To Be a Man

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To Be a Man Page 8

by Anne Schraff


  “You really moving out of the apartment and going back to live with your parents, Vanessa?” Trevor asked.

  “I’m half moved already, Trevor,” the girl responded. “I don’t have much stuff. I travel light. My dad’s gonna come and pick me up.”

  “Your parents okay with you coming home, huh? Like they forgave you and stuff?” Trevor asked.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “They deserve a better daughter than me. They’ve been wonderful, Trevor. They’re so glad I’m coming home. It’s gonna be good, Trevor. See, my big mistake was in looking up to Dena. I was the kid sister and everything she did seemed so cool, like dumping school, hanging out with creepy people who smoked dope. But I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Well, maybe later on we can get together again, Vanessa,” Trevor suggested.

  “And I’ll make it up to you, Trevor,” Vanessa promised. “I’ll get my GED, and I’ll be the person you thought I was.”

  “Okay Vanessa,” Trevor said. “Let me just have a little space. I got a track meet coming up and I want to concentrate on that. We’ll talk in a couple days, okay?”

  “Okay, sure,” Vanessa agreed. “Just so I know you don’t hate me.”

  “I could never hate you,” Trevor said.

  Trevor resumed jogging toward home. Before he got all the way there, he noticed Marko Lane coming up behind him.

  “We’re closing in on the Lincoln meet, huh?” Trevor said when Marko caught up, but he kept jogging. “I hope it’s not hot and muggy like it is today.”

  Marko ignored the comment. There was a nasty grin on his face. “Hey Trevor, I know who your hot chick is. Vanessa Allen. Girl who works with her at the Ice House gave us all the gory details. She’s some chick, boy. You always were girl shy ’cause of your mean mama, but once you busted out you really went for a smokin’ babe. No wonder her red lipstick was all over your face.”

  “Ma’s not mean, just strict,” Trevor corrected Marko.

  “She whups you, right?” Marko said. “My mom never whupped me once.”

  Trevor thought to himself that maybe Mrs. Lane should have whupped Marko a few times. Then maybe he wouldn’t be such a cruel jerk. Maybe he wouldn’t be taunting other kids all the time or disrupting Mr. Pippin’s English class. “You get away with murder, dude,” Trevor told him. “Somebody shoulda reined you in a long time ago.”

  Marko laughed. “Nobody messes with me, not even my parents. They know better. But one time I was passing your house and you were cryin’ like a little girl ’cause your ma was after you with the broom. She’s big as a man and tougher than most men. I think she could whup anyone who messed with her.”

  “What happens in my family is none of your business, Marko,” Trevor finally snapped.

  “Your mama know you got a hot chick on the line, dude?” Marko asked with a taunting sneer dancing on his mouth.

  “Yeah, sure she does,” Trevor lied.

  “I bet she don’t have a clue,” Marko said. “I bet if she found out her little boy was playing with a babe like Vanessa Allen, she’d get that old belt out and she’d whup you good. You wouldn’t be able to sit down for a month, boy.”

  Trevor stopped short and turned to face Marko, who also stopped next to him. “Where’re you going with this, Marko? What’s this all about?”

  “I’m not going to tell your mama, Trevor,” Marko promised. “I don’t do stuff like that to my bros. And we’re friends, right? I ain’t telling her how you had this chick’s lipstick all over your face that night. That’d make your ma want to get an even bigger belt to whup you with. But, no, I ain’t blowing your cover, dude. But since I’m not telling your mama secrets like that, I’m thinking maybe you’ll do something nice for me.” Marko got a glint in his eyes. The smile danced on his mouth again, like a snake writhing around his teeth.

  “What are you talking about, man?” Trevor asked.

  “Next week we got that meet at Lincoln,” Marko started to explain. “My daddy and some of his big shot friends and business associates are coming to see his son—his only son—run the hundred-meter and win. Lincoln guys are weak in that event, so it’ll be going to Tubman for sure. Questions is, who wins—you or me? Walker and Malloy are gonna run in another event, so it’s you and me against each other and against Lincoln. My dad told all his friends I was the fastest on the team, that I’m bound for the Olympics. I wanna win the hundredmeter event, dude, simple as that. I just seen you run and you can take me out if you run as fast that day. I don’t want my father disappointed. You hear what I’m saying?”

  “Marko, you are one slimy jerk,” Trevor told him.

  “Hey dude, I’m just thinking of you, don’t you see?” Marko weaseled. “I don’t want to see you whupped by your big mama. Dude, she gets mad enough, she could end up killing you, maybe maiming you for life. Doing you great bodily harm.”

  “I’ve always run my best in every event I’ve been in, and this won’t be any different,” Trevor declared.

  “You can run your best in the relay, man,” Marko said. “You’ll help Tubman win in the relay. But just ease up a bit in the hundred meters. That’s all I’m asking, dude. Just don’t run like you did today for Coach Curry. I never seen you run like that, and if you do it on Wednesday you’re gonna beat me, most likely, and bring great sorrow and shame to the Lane family. You know what my father is gonna feel like if he’s embarrassed in front of all his friends?”

  “I don’t care about the man and his stupid gold chains and him thinking he’s better than everybody else,” Trevor said.

  “Don’t dis my daddy, sucka,” Marko warned. “My daddy’s a great man. Your father is a drunk bum. He goes around begging for change so he can buy rotgut liquor.”

  Trevor didn’t even like his own father, but Marko’s words still irked him. They were low and cruel. Trevor wished he could punch the sneer off Marko’s face, but Trevor was never a fighter. In all his years in school, Trevor never got into a fight. He always walked away from conflict or insults. But now he was filled with red hot rage. To hear Marko mocking his father was like pouring salt on the wound. Trevor wished he were more like Jaris, or Kevin, or Oliver, because they would take Marko on. But he wasn’t.

  Marko laughed, seeing the frustration on Trevor’s face. “You wanna fight me, dude, but you ain’t got the guts. You’re too much of a coward. That’s because your mama has beaten all the fight outta you. You’re so afraid of that woman that you’d crawl over red hot coals rather than make her mad at you. You just remember that on Wednesday. When you want to fly past me on that track and make me look bad in front of my daddy, you remember how much afraid of her you are. You just think how she’s gonna feel when I tell her about your smokin’ babe.” Marko laughed and then jogged off in another direction.

  When Marko was out of sight, Trevor sat down on an old fallen tree. He put his face in his hands. He didn’t know how he felt. As much as he hated to admit it, some of what Marko said was true. Ma had whipped all the fight out of him.

  Trevor couldn’t stand up to his own mother and say, “Ma, I love you, but you’re wrong. You’re wrong in trying to make me wear a straitjacket and not experience anything of life. All that’s done. I’m not gonna be afraid of you anymore.” But that was all a fantasy. He knew he wouldn’t do it.

  Kevin Walker came along then, on his way home.

  “Hey Trevor, you call her?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I did. I told her what you said. I told her to give me some time,” Trevor replied.

  “She okay with that?” Kevin asked.

  “Yeah, she was good with it. I told her I’d call her in a couple days,” Trevor answered.

  Trevor looked at Kevin Walker. He was a handsome, muscular boy. Trevor had a friendly, bland face, the kind of a face that wouldn’t scare anybody. He looked like he was about to smile most of the time. Kevin was good looking but in a dark and moody way. You could see something smoldering in his eyes, and you didn’t want to add any gasoline to the fire
, because you could get burned bad. Kevin looked as if he’d never been afraid in his life. Trevor said, “Hey Kevin, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” Kevin agreed.

  “You ever been afraid, man? I mean, have a gut-choking fear?” Trevor asked.

  Kevin didn’t wait long to answer. “Yeah, I was scared they’d find out here at school that my father killed a man. I was afraid that everybody would turn against me if they knew that. It didn’t happen. My friends were great about it. Only one I had trouble with was Marko Lane. Sometimes I think he’s not even human. I think he’s a slimy swamp snake, you know, a shape-shifter. Maybe he just took on the appearance of a human.”

  “Was that your worst fear ever, Kevin?” Trevor asked. “I mean, have you ever been afraid of a person?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been afraid of a person,” Kevin told him. “Me. I’m more afraid of me than I’m afraid of anybody else. It scares me that some day I’ll lose it, and I’ll do like my father did. I’ll hurt somebody bad. I never want to do that.”

  “Kevin, I need to tell you something,” Trevor said. “Today Marko, he came along and told me his father is expecting him to win the hundred meter on Wednesday. He said if I didn’t throw the race, he’d tell my mom about Vanessa. I’m afraid he’ll make it sound real wild, so Ma thinks we’re hot and heavy, you know.”

  “Dude,” Kevin chided him, “did you hear what Jaris said? You need to tell your mom about Vanessa right away. Come right out and tell her. And when Wednesday comes, you run like the wind. Don’t let the snake win, dude. Don’t let him take away your manhood. Let me tell you something, man. As soon as you show your mom strength, she’s gonna back off. Right now she thinks you’re weak. So she’s gotta be strong. She thinks you don’t have the strength to be a man. You tell her you’re gonna make her proud because you’re gonna be a good, strong man, only she’s got to back off and let you be that man.”

  When Trevor got home, Tommy was listening to rap music. He never listened when Ma was around, but he liked it. “It’s only talking with a beat,” he told people who dissed his taste in music.

  “Tommy,” Trevor announced, “I got an idea. Ma was so thrilled when Jaris’s mother took her to that nice breakfast. Why don’t we surprise Ma this Sunday and go to church with her, then take her to a nice restaurant for lunch? Ma never gets to have any fun, and she’d really love that. We don’t go to church much, Tommy, and she’d get a kick out of us hearing her sing in the praise choir. She really belts out those hymns.”

  Tommy grinned. “Good idea! When we go marching with her into the Holiness Awakening Church, she’s gonna be so proud. Seeing her two boys sitting there—what a blast. And then we’ll find a really good restaurant.”

  “Ma’s spent her whole life eating plain old food,” Trevor said. “Like that tasteless chicken and peas and corn casserole. We can find a place where the food is awesome. Like you remember how she couldn’t stop talking about those French pancakes with the strawberries and whipped cream she had with Jaris’s mom. She’d never even seen French pancakes before, and she’s fortyfive years old.”

  “Maybe a good Mexican restaurant,” Tommy suggested.

  “She likes Mexican food, but it’d be too much like those dollar burritos she gets,” Trevor replied. “It has to be more special.”

  “There’s a place over on the beach,” Tommy said. “Jaris took his dad there on Father’s Day. Jaris said it was really good. They serve this macadamia-crusted halibut and the roast beef is really tender and tasty. Jaris said it was the best meal they’ve ever had. It’s called Ye Olde Boathouse.”

  “Yeah,” Trevor said, smiling, “that sounds more like it. I know Ma never had macadamia-crusted halibut!”

  “And Ma could look out over the bay while she’s eating, and that’d be special too,” Tommy added.

  “It’d cost maybe around a hundred bucks for the three of us,” Trevor figured, “and that includes the tip. And maybe we both could just order water. I could handle my half. I’ve been making money at the Chicken Shack, and I’ve saved some.”

  “Okay, Tommy agreed. “We’ll surprise the daylights out of Ma on Sunday morning. Sunday morning always comes and there we are, laying like lumps in our beds while Ma is putting on her good dress for church. Ma feels bad about that. But this Sunday we’ll be up and at ’em early, getting dressed up and wanting to go to church. I’ll wash and wax my car, and instead of riding with the church ladies, she can drive up with her two boys. And then, as we’re leaving church, and Ma is thinking she’s gonna go home and make that awful casserole for us, we spring it on her about the restaurant. And we drive over to the beach and pull up at the ritzy restaurant where she’s never been.”

  It dawned on Trevor that the last time he and Tommy, along with Junior who was home then, took their mother to a restaurant, it was to a fast-food joint for fish and chips. And that was over a year ago. A year.

  Trevor thought that if all went well on Sunday, he might tell his mother in the afternoon about Vanessa. He would assure her it was nothing serious, just hanging out once in a while. Just friends who talk. Trevor thought the plan just might work. After the praise choir, and the macadamia-crusted halibut and the tender roast beef, the timing just might be right.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What’s got into you boys?” Ma asked on Sunday morning. “Most times you sleepin’ like logs, and now you gettin’ all washed up. You usually dead to the world with the devil whisperin’ in your ear to never mind church goin’. What’re you gettin’ spruced up for on a Sunday mornin’?”

  “We’re going to church with you, Ma,” Tommy announced.

  “Right,” Trevor said.

  “My goodness!” Ma exclaimed. “You boys ain’t looked so nice since we went to Aunt Hattie’s funeral last year! Pastor Bromley is gonna be so surprised. He always so delighted to see the young folks in church.” There was a spring to Ma’s step that Trevor rarely saw and a happy lilt to her voice. He doubted that anything he and Tommy could have done would have made her happier than accompanying her to church.

  “And we’re gonna ride in my car,” Tommy declared. “I washed and waxed it especially for you, Ma.”

  “My goodness, is it Christmas or something?” Ma asked. “I been working so hard I clean forgot what day it is. It must be Christmas!”

  Pastor Bromley greeted the Jenkins family warmly. Trevor and Tommy sat up front where the praise choir sang. Ma put on her beautiful blue choir robe and looked like a different person. The boys were used to seeing their mother in her faded old clothes, but now she looked queenly standing there with the other members of the choir.

  After services, Mickey Jenkins remarked, “Well, this has been a lovely morning boys. Now back to the real world at home.”

  “No Ma,” Trevor objected. “We’re not done yet. We’re going down to the bay and having lunch at the Ye Olde Boathouse. It’s on us, Ma—me and Tommy.”

  “I must be dreamin’,” Ma said in astonishment.

  “No,” Tommy told her, “we were talking, Trevor and me, and it’s been too long since we took you out Ma. Me and my baby brother thought it was past time you had a nice lunch at a good place.”

  When they were seated in the restaurant, Mickey Jenkins looked around as if she had landed on another planet. The walls were knotty pine and richly decorated with the hull of an old ship, anchors, and treasures of the sea.

  “Boys, this must be costin’ you an arm and a leg,” Ma fretted. “You shouldna picked such a fancy place.”

  “No Ma,” Tommy said. “We got it all figured out. No problem.”

  Ma loved the macadamia-crusted halibut and the roast beef. “I never knew fish could taste so good,” she raved. “It don’ taste nothin’ like the tuna we get in the cans.”

  Trevor laughed. “You’re telling me, Ma,” he agreed, remembering all the ugly sandwiches with the mayonnaise making the bread soggy.

  Trevor had planned to break the news to this mother about Vane
ssa when the church services and lunch were over. He thought Ma would be in such a good mood that she’d take it better. Trevor hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time.

  To possibly spoil her beautiful day seemed almost wicked. So Trevor decided to let this day pass without bringing any clouds to blot out his mother’s sunshine.

  On the way home, Ma was more sentimental than Trevor had seen her perhaps ever. “Y’know, boys, when I was havin’ you babies, one after another, I was tellin’ the Lord to give me healthy children. My own mama lost two babies under two. They were born sickly. I told the Lord if He give me healthy children, I will raise them right. I know I ain’t been perfect, but I look at you four boys . . . I mean especially on a day like today, I think of the four of you, and I’m so thankful and proud. So many of the girls I went to school with . . . they got children in prison. They got children dead of drug overdoses. I feel so blessed.”

  Trevor recalled the other night when he drove the getaway car. That one mistake could have destroyed everything. If it had been a robbery gone sour, all Ma’s joy in her youngest son would have been forever dashed. One mistake. One small mistake.

  Trevor called Vanessa when he got home. He told her about the nice day with his mother. “So how are you doing, Vanessa?” he asked her.

  “I’m home, Trevor,” she reported. “Dena’s mad at me for leaving her with the whole rent to pay, but I don’t care. I feel like this is the best thing I’ve done in a long time, and it’s because of you. If you hadn’t talked to me so strong, I wouldn’t have had the courage to come home.”

  “I’m glad,” Trevor replied. “My friends—Jaris and the gang—are planning a beach party pretty soon. All the girls will be there too. I’d like for you to meet them all. So when it gets closer, I’ll call you.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Vanessa said. “I can’t wait to see you again, Trevor.”

 

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