Bronxwood

by Coe Booth

  When she get to us, she say, “Tyrell, what are you doing here?” She ain’t yelling or nothing. She look like she holding her anger inside.

  “I came to see Troy,” I say. I mean, why else she think I’m there?

  “Well, isn’t it enough to see him at the agency? Why do I bring him there if you’re just going to sneak behind my back and see him here?”

  Troy look from her to me and back to her again. “What’s wrong?” he go.

  “Nothing,” I say, staring at Ms. Woods.

  I tell Troy to put the cartoon back on and that I’ma be over there in a second. When he run back to the TV, I say to Ms. Woods, “He my brother. Just ’cause the state took him away, you know that don’t mean I only wanna see my brother once a week.”

  “I understand that, but you have to see things from my point of view. Troy’s been with me for a couple of months now and he’s adapting to life in my house, a home with structure. Then every week, I have to take him to the agency, and most of the time, before your father was released from prison, your mother wouldn’t even show up. And you weren’t there either. So I had to bring him home and deal with his disappointment. That wasn’t easy.”

  Damn. Why she gotta make me feel guilty?

  She keep on talking. “Now your father is out and you all are filling Troy’s head with promises, telling him he’s going home and making him think he doesn’t have to listen to me anymore. Now he’s disobedient and mad all the time. You know, Tyrell, we all have to work together here. I’m not working against you. We’re all doing this for Troy.”

  “You doing this for Troy? Then why you changing his school? That ain’t gonna help him none. He ’bout to get put in the regular class, but if you move him, they pro’ly gonna keep him in special ed. That ain’t good for him.”

  “Tyrell, I’m a working woman and I don’t have time to take him halfway across the Bronx every morning to get him to school. There’s a good school right near my apartment. And they have an after-school program with tutoring. It’s a good thing for him. Don’t worry.”

  “He got friends at his old school, you know.”

  “He’ll make new friends.”

  I ain’t in the mood to fight with Ms. Woods, not here in front of all these kids. So I drop it. I go over and tell Troy I hafta go, but I’ma be back soon. No matter what Ms. Woods say, no way I’ma let her keep me from my brother.

  I try calling Jasmine again ’cause I still ain’t heard from her, but her cell go to voicemail. She probably at work. Her boss don’t let her use her cell and she usually too busy for that anyway. But I need to talk to her. This is stupid already. I need to know what’s going on between us.

  So I walk a couple blocks even though it’s still raining and get on the bus and take it to the restaurant where she work at. The whole way there, I’m not sure why I’m even going there. Why she couldn’t just call me back yesterday? Why she ain’t acting like herself? Me and her used to be able to talk ’bout anything. Then we hooked up and now everything changed and I don’t know why.

  On the bus, I try calling the first foster mother again, but the call go to voicemail and I leave another message, asking if she could call me back real soon. Damn. I don’t know why I can’t get ahold of her. I wish I knew her cell number. Time running out. I gotta get Troy outta Ms. Woods house before she put that school transfer through. Then it’s gonna be too late.

  I get to Jasmine job at the Spanish restaurant and stand in the little waiting area for a couple minutes watching her work. She go by two tables smiling, checking to see if everybody okay, and then she go to another table and take the family orders. She look nice and she acting kinda friendly and everything, but something ’bout her is off. She acting kinda fake, you ask me. She just going through the motions.

  Jasmine still don’t see me standing there, and after she take the people order and start to walk over by the counter, I whisper to her, “Jasmine.”

  She turn ’round. “Ty? What? Why are you—?”

  Weird thing is, she look kinda embarrassed or something. What, she don’t want me coming to her job no more? She don’t wanna be seen with me? “I ain’t heard from you, so I—”

  “I’m sorry,” she go. “I know I didn’t call you back, but I, I’m just tired, you know. We took Yesenia back to Connecticut right after the party and stood there all day yesterday. Then we had to drive back real early this morning so Emil could get to work on time, and I had to come to work too.” She look down.

  “What time you getting off?” I ask her. “’Cause I wanna talk to you.”

  “I get off at seven, but Emil’s gonna pick me up on his way home from the gym, you know, because it’s raining. And he—”

  “A’ight,” I say, and stand there waiting for her to say something, tell me she wanna spend time with me too.

  But all she say is, “I gotta get back to work, Ty. I’ll call you when I get some free time.”

  She give me a real fast hug and turn back and go to the counter. It take me, like, two, three minutes standing there before I get it.

  I been dismissed.

  WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 20

  THIRTY-TWO

  I wake up hearing banging. Banging. lt’s Tuesday night – nah, it’s Wednesday ’cause it’s something after three in the morning, and my first thought is that somebody musta broke into our place. Then I think somebody must be tryin’ to attack Cal again. I remember that Cal crashed on the couch, and I jump outta bed and run down the hall, ready to kick ass if I need to protect my friend.

  But the apartment dark and the banging still happening on the other side of the door. I can tell there’s more than one person kicking ’cause no way one dude could kick that many times that fast. Even though it’s dark, I can see that Cal awake now too. “You know who out there?” I whisper to him.

  “Nah.” He sit up straight. “What you think they want?”

  “I don’t know.” But we both probably thinking the same thing — that they either the same dudes that attacked Cal last week or some other dudes that’s trying to rob the apartment or something. They kicking so hard, for the first time I’m happy Andre put all them locks on the door.

  When the kicking stop, I go closer to the door and look through the peephole to see who out there. I see two guys, both looking like they ’round twenty years old or something. I never seen them before so I know they ain’t from Bronxwood, but least they don’t got no weapons or nothing. Nothing I can see anyway. One of the guys see me and yell, “Where Greg? Get Greg.”

  Me and Cal look at each other. I’m thinking, Greg? What they want Greg for? I mean, yeah, he the one that handle the stash, but what they think he got here?

  Cal get up off the couch. It take him a while but he come over to the door and look through the peephole. He shake his head. “I don’t think they the dudes that, you know …” He stop talking.

  I don’t know what to say neither. Or what to do ’bout this situation. “Greg here?” I ask.

  “I think. All I know is before I went to sleep he was coming in and out all night. I don’t know what he was doing.”

  Greg don’t never make no sense to me.

  “I’ma wake him up,” Cal say and go down the hall. He still walking real slow, so it’s gonna take a while. I check the peephole again and the guys is still there. Matter of fact, one of them looking right at me. They know we in here and we just ignoring them.

  I move away from the door just in case they do something stupid like shoot up the door or some shit. I don’t know what they want or what they ’bout to do. Wouldn’t be the first time somebody at Bronxwood got they door shot up.

  Cal come back and say, “He coming.” And me and him wait.

  Finally, I hear Greg door open and slam behind him, and he come down the hall. He musta been dead ’sleep ’cause half his face is dented in and shit. He look mad too, but what he want us to do? Not wake his ass up and let some dudes keep kicking our door all night? I don’t even get how he could sleep
through all that noise. It probably woke up everybody on this floor. “What the fuck going on?” he ask. He mad but he whispering.

  I shrug. “They want you.”

  “Me? What for?”

  The kicking start up again and I don’t know if it’s ’cause they heard Greg voice and know he up now or what. If it’s possible, the kicking even louder now. They wanna get in here. “Greg, you sure you don’t keep no weed or nothing in the apartment?”

  “How many times you gonna ask me that, Ty? I told you. Everything at the stash house. We don’t even got no money.”

  “Then why they here for? They must know something?”

  “I ain’t lying to you,” Greg say. But this time, even though it’s half dark in here, I’m looking in his eyes, and I know for a fact that he lying his ass off. Probably been lying this whole time.

  And while I’m thinking ’bout it, and while I got the chance ’cause for the first time I ain’t hear him lock his door behind him, I take off running down the hall to his room so I could see for myself what he got in there.

  When I push the door open all the way and flip the lights on, all I can say is, “Oh, shit,” ’cause Greg whole room full of drugs. Not weed though. All I see is plastic bags of pills, all kinda pills with different colors and shit. Dude got enough pills in here to — “You running a side business,” I say as Greg come up behind me. “You fucking—” Greg crash hisself into me and knock me down on the floor.

  “Get outta here, Ty,” he say.

  I jump up, ready to fight if he wanna. “How you gonna do this?” I ask him.

  Cal finally get to the room and his face go from surprised to pissed in, like, two seconds. The first thing out his mouth is, “This the reason them dudes is out there? This the reason why you wasn’t where you was supposed to be when …” He shake his head. “You the brother they was talking about.” His eyes is like stabbing Greg. I ain’t never seen Cal this pissed. Never.

  It all making sense now. Cal said they beat him up ’cause his brother was selling in somebody else hood. I thought they was talking ’bout Andre, but it wasn’t him. “You a asshole, Greg,” I say. “’Cause of you, your brother almost was killed out there. How that make you feel?”

  “I ain’t do nothing,” Greg say. “I’m just making my own money. You think I wanna work for Andre my whole life?”

  “You were s’posed to be protecting Cal,” I say. “But you too busy—”

  “You don’t know shit, Ty. Get the fuck out—”

  That’s when Cal run up on him. I ain’t think he had the strength in him, but he must be working on crazy power or something ’cause he jump on Greg and knock him down and then Cal start swinging on his head. Hard. He ain’t playing neither.

  But as much as I wanna see Greg get his ass kicked, I don’t wanna see Cal hurt hisself doing it. So I grab Cal under his arms and pull him up off Greg. “C’mon, man. C’mon.” He stronger than I think. “Cal, c’mon. You don’t wanna do this.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He spittin’ mad.

  I finally pull Cal off him and make him leave outta Greg room. The second we out, Greg slam and lock his door like, what’s the point now? We already know what he got going on in there. I take Cal back out to the living room real slow. I make him sit back down on the couch and go get him some Pepsi. He gotta calm down. Chill. Dude ribs ain’t even through being healed.

  “I wanna kill him,” Cal say after a while.

  “Me too.”

  Good thing Greg locked his ass in his room ’cause it take a lot for me to not go back down the hall and give him a little of what Cal got from them dudes. But Cal sitting on the couch breathing hard and back in pain again, so for now I gotta look out for him. ’Cause nobody else gonna do that. Andre all talk, saying how they running a family business and they doing everything for everybody else. But that’s all bullshit.

  They only looking out for theyself.

  THIRTY-THREE

  I couldn’t hardly sleep, even after them dudes left and everything settled back down. Cal took one of his pain pills and passed out on the couch. And I went back to my room to try and sleep, but I was too pissed off for that. My brain couldn’t stop thinking ’bout the fact that Greg been lying all this time, telling us what we wanted to hear. And all this time, living here, I been putting my own freedom on the line for some shit Greg doing just for hisself.

  The thing that I couldn’t stop thinking ’bout all night is, now that I know what’s going on here, what I’ma do ’bout it? Can’t stay here, I know that for a fact. But where I’m s’posed to go now?

  I ain’t looking to up and leave Cal here with Greg by hisself. And I know Cal wouldn’t wanna be alone here neither. But everybody else looking out for theyself. Time I started doing that too.

  I’m still dragging my ass ’round one in the afternoon when Patrick come downstairs with his old-ass basketball, like, “C’mon, Ty. We supposed to be working out today.”

  Shit. I forgot ’bout him. Trying to get Patrick in shape ain’t been easy for him, but it’s damn near killing me.

  But I gotta say, after we done playing, I’m glad he came down to get me ’cause working up a sweat felt good. Patrick can’t play for shit, but them other guys that was playing out there today wasn’t no good neither so it worked out alright.

  I had to leave anyway ’cause we got a agency visit at 5:30 and I gotta be there this time.

  “You lookin’ tired,” my pops say to me the second I walk into the visiting room. “You not getting no sleep?”

  “Nah.” I shake my head. This the first time I’m seeing him since he came by Cal apartment acting like a fucking asshole, and now he trying to act like he wanna know how I’m doing. Like he care. But if he wanna know what’s going on, I’ma tell him. “A couple dudes was kicking at our door in the middle of the night. Shit getting crazy. I don’t know how long I’ma be able to stay over there.”

  I wait for him to say something, but all he do is look at the time on his cell and go, “When that lady bringing Troy? I can’t be waiting all night.”

  I sit down on one of the chairs ’cross from my moms. In her lap she got a big bag from Target. “You buy something for Troy?” I ask.

  “Yeah, your father wanted to get him some stuff for school.” She look over at my pops. “We still need a lot for the apartment, but …”

  “I’ma get him a backpack, so don’t get that.”

  “Too late,” she say. “Your father got it already. And new sneakers. What you think is in this bag?”

  Fuck. What I’m s’posed to get him to go back to school? Underwear and socks? And the thing that get me is the way she saying everything. Like my pops beat me in a competition or something. The look on her face is like she happy her man won.

  I’m too tired for all of this. Okay, they wanna buy everything for Troy. Cool. He know who been there for him through all this, and it wasn’t them. Definitely not my pops. So what I got to worry ’bout?

  Through the whole visit, I sit there while Troy act all excited ’bout the backpack they got him even though I can tell it ain’t exactly the one he wanted. He having fun though, and I’m trying not to let nothing my moms and pops do get in the way of that. ’Specially ’cause by the end of the visit he gonna start crying again and we gonna hafta deal with that too.

  When he do, I gotta watch the whole thing play out again. I’m fucking tired of this and it ain’t over, ’cause my pops set up a meeting with Ms. Thomas after Troy leave to find out what they gotta do to get Troy back.

  All three of us squeeze into her piece of office and my pops get right to the point. “I’m back now and I’m trying to get my family right. What I gotta do to make that happen?”

  Ms. Thomas look like she wanted to go home a while ago and she woulda if it wasn’t for us. She turn to my moms and say, “You’re doing real well with the parenting classes. I got a report that you haven’t missed any and that you’re asking questions and getting involved in the discussions. That’
s good.” Then she turn to my pops. “Have you been looking for a job? The judge is going to want to know that you’re able to support your family.”

  “I’m a DJ. I know I’m not supposed to throw my own parties because in the past they got outta hand, so what I’m trying to do now is find a club that needs a new house DJ. I been talking to some people and there’s a spot out in Staten Island that wanna hire me. I’m waiting now.”

  I don’t know what he talking ’bout, but I know it’s bullshit.

  “What’s the name of the club?” Ms. Thomas ask. “I’ll put it down in my notes.”

  “It’s a small club near that college they got out there. You should come check it out sometime.” He smile at her like she the hottest woman he ever seen. Like my moms ain’t even in the room. “When I start working there, I’ma get you free passes.”

  Ms. Thomas shake her head, but for the first time she got a little bit of a smile on her face. “Wish I could,” she say. “But I never have time anymore. I used to.”

  “Soon as I get the job, I’ma bring you them passes. You gonna have fun.” He still working her, looking her in the eyes and shit.

  It don’t take long before she say, “Well, since you’re all doing everything you’re supposed to, I’m going to come by the new apartment and check it out. Then, if the home is safe and everything looks good, I’ll let Troy come for a short visit.” She don’t even see that my pops got her to forget ’bout the name of the club.

  After the meeting over, my moms gotta stay there for her parenting class. Me and my pops go down in the same elevator. When we get outside, I’m ’bout to walk to the train when he turn to me and go, “I need you to come by the apartment and help me get Troy room set up before that bitch come by tomorrow.”

  “I’m s’posed to help you after the way you came to my place the other day and broke my shit? How that helping me?”

  “You want Troy to stay where he at?”

  Me and him just stare at each other for what seem like a long time. I know what he doing, using Troy to get me to do what he want. It piss me off, but if Ms. Thomas come to the apartment tomorrow and say it ain’t good enough for Troy to visit there, I’ma feel like shit. I sigh. “I’ma give you a hour. That’s it.”