Book Read Free

Solo

Page 6

by Kwame Alexander

for air, he waves

  like everything’s cool.

  And a hundred

  kids snap

  pictures

  to post

  anywhere and everywhere.

  After he finishes signing autographs

  the limo takes

  the giddy groupies away.

  What are you doing here?

  He holds up two fingers.

  Well, son, see, that’s the thing.

  One: it’s too cold in Denver.

  Two: the rehab food was leftover prison grub. I think they

  tried to poison me.

  But don’t worry, I have everything under control. They said

  I was doing fantastic.

  . . . .

  Blade . . . Blade. He stumbles around,

  grabs

  for my shoulder

  so he can balance

  his wasted

  soul.

  Blade. Listen to me, son. I’m not gonna miss your sister’s

  big party. It’s going to be vicious.

  The party’s over. You’re high. This is insane.

  Insane in the membrane, he says, strolling into the house

  just in time for Storm

  to come running

  down the stairs

  crying

  a river

  and pouring

  the whole sordid mess

  out for him

  to drink.

  Erase Me

  He pushes me

  up against the wall

  because I didn’t defend

  her honor

  against Van DeWish,

  who he says

  should have met your DeFIST!

  I cleared the party.

  Cleared the party? We’re Morrisons, we don’t clear parties.

  We rock parties, and we knock the blocks off of any joker

  who messes with us. What kind of weakling doesn’t protect

  his sister? You better wake up. The world ain’t sugarcoated!

  It’s real out here. And if you wanna survive it, you better

  learn to PULL THE TRIGGER! We don’t mess around.

  Yeah, and we don’t quote from a comic book movie

  either, is what I want to say, but he’s lit, and he’s not

  listening to anyone but himself anyway.

  Why didn’t you show up?

  Show up? Show Up!

  You haven’t shown up

  in my life

  since I can remember.

  What do you know

  about showing up?

  These are things

  I want to say

  to him, but

  all that comes out is

  I’m tired of fighting.

  Have you forgotten

  how many times

  I’ve defended

  our name

  with punches

  and body slams?

  He comes back with

  You’re not made

  of rough edges

  like the rest of us.

  You’re soft

  and you’ve become selfish.

  It’s all about Blade now, isn’t it?

  You’re wasted talent.

  I peel myself

  off the wall,

  start to walk away,

  but I just can’t let this go.

  You want to talk about selfish.

  How about all the masses

  of women you parade

  around with no care

  or respect.

  Or your stupid addiction

  to anything and everything

  that kills reality.

  Weak? Weak is YOU

  not being strong enough

  to say no.

  I’m not the loser here.

  As for being made like you,

  you’re right, I’M. NOT. LIKE. YOU!

  I want nothing more

  than to wipe this Morrison stench

  from my body.

  Clean its muddy glum

  from my existence.

  I’m not like

  any of you.

  Family Secret

  You have no idea

  how right you are, Storm says, getting in my face.

  Storm, be quiet, Rutherford says.

  No, Dad, I’m sick of his holier-than-thou-we’re-all-bad-and-

  he’s-a-saint attitude.

  He benefits from our lifestyle, and pisses on us.

  Storm, I’ve told you, THAT’S ENOUGH!

  It’s not enough. Does he even know you got arrested for

  almost knocking Chapel’s father’s lights out?

  What are you talking about?

  Yeah, I figured as much. You think everybody’s against

  you, but Dad told him that you could date whomever you

  wanted and that he better not ever threaten you again.

  Storm, this isn’t necessary.

  Yes, it is, Dad.

  You’re the reason Dad had to go to spend the weekend in

  jail. Or what about the time you took Dad’s car for a spin

  and got yourself arrested ’cause you didn’t have a license?

  Who do you think got you off?

  Well, thank you for doing what fathers are supposed to

  do.

  You ungrateful little—

  You’re right, you aren’t like any of us, Storm yells.

  AGREED!

  You ever wonder why

  you’re a shade darker

  than everybody in this family?

  Why your hair is curly and ours isn’t.

  Why you play that soft stuff,

  and we’re Hard Rockers?

  STORM! Rutherford screams. Don’t listen to her, Blade.

  You don’t want to be a Morrison, little brother? Well, here’s

  the kicker, you’re not. You never were one of us, and you

  never will be . . . You’re adopted!

  White Noise

  I storm

  out the door

  buried

  in silence

  as if music itself

  has died.

  Be careful

  what you ask for.

  I get in the car and drive

  like a mannequin

  vacant and numb

  to the bone.

  I call her number

  five times. And again.

  No answer. Just her voice

  saying, You’ve reached Chapel.

  Sorry I missed you.

  Leave me a confession.

  I drive a little too fast

  down Topanga Canyon

  wishing my car

  could turn

  into a boat

  and float

  across the Pacific.

  My phone lights up

  dozens of times.

  Missed calls from

  Storm

  Rutherford

  Storm

  Rutherford

  Storm

  Rutherford

  Storm

  Storm

  Storm . . .

  nothing from Chapel.

  Text from Chapel

  10:52 pm

  Sorry, Blade. I’ve

  been at church all night for

  revival. What’s up?

  Texts from Storm

  11:01 pm

  I know you’re pissed. I

  shouldn’t have kirked off like that.

  You’re STILL my brother.

  11:35 pm

  I’m sorry. Please answer

  your phone. Or call us back. Dad’s

  really worried, Blade.

  12:16 am

  Blade, it’s been 2 hours.

  Where r u? Please don’t

  do something stupid.

  Text from Rutherford

  12:22 am

  We may not be blood, but we

  are family. Sister Sledge

  ’til the end. Come home!

  Texts fr
om Chapel

  1:00 am

  Blade, call me

  so we can talk

  about what happened.

  1:00 am

  Storm called me,

  told me everything.

  And that you

  1:01 am

  freaked out a little.

  I would

  too.

  1:01 am

  Come on, babe.

  We need to talk.

  You shouldn’t be alone.

  1:01 am

  I’m getting sad

  and could use

  one of your hugs

  1:01 am

  an arm scratch

  and a back rub.

  A sweet song?

  Under the Cherry Moon

  Too shaken up

  to drive,

  I call a taxi,

  which drops me off

  a block from

  her house,

  in front of

  blind, old Mrs. Burns,

  who hasn’t been seen

  since 1997.

  I ninja walk

  down Chapel’s street

  where everyone is asleep

  where every light is out

  except for the one

  in her bedroom

  flickering

  like a lightning bug.

  Her shadow floats

  across the room,

  a signal

  that she’s still awake

  and can save

  my life.

  Text to Chapel

  1:17 am

  I’m out front.

  Basement window in three minutes.

  Make sure they’re asleep.

  When the Levee Breaks

  When I get

  to the backyard

  she’s already outside

  waiting to hug me

  like she’s never

  letting go.

  She cradles

  my face

  in her chest.

  And for the first time

  since the bomb dropped

  I can’t keep it together.

  A geyser

  of tears

  explodes

  and the weight

  of my sad, sad world

  bursts forth,

  floods my vision.

  Conversation

  They didn’t love me.

  They gave me away

  like a donation

  to Goodwill.

  Don’t say that.

  I never felt like a Morrison.

  Now I know why.

  Stop it. You are loved, Blade.

  Am I?

  Before

  The sky beams

  as I search

  for comfort.

  She wraps

  her arms around

  my waist.

  We hug so tight,

  the Milky Way spins

  on our axis.

  Our kiss

  could save

  a planet.

  This is where I want to be.

  This is where I need to be.

  Swaying softly

  together

  toward the stars.

  Until . . .

  An earthquake

  thunders toward us

  with an anger

  so fierce

  it’d make ten thousand

  horses fall

  and never get up.

  Chapel’s father is

  a 6.5 on the Richter.

  He stomps up to me

  in an ominous black robe

  and practically moves

  the ground beneath

  us.

  THIS. IS. IT. he roars.

  And he tears us

  completely

  apart.

  Aftershock

  The one time

  I did go to church

  I don’t remember

  the preacher

  dropping bombs

  like Chapel’s pastor father does

  when he tells me to

  GET THE—

  Taking a Stand

  Sir, I have been underwater

  my entire life.

  Your daughter pulls me up,

  gives me new breath,

  strange and familiar

  this is all I know now.

  This is where I want to be,

  between the moon

  and her gaze,

  inside her arms

  carefully inhaling

  tomorrow,

  is what I want to say.

  What I actually say is:

  SIR, I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER!

  Devastation

  Chapel doesn’t say, I love him too,

  but I know she feels it,

  as she squeezes

  my hand so tight

  the blood

  hurries.

  And the volcano

  in his eyes

  is ready to erupt.

  If her mom

  wasn’t holding

  his arm,

  he’d quickly abandon

  his religion.

  You can try to break us up, but

  you can’t break our bond.

  You can try to keep us apart now,

  but when we go to college next month,

  we’ll be together, I say, standing up

  like I should have done

  to Van DeWish.

  That so? he answers. You love her? I bet you’re a drunk like

  your father.

  I get in his face.

  What, are you going to hit me, like your father did? Like

  thug, like son. We will see how strong your bond is three

  thousand miles apart.

  What are you talking about? Chapel screams.

  This won’t continue on my dime. You’re going to

  community college. Right here in LA.

  Mom, that’s not fair.

  Life’s not fair, young lady. Get used to it. And, son, if I

  were you I’d get off my property before I call the police.

  NOW, he screams, like I’m a

  common criminal

  whose only crime is

  being in love

  and alone.

  Shelter

  I sit under an

  enormous palm tree,

  a block away

  from Chapel’s house

  in the pitch dark,

  wishing I had

  my guitar

  to write

  a song

  about the second-worst

  day of my life

  about the shattered glass

  that is my life

  about the tiny shards

  cutting into

  Blade.

  The City of Palms

  I have taken for granted

  the palm trees in Cali

  brought in

  from somewhere else

  planted by Spanish missionaries

  in the 18th century.

  We have something

  in common.

  They don’t belong here.

  And neither do I.

  Yet they stand.

  How will I?

  On the taxi ride home

  I think

  about the things

  I should have said

  to him

  and wonder

  if I’ll ever

  see her

  again.

  Maybe I’ve been crying

  too much

  or thinking

  too much about

  drinking this bottle

  of Malibu

  I took from

  Rutherford,

  but I don’t want to

  end up

  like him,

  especially since

  I’m not

  his.

  When we get

  to the bridge,

  for a split second

  I imagine

  leaping over


  and falling to

  the bottom

  and never being found

  or heard from

  or seen again.

  Would it matter

  if I were gone?

  Who would care

  about this son of

  no one?

  Change of plans, I say to the driver. Take me to Santa

  Monica, please.

  Perspective

  I watch Robert

  hold a small

  audience captive

  with “Mean Old World,”

  which ain’t nothing

  but the truth

  for me

  right now.

  I nod at him.

  He smiles, and

  after he’s done playing,

  waves me over.

  Where’s your other half? he asks.

  I’m overwhelmed, Robert.

  With gloom. She’s gone, like

  ashes over bridge.

  He wipes down

  his trumpet

  and shakes

  his head.

  You weren’t ready for her or she wasn’t ready for you?

  Her father wasn’t ready for us. He ended it.

  Put yourself in his shoes, what would you have done?

  I’d trust my kid to know what was good for her. It sucks.

  Sorry, Youngblood.

  There’s something else.

  I know. Written all over your face.

  I don’t even know how to say it.

  Spoonful at a time.

  Turns out, I’m adopted.

  It’s like a freight train runnin’ up all through your life.

  It sucks.

  That’s one way of looking at it.

  THAT’S THE ONLY WAY.

  Some people don’t even get one parent, you got four.

  Yeah, but two of ’em gave me away, one of ’em doesn’t

  care about me, and one of ’em’s dead.

  If the blues was cash, you’d be the richest Youngblood in

  town, he says, laughing.

  Not the time for jokes, Robert. This isn’t funny.

  I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro once, he answers.

  Huh?

  Yep, with a friend. It took seven days.

  Okay! Thanks for sharing.

  Life is a mountain, Youngblood. Nobody said the climb

  was gonna be easy.

  You gotta choose your route.

  Get your gear.

  Breathe.

  Clear your mind.

  And enjoy the journey.

  Robert, what are you talking about?

  Perhaps you need a break from the Angels. Get outta LA,

  get some perspective. You understand?

  . . . .

  Give her father some time, he might come around.

 

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