and pushed me, and it was on. “I saw you eyeing me down. What? You want some of this?”
“You better step back with yo’ drunk behind,” the grainy-looking dude said.
“Are you going to put your hands on a woman? Come on, it’s a real man right here. Why don’t you put your hands on me? Huh? Huh? I’m standing right here. What you gonna do?” I challenged.
He pulled out a gun. I was stunned. I heard something click behind me.
Leo said, “Blake, don’t move.”
“Wassup, Le—? Man, you gonna pull a gun out on me like that?” the dude asked.
“Shameek,” Leo said, telling me the guy’s name. “Put up your gun, man.”
That’s right. The crazy dude’s name was Shameek. I could not believe I was staring down the barrel of a .357 Magnum. I was frozen, stiffer than something that had been in the freezer for months. What the heck had I got myself into? I actually did not want the guy to hit me, and I certainly did not want him to kill me.
Shameek looked at Leo and shouted, “I ain’t got no beef with you, Leo. Come on, man. This is between me and pretty boy right here. When I finish with him, his mama won’t even recognize him. You need to go on and let me handle this. Don’t make this a war. He can’t be worth that to you.”
Leo laughed, letting Shameek know I was worth the risk, and said, “I think everybody needs to calm down.”
“What he needs to do is take that gun out my face,” I finally said after getting the courage inside to be real.
Or maybe it was the doggone alcohol talking. Maybe it was just because I was frustrated with my life. At that stupid moment, getting shot didn’t scare me.
“Shut up, B,” Leo said.
When Leo stepped closer to me, I was shocked to see Leo had a gun pointed right back at Shameek. Leo did not need to do anything crazy. I wasn’t worried about losing my life, but I was super concerned about Leo throwing his away.
“What the heck, Leo?” I said to my friend, not knowing he was packing.
Leo said, “I invited you over my way, and I got your back. You need to go on and get in your car and take off.”
“Nah, he ain’t going nowhere,” Shameek said, as he stepped so close that I could almost feel the steel on my temple.
“I’ma go with him, Leo. Come on, Blake. Let’s go,” Landon said, grabbing my shirt. He was the only one with sense out there.
“Hey, man. I ain’t going to let you stand here with no gun and take him out for me. It ain’t happening like that, partna, no,” I said to Leo.
“Boy, will you take your butt out of here,” Leo said. “Landon, y’all go.”
“How you going to get home, Le?” Landon yelled, after he pulled me out to the street.
“I am home, fool,” Leo said, as he cocked his gun to let Shameek know nothing needed to be tried.
Shameek’s gun was no joke. Leo packing was a surprise too. Watts Road was where men died weekly. I could never live with myself if Leo was next to go.
However, when I got to my car, I could see Shameek and Leo were talking like boys. Thankfully, all guns were put away. Landon handed me the bottle, and I took another gulp—this time able to handle the tough potion. I just chugged. I needed to go to the bathroom. Shucks, I just had a gun pointed in my face. I was sixteen, and that had never been my life.
“You are too drunk to drive,” Landon said, trying to get my keys.
“I ain’t drunk. I got this.”
“All right, I’m getting my ride. Let’s go before that crazy thug comes back at you.”
I knew I owed Leo one. All I was trying to do was defend Jackie’s honor. Turned out, I needed someone to defend me. I knew I was going to have to watch my back from now on.
When Landon turned off to go to his house, I swerved, forgetting that wasn’t the way I lived. I let down the window because I needed air to blow on my face. I still was tripping over all I had just endured. While I would not want to live without my mom, with all she was going through, it would break her heart if I was gone. Not realizing the alcohol had taken over some of my faculties, my foot kept pushing harder and harder on the gas pedal. I was on the wrong side of the yellow line in the middle of the road a couple of times because I couldn’t really tell where it was.
This was a problem because before I could get myself completely together, red and blue sirens were going off. I was being pulled over. I knew I was in trouble.
Talking to myself I said, “All right, Blake, be cool. You got this. You all right. You made it through your mom’s operation earlier today and a gun assault just now; certainly, you can take a few words with the officer. This is no problem.”
I had my hands on the steering wheel like my dad told me. My window was rolled down already so I was prepared to answer any questions. I was also ready to be polite. I had my driver’s license and insurance card ready to hand to him.
The stern-faced, black officer said, “Young man, did you know you were all over the road?”
“Sorry about that, officer, sir.”
“Any reason?”
“My error, officer. I do apologize.”
“License and registration, please,” he asked, not letting up.
I had pulled out my insurance card and forgot my registration. When I leaned over to get it out of the glove compartment, the officer pointed his flashlight into the car.
Abruptly he said, “Step out of the car, right away! Hands on the hood! Get out right now!”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. Why was he tripping? I was being polite. I had not lost it. I was cool. I complied.
Then he asked, “Why do you have an open bottle of alcohol in your car? You know that’s against the law? You been drinking tonight, son?”
I hung my head at that point. I was caught. I was trying to figure out how I could talk my way out of it. Football was king in our area of town, and our team was projected to do well in the state, so I prayed that the officer liked the sport. Our whole football team knew many of the cops liked working our games.
“Sir, can I be honest?” I said, trying to think of the only thing I could say. “There’s a lot of pressure on me right now with this upcoming season—I play for the Lockwood Lions—and I know I’m not twenty-one. You have my license right there, and you can clearly see I’m not. But as the starting quarterback for the team, I am very responsible. I didn’t realize it was in the car. It’s not mine. It’s a buddy’s and—”
“You’re making excuses now, son?” the officer grilled, like I was a piece of meat being cooked over the coals.
A little timid, I said, “No, sir. No, sir.”
I did not ever want to be a criminal. I felt humiliated with both of my legs stretched apart, being patted from behind. Having my hands put in handcuffs like a thief was no picnic either.
“Officer, I said I’m sorry. Come on, man. Can’t you give me a break?”
“I’ma give you a break, but I’m not going to let you get back in that car and drive.”
I could not believe I was locked in a jail cell forty minutes later. Thankfully, no one was in there with me, but I was creeped out. I heard moans and groans from other tough men. Though they could not see me or touch me, I felt that this had to be a nightmare. I wanted to call my dad. My curfew had passed, but after sitting there for two hours calling the guard, and no one coming back to get me, an officer finally came back there. He unlocked my cell and then led me to a room where the officer who booked me was waiting.
I was both happy and sad when I saw my dad waiting too. “So should I just leave you here locked up? Officer Butts’s son was a senior when you were in the ninth grade, so you might not remember him. He’s doing me a favor by not pressing charges. But we wanted to scare you and show you what kind of trouble you could really get yourself into … show you what the results would be if you keep on going down the path you’re on. Alcohol, son?”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said.
I wanted to tell him, “If you wanted to teach me a lesson, well, applaud yourself, because you succeeded.” I thought the hospital was sterile and cold; this place smelled and was eerie too. Though I didn’t ask for it, my dad wasn’t the only one who gave me a lecture.
Officer Butts said, “Young man, you’ve got your whole future ahead of you. A lot of young brothers get into trouble because they have no positive activities. They have no parents or role models. They have nothing really going on in their heads because they haven’t applied themselves in school. That’s not you. People get hooked on alcohol and drugs just trying it one time. People with so much promise throw their lives away. Talk to somebody if you need to vent—not your teammates. They don’t know any more than you do. Talk to an adult, a therapist.”
“Butts, please,” my dad yelled, “that boy better get a dog and talk to that. A therapist? Please … I should …”
My dad was clearly getting upset, and he started to charge at me. Officer Butts pulled him to the side, and the two of them talked until my dad settled down. I knew when I got in the car that my dad’s anger was just going to flare up again.
“Can I go?” I said to the two of them.
Officer Butts nodded. “I don’t want to see you back in here again.”
“Yes, sir. You won’t. Thanks,” I said with a respectful tone, knowing that was expected of me.
I was not really feeling like the cop looked out for me. He could have followed me back home if he had my back and knew my dad. He didn’t have to bring me down to jail to make a point. Shoot.
When I was in the car with my father, he surprised me by not saying a word. That really hurt me because I knew by his silence that he was too pissed for words. I could just hear his voice going, “All that we’re going through right now… all that we’re dealing with. All the stuff with your mom and you’re just going to go and be stupid?” but he said nothing.
Then he finally asked, “Where is your car?”
We drove by the spot, but my car was gone. At that moment I honestly could not take it. Someone had stolen my ride. That was the icing on the cake, and the cake was already too sweet. What was I going to do now? How could he ever forgive me? How could I deal with the mounting pressure?