Zendon Corman called his band After the Crash. Sometimes he performed with two other guys from the neighborhood at a little club off Grant Avenue. New bands were allowed to perform and keep whatever change went into the bowl. Sometimes After the Crash performed for a small fee at small events.
Sami Archer had them play that Saturday night. She was throwing a fish fry celebrating her parents’ wedding anniversary. Jaris and Sereeta were invited to the fish fry. When they walked in, Sami approached them with, “Hey, what’s the scoop on Kevin and Carissa?”
Sereeta looked uncomfortable. “I think Carissa sorta likes Zendon Corman, Sami,” she replied.
“She dumped Kevin?” Sami cried.
“I don’t know, Sami,” Sereeta responded. “Maybe they just both decided to see other people or something.”
Jaris spotted Carissa then, near where Zendon was warming up with his band. Zendon was a tall guy with a big smile. He played the guitar and sang while the other guys played drums. He looked a lot happier than Kevin usually looked. Carissa was laughing with him.
“Plenty of fish and hot sauce,” Sami was saying. “My daddy and my uncle got real lucky when they went fishin’ yesterday. So eat up.”
Jaris sampled some of the fish and washed it down with soda. He eased over to where Carissa was and asked, “Hey Carissa, wasup?” Oliver Randall and Derrick Shaw were right behind him.
“Aren’t these guys awesome, Jaris?” Carissa bubbled. “Their music just gives me the chills.”
“I’m kinda into soul now, Carissa,” Jaris responded. “I’m listening to all kinds of music.” Jaris paused then and said, “Uh Carissa, you and Kevin—?”
The smile left Carissa’s face. She looked uncomfortable for a few moments. Then she said, “It got too tense with Kevin, Jaris. I was always like walking on eggs. You know those moods he gets.”
“Oh yeah?” Jaris replied. “So then . . .”
“Yeah,” Carissa admitted, “we were at this little club. I got to talking to Zendon, and Kevin got a little mad. We argued. I mean, Jaris, we’re teenagers, right? I’m gonna be eighteen in a couple months. But anyway . . . that’s too young to hang with just one guy all the time. Mom says I oughta be having fun with a lot of people. If Kevin is gonna get possessive . . .” Carissa looked sad. “It’s not that I don’t care about Kevin. I mean, I do, but . . .”
Jaris couldn’t argue with Carissa’s reasoning, but he felt sorry for Kevin. What if Sereeta suddenly started hanging out with some jerk with a band? He could only imagine how he would feel. Not that Kevin and Carissa had what Jaris and Sereeta had. But, still, Kevin seemed to like the girl a lot. They were always together.
“Kevin is going down to the gym a lot now, huh?” Jaris remarked. “I guess he thinks he might want to be a boxer.”
“That’s another thing I don’t like, Jaris,” Carissa responded. “I hate boxing. It’s so brutal. We argued about that a coupla times. His dad was a boxer, you know. And it didn’t help him control his violent streak. He ended up killing a guy. He ended up in prison and dying there in a riot. My mom says maybe Kevin has a violent streak too. Maybe he got it from his father in his genes or something. Mom’s pretty smart. She reads a lot, and she watches this psychologist on TV. He talks about stuff like that. Sometimes Kevin scares me.”
“Carissa, Kevin has never hit you or shoved you, has he?” Jaris asked.
“Oh no, never!” Carissa asserted. “He’s a good guy, he really is.”
Jaris had met Carissa’s mother a few times. She was pretty, like Carissa. She dressed like a teenager. She didn’t work. She just spent all day reading magazines and watching trash TV and gossiping with her friends. It was Carissa’s mother who let Kevin’s terrible secret leak—that his father had killed a man. That set up Kevin to be taunted by Marko Lane. Kevin almost went off the deep end. But Kevin forgave Carissa for revealing his secret to her mother. After all, Carissa knew her mother was a gossip. Kevin seemed to really love the girl to forgive her like that. Jaris felt very sorry about the whole thing. He wasn’t mad at Carissa. She was confused. But he felt bad for Kevin. He deserved a break.
Jaris sat down under some trees in the Archers’ yard and ate more fish with Sereeta. “Usually I hate fish, but this sauce is great,” he commented.
“Yeah, I love hot sauce. The hotter the better,” Sereeta agreed.
The band stopped playing for awhile, and Zendon was sitting on the grass with Carissa. His hands were all over her. He bent over and kissed her, and she giggled.
“It’s none of my business,” Jaris noted, looking at the pair. “But that scene makes me sick.”
“Yeah,” Sereeta said. “But I guess a lot of teenaged romances break up.”
“Except us,” Jaris declared. “Remember our promise to each other? Someday we’d be sitting together in a little café in Paris. That’ll be years from now, and we’ll talk about the good old days. We’ll love each other even more than we do now.”
“That’s impossible, Jaris,” Sereeta smiled at Jaris.
“What’s impossible?” Jaris asked her.
“That I could ever love you more than I do now,” Sereeta replied, laughing. “You know, when we first started dating, I liked you a lot. But you liked me more than I liked you. Now I love you more than my own life.”
“When we’re sitting in that café in Paris,” Jaris told her, “we’ll talk about that play we were in, A Tale of Two Cities. And we’ll talk about our friends and our teachers, Ms. McDowell and Mr. Pippin. And we’ll talk about the crazy things like the Princess of the Fair contest, and going to the beach.”
“We won’t look like we do now,” Sereeta mused. She reached up and ran her hand down the contours of Jaris’s cheek. “You’ll be older and wiser looking, but you’ll still be handsome. You’re the kind of guy who stays handsome all his life.”
“And you’ll still be beautiful, Sereeta,” Jaris responded. “You’ll always be beautiful. And I love you too, more than my own life, babe.” He kissed Sereeta.
The next Monday morning at Tubman High, what Jaris feared would happen did happen. Many of the people at Sami’s fish fry were kids from Tubman. They all saw Carissa and Zendon acting like sweethearts. The word was out that Carissa was hot for Zendon and that she was done with Kevin Walker.
Marko and Jasmine latched onto the news like flies on garbage. When Kevin showed up for Mr. Myers’s English class, Marko was waiting for him.
“Hey dude, my condolences,” Marko said with mock concern. “It’s gotta be hard, man.”
Kevin just glared at Marko and continued on his way to English. But Marko wasn’t done. “She’s really hot for Zendon now, you poor fool. She’s left you in her dust. Hey, whatcha gonna do? That dude has a band. Chicks go for guys with bands. Maybe you oughta get yourself a band, dude.”
Lydell Nelson was coming along and glanced in Marko’s direction. He stopped in his tracks and stared blankly at Marko. It was as if an ugly little bug had wandered into Lydell’s path.
“You ever see a man die?” Lydell asked Marko. Lydell’s voice had no expression.
Marko looked startled. Jasmine gasped. “What’s that?” Marko demanded. “Whaddya say, man?”
“I once saw two guys clobbering this man in the park,” Lydell explained. “They just jumped him. I don’t know why. He died.”
Marko looked at Jasmine, then at Lydell. “Why you saying stuff like that to me, dude? You crazy? What’s wrong with you saying stuff like that to me?”
Lydell shrugged and went into Mr. Myers’s classroom.
“He one crazy dude,” Marko said to Jasmine.
Kevin had watched the exchange without saying anything.
Later that day, when Jaris and Chelsea got home from school, Mom was sitting in the living room. Her principal, Mr. Greg Maynard, was there too. Mr. Maynard had come to the Spain house for quite awhile.
For a long time, Jaris disliked Mr. Maynard. At that time, Mom and Pop had been fighting a lot. And he always seemed to be coming around. He was always showing up with his oily charm. He was divorced, and he clearly he liked Mom. Jaris always thought he wanted to cultivate a deeper friendship with her.
“Hello Jaris, Chelsea,” Mr. Maynard called out when the pair came in. “My, you youngsters are growing.” A huge smile was on his face. “You’re a senior now, eh Jaris? And Chelsea, already going to Tubman High. Your mother tells me you’re both doing very well.”
Jaris felt he could never completely trust Greg Maynard. Like Mom and unlike Pop, he was educated, suave, and charming. He was also, Jaris thought, devious. Pop was just what he appeared to be. Mr. Maynard, Jaris thought, had hidden plans. “I’m sure your mother has told you the exciting news,” Greg Maynard gloated.
Jaris got nervous. He darted a look at his mother.
“Jaris, Chelsea,” Mom explained, “I’ve been chosen to represent our school district at the convention in New Orleans next month. I’m just so very proud. Greg nominated me, but many other excellent teachers were nominated too. And I was selected! So I’ll be spending four days in New Orleans planning the future of language arts education in our whole school system.”
“Oh, that’s great, Mom,” Jaris said limply.
“You mean you’ll be gone for four whole days?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes, sweetie,” Mom chirped. “And I’m sure you guys can manage very well without me.” Jaris had noticed that, when Greg Maynard was around, Mom chirped a lot. Jaris thought she sounded girlish and a little silly.
“We’ll get to New Orleans on a Friday morning,” Mr. Maynard added. “We’ll be at the convention Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. We’ll be returning Tuesday morning.”
Jaris focused immediately on one little word—“we.” Greg Maynard said, “We’ll get to New Orleans.” That meant Greg Maynard was going with Mom. “Were you chosen to represent the district too, Mr. Maynard?” Jaris asked.
Greg Maynard chuckled. “No, no. All the principals are going by virtue of their positions,” he explained.
“When is this?” Jaris asked in an increasingly cold voice.
“In about four weeks,” Mom replied. “I’ve never been to New Orleans. So that’ll be exciting.” Mom giggled. Mr. Maynard chuckled again.
“Everything about it will be exciting, Monica,” Greg Maynard remarked.
To himself, Jaris said, “I bet it will. I just bet it will.”
Jaris wondered whether Pop knew about this yet. Surely Pop didn’t know. Pop went to work this morning whistling. He would not have done that if he knew about this. At the breakfast table, Pop was talking about the new uniforms he was getting for his auto repair business. They were going to be cool forest green uniforms. The logo “Spain’s Auto Care” was going to be in black stitching on the pockets. Pop seemed on top of the world this morning. Business was booming at the garage. All was well.
Nope, Jaris thought, he doesn’t know.
Jaris went down the hallway to his room, leaving Mr. Maynard and Mom talking in the living room. Chelsea followed closely.
“Jaris, that’s bad, isn’t it?” Chelsea said.
“The trip to New Orleans?” Jaris asked.
“Yeah. Both of them going is really bad isn’t it?” Chelsea said again.
“It’s not good,” Jaris admitted.
“Pop doesn’t know yet, does he?” Chelsea asked, a very serious look on her face. “He doesn’t know she’s going away with him for four days.”
“Well,” Jaris said. “It’s not exactly just the two of them going someplace. It’s a big teacher’s convention. There’ll be lots of people and seminars and stuff . . .”
“Pop won’t like it,” Chelsea declared.
“No,” Jaris agreed. “You got that right, chili pepper.”
“I wish she wasn’t going,” Chelsea sighed. “Things have been nice around here. I wish they hadn’t chosen Mom.”
“Yeah,” Jaris responded.
Chelsea was quiet for a while. The wheels were turning in her head.
“Jaris,” Chelsea asked grimly, “you know that fish fry we went to at the Archer house? Maya told me Carissa Polson has dumped poor Kevin for that skinny dude with the band. Zendon somebody? Carissa was just hanging out with Zendon and not meaning for anything to happen. Then pretty soon she decided she liked Zendon better than she liked Kevin.”
Chelsea’s eyes grew very large, and she looked worried. “Now Mom’s gonna be hanging with that sneaky Greg Maynard, and he’s real charming.”
“No, no chili pepper,” Jaris asserted. “That’s not going to happen with Mom and Maynard. Mom loves Pop a lot, and she always will. It’s different with Kevin and Carissa. You know Carissa. She’s always been an airhead.”
“But that old Maynard,” Chelsea objected. “He likes Mom. He has this real gooey voice when he talks to Mom. He reminds me of a slippery snake.”
“I don’t like him either,” Jaris admitted. “But I trust Mom. It’s just a dull old teachers’ convention, and it’ll be over before we know it.”
But in his heart, Jaris was having the same fears as Chelsea. He didn’t want to upset his little sister even more, though, by agreeing with her.
“Pop won’t like it,” Chelsea said again. “Boy, it’s gonna be bad around here tonight, Jare.”
Jaris went to his computer and did some research for AP American History. But he couldn’t concentrate. He heard Mom and Maynard in the living room. They were laughing and chatting and chuckling. Jaris hoped Maynard was gone by the time Pop came home. Jaris imagined Pop walking in, all greasy and sweaty, in his new green uniform. Then he’d see Maynard in his pressed suit, sitting on the sofa giggling with Mom.
Jaris shook his head. “Oh man, that would be one bad scene,” he thought.
Jaris propped his chin in his hands. He’d read about New Orleans. It was a very romantic place. It had wrought iron balconies in the French Quarter and soft jazz floating from the windows. You could ride a riverboat down the Mississippi.
Luckily, Greg Maynard left about ten minutes before Pop came home. “Hey babe,” he exclaimed to Mom. “You look beautiful as usual. I’d give you a big hug and kiss. But I’m in no condition to hug a beautiful lady right now.” Pop laughed his big, hearty laugh. He was in a great mood.
“Oh Lorenzo,” Mom bubbled, “something really exciting happened to me. About forty teachers were nominated to represent our school district at the big convention in New Orleans next month. And I was the one chosen!”
“Say again?” Pop asked.
“The big annual educational convention in New Orleans,” Mom explained. The wind was slightly taken from her sails. She sounded nervous. “I was chosen over forty other teachers to represent our district.”
Jaris and Chelsea stood in the hall, unseen and listening. They stiffened, waiting for Pop’s response. Pop didn’t respond.
“Next month,” Mom went on. “The educational convention . . .”
“You goin’ to New Orleans next month?” Pop asked.
“Yes, for four days,” Mom explained. “I’ll leave on a Friday and be back Tuesday morning. It’s all expenses paid. It’s quite an honor to have been chosen, Lorenzo. It’ll look good on my teaching record.”
“So, you goin’ by yourself, Monie?” Pop inquired.
“Well, Mr. Maynard, my principal, of course, will be going too,” Mom replied. “All the principals are going.” Her voice had begun to sound hollow. It had lost its emotion.
“Mr. Maynard,” Pop repeated in a hiss. “So the deal is, you and Maynard are goin’ to New Orleans for four days.” Pop’s voice had turned rough at the edges. Jaris could only imagine the look on Pop’s face. He didn’t want to see it. Of such looks nightmares are made.
“Lorenzo, don’t put it like that,” Mom chattered with a shaky laugh. “We’re both going to the educational convention in New Orleans. There will be hundreds of educators from all over the country. We’ll have seminars and workshops on the language arts programs in all the elementary schools. It’s quite a big deal.”
“And then, of course, there’ll be time for a little recreation,” Pop suggested. “Hey, all work and no play makes you teachers dull boys and girls. You hear what I’m sayin’? You guys’ll get the chance to stroll through the French Quarter. You’ll be serenaded by those dudes playing horns. Then maybe you’ll stop at one of those little cafés. You know, where they got the lacy wrought iron balconies. Then you’ll reach across the table and feed each other little shrimp canapés and stuff like that.”
Pop’s voice had moved from surprise, to annoyance, and now to raw hostility. It had not taken long. In the hallway, Jaris and Chelsea both leaned back slightly in fear.
“Lorenzo, I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Mom gasped. “This is an honor. I’ve been chosen to make a contribution to the language arts programs throughout the country. I thought you’d be proud of me. Now you’re turning this honor into some sleazy romantic getaway. For crying out loud, it’s an educational convention!”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Pop crowed. “But you gotta get away from all that boring talk about kiddie lit. Gotta just clear your heads. Maybe you’ll want to take a lazy trip down the Mississippi, maybe in the moonlight. You could take one of those sternwheelers they got there, with guys standing on deck playing beautiful music. Oh that’ll be nice. That’ll be beautiful, Monie.”
“I don’t want to continue this ridiculous conversation,” Mom announced. “If you are going to be childish about this, I’m just very disappointed. I didn’t realize how immature you were. I thought you’d be proud of me. I was chosen over thirty nine other teachers—excellent teachers—to represent the district. We were all nominated by our principals for being the most outstanding teachers in a school, and I won. I should think you’d be congratulating me. Instead, you’re carrying on like a child, like a jealous child.”
“Yeah baby, I’m proud as punch,” Pop growled. “Hey, it’s like maybe I been chosen among all the other grease monkeys in town to go down to the car show. I get to hang with those babes in bikinis. Then like we’ll all rendezvous down at the beach, the grease monkeys and the babes. We’ll roast weenies and cavort around. Maybe swivel our hips dancin’. Now wouldn’t that make you proud and happy, babe?”
“Lorenzo Spain, that is disgusting and insulting,” Mom screamed. “I cannot believe you would sink so low. You’re comparing an important educational convention with some beach party!”
Jaris leaned against the frame of his bedroom door, his forehead pressing into the wood. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh brother!” he moaned. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Chelsea. Her eyes were so wide they looked like dinner plates.