Tight

by Torrey Maldonado

  Mike looks at me funny. “You down?”

  I nod. “No doubt. Yeah.”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah! Puh-leez, son. You know I’m down to train-surf.”

  Mike fist-bumps me. “My man!” He taps me and tells me to explain to Little Kevin how crazy fun train-surfing is.

  I start doing that, and the whole time I wonder why I don’t just say what I really feel. Now it’s like I’m two people. On the outside, I’m promoting train-surfing so hard. On the inside, I’m like, Why am I being Mike’s hype-man with this? As I keep telling Little Kevin things, his eyes get wider and wider. He is straight amazed. Now there’s no way he’s backing out of train-surfing.

  When I’m done talking, I want to smack myself for doing the opposite of what I should’ve.

  CHAPTER 27

  On Thursday afternoon, I walk into the apartment, and Ma sits at the kitchen table all happy, smirking at me. Ava is on the couch with the same dumb, happy smirk. I’m confused. They look like they have a secret.

  ‘What?” I ask them.

  Ma clears her throat.

  Then . . . turning the corner . . . from her bedroom . . . is Pa.

  HE’S! OUT! OF! JAIL!

  PA!!! I want to yell. I want to run and hug him tight. But that’s not how we show affection. Plus, the macho way he stands there, all still like a statue, and winks at me with just a tinier version of Ma’s happy smirk—it’s like he expects a macho reaction from me.

  Yeah, he might expect a macho reaction from me, but I can’t stop myself from smiling, real big.

  Pa comes, rubs my head, and surprises me by pulling me in for a quick hug. I wrap my arms around him, anaconda tight. I feel myself tear up. I press my face into his chest so Ava can’t see me cry and call me soft.

  I fight hard to hold my tears in. I win. None come out so I pull my face out of his chest for air.

  “When you get home?” I ask.

  Pa smiles. “While you were at school.”

  Ma must’ve been fronting those times she got letters from jail from him and she told us that she didn’t know when he was being released.

  I ask her, “You knew he’d be out today?”

  She just smiles and shrugs.

  * * *

  • • •

  For about fifteen minutes, I’ve been sitting on the edge of Pa and Ma’s bed. Usually, Pa acts like I annoy him and tells me to leave his room. Right now, he lets me sit here.

  “What was jail like this time?” I ask him.

  He does something he’s never done before: He answers, a little.

  “Jail isn’t somewhere you want to go.” A frown flashes across Pa’s face, then his expression goes back to normal. “Do you like your school rules?”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Why?”

  I stare at him, wondering how much to say. He told me I better never curse, so I’m trying to choose the right words. “Some rules are . . . stupid.”

  Pa nods over and over, slow. “Okay. Now, imagine that your school has a lot more stupid rules and you have to follow every one. Oh, and you sleep at your school. And when you sleep, teachers wake you up, and they make up more stupid rules you have to follow. You’re not fully awake, don’t really understand the rules, but you have to follow them.”

  “Wooooooow.” I think about how much that sucks. “Yeah, but—”

  He interrupts me. “Anyway, while I was away, what have you been up to?”

  “Hanging out with Mike.”

  He smiles. I knew it! I knew while Pa was gone he didn’t want me to ditch Mike. I knew I’d make him happy if I stayed tight with Mike. Since Pa smiled, I throw some extra on that. “Like every day.”

  He nods and makes a face like he approves and is happy to hear that. “Is he a good kid like I thought?”

  I want to be honest about sides of Mike he doesn’t know. But I don’t know how Pa’ll react.

  I say, “Yeah. Usually. Why?”

  “Good friends. You need good ones. Not backstabbers.”

  Him saying this makes me wonder why he said that and if he’s changed his mind about that snake Alex.

  I’d like to ask him, but all of a sudden, Pa doesn’t want to talk anymore. “Bryan, I’m tired and just want some quiet.”

  I stand to leave, even though I wish I could stay. Maybe Pa just wants that feeling I had in Starbucks, of peace, of no drama. I wish he could see that he could have that feeling with me and we don’t have to talk. We could just sit together and chill quietly the way me and Ma do.

  CHAPTER 28

  It’s Saturday morning, and me, Mike, and Little Kevin head to the train station.

  I try to change Little Kevin’s mind. “Kev,” I say. “You sure you want to go train-surfing? Check my hands.” I show him my calluses. “My hands are tough from handball, and you need strong hands to grip outside the train. Your palms strong? Let me see.”

  I say this hoping he knows he’s weak because he is.

  Little Kevin holds his palms up to show me.

  Mike steps in between us and puts Little Kevin’s hands down. “Kev,” he says, “check my hands. You see calluses? No. And my grip is fine.”

  Mike turns to me, asking, “Bruh. The other day you went on and on about how lit train-surfing is. Now you trying to talk him out of it? Nah. You can’t do that. It was lit, is lit, and stays lit, and you know it.” He faces Little Kevin. “Kev, you want to skip train-surfing?”

  “Nah.”

  “Where do you want to go?” Mike asks him.

  “Wherever is clever.”

  Mike smiles. “How about Chinatown?”

  Little Kevin shrugs. “Yeah. There or wherever. I’m down.”

  Mike turns to me. “You can stay if you’re scared.”

  I don’t know why I feel like I need to look after Little Kevin. I’m not even sure I like him enough to protect him. But part of me wants to train-surf just to keep him safe.

  I tell Mike. “You bugging if you think I’m scared. And you’re bugging if you think I’m letting you go without me.”

  A new worker is in the MetroCard booth at our station. She’s busy with paperwork. Outside is as packed as it always is. People move fast in and out of turnstiles and the station.

  Little Kevin asks if we have MetroCards or money.

  Mike looks at him like he’s stupid, but Mike talks to me. “Bryan, tell him we don’t pay.”

  Okay. Back when I told Mike I want to train-surf, I said I didn’t want to hop a turnstile.

  “I have train money,” I say.

  “But hopping the stile is part of the fun.” Mike won’t let it go.

  I look at Mike a long time. I feel played.

  “You going under?” he asks Little Kevin.

  “No doubt.” He smiles. “But I never did before.”

  “Watch us,” Mike says.

  Mike ducks under the turnstile, and it shocks me that the MetroCard booth worker pays him no mind. His feet already disappear up the stairs.

  I can’t pay and let Mike and Little Kevin hop the turnstiles, so I go for it too.

  I’m shocked again when I don’t hear the MetroCard worker in the booth blast on the mic for me to pay my fare. Maybe it’s too packed in here for her to notice short kids ducking under turnstiles.

  I see Mike’s kicks dip around a corner and I follow him. I wonder how Little Kevin is doing. Is he just standing there Stuck On Stupid the way I was when I first saw Mike not pay his fare way back in the day? I almost want to U-turn back to check on him.

  Before I can, I know he ducks under the turnstile. I know because I hear a microphone shout, “Officers! Three boys didn’t pay.”

  Officers?

  I stop and look back, and two cops are chasing Kevin.

  I don’t stay
to look. I keep walking toward the end of the platform, hoping Little Kevin can stay ahead of the cops and hop on the approaching train to book with us.

  The train slows into the station, and I see Mike chilling at the end of the platform.

  “COPS!” I tell him.

  “What? Where?”

  “Chasing Kevin!”

  The train beeps, BOOP! BOOP! then the speakers on it say, “Stand clear of the closing doors,” and we dive onto the back of the train.

  As the train starts moving, I spot Little Kevin show up on the platform, heaving. I wish I could yell, “JUMP!” as we pass and I’d grab his hand midair and yank him onto the train’s back with us. But that’s some crazy movie stuff. There’s no way he can climb on this train. And there’s no way he can get on.

  As the train zooms forward and we get closer, I see the two cops grab Little Kevin and shout at him.

  My heart drops. I turn and yell at Mike, “THE COPS HAVE KEV!”

  He can’t hear me because of the outside sound, but Mike is grinning. His eyes look like I don’t expect—happy. The cops’ve got Little Kevin, but Mike is just happy that he didn’t get caught.

  * * *

  • • •

  Mike elbows my shoulder, letting me know it’s our stop. We get off in Manhattan and hustle onto the platform and jet up the stairs.

  Outside, he grabs my forearm mad forcefully. He never touched me this hard. He whispers, “You think the cops saw us?”

  I snatch my arm back. “Cops got Kev! And you just worried about you?!”

  He looks around to see if anyone heard me. “Shut up.”

  “Don’t tell me to shut up,” I whisper, feeling my hands ball into fists. “You don’t care that he’s probably in some cop car heading to a police precinct now?”

  He smirks. “I’m not worried. Because before today I told Kev if we ever got caught doing something, we never snitch on each other.”

  “Just because you told him don’t? Puh-leez. Bruh, he could be snitching right now.”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. He ain’t. I also told him if he drops dime, he’ll catch a beatdown.”

  I look past Mike and wonder, Catch a beatdown? From who? Mike? From his friends?

  I look at the names of streets and stores around us. “Why we get off in Manhattan? And here?”

  “Brooklyn and Manhattan cops don’t really talk. If BK cops radio each other, whatever. Manhattan cops probably won’t hear it and won’t check for us. But we need to forget Chinatown, the arcade, and everything. I’m not saying Kev snitched, but if he did, we can’t go where he knows. We need to do new until this afternoon.”

  “Afternoon?! Bruh, I want to be back before that.” I want to see my mom. I don’t know why. I just really feel that right now.

  “Around later in the afternoon is better. So if our fam knows, they had time to chill.”

  “Why you saying all this when you think Kev won’t snitch?”

  “We don’t have to worry, trust me. But we can’t be stupid.”

  Trust Mike? I don’t trust him. I think of Little Kevin again.

  This is too much too fast. First, cops. Next, who knows what’s happening with Little Kevin? Now our parents might find out?

  “Where you think Kev is?” I ask.

  “Who cares?”

  I look at Mike like I can’t believe him, for real. Little Kevin stayed up under him like Mike was his big brother. Like Mike had Little Kevin’s back. If only he could be here, hearing him right now.

  “Yeah,” I say, “but it’s our fault he’s in trouble.”

  He laughs under his breath. “It’s not my fault. Who told him to follow us?”

  I really can’t believe Mike right now. And all of what’s happening.

  “Bust it, a Starbucks.” He points across the street. “Let’s go chill.”

  As he crosses the street to Starbucks without me, I look at the back of his head and wonder.

  I wonder how he’d react if it was me who got caught by the cops.

  People rush by me—all busy—in front of me, behind me. Some grown man almost knocks me over on his way somewhere. People are everywhere, but I feel alone in all this craziness. Craziness that I let myself get into for months. That I let myself get into right now. I feel like I can’t talk to anyone about this stuff. I feel like I can’t go anywhere to be safe and I hate it. I have so many feelings I don’t know what to do. I stare at him disappearing into Starbucks. He’s the only one who knows everything. He’s the only one I have to trust. I hate it.

  I rush and jaywalk to the Starbucks.

  CHAPTER 29

  It’s almost two thirty when we’re back on my block. I eye every- one, nervous someone knows.

  Real fast, this really tall, thin sixth grader from another school rolls up on me and Mike on a scooter. I expect him to say he knows about us and Little Kevin. Instead, he kicks it with Mike about some nonsense. I relax a little.

  But going in my building, Ava’s reaction surprises us and makes me want to U-turn off my stoop and hop a train somewhere far off.

  She puts her hand on her hip, cocking her head sideways, real salty. “Wait until you get upstairs.”

  Mike starts leaving. “Peace, Bryan. I gotta be home.”

  “Yeah!” Ava barks at his back. “Leave! Because you might be in trouble too!”

  I watch him bounce, then I play dumb and smile at Ava. “What we in trouble for?”

  She leaves, and I stand here Stuck On Stupid and dumb nervous. As she stomps upstairs, I stare at the stoop door. I should jet.

  Ava yells down to me from the second floor. “Don’t let me come get you. Hurry up!”

  Dang! Dang-dang-dang-DANG! UGH!!!

  * * *

  • • •

  Oh, dip. Pa is on the couch, cracking his knuckles over and over like he’s about to throw someone a beatdown with his wild, bulging, googly eyes—all intense like he’s kray. He stares at me like I’m the one about to catch the beatdown.

  Little Kevin must’ve snitched. Now I’m about to catch wreck.

  “Bryan.” He grabs and holds up a torn open envelope from the couch. “What is this?!”

  I look it up and down, trying to figure it out. I can’t tell from across the room.

  “Answer me! This says you missed school on days Ma says you were in school!”

  Wait? What? This isn’t about me train-surfing and Little Kevin getting caught by the cops? This is about me cutting school?

  Pa stands and punches his thigh. “You go to school?! Or no?! Because if you cut school, I’ll smack you!”

  My eyes pop wide and bounce from Pa to Ava, then back to him.

  Pa takes a step toward me, balling his free fist.

  I imagine I’m Luke Cage. I brace myself for his smack. I imagine I won’t feel anything.

  Pa takes another step toward me. “Talk!”

  I swallow hard. My mouth is mad dry and I’m so scared I can’t get a word out.

  “Tell him!” Ava says to me. My eyes meet hers. She doesn’t want me to get smacked.

  “I . . .” I look back at Pa. “I . . .”

  “Joe!” Ma comes out of her bedroom. “Don’t touch Bryan! You want me to call your parole officer?”

  Pa’s eyes slit.

  He knows she will and that that call will send him back to jail.

  He eyes me real angry as he leaves. Passing Ma, he tells her under his breath, “Keep babying him and watch! Watch what happens.”

  Ava folds her arms and nods like now it’s. About. To. Go. Down.

  She probably thinks what I do. Ma came to regulate.

  “Ava, go to your room.”

  “What?” Ava’s eyes go big. “Why?”

  “Go.” Ma is firm. “I need to talk to Bryan. Alone.”

 
Whew! I am so lucky because Ma is all about talking.

  She wants to know if the letter from school is true. She wants to know if I cut, who I cut with. She wants to know where I went when I wasn’t in school. She tells me how sick to her stomach it makes her feel that she doesn’t know where in the world I was when the whole time she thought I was safe in school. “Someone could’ve snatched you up. You could be dead.”

  I picture Mike. I remember him saying he told Little Kevin if he snitched, Little Kevin would catch a beatdown.

  I look at Ma’s eyes water up. I just want her to be happy and here I am doing this to her. She hunches over with her face in her hands and starts crying. Yo! She’s sobbing hard for real.

  Ava peeks out, sees Ma, and mouths to me, I hate you.

  “I HATE YOU TOO!” I yell at Ava.

  Ma’s head snaps up. “Ava!”

  Ava pokes her head back in her door and slams it.

  “Mike.” I whisper that to Ma without realizing it. Then I stop myself. I can’t hit her with everything. The way she is right now, she’d have a heart attack and die.

  “Mike?” Ma wipes tears from her cheeks.

  I nod. “We cut those times. Just to chill on the roof.”

  “Our roof?”

  “Yeah,” I lie. Ma knows folks all over our projects because of her job. If people have complained of kids throwing rocks at cars from roofs and I tell Ma we’ve been on mad roofs, she’ll know it was Mike and that I was with him.

  Ma takes a deep breath in. “You and him doing anything? Anything I should know about?”

  I shake my head. “Like?”

  “Smoking. Drinking. Anything a middle-school boy shouldn’t do?”

  “Nah, never,” I tell her and that part’s the truth. Then everything else we’ve done flashes in my mind. Hopping train-station turnstiles. The different neighborhoods. Train-surfing and . . . “We just chill upstairs and draw,” I say, “and read comics. That’s it. Because school is dead.”

  “What?”