Latter Rain

by Vanessa Miller

  “You already told me that he’s been skipping school.”

  She raised her hand as if he could see the motion. “Not just the school thing. He was praying today.”

  Isaac laughed. “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

  “Trust me on this, Isaac. Something’s going on.” She stood and paced the room. Her voice quivered when she added, “I feel it in my gut.”

  “Okay, Nina, calm down. Instead of waiting until next weekend to talk with Donavan, why don’t we do it on Tuesday?”

  “Donavan’s birthday is on Tuesday.”

  “Exactly. We’ll take him to dinner, maybe a movie, then we’ll sit down and talk this out.”

  Nina relaxed a bit. “Okay, I guess it can wait ’til Tuesday.”

  They finished making birthday plans, then hung up. Nina was getting ready to leave her bedroom when the phone rang again. She leaped on it, thinking maybe Isaac had changed his mind. Maybe he was going to stop in Dayton on his way home.

  “Hey, baby. Are you missing me as much as I’m missing you?”

  “Charles? Nina hadn’t missed him. She hadn’t had time to think about Charles for worrying about Donavan. Once she could get this thing with Donavan out of the way, she’d have more time to focus on her future husband. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t even noticed that you weren’t around.” She said it playfully, but it was the truth. That bothered her. It also bothered her that she was okay with Charles not participating in Donavan’s birthday celebration. Another point to ponder.

  “Ha ha, you’re just too funny. Anyway, I called to tell you that I might be able to come over on Tuesday for Donavan’s birthday.”

  Her eyes bucked, panic caused her heart to race. Isaac and Charles in the same room? “B-but I thought you said we wouldn’t be able to see each other for awhile.”

  “That was before that animal beat his girlfriend bloody, black and blue.”

  Her hand covered her mouth as she gasped. “Oh, my God.”

  “Oh, my God is right, Nina. This girl might not make it through the night. I don’t even want to tell you all that animal did to her.” He sighed. “At least the judge won’t approve bail when he gets arrested this time.”

  When Nina hung up the phone, she put her problems on the back burner and prayed for the battered girl Charles told her about. If nothing else, Nina knew that prayer could change things. So, she prayed that the girl would live, be healthy, give her life to Christ and leave the Mickeys of this world alone for good. She prayed all of that in Jesus mighty name.

  Blurry vision was bad, real bad on the highway. Coffee. Isaac hated the aftertaste, but if it would keep him alive, he’d endure it. While pumping himself full of caffeine in the gas station/restaurant, Isaac saw a little boy who looked a lot like Donavan. His mom was petite with short hair like Nina’s. But the guy who grabbed hold of the boy’s hand looked nothing like him. He was always the odd man out lately. No wonder his son was having problems.

  It was about nine o’clock in the evening when he got back on the road. He picked up the phone to check on his son.

  Donavan answered on the first ring. “Hello.”

  He didn’t sound right to Isaac. Almost as if he were scared. Real scared. “You all right, son?”

  “Oh, Dad. It’s you.”

  “Yeah, it’s me. You don’t sound right. What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing, Dad. I’m just tired.”

  “Boy, you’re eleven years old. You don’t have no business being tired.”

  “Almost twelve,” Donavan said proudly.

  Isaac smiled. “Yeah, Tuesday’s the big day for you. So what do you want for your birthday?”

  After an uncomfortable pause, Donavan replied, “I just want you to be here. Can you come, Dad?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Not even for your ministry obligations?”

  He heard the doubt in his son’s voice and wanted to kick himself for it. “I’ve already worked out the details with your mother. We’re going to take you out to dinner. I’ll be there. Count on it.”

  “Okay, Dad. I can’t wait to see you.”

  Isaac was smiling when they hung up. His son sounded excited about seeing him again. Maybe their weekend together had done more good than he thought.

  Before he could lay his phone down, Cassandra rang in. “You got me on your mind, huh? Isaac joked with her.

  “You know I do. When will you be home?”

  “I’ve got a couple more hours on the road, but I should make it in a little before midnight.”

  “Well, everything is in tip-top shape at your house. You should be able to fall right into bed and not worry about a thing.”

  His back was aching from the long drive. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting older. Needed more rest these days. “That sounds good.”

  “Oh, and I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  His cell phone chirped at him. Low battery.

  “Cassandra, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can hear you.”

  “My phone is about to die on me.” He always forgot to charge the stupid thing. He didn’t have a car charger with him. “So, tell me quick. What’s the surprise?”

  Her voice was low and seductive as she said, “Well, I think you will enjoy—”

  “Cassandra, Cassandra,” Isaac called out her name, but it was no use. The battery was dead.

  20

  Donavan hung up the phone, wishing that his father was with him right now. When his dad asked what he wanted for his birthday, he almost told him that he wanted to be alive. But to tell his father that, he’d have to admit to skipping school to help his friends rob a crack house. No, he wasn’t going there. Not with Isaac Walker.

  Pacing around his room, Donavan wondered how in the world he’d gotten into the mess he was in. And more importantly, how he would get out? Why wasn’t he like normal kids? Why’d he have to skip school and join up with a bunch of hoodlums? The more he thought about it, the dumber he felt. His mom and dad had cautioned him against hanging around losers. So, what had he done? Picked JC, king of the losers, as a friend.

  “You really need to work on your decision making skills,”he told himself.

  He pulled the shoebox from under his bed and counted the three hundred dollars again. He pounded his forehead with his palm. “You are so stupid.” He was going to get his throat slit for a lousy three hundred dollars. He kept telling himself that it just didn’t seem worth it. But he was a stupid kid who thought being mad at his mother and father gave him license to do whatever he pleased. The worst part about this whole thing was that Donavan no longer wanted to run away, so he no longer needed a stash of money.

  He was sliding the box back under his bed when JC rung his phone.

  “Okay, Shortie, Let’s do it,” JC said. He sounded excited.

  Donavan’s brows furrowed, “Let’s do what?”

  “You know. What you said.”

  The conversation reminded Donavan of that commercial where the camera panned the ground and the announcer said, “This is your brain.” Then they cracked an egg on the hot summer ground, and told all the crackheads of America, “This is your brain on drugs.”

  “JC, what are you talking about?

  “I called Mickey. Told him I was giving back his money like you suggested.”

  “I don’t think I suggested that you call him up. I was thinking that we’d leave the money on his door step with a note or something.”

  “Naw, it’s cool. It’s cool. Mickey said just bring him the money and all will be forgiven.”

  Donavan didn’t say anything, he was too busy mulling over the news and wondering if Mickey could be trusted to keep his word.

  “Did you spend any of the money I gave you?” JC asked Donavan.

  “No, I still have it all.”

  “Oh, man. You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. Look, I told Mickey that I would meet him at Broadway Park behin
d the shelter at eleven tonight. Can you meet me over there at about quarter ’til?”

  Nothing would make Donavan happier than to give back the blood money. He looked at the clock on his dresser. It was almost ten o’clock. “I’ll be there.”

  He went downstairs to check on his mother. Nina was in the family room, sitting on the sofa reading her Bible. Donavan knew what would come next. She would be knelt down, if not sprawled out, on the floor praying. “What book of the Bible are you reading tonight?” Donavan asked. Nina had told him so many of the stories from the Bible that Donavan felt as if he knew King David and Apostle Paul personally.

  Nina looked up and smiled at her son. “I thought you were in bed.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Do you want to talk?” Nina asked as she moved the Bible from her lap and sat it on the table in order to give Donavan her full attention.

  “No. What for?” he said defensively.

  “Oh, well. Do you want to watch a movie together?”

  He really did want to watch a movie with his mom, but he had to get a stalker off his back first. “Not right now. I don’t want to stop you from spending time with God. So, tell me, what are you reading about?”

  She glanced toward her Bible. “I’m in First Samuel. There’s a story about a woman who couldn’t have children. Well, one day she went to the house of God and cried out to Him. She told God that if He would give her a child, she would give the child back to Him.

  “God granted her request. So, after she had baby Samuel, she took him back to the church and left him with the priest. Samuel served God all the days of his life.”

  Donavan’s brows lifted. “What was the point of having the child if she was going to give it away?”

  Nina laughed. “I’m sure it was hard for her. But you know what I think, Donavan?”

  “Nope, but I know you’re going to tell me.”

  She playfully hit him on the arm. “I think this story was put in the Bible to teach us the importance of dedicating our children to the Lord.”

  “Did you dedicate me to God?”

  “I sure did. And I’ve prayed for you ever since.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Mom, but I’m no Samuel.”

  Nina stood and hugged her son. “Your latter will be greater than your beginning, Donavan. She stepped back and looked at the young man in front of her. “You will do great things for God. I know that like I know my own name.”

  Donavan thought about the watch his dad had given him inscribed with: GOD IS GREAT IN YOU. The same watch that he almost lost to a drug dealer. “Are you sure that you and Dad aren’t just wishing this stuff? Maybe God doesn’t want somebody like me.”

  With a determined look in her eyes she told him, “You are a man of God.” Grabbing his shoulders, Nina continued, “You will fulfill the call of God on your life.”

  He shook his head as he walked away. He was a heathen, and his sainted mother couldn’t see it. How could he be a man of God when he was a thief on his way to give the dope man back his money? Yeah, he could just see God sitting on His throne high-fiving Jesus over the mighty exploits of Donavan Walker.

  21

  He was as quiet as possible while climbing out his bedroom window. Donavan didn’t normally sneak out until his mom was good and sleep. Right now, she was speaking in tongues and calling on the Lord. He hoped like crazy that she was praying for him.

  “Let me get this done, Lord, and this will be the last time I sneak out of the house for anything.”

  His pockets were fat with money that belonged to Mickey, the crazed lunatic. As he rounded the corner, on Broadway, with the park in clear view, he didn’t like what he saw. The park was dark and deserted. Somebody was always up there shooting hoops.

  “Oh, Lord. I’d sure like this to turn out okay,” he said as he inched closer to his destination. Maybe he should speak in tongues like his mother. Maybe God would hear his pleas then.

  Standing in front of the park, Donavan wished he knew how to speak in tongues. He really wanted to try some of that I-tie-my-bow-tie-honda-my-mama stuff. The streetlights were busted. Wouldn’t nobody be able to see over by the shelter with the lights out. Slowly, he walked toward the destination. “JC,” he called out.

  No answer.

  “JC, are you back there?” He picked up a couple of rocks and peeked his head around the corner. What he saw caused him to shake. He felt something warm going down his leg.

  “Get on around here, bad little nigga.”

  That comment came from Mickey. He was holding a razor, JC’s seven foot form was stretched out on the ground, throat slit.

  Donavan’s legs carried him forward even though his brain screamed for him to backtrack all the way home. “What did you do to him?” Donavan screamed at Mickey.

  Mickey smirked. “What did you do in your pants?”

  Donavan looked down. To his mortification, his jeans were wet all the way down to his shoes.

  “Looks like somebody’s afraid of the boogie man,” Mickey taunted.

  “Why’d you have to kill him? He was going to give you the money.” Donavan pulled his portion of the ill-gotten gain from his pocket and threw it at Mickey.

  “Now see, why’d you have to throw my money like it’s trash or something? You better be glad that I go way back with your dad.” Mickey gave Donavan a stare down, then pointed at his cash on the ground. “Pick it up.”

  “You crazy. I’m not bending down to give you easy access to my throat.”

  “I don’t like the fact that you don’t trust me. I told you I go way back with your daddy.” He folded the razor and put it in his pocket. “I have another punishment for you.”

  “Yeah, what?” He might have peed his pants, but he wasn’t about to sound like no little girl.

  “Get on your knees. Beg my forgiveness and then I’ll tell you what your fate will be.”

  “Forget that. I’m not kneeling down so you can slit my throat. If you’re going to do me, I’ll be standing.” He pulled the rocks from behind his back and threw them at Mickey. They slammed into Mickey’s face. Blood gushed from his nose and cheek. Donavan turned and kicked up dust. What is it they say? A good run was better than a bad stand? If Mickey was going to slit his throat, Donavan was going to be a straight punk about it. Catch me if you can, psycho.

  While Donavan was running, screaming, “Help! Help!” a song came to mind. “If I ever needed the Lord, sure do need Him now, right now.” He’d always liked that song. His mom hummed it around the house and nothing bad ever happened to her. When he took a break from the “Help. Help” song, he sang, “Sure do need you now, right now.”

  Mickey wiped the blood from his face and licked it. He laughed. “If that boy isn’t just like his daddy, I don’t know who is.”

  He almost hated to kill him. After all, Isaac had been his mentor. He had looked out for him. Walking over to his car, he chided himself, “Don’t do this, Mickey. Cut the kid a break. Do it for Isaac.”

  But hadn’t he bought Isaac a nice Lincoln truck when he’d been released from prison? Isaac didn’t want it. Even bought Isaac a house and was going to throw Isaac some cash so he wouldn’t have to come home and grind from scratch. But Isaac didn’t want that either. Mickey was confused. He couldn’t predict what Isaac wanted anymore. So who was he to say that Isaac wouldn’t want him to gut the life out of his thieving little son?

  He jumped in his car with purpose. The night stalker was back in business. He turned the radio up as he gassed the peddle. A popular release from 50 Cent was in his CD player, blasting ignorance. “Many men wish death upon me.”

  Mickey’s head bobbed back and forth as he reached in the glove compartment and grabbed his gun. He turned on Donavan’s street. Run, Donavan, run. That little knucklehead could have been the next Carl Lewis. Look at him go.

  Nina was on the porch waiting for Donavan when he bounded up the stairs. She stood and snatched him up. “Boy, where have you been? Donavan was p
anting, looking around like somebody was chasing him. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

  “Not now, Mama. Let’s go in the house.” He tried to move her toward the door, but she wasn’t budging.

  “This is the perfect time.” Her finger was in his face. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

  Donavan’s eyes widened.

  Walking the length of the porch, arms going every which way but loose, she told him, “You’ve been skipping school. And now, now I catch you sneaking out of the house.”

  Donavan watched the Lincoln inch toward them. He didn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to his mother. He tried to push her down.

  Nina stumbled but quickly regained her balance. “You’ve gone too far now, Donavan.”

  She grabbed hold of her son and shook him. “Come with me, I’m calling your father.”

  “No!” Donavan screamed and pulled away from Nina while trying to push her down again.

  Mickey saw Nina. Whew, she was good and mad. Arms flailing in the air—giving that prodigal a piece of her mind. ’Bout time.

  He rolled down the window and leaned over. He almost wanted to wait, see if that knucklehead would finally get the beating he’s been begging for. Donavan turned and looked at him. His eyes went wild as he tried to push his mother out of the way. She was pretty tough though.

  Watch out. Here comes the night stalker.

  “Donavan, what are you doing?” she screamed at him, refusing to budge.

  “Get down, Mama! Get down!”

  The first bullet hit Donavan in the back. Nina grabbed her son and moved him behind her. Mickey heard her say, “Lord, Jesus help us,” as he lit her, Donavan, and the porch up with the rest of the bullets in his clip.

  Her body seemed to lift off the ground with the assault of the bullets. She floated down, kind of angelic like.

  “Wow.” Mickey had never seen anything so beautiful. He wished he had a camera. He’d call the shot, ‘The Floating Dead.He drove away wishing he could do it again.