by Paul Langan
Savon’s mattress creaked, and he heard movement from the other side of the room. It was the second night in a row that Hakeem hadn’t heard his cousin go to bed. Hakeem wondered how late Savon had been up. He was about to ask him when he noticed that Savon had grabbed a pillow and put it over his head.
Hakeem yawned, rubbed his eyes, and headed to the shower.
A half hour later, Uncle James and Hakeem got to the store. A police car was pulling away when they arrived. An Asian man standing in front of the dollar store watched them closely as they approached.
“That’s Mr. Sung,” Uncle James said. “He owns the dollar store. He called me this morning about the robbery. ”
As soon as they got out of the car, Uncle James walked over to Mr. Sung, and the two began talking. Uncle James’s face looked tense when he returned. “That’s the third robbery around here in the past month,” he said angrily. “I don’t know what the cops are doing, but I got one of the only stores that ain’t been robbed,” Uncle James added. “I know we need it, but I can’t afford no alarm system right now. ”
Hakeem and his uncle inspected the exterior of the store before going inside. Everything seemed undisturbed. Still Hakeem had an eerie feeling knowing that just hours earlier someone was creeping around in the dark. What if the person carried a gun?
Once the store opened, work was even worse than the day before. A new sign, painted on the glass by Uncle James, announced a “2-Day Sale” with “Huge Summer Discounts!” Hakeem was surprised to see that it attracted a steady stream of customers, which thrilled his uncle. But while Uncle James attended to customers, Hakeem mopped and scrubbed the rear of the store by himself. For hours, he worked on his knees, scraping the cement floor until it was bright and clean.
“The floor looks good, Hakeem,” Uncle James said late in the day. “Last time it looked like that was when Savon cleaned it about six months ago. That was just before all this nonsense with his friends started. He ain’t done much in here since. That boy don’t know the meaning of work, not like you,” he said.
Hakeem’s jaws tightened at his uncle’s words. Something about them made Hakeem feel dishonest.
“You and Savon get a chance to talk yet?”
“No, not yet. I been working whenever he’s home,” Hakeem replied, knowing that work wasn’t the real reason the two weren’t talking.
James nodded thoughtfully and said, “Why don’t you take tomorrow morning off. Maybe you two can hang out or something. ”
“Are you sure?” Hakeem asked.
“Yeah, you earned it,” Uncle James said, leaving to greet a customer.
Great, Hakeem thought, imagining a conversation with Savon. While time off sounded nice, a day with Savon seemed almost worse than a day of work.
“Your uncle is so pleased with your work,” Aunt Lorraine gushed at dinner that night. “He said you learn fast and work hard. ”
“Thank you,” Hakeem mumbled between bites of his cheeseburger.
“I see all the work at this store has increased your appetite,” Mom said with a smile. “You keep working that hard, and you’re gonna look like Savon. ”
Hakeem smiled uncomfortably and poured a glass of soda.
“Yeah, and hopefully he’ll be a little more like Hakeem ,” Aunt Lorraine said. “I sure hope that boy gets his act together. He and James got into a big argument a few months back, and he’s been walkin’ around with a chip on his shoulder ever since. I know James is tough on him sometimes, maybe a little too tough. But it’s only cause he doesn’t want Savon to get in trouble like so many of the kids around here. There ain’t no use tellin’ Savon that, though. He don’t wanna listen to nobody. ”
“He’s at that age,” Mom spoke up. “This is when some of them start to rebel, except Hakeem. He’s not that type,” she said, smiling at him.
Hakeem wanted to get up and leave the table. He felt as if he were under a giant magnifying glass. Everyone talked about him as if they knew what he was thinking, yet no one had a clue.
Dad spoke up then, the lines in his forehead a bit deeper than usual. “It can’t be easy on Savon havin’ us here either, having to share his room and all. Maybe that has something to do with his behavior,” he said.
“Henry, this started long before you arrived. He had been working at the store all the time, and then they had that argument, and something snapped. Now, it’s like pullin’ teeth to get him to help out. And with the friends he’s got . . . I really worry. ”
“You ever try sittin’ down and talkin’ with him about it?” Dad asked.
“There’s no talkin’ to that boy right now. He’s hard-headed and so angry sometimes. I feel like I don’t know my own son. Sometimes I feel like he’s a stranger,” Aunt Lorraine admitted, her voice trembling slightly.
Mom reached across the table to comfort her. “He’s not a stranger,” she said softly. “You just keep on loving him no matter how hard it gets at times. Keep loving him and he’ll turn ’round. ”
“That’s what I’m praying for,” Aunt Lorraine replied. “I’m praying that he turns around before—”
Just then Savon opened the front door, carrying a plastic bag. Without a word, he quickly moved through the dining room and darted up the steps. Everyone watched him in icy silence.
Seconds later, the upstairs door closed with a muffled thud. The sound was followed quickly by the rhythmic bass of rap music thumping like a giant heartbeat in the ceiling overhead.
“You see what I mean?” Aunt Lorraine said.
Dad nodded thoughtfully.
Hakeem sighed and rubbed his temples, trying unsuccessfully to push away the headache that was beginning to creep into his skull.
After dinner, Hakeem reluctantly climbed the stairs to the bedroom. He had to get his guitar. Knowing Savon was in the room, he decided to be as quick as possible. Just rush in, get the guitar, and get out. There would be no words, no opportunity for confrontation. He’d save that for later, when he wasn’t tired and his head didn’t feel like someone was trying to hammer a rusty spike into his brain.
At the top of the steps, Hakeem paused outside the door and felt the heavy beat of the music. He rapped his knuckles against the wooden door, but the music continued. He knocked again, this time a bit louder. Still no response. Frustrated, he grabbed the doorknob and turned. It was locked.
“What’s he doing?!” Hakeem growled under his breath.
Balling his hand into a fist, he pounded three times, making sure that the sound would be heard over the music. For an instant, Hakeem thought he heard shuffling inside. Then the music cut off.
“What?” Savon said from inside.
“It’s me,” Hakeem said. “I need to get something. ”
“I need some privacy right now,” he said with an edge to his voice. “Why don’t you go back downstairs, and talk about me some more. I’m leavin’ soon, and you can go to bed then. ”
Hakeem seethed with anger. Staring at the closed door, he wanted to smash it into pieces and then pound Savon’s face. He took a deep breath and struggled to regain his composure.
“Savon, I ain’t playin’ with you, man. Just give me my g-g-guitar. That’s all I want. ”
For several long seconds, Hakeem stood in the hallway, unable to hear anything except the TV downstairs and the thud of his own heartbeat pounding in his temples. If he didn’t get the guitar, there would be war.
Then the door opened.
Savon was wearing a Detroit Pistons jersey and had an expensive-looking silvery chain hanging from his neck. “Here you go, Cali. Go play another B-B-Beach Boys song,” he mocked, holding out the guitar though the partially-opened door.
For an instant, Hakeem imagined himself smashing the instrument across Savon’s face. He blinked back the image and grabbed the guitar.
Savon smirked, sucked his teeth, shut the door in Hakeem’s face, and locked it. From the hallway, Hakeem heard him opening his closet door and moving things around. Then the music
kicked on, and Hakeem was left standing in the hallway alone.
“You better close that door,” Hakeem grumbled as he walked down the steps, his vision clouded by rage.
Outside on the back step, Hakeem let his frustration bleed through his fingers into the strings of his guitar. Slowly, the pain in his head eased, and his anger transformed into music, which dissipated into the evening air like steam.
The guitar allowed him to tell the truth his family didn’t seem to understand, that he was scared for his father, that he missed his friends, that he wanted to go home, that he didn’t know how to deal with Savon. Music and his journal were the only places he didn’t have to be strong or silent.
When he finally stopped playing, the sky was dark, and cool damp air had replaced the heat of the day.
“I was wondering when you were going to take a break,” said a familiar voice nearby.
Hakeem looked up to see Anika watching him from her yard.
“You come for another show?” he said with a smile.
“Actually, I was gonna ask you about that guitar lesson, but you looked so serious I decided to leave you alone. ”
“It’s been a rough day,” he admitted. “More like a rough week. ”
“I heard that,” she replied sympathetically. “Seems like you and me are in the same mood. ”
Anika was silent for a second. Hakeem could see her bright eyes against the dark.
“Hey, you wanna go for a walk or something? I could go for a slice of pizza. ”
“That’s the best thing I heard all day,” he said, his mood lifting at her suggestion. “Show me the way. ”
Out on the street, Hakeem struggled not to stare at Anika. Her body was perfect. “A work of art wrapped in jeans and a black tank top,” Hakeem would write in his journal. Several times, he was nearly speechless as he looked at her smooth coffee skin, her full lips, her onyx eyes.
As they walked, the two of them talked about their favorite music, TV shows, and movies. But when they sat down inside Metro Pizza, Anika’s mood changed, and her eyes became more serious.
“So what do you think of Detroit?” she asked, raising a slice of pizza to her mouth.
Hakeem wiped a bit of melted cheese from his lip. “To be honest, I haven’t even seen much if it. All the music and history here, and all I’ve seen is my uncle’s store. This is the first time I been out without my uncle bossin’ me around. ”
“You better get used to it if you’re gonna keep working with Mr. Randall. That’s just the way he is. Believe me, I know. Savon used to complain about it all the time. That store is your uncle’s life,” she replied.
Hakeem was bothered by the idea that Savon and Anika talked, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“I’m starting to feel trapped there, and I’ve only worked a few days,” he admitted. “I know I should be grateful and all. But it’s hard, you know? And now there are these robberies,” he said bitterly.
“Robberies? ” Anika said, seeming surprised and interested at the same time.
“Yeah, the dollar store near my uncle’s shop was robbed last night. He’s so worried, he wants to have a security system put in. The police don’t seem to have a clue who’s doing it. ”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t surprise me. They’re usually the last to know what’s going on. There are so many thugs around here, they don’t know where to look. ”
Hakeem looked at Anika as she spoke. There was a bitterness in her voice, but what also struck him was the word she used— thugs. It was the word he noticed on Savon’s magazine earlier that day.
“Most of the boys I knew from school are in jail or they’re on their way. Some of the girls ain’t much better. They commit crimes to get money or respect. It’s sad. I used to be into that, but no more. Now, I just wanna get outta here, you know. ”
Hakeem nodded. He knew what it was like to want to run away. He felt it too, now more than ever. “Where would you go? This is your home, right? And what about your grandma?”
“No, this is where my mom left me,” Anika replied, an edge in her voice. “And soon, a social worker is gonna put my grandma in a nursing home. When that happens, all I’ll have is my job at the laundromat, and that ain’t enough for me. I got a cousin in California. That’s where I’m headed. ”
Hakeem didn’t know what to say. Anika had troubles far deeper than he realized. She wiped her eyes for an instant, as if dust had briefly irritated her. “You mean you’re goin’ to Cali’?” he said, doing his Savon impression.
She smiled. “I’m sorry to be dumping all my drama on you. You got your own troubles to deal with right now. ”
“It’s okay, Anika,” Hakeem replied, trying to think of something helpful to say. He had not expected their conversation to go this way. He stood close to her and put his hand on her back. “You ever think about college? That’s my plan. I want to be a teacher. ”
“College? ” Anika repeated. “With my grades, they’d laugh me right out the front door. ”
“Well, you seem pretty smart to me,” he said.
“I got street smarts, Hakeem. That’s not what they want in school. ”
“But—”
“Look, don’t you start worrying about me. I know what I’m doing. I’m headin’ to California. I just wish I got to know you sooner, Mr. Blues Man,” she said with a smile. Her face seemed to recover its brightness, as if her words made her feel better. “Let’s go home,” she added, reaching down and grabbing his hand. He swallowed hard, trying to conceal his surprise.
“And just in case you were wonderin’ about me and Savon,” Anika spoke up, a glimmer in her eye. “We were together a while ago, but that’s over. ”
“And what makes you think I was wondering about that?” Hakeem asked, pleased by what she said.
“Street smarts, remember?” Anika replied, pointing to her head as they walked out onto the street. She was somehow honest and secretive at the same time. He’d never met anyone like her. Yet as they crossed the street toward her house, she suddenly froze in her steps. “Oh no,” she said, stepping away from him.
Hakeem looked up to see Savon walking toward them. He was with two friends, and they were heading straight at them.
“Now I’ve seen everything,” Savon said, shaking his head as if what he saw hurt and disgusted him. “I was hungry for some pizza, but now I feel sick to my stomach. Cuz, I gotta give you credit. You don’t waste no time,” he added.
“Savon, what’s your problem?” Anika said. “You been buggin’ for months now. I thought we were cool. ”
“We are cool. I ain’t got no problems with you, girl. I’m just surprised my cousin’s a player, that’s all. What about Darcy, cuz?” Savon asked as he walked by. “I guess it ain’t so hard to leave home after all. ”
Hakeem’s blood boiled. How could Savon know of Darcy? He turned to Savon, but already his cousin was across the street, heading to Metro Pizza.
“Who you been talking to?” Hakeem asked, but Savon and his friends went inside with no reply.
“Just ignore him,” Anika said. “He’s just frontin’ with you, that’s all. I can tell. ”
“Seems more like he’s trying to pick a fight with me. ”
“Him, no. He just acts that way so people leave him alone. When I first met him, he was heavy, and everyone teased him. Then he started liftin’ and actin’ hard so kids would respect him. It worked, I guess. But he ain’t bad like the other kids around here. He just pretends to be. ”
“Well, if he’s so good, why aren’t you with him?”
“That’s a long story for another time,” she replied, looking away from him. Together, they walked several blocks toward the house in near silence.
At one point, Anika pointed out a small laundromat not far from Uncle James’s house. “That’s where I work,” she said as they passed. “Come visit me there some time. It’s so boring. ”
Hakeem fought to contain all the questions he had for her. And he st
ill wondered how Savon knew about Darcy. There had to be some explanation. But what?
Finally, they stopped walking in front of Anika’s house.
“So, it sounds like you got a girl back home,” she said suddenly.
“A girl?”
“Yeah, you know, a girlfriend,” she said, locking her eyes on him.
Hakeem stammered, unsteady in her intense gaze. “The s-s-situation is real confusing. ”
“Is that the Darcy Savon was talkin’ about?”
“Yeah, but we sort of broke up when I came here,” he confessed, feeling a twinge of guilt as the words came out of his mouth.
“Do you miss her?”
Hakeem paused for a moment. Nervous energy trembled in his stomach. “Sometimes . . . but not right now,” he admitted, feeling stupid for being so honest.
Anika smiled, bit her lip, and took a step back. “I’m lookin’ forward to that guitar lesson. ”
“Me too,” he replied, taking a deep breath.
“Goodnight, Hakeem,” she said as she walked up the step to her front door, the words sounding to him like music.
“Goodnight,” he replied, excitement and confusion waging a silent war deep in his chest.
Chapter 5
The minute he got inside, Hakeem headed upstairs. He wanted to see Anika again, yet he felt guilty, as if just thinking about her was somehow a betrayal of Darcy. He wondered if Darcy was dating someone else back home. The thought bothered him, but it did not push Anika from his mind. Her sad story echoed in his head like a catchy song.
But what bothered Hakeem most was Savon. How did he know about Darcy? Could he have talked to Mom and Dad? Probably not.
Then Hakeem noticed something unusual. His journal, which had been next to his bed, was missing. He glanced around the room and spotted it on top of a stack of entertainment magazines on Savon’s desk. It was open and faced down, as if someone was reading it and had put it down to save the page.
