Sereeta was waiting in the front yard of her grandmother’s house. She ran to Jaris’s car and got in.
“Thank you so much, Jaris,” she sighed in a small, hurt voice. “I didn’t even tell Grandma what was going on. She doesn’t like Mom anyway. She never did. Since Mom divorced her son, she’s almost hated her. Oh Jaris!” Sereeta began to cry.
“It’s okay, babe,” Jaris assured her. “We’ll be downtown in no time.”
“She’s at the Green Hornet Café on Main Street,” Sereeta told him.
“Yeah, I know where that is,” Jaris nodded. “It’s near the civic center where the Purple Rave Rappers came last spring. Me and Trevor caught that.”
“Perry, my stepfather, he’s out of town,” Sereeta explained. “He’s been on a business trip. She gets so lonely that she starts drinking.”
“Where’s Jake?” Jaris asked. Jake was the baby son of Olivia and Perry Manley. He was Sereeta’s stepbrother.
“The baby is almost living full-time with a nanny. Mom has less and less to do with Jake,” Sereeta answered.
“We’ll be there in no time,” Jaris declared. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like for Sereeta. His heart ached for her. Jaris was so proud of his parents. Pop was a strong, dependable man, and Mom was a highly respected teacher in the community. Jaris shuddered to think of how Sereeta was feeling. What was it like to get a phone call that your mother is drunk in a bar? How must it feel to think your mom might be arrested for public drunkenness?
Jaris pulled into the parking lot behind the Green Hornet Café. Jaris and Sereeta went in together, and they spotted Olivia Manley over in a corner booth. She was resting her head in her hands, her elbows on the table. Sereeta went to her mother. Jaris went over to the manager, who had watched them come in.
“Hey man,” Jaris told him, “we’re picking up her mom right now.” He nodded toward Mrs. Manley in the booth.
“Good,” the manager responded. “We offered to call a cab for her, but she said she had no money left. She wasn’t even sure where she lived. She came in here, and we served her a few drinks. Then she struck up a conversation with some guy. He gave her some of his drinks, and then she got smashed. I think she was drinking before she got here.”
The manager seemed sympathetic. “Anyway,” he went on, “the other guy—the louse—he took off. We dunno. Then she wanted more to drink and got a little nasty with the waitress. Things got loud for a while. We couldn’t get her to leave. We thought we might have to call the cops. Lucky she had her daughter’s cell number programmed into her phone. She made the call and then just put her head down and conked out.”
The manager nodded over to the booth as he spoke. “It’s too bad,” he remarked, “a pretty, nicely dressed woman like that.”
“We owe you anything, man?” Jaris asked.
“Nope,” the manager replied. “She paid as she went. She just ran outta cash. Claims she lost her purse. . . . Well, good luck to you and your girlfriend.”
By the time Jaris walked over to the booth, Olivia Manley was standing, though she leaned on Sereeta’s arm. “I do not know what is going on here,” the woman declared. She struggled to speak clearly, without slurring. “Everything was going perfectly well when my purse was stolen. I would like to know who . . . who took my purse.”
Sereeta put her arm around her mother. “We’re going home, Mom,” she spoke softly to her. “I have your purse. It was under the table. Now we’re taking you home.”
“Mrs. Manley,” Jaris asked, “is your car in the lot?”
The woman stared at Jaris and blinked a couple of times. She was trying to remember how she got to the café.
“I took the trolley here,” Mrs. Manley finally replied. “It was all going perfectly well.” The woman swung her gaze to her daughter. “I insist on knowing what . . . what happened.”
With help from her daughter and Jaris, Sereeta’s mother made it to Jaris’s car and got into the back seat. Sereeta buckled her in and sat in the back with her.
“Perry’s gone, you know. He suddenly upped and left,” Mrs. Manley stated. “I would like to know why.”
“He’s on a business trip, Mom,” Sereeta explained.
“A business trip indeed! That’s a likely story!” she scoffed. “He’s been gone for weeks.”
“No Mom, just a couple days,” Sereeta insisted. “He’ll be home soon, maybe tonight.”
As they drove, Sereeta told Jaris, “Just drop me off at Mom’s house. I’ll stay with her until Perry gets back.”
“Sereeta, when he gets home, call me,” Jaris instructed her. “And I’ll take you home to your grandmother’s house. If I’m at the Chicken Shack, I’ll quit early. Neal’s good about stuff like that.”
“You’ve done enough for me, Jaris,” Sereeta insisted.
“Please call me when Perry gets home,” Jaris repeated. “If it’s early, we can hang for a while, Sereeta, and just unwind. I need to be with you tonight for a little while if it’s possible, babe. I think you need to be with me too.”
“Okay,” Sereeta responded in a hushed voice. “Jaris, you’re wonderful.”
“No, I’m not,” Jaris objected. “I just love you, babe.”
“Me too,” Sereeta whispered, but Jaris heard her.
Jaris pulled into the driveway of the Manley home. Sereeta had lived there with her mother and stepfather before she moved to her grandmother’s. Jaris and Sereeta helped her mother out of the car and into the house. She kept protesting that she didn’t need any help before flopping heavily into a reclining chair.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Jaris asked Sereeta.
“Yeah, fine,” Sereeta assured him.
“And you’ll call me, promise?” Jaris asked.
Jaris took his girl into his arms and kissed her.
Sereeta nodded yes. “I promise,” Sereeta told him.
Mrs. Manley sat in the chair, watching the two of them. Her almost seventeen-year-old daughter was in the living room, kissing a handsome boy. “Sereeta,” she exclaimed in a thick voice. “I didn’ know you had a boyfrien’. Since when . . . when did you have a boyfrien’?”
“See you later, babe,” Jaris whispered to her, and he left.
Jaris felt terrible down to his bones. He drove to the Chicken Shack for his shift, but he had really wanted to stay with Sereeta. Still, he couldn’t have done much good. No doubt, when Perry Manley got home, there would be an argument, perhaps an ugly fight. Sereeta didn’t want Jaris to see that. She was humiliated enough.
Jaris loved Sereeta so much, and her mother’s drinking was tearing her apart. One day the woman was sober and pleasant; the next day she had drunk herself into a stupor. Last year, Sereeta, her friends, and their mothers had arranged to give Olivia Manley a beautiful birthday party. Sereeta’s mother was too drunk to come. But then on the trip to San Francisco, she was fine. Sereeta felt as though she was living on a roller coaster. Sereeta’s mother kept promising to get help, but instead she was spiraling deeper and deeper into an abyss.
Trevor Jenkins was already working at the Chicken Shack when Jaris got there. Trevor was just about Jaris’s closest friend. The two boys would do anything for each other. Trevor’s dad had long ago abandoned the family. Since then, his mother had raised him and three older boys alone by working long hours as a nurse’s aide.
“Man,” Trevor commented to Jaris, “you look like you just got run over by a big rig.”
Jaris slipped on his yellow and white Chicken Shack shirt and joined Trevor at the counter. “Sereeta’s mom got sick downtown, and we had to go pick her up,” he explained grimly. “It’s tearing Sereeta apart.”
Trevor shook his head. “I feel for you, man,” he sympathized.
“I want to help Sereeta, but what can I do?” Jaris said.
“With us it was easier,” Trevor remarked. “When Pa was drunk all the time, Ma threw him out. She’s tough. She cut off all contact with him. She raised us clean. Any one of us had turned to booze, she woulda beat the living daylights outta us. That sucka woulda had a long sleep. It’s bad with Sereeta that it’s up and down like that.”
“Sereeta still loves her mom,” Jaris commented. “She can’t just forget about her. Most of the time Sereeta’s mom doesn’t even seem to care if her daughter’s on earth. Now she’s doing the same thing with the baby—Jake. But Sereeta’s clinging to the idea of a fantasy mom. You shoulda seen her tonight, dude. She was so embarrassed and worried, she looked sick.”
“I’m sorry, bro,” Trevor consoled his friend. “Booze is an awful, awful drug. Most people don’t see it like that. Most deadly auto wrecks, that’s booze at work. Most times when husbands kill their wives or girlfriends, they’re drunk. It’s a bad thing, Jaris.”
“Yeah,” Jaris agreed. “My pop used to drink a little too much when he’d get stressed. Then he went down to Pastor Bromley’s church, and he took the pledge to stop drinking. I was so proud of him for doing that. He just did it on the spur of the moment. It was to honor the memory of a young girl who was killed by a drunk driver. It’s made such a difference in our house. It’s so good for Mom and me and Chelsea. It’s like something was hanging over our heads, and now it’s gone.”
A couple of customers entered the store, and the two boys had to get to work.
Sereeta called Jaris about ten minutes before quitting time. Perry had arrived home. Finding his wife drunk, he had flown into a rage. The husband and wife were having a terrible argument, but at least Sereeta could go home.
Jaris quit a little early with his boss Neal’s okay. He headed for the Manley house to pick up Sereeta. She was standing in the driveway, waiting for him, and she got into the car quickly.
“You okay, babe?” Jaris asked.
“Yeah. They’re quiet now,” Sereeta answered. “Mom went to bed, and he’s watching TV. What a night!” She was shaking her head. “I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight, Jaris. My mom might be in jail right now.”
Jaris didn’t know what to say. He’d gone over all the options in his own mind. There was no good one. He might tell Sereeta that her mother was just a lost cause. He could urge her to forget about her mom. He could argue that Sereeta’s life shouldn’t be ruined like this. But that wouldn’t fly. You can’t stop loving somebody because it’s the smart thing to do. That’s not what love is about.
“Let’s stop for a mocha,” Jaris suggested.
“It won’t make you too late, will it?” Sereeta asked.
“No, we won’t be long,” Jaris responded. “I’ll be home at pretty much the regular time.”
They stopped at a little coffee shop and sat in a rear booth. It was a warm night. The hot summer sun had gone down, but the heavy humid air remained. The chilled mocha hit the spot.
“My little sister ran into this guy, Shadrach,” Jaris told his girl. “He rescues opossums. She and a friend are gonna volunteer at his rescue shelter.” Jaris was desperate to change the subject from what this terrible night was all about.
“Oh I’ve seen him,” Sereeta replied. “One night I was with my grandma, and he was by the side of the road scooping up a poor little wounded opossum. We didn’t know what was going on, and we stopped. He told us the opossum may not survive its injuries, but at least it would die comfortably without suffering. We were so touched. I think it’s wonderful for Chelsea to get involved in that. They’re only little wild things, but they have feelings too. Who’s to say they don’t have a claim on our mercy?”
Jaris was surprised that Sereeta didn’t mention anything about Shadrach’s startling physical appearance. That was the first thing most people noticed. But that was Sereeta. She had so much love and compassion in her that external things didn’t matter so much.
That was why Sereeta could see a mother who seemed hardly to care for her. And the girl could still focus on the heartbreaking truth that the woman was her mother.
That was why Sereeta could see her mother disheveled, slipping into spells of shameful drunkenness, and still love her.
That was why Sereeta could ignore Shadrach’s missing eye and facial scars. She could see only the compassion of a good man who wanted to stop suffering wherever he found it.
Jaris was overwhelmed with love and admiration for this girl. He wanted to put his arms around her and protect her from everything that might hurt her in any way. And he felt upset that he couldn’t protect her against what hurt her most of all.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking Ms. McDowell’s AP American History class when school starts, Sereeta. You’re taking it, aren’t you?” Jaris asked.
“Yeah,” Sereeta replied. “I took AP Calculus and that worked out. I like the idea of getting college credit while I’m still in high school. It’s like getting a jump on college.”
“Oliver and Alonee are taking it too,” Jaris added. “But you guys are all smarter than me. I’m getting cold feet.”
“Oh Jaris, you underestimate yourself. You’ll do fine,” Sereeta assured him. “Did you know Marko Lane is taking it too?”
“You gotta be kidding!” Jaris groaned. Marko Lane and his girlfriend, Jasmine Benson, made a hobby of disrupting classes at Tubman High, but they were afraid of Ms. McDowell. They didn’t dare mess with her.
“No, Marko’s pretty smart when he tries,” Sereeta stated. “He usually goofs off, but he’s determined to ace this class. Remember when he brought his father over to watch the race, and he was beaten? He thinks getting AP credit will give him something to make it up to his father and impress him.”
They finished their icy drinks and headed for Sereeta’s grandmother’s house. When they got there, Jaris came in for just a minute to say hello to Mrs. Prince.
“I been a little worried, girl,” Bessie Prince scolded. “You ain’t often this late.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I should’ve called,” Sereeta apologized.
Bessie Prince looked at Jaris and smiled. “I see you were in good hands, child,” she told her granddaughter. “This is a very fine boy. Mighty handsome too.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jaris said. He liked Bessie Prince. She was a good, down-to-earth, caring woman. She came from another generation when people were more willing to sacrifice.
“Sereeta has told me all about you, Jaris,” the older woman continued. “I met your mama, Monica Spain, at the grocery store the other day. She was so nice. She helped me load all my groceries in my car. I see where your kind ways come from, boy.”
Then the smile faded from the woman’s face, and she spoke to Sereeta. “Your mama at it again, eh, darlin’?”
Sereeta seemed taken aback. She didn’t think her grandmother knew anything about this latest incident.
“She called here, child,” Bessie Prince explained. “She had this number. I tol’ her you weren’t here. She got you on your cell phone, I suppose. She was in a bad way. The barkeep or somebody come on the phone. He say somebody better come get her pretty quick.”
Jaris and Sereeta exchanged a sad look.
“She got me, Grandma, and Jaris drove me down to pick her up,” Sereeta explained.
Bessie Prince looked at Jaris and spoke to him. “You need to talk some sense into this chil’, young fella. In this world there are such things as lost causes. You gotta look at ’em straight in the eye, and face the truth. Lordy, I tried with all my might to love Olivia Sanders when my son brought her around as his girlfriend. I could see right from the start that she’d be nothing but heartache for my boy. But there was no convincing him. She’s beautiful. She was beautiful anyway. Don’t know as to how she looks now. Booze takes its toll.”
Jaris looked at the old woman sympathetically. He knew she was going through the same pain he was. Somebody they both loved—Sereeta—was paying the price for Olivia Manley’s failures.
“This poor chil’ here,” Bessie Prince went on, “my only grandchild. I want for her to have a good life. I’m an old woman. The only light in my life right now is to think that this child will have a good life. Jaris Spain, you take care of her. Take care of my little Sereeta. Try to talk some sense into her. She ain’ got no mama. No way. No how. She need to stop chasing after a mirage. It looks like water shinin’ in the desert, but it’s not water at all. It’s a cruel hoax. Same with Sereeta’s mom. She’s no mama no more. Maybe she never was. Sereeta, she need to stop grabbing at the mirage. She’ll only find a handful of dust to break her heart.”
Sereeta stood there in the middle of the room, the tears running down her face. What her grandmother was saying rang true. Sereeta knew that, but it didn’t make any difference. There were times—brief, bright, even glorious times, like when Sereeta and her mother went to San Francisco. At those times, Olivia Manley was a wonderful mother again. Glimpses of what she had been and might be again kept Sereeta hoping. Her mother never sank into a perpetual state of alcohol stupor, as Trevor Jenkins’ father had. If she had, maybe Sereeta could have put her out of her life. But the normal interludes kept the girl’s hope alive.