by Earl Sewell
KEYSHA
Saturday, November 3rd
Yesterday, when Wesley said that he and his dad would be moving I felt as if he was holding my head underwater against my will. I couldn’t breathe and I gasped for air.
“Keysha? Are you okay?” he asked as he patted my back. “Are you choking on something?”
“No. I just need to get inside the house and sit down,” I said as I caught his gaze for a moment. After seeing the concern in his eyes, I said, “Let’s go. I’ll be okay.” Wesley walked me the rest of the way home and when we arrived I invited him inside. Wesley sat on the sofa in the family room while I went to get us both a soda from the kitchen.
“Where are the folks?” he asked.
“Barbara’s at a board meeting, Jordan’s at a sales conference and Mike is at his football game. It’s okay. No one will be home for a while,” I said reassuring him.
“Okay, cool,” he said as he tried to relax a little.
“You know, you can’t leave!” I said as I filled his glass with ice cubes and a Pepsi drink trying to keep the panic from my voice.
“I don’t have a choice, Keysha. I wish that I didn’t have to leave but there is just nothing I can do.”
“Where are you and you dad moving to?” I asked as I handed him his drink. When he didn’t answer right away, I moved over to the stereo and turned it on. I needed to play some music in order to lighten the tension in the room.
“You don’t want to know,” Wesley answered as he took a sip of his drink.
“Come on, tell me. I can handle it,” I said as I inhaled deeply.
“Indianapolis, Indiana,” Wesley answered.
“Indianapolis—that’s like two hours away from here. How are we going to see each other?” I snapped.
“I don’t know, Keysha. My dad and I are going to live with my grandmother until the house is fixed and he’s healed.”
“Well,” I paused in thought for a moment. “You guys can’t move that far away. What about follow-up visits to his doctor? What are you guys going to do about that?”
“The hospital has recommended a burn specialist down in Indianapolis. They’ve already begun duplicating my dad’s medical records so that we can take them with us.”
“When are you leaving?” I said, feeling my throat begin to close with emotion.
Wesley stood up and walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He then began lightly stroking my right cheek to comfort me. “We’ll be leaving in about a week,” he said softly.
“What about school? You just came back and you’re just starting to turn your grades around. Did your dad consider that the move might set you back?” I asked.
“I promised him that I wouldn’t mess up again. I promised him that I’d stay focused on what I needed to do and not fall behind again at my new school.”
“This isn’t fair!” I cried stepping away from him.
“Keysha.” Wesley stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the side of my neck. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Wesley whispered in my ear. He turned me around to face him. “You know that I can’t breathe without you.” Wesley tilted my chin up and gazed deeply into my eyes. I felt goose bumps rise up on my skin.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked even though the answer to my question was shining brightly in his eyes. Wesley craned his neck and paused just before kissing me. His kiss once again made me feel weak and I melted like butter on a warm stove.
“Ooh,” I cooed as I pulled myself away from him. “This could lead to trouble,” I warned him.
“Trouble? I’m not afraid of trouble. I believe that I’ve proven that to you already,” Wesley said as he kissed me once again. And he was right. Wesley helped prove Liz Lloyd planted drugs in my locker, and now she was in jail, instead of me. I surrendered to his second kiss and listened as our breathing patterns synchronized.
“You know what I mean,” I finally said breaking away from him once again. “This could lead to other things that could—”
“Shh,” he said. “Don’t think right now. Let’s have this moment with each other because it may be a long time before we get another chance to have a moment like this. All I want to do is hold you, dance with you and feel your heart close to mine.”
“How do you do that?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“You have a way with words, Wesley. You’re poetic.” I smiled.
“I write poetry from time to time. I even wrote a poem about you once. But I was just being goofy,” he confessed.
“You wrote a poem about me and you haven’t let me read it? What’s up with that?” I asked feeling almost betrayed that he had a part of him that he hadn’t shared with me.
“It’s nothing really. I was just writing down some of my thoughts.” Wesley laughed a little.
“I want to read it,” I said, sweeping my thumb lightly across his bottom lip. “Will you let me read some of your writing?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” Wesley uttered as his bottom lip quivered a little.
That was the first time that I’d ever seen a boy’s lip do that. I looked into Wesley’s eyes once again and saw the desire that had flooded them. And I wanted him, too. It was at that moment I realized that Wesley and I were slowly seducing each other with tender love and that frightened me because it was all too easy for me to submit to him. “You should go, Wesley,” I said reluctantly stepping away from him.
“What?” I could hear the disappointment and edginess in his voice. I knew that I’d gotten him excited and hot.
“I think you should go,” I said, my tone uncertain to my own ears. Wesley picked up on my uneasiness.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” I assured him.
“Then what is it?” He pressed. I didn’t blame him for wanting to know why I’d suddenly done a 180-degree turn on him.
“I forgot that Jordan said he may be coming home early,” I lied.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me the truth, Keysha?” Wesley asked.
“It is the truth. Jordan could come home at any moment and although he likes you, he’s not going to be too thrilled with the idea of us being all alone. Plus, I’m starting to itch again,” I added.
“Oh,” Wesley answered. “By the way, I’m not trying to put any pressure or anything on you, Keysha. I was just going with the flow of the moment.”
“I understand,” I said, happy to see that I’d successfully changed the direction we were headed in. I took Wesley by the hand and walked him to door.
“Call me when you get home,” I said as I held the door open for him.
“Okay.” He paused before stepping out into the cold. “Look, it’s snowing,” he said. I glanced outside and saw snowflakes billowing down from the heavens. “It always looks so pretty when it first falls,” I said wistfully.
“I hate snow,” Wesley whined. “I hate having to shovel it and I hate having to walk to school in it because it gets in my shoes, wets up my socks and turns my toes into mini popsicles.”
“It’s not snowing that hard,” I said and then thought about Wesley’s ability to keep warm on a cold night like the one that was ahead of us.
“Are you keeping warm in that cold house of yours?” I asked suddenly feeling bad for putting him out.
“My space heater does a good job, but I will not be sleeping in the house tonight because my grandmother is here and she’s gotten a hotel room for us. She’s at the hospital now. I’m going to stop by my house for a moment and pack some clothes before calling her to come pick me up. Hey, do you want to come back to my house for a little while? You could help me pack and meet my grandmother when she arrives.”
“Not this time, Wesley. Maybe next time.” I said as I smiled at him. Wesley smiled back and then turned to head home. I closed the door and exhaled loudly. I was relieved and proud of myself for not acting on my impulses.
four
MIKE
Sunday, November 4th
“Mike,” I heard my mother call out my name from the bottom of the staircase. I was in my bed barely awake. I was hoping that she didn’t really want or need me for anything. “Mike!” she yelled out my name again, this time with more authority.
“Yeah,” I responded, still feeling very groggy.
“Get up and get dressed for church,” she commanded.
“Mom, I’m still tired from yesterday’s game. Can’t I just sleep in this morning?” I complained.
“No! Get up and get dressed,” she said.
I grumbled and turned over deciding that I needed to sleep for a few more minutes. My bed was so comfortable and warm. The last thing I wanted to do was throw back the covers and feel a rush of cool air.
“Mike!” I heard my mother call out my name once again.
“Yeah,” I answered her.
“Are you up?”
“Yeah, I’m up,” I said.
“No, you’re not. You’re still in the bed. Now, get up! I woke you up a half hour ago. Now get out of that bed and let me hear some water running!”
“Okay,” I said as I tossed back the covers, placed my bare feet on the cold floor and walked toward the bathroom. I turned on the faucet so that she knew I was actually up.
“Dang, it’s cold,” I grumbled as I tried to rub away the goose bumps on my skin. I shuffled over to the bathroom window and glanced outside, noticing that there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. I then turned on the heat lamp to help warm up the bathroom. I grabbed a towel from the linen cabinet and was about to wash my face but couldn’t because the countertop was covered with Keysha’s skin-and hair-care products.
“This girl gets on my nerves,” I said angrily. “Keysha!” I shouted out her name as I stepped out of the bathroom and marched toward her room. Her door was closed. I didn’t bother to knock. I just opened the door because I was irritated.
“Girl, get in there and clean up that mess you left in the bathroom!” I snapped at her.
“Who in the world do you think you’re yelling at?” Keysha barked back at me. “And how dare you fling my door open without knocking.” She was fully dressed for church and sitting on the edge of her bed with her cellular phone glued to her ear.
“Get off the phone and handle that mess you left in the bathroom.” I pointed my finger toward the direction of the bathroom.
“Wesley, let me call you back in a minute,” Keysha said and then hung up the phone. “First of all, you need to get your attitude in order. You don’t be coming up in here acting like you all big and bad, Mike.”
“Just go and do what I told you to do,” I said, asserting my masculinity. “I’m tired of you hogging up all the countertop space. Now, go handle that mess so I can do what I need to do.”
“I don’t have to do anything except stay black and die!” Keysha folded her arms across her chest and refused to move.
“Oh, you want to fight with me? You’d better think about that first.” I warned her. “And what the heck is wrong with your skin? Why does it look like you have some kind of disease?”
“Shut up! I don’t have a disease. I’m just having an allergic reaction to something. Barbara has already scheduled an appointment with a doctor for me.”
“Barbara has already scheduled an appointment with the doctor for me.” I mocked. I was weary of her relationship with my mother. “Well whatever you have, keep your fleas to yourself! Now go do what I told you,” I barked at her.
“Boy! You’re not tough. You may be more muscular but underneath all of that, you’re still a wimp who’ll start crying for your mama at the first sign of danger. So go on. Call Jordan or Barbara so they can come to your rescue before I beat you down.”
Keysha trapped my gaze. I couldn’t believe that she knew that my next move was to call my mother to come and handle her. “Go on, little boy. Call for yo mama.” Keysha continued to antagonize me.
“I’m not a little boy. I’m a man and I don’t need my mother to fight my battles for me. Now either you get in there and clean that mess up or you and I are going to make some furniture move up in here and I don’t care what the consequences are!” I threatened through clenched teeth. At any moment I was ready to do anything to wipe the snug look off her face.
Keysha searched my eyes and saw that I was dead serious about what I’d said. “Okay,” Keysha said softly as she bowed to my will. She headed toward the bathroom but I was blocking her path. “Are you going to move so that I can go take care of that? Big Mike?”
I liked the sound of that. “Big Mike.” It seemed to fit with how I felt. I was about to turn fifteen and feeling more like a man than I’d ever felt before. I stepped aside and allowed her to pass. I turned and watched Keysha as she entered our shared bathroom and cleaned up the mess she’d left.
Once she was done, she exited the bathroom and said, “You can get in there now, Big Mike,” and then walked down the stairs.
“Good,” I said as I entered the bathroom so that I could prepare for church.
After I’d taken a hot shower, the bathroom was filled with warm white steam. I stepped over to the mirror, took a dry cloth, placed it against the mirror and moved my hand in a circular motion wiping away the mist so that I could see myself.
Keysha was right, I thought to myself. I’d put on about fifteen pounds of extra muscle. My triceps and biceps were noticeably bigger. My abs looked as if they’d been chiseled from stone, and my chest and shoulders were broader and bulkier. I raised my arms up, curled my fingers into fists and flexed my biceps as tightly as I could.
“Yeah,” I growled at my reflection enjoying the intensity of my might and muscular power. “If I had a few tattoos, the girls would be all over this.” I drummed my right fist against my chest a few times. I turned on a small radio that was in the bathroom and smiled at myself feeling a newfound confidence. I finished up in the bathroom, got dressed and then headed downstairs just as everyone was about to leave.
“What’s up, Jordan?” I said to my father as I entered the room.
“You’re lucky that I didn’t have to come upstairs to pull you out of the mirror, Mike.” My father wasn’t pleased that I’d taken so long to get dressed. For a moment I tried to figure out how he’d known that I was standing in front of the mirror admiring myself.
“I don’t feel like going to church anyway. I don’t see why I have to go,” I complained. “I’d really rather do something else with my time.”
“Well you’re going whether you like it or not, mister!” Jordan snapped at me.
“What?” I glared at him. I suddenly felt like it was national pick-on-Mike day.
“Get your attitude in check, boy!” Jordan was all over me and I didn’t understand why.
“Jesus, have a coronary, why don’t you,” I mumbled beneath my breath.
“You have something to say Mike?” Jordan’s voice was filled with confrontation.
“No,” I answered as I walked past him. I headed out the door and toward the garage so that I could get in the car, plug up my iPod and tune everyone out. I was tired of everyone riding my back for the littlest things. I swear, ever since Keysha arrived, I was treated like the stepchild instead of her. At first, my Mom was on my side and was just as suspicious of Keysha as I was, but then she flipped the script on me, befriended her and turned against me. Suddenly, Keysha could do no wrong in her eyes. Now, my dad, Jordan, was all over me for the smallest things. I felt as if he was searching for any reason to chew me out. He hadn’t said or even asked me about how I did at the football game. One of these days, he’s going to push me too hard and it’s going to be on.
I got in the car, put my seat belt on, jacked in my iPod player and slumped down in the seat. I stared out the window as we drove out of the driveway down the street. A lot of time had passed since my parents and I had been to church. In fact, now that I think about it, the last time we went was just before Keysha came to live with u
s. Before that she lived briefly in a group home when her mom wound up behind bars. I didn’t mind going to church when it was just mom, my dad and me. Now it was different, especially with Keysha tagging along.
I knew the moment we’d entered the church people who’d heard and read about all of the drama with Keysha’s court case would start asking questions about the details and how the family had beaten the case. Keysha would without a doubt garner all of the attention and that fact alone irked me.
When we arrived at church, Jordan let us out at the door and then went to park the car. I was grooving to my music as I walked into the church lobby. Then out of nowhere, my mom pinched and twisted my skin.
“Ouch!” I shouted. “What did you do that for?” I hollered at her. My mom gave me an evil look.
“Turn off the iPod music while you’re in church. What’s gotten into you lately?” She glared at me as if she didn’t know me.
I huffed, sighed and then cut my eyes at her. “Nothing,” I said as I turned off my music, pulled out my earplugs and wrapped the wires around the iPod player. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stood still. That seemed to be the only thing I could do without getting into trouble.
“Why are you all twisted?” Keysha asked me.
“Mind your own business, itchy,” I snarled.
“You must be on your period!” she laughed at me, then turned toward Barbara who had struck up a conversation with one of the church trustees. Keysha stood at her side and waited to be introduced. My mom finally draped her arm around her and introduced her as her daughter.
“Whatever,” I uttered disapprovingly. I was about to just go and grab a seat but I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw Sabrina Collins, a girl that I knew from both church and school. Sabrina and I were the same age although she was older than me by a few months. I’d always known her as a chubby tomboy with a goofy smile, unruly hair that needed a perm, braces, thick eyeglasses and bad skin. But Sabrina looked nothing like she did when I last saw her. She seemed to have blossomed overnight. Her braces had been removed and her skin had definitely cleared up. She’d gotten a perm and her hair was styled asymmetrically the way Rihanna the singer likes to wear her hair. Sabrina had full cheeks, a round face and a body that had a lot of sexy curves from what I could tell through her church clothes.
