Push Comes to Shove

by Oasis

  “Nine thousand square feet is a lot of house. What do you plan on doing with it?”

  “This is where my family and I are gonna enjoy life.”

  Later that afternoon, GP met with Nancy Pittman in her downtown office. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” He sat in a comfortable leather chair facing her desk.

  “What brings you here?”

  “I’m in a position now where I can help someone else out.”

  “Congratulations. I’ve been following your story in the paper.”

  “Thank you. Samone and Denise. I want them to come and live with us.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Samone Jefferson is no longer in the care of the state. Her sister turned eighteen and came for her. Denise Holcut is another story. She’s a troubled kid who’s more than likely going to move from group home to jail. I hate to say it, but I’ve seen it before. I’m not sure you want to invite the problem she’s bound to bring into your home.”

  “So you’re willing to throw her away and let jail be her fate? You’re not even willing to offer her a more constructive alternative?”

  “All I’m saying is that she’s been around. Denise has the body of a little girl, but she was forced to grow up a long time ago. If I were you, I wouldn’t want her around my children. You’re asking for trouble.”

  He fixed her with a stern look. “I know Denise’s kind better than your files, statistics, and reports. I used to be her and look how I turned out. I don’t deserve a Nobel Prize or no shit like that, but I’m a decent man. I have values and I’m integrity-driven. All Denise needs is someone who is willing to direct her energy in a positive direction. She just needs someone who will love her. My family and I are willing to do that. Will you deny us that?”

  “If you insist on planting a weed in your garden, I’ll do the paperwork. I think it’s a bad idea, though.”

  “She isn’t a weed. Her flower is just taking a little longer to blossom than others.”

  “Have it your way, Mr. Patterson.”

  Aubrey Stevens shut his computer off and was preparing to leave the bank for the day.

  A stout man who worked in the mailroom poked his head inside the office. “Looks like I caught you in the nick of time. I have a package here for you.” He sat the box on the desk and left.

  Aubrey searched the package for a return address. There wasn’t one. He laid his suit jacket over the arm of his chair and began to tear the packaging tape from the box. He opened the box and saw a typed letter sitting on top of bundles of money. He took the letter, sank in his chair, and began to read.

  Mr. Stevens:

  I made a very large withdrawal from your fine bank some time ago. Once again, I’d like to thank you. Without your assistance, it would not have been possible for me to repair my life.

  Enclosed you will find the entire $670,000 withdrawal, plus the current interest. Please forgive me for the scare I caused you. Unfortunately, sometimes push comes to shove.

  Mr. Wagoner

  It had been a month since the Pattersons’ lives had taken a turn for the best. Kitchie stood in her stainless steel and marble kitchen, gazing through the window at Junior zipping through the backyard. She went out on the patio and waved him over.

  The minibike rushed toward Kitchie. Its engine became louder as it approached the house. Junior mashed the rear brake, sending the minibike into a three-foot skid. He took the helmet off. “Huh, Ma?”

  “Do you have to ride that thing like that? You don’t have to go so fast, boy.”

  “Wait until I learn how to pop a wheelie.”

  “And that’s exactly when I’m gonna make you ride a regular bike. So my advice to you is keep both tires on the ground.”

  “Okay.”

  “Turn it off and come inside. Your father just came in with Secret’s present, and the show will be on in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, Ma, one more spin.”

  “Park it and come inside now.”

  Junior put the kickstand down and turned the engine off.

  GP carried a large box with a blue ribbon attached to it down a corridor on the house’s left wing. The corridor led to a state-of-the-art theater room with the seating capacity of forty-eight. He set the box down and poked his head into the theater and overheard Secret and Nise talking.

  Nise lounged in a theater chair next to Secret. “Would you feel some type of way if I called GP and Mrs. P. Mom and Dad?”

  Secret stared for a moment. “We all agreed to invite you into our family. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was a punk and being all mushy. But that day you helped Junior and me, you became my sister for life. I told all my friends you’re my sister. You’re family, so if you’re comfortable with Mom and Dad, I don’t mind.”

  Nise reached over and hugged her. “That means a lot to me. Thanks. I never had a mom or dad or a little sister or brother.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird. I’ve always been Junior’s big sister; now I have a big sister. None of that bullying stuff, though.”

  “Shit…I mean shoot. I learned my lesson a long time ago. I got a tough little sister. So what are we gonna do for the weekend when Samone comes to visit?”

  Secret crossed her legs. “Ma said we can have an all-girl’s day. Go shopping at the mall and get our hair done.”

  “What are you going to wear? I’m thinking about rocking my new Claiborne outfit with those Nine West shoes your mother picked out.”

  “Our mother.”

  Nise smiled.

  “That’ll be tight, though,” Secret said. “I might wear Burberry from head to toe. I don’t know yet; I might decide to wear something else from my wardrobe.”

  Kitchie tapped GP on the shoulder. “Eavesdropping on the girls?”

  GP shut the door. “No. Well, kind of.” He looked at Junior. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “He’s mad because I made him get off of his motorcycle.”

  “Straighten your face, little man. You can ride later.” GP picked up the box and addressed Kitchie. “You bring it?”

  She tapped her pocket. “She’s right here.”

  “Good.” He pushed the door open and led them into the theater. “Special delivery for a Ms. Secret Patterson.”

  Secret’s eyes lit up as she marveled over the big pretty box in her father’s hand. “What is it?”

  Kitchie lifted her shoulders. “Your father and I found it at the front gate with your name on it.”

  GP pinched her cheek. “Open it.”

  Nise nudged her. “Girl, hurry up.”

  Secret dropped to her knees and unraveled the bow. She lifted the lid and a puppy poked its head out. “He’s mine?” She picked it up. “It’s so cute.”

  “What kind is it?” Nise asked, looking at the brown and white dog. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

  “Me either.” Junior took a closer look.

  “It’s a Basenji.” Kitchie removed the nicotine patch from Nise’s arm and replaced it with another.

  “Thanks, Mommy.”

  Everybody looked at Nise. She blushed and Kitchie hugged her.

  Secret turned to her father while rubbing the tiny puppy. “What’s a Basenji dog?”

  “It’s the only dog in the world that doesn’t bark.”

  “I knew it,” Junior said. “That ain’t no dog. It’s a cat. Any dog that doesn’t bark is a punk.”

  “You’re a punk.”

  “Not like you and your cat-dog, sissy.”

  “That’s enough.” GP scowled at Junior. “Now, there’s something else I want everybody to see. Well…I should have said somebody else. Where is she, Mami?”

  Kitchie removed a ring box from her pocket and flipped it open. The 3.12-carat diamond was brilliant. It caught the overhead dome lights and glowed with life.

  Everyone stared with astonishment at the yellow diamond.

  “It’s so pretty, Daddy.” There was a twinkle dancing about Secret’s
eyes.

  “But I thought you wanted us to see somebody.” Nise looked at GP, then Kitchie.

  “Yeah, that is a ring.” Junior touched the puppy’s wet nose.

  “This is your Aunty Jewels,” GP said.

  Secret’s eyes filled with tears.

  Junior’s brows furrowed. “It’s Aunty?”

  “This is a little too weird for me.” Nise took the puppy from Secret’s arms and sat down.

  Kitchie draped an arm over each one of her children. “It’s going to be hard for you to understand now, but your aunty wanted this. You know how some people are turned into ashes when they pass, like Aunty Jewels?”

  Secret blinked a tear loose. “Yeah.”

  “Now it’s a way to turn people’s ashes into real diamonds.” GP wiped away Secret’s tears. “Now Aunty Jewels is with us forever.”

  “I’m not sure I understand, Daddy.” Junior looked at the ring once more.

  “You will one day.”

  Kitchie glanced at her watch, then dimmed the lights. “Come on, we’re about to miss the movie.” She pointed a remote control at the control center.

  A 120-inch screen came to life. It turned navy blue, then bright yellow as a drug-prevention commercial came to an end.

  GP smiled at Jewels when the Street Prophet: A World Premiere stood out in bold letters across the screen. It took months for the project to come together, and for GP, it was definitely a dream come true.

  “You did it, Papi.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Oasis is the award-winning author of Duplicity. He is the

  CEO of Docuversion, a full-service editing firm, and an expert

  creative writing instructor. He is a native of Cleveland, Ohio,

  and a proud father. For more information on Oasis,

  visit www.oasisnovels.com

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. As a child, GP was abused by Mr. Reynolds. Why was it that, as an adult, GP still allowed Mr. Reynolds to torment him in the recesses of his mind? Is this a form of self-defeating behavior?

  2. GP was offered a job with the Plain Dealer newspaper. Was it a selfish act to turn down the job when he had the responsibilities of father and husband? Should priorities always precede integrity?

  3. Was Kitchie’s mother, Mrs. Garcia, right or wrong in her position of not taking Secret and Junior in during their time of need, predicated on her disapproval of GP and Kitchie’s relationship? Explain.

  4. It’s obvious, due to Jewels’s mentality, that she had a different idea of how children should be raised. How did her influence affect Secret and Junior? How did that influence affect her relationship with Kitchie?

  5. Should Kitchie have taken it upon herself to use force with Conrad Tharp over the money he’d duped her out of? Should she have handled the situation differently? How?

  6. Share your insight on the statement Secret made when she said, “Once you know something, you’re held accountable for what you know.”

  7. Should children have homosexual role models? With Jewels as a role model, was Secret at risk of becoming curious about same-sex relationships? Explain your position.

  8. Should Kitchie have accepted money from Desmond? Why? What was the best way for her to handle this situation? Why?

  9. There will obviously be times when adults will have to discipline children, as in Mr. Reynolds’s case. What are the acceptable guidelines when administering discipline? When does discipline become abuse?

  10. GP responded irrationally when he heard a couple having sex in the apartment above Jewels’s, having assumed that one of the participants was his wife. How should he have responded to this situation?

  11. If Mayor Brandon Chambers was so concerned about Secret and Junior, as he portrayed to be, do you believe that he should have taken more initiative in making sure to drop them off in the care of an adult? Why? Was his decision based on self-preservation?

  12. Did Jewels go too far when stepping outside the boundaries of the law when she sentenced Mr. Reynolds? Why?

  13. In Miles’ situation, would you have told your mother if you had been indirectly responsible for your sibling’s disappearance? Explain.

  14. GP once took the position that his stealing was justified when there was no other solution. Is there ever a right time to do the wrong thing? Explain.

  15. What are the pros and cons of GP and Kitchie welcoming Denise into their home?

  16. In your opinion, will Desmond take the money and leave things be, or do you think we’ll be hearing more from him? Explain.

  17. Is it vain to have a loved one’s cremated remains turned into a diamond?

  AUTHOR’S EXIT

  The apple of my eye, JaVenna. You are my ideas, hopes, desires, moral obligations personified. You are more woman than I would even dare pray for. You have enriched my existence, added new color and meaning to my world, and supported and believed in me effortlessly. Girl, to you I humbly extend my eternal gratitude for blessing little ole me with your presence this lifetime. Your love is awe-inspiring. (Okay, right now I’m down on my knee, gazing into your eyes.) Baby, I love you with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, showing you. Caring for you and protecting you. Will you make my dreams come true and continue this journey with me as my wife?

  I am very thankful for everyone who contributed their talents and skills in order to make Push Comes To Shove a reality. Specifically, Brenda Hampton, Zane and Docuversion.

  Of equal measure, I thank my family (Williams, Myrieckes, Smith and the Harris boys), knowing I have people like you in my corner is all the encouragement I need to write just one more page.

  And to my amazing readers, I swear none of this would be possible without you. Thanks for holding me down.

  Oasis

  Fort Dix, New Jersey

  July, 2010

  Oasisreader@oasisnovels.com

  IF YOU ENJOYED “PUSH COMES TO SHOVE,”

  PLEASE CHECK OUT

  Duplicity

  BY OASIS

  AVAILABLE FROM STREBOR BOOKS INTERNATIONAL

  Chapter 1

  Parrish Clovis awoke naked on his neighbor’s lawn. He was stretched out beside a mountain of Rottweiler shit. He absolutely had no idea of how he’d managed to be spooning with dog crap. He scrunched up his stubbled face at the tangy smell. He distinctly remembered climbing into bed last night and screwing his wife into a frenzy. This change of location, he couldn’t explain. In fact, a lot of absurd and peculiar things had occurred lately that he couldn’t explain.

  He glanced at his bandaged hand. He still hadn’t figured out how he’d fractured three fingers, either. One thing, though: he was grateful that daybreak was just approaching, and that his ass hadn’t been busted. The thought of explaining this bout of bizarre behavior to anyone embarrassed him.

  Parrish turned up his nose at the rotten stench again, pulled himself to his feet, and trudged to the fence that divided the yards, his hands covering his sacred parts. When he hurdled the fence, his wife swung open the back door of their home.

  Hana looked at him with disdain. “This is absolutely ridiculous.” Her Hungarian accent was intense, matching her glare.

  “Don’t start, Hana. I’m really, really not in the mood. I smell like dog poop.” He stalked by her. “I hate that dog.”

  “The enforcements are coming.”

  “You called the cops?” He sighed. “Shouldn’t have done that, Han.”

  “My anxiety has been agitated all night.” She followed him through the house. “Last time you showed up—”

  “I don’t need reminding.”

  “You swore everything was under control.” She looked at the pieces of grass that clung to his brown ass. “You’re nude. That’s miles away from control.”

  He froze in his tracks and turned his head to a painting that decorated the wall of their staircase. A line creased between his brows. “Where did this come from?”

  “You brought it home two days p
rior. Monday.” Tears streaked her beautiful face. “Don’t you remember?”

  A stolen UPS truck plowed toward its destination. Ace, the driver, was a colossus man. Six-foot-eight with a stony, pale face and hands the size of baseball mitts. He had a balding crown that peeled because of a constant thrashing from the sun. He smashed his size 16s against the gas pedal and put an eye on his passenger. “You are right about me; I am not a good man,” the giant spoke, slow and without contractions. “It is true; I only joined the Rangers so I could kill people for free.”

  The passenger chuckled. “You didn’t need the military. Y’all white folks been getting away with murder for centuries.”

  “The military was my gymnasium to practice in.” Ace thumped a finger against the steering wheel. “Pop, and the enemy goes down. You are still sore that you did not beat me; could not beat me.”

  “I didn’t kick your big ass because this trick knee gave out on me.” The passenger rubbed his knee and thought back to the day Ace had taken advantage of the injury and pinned him to a mat in front of his platoon. “You don’t feel good about the way you won the trophy.”

  “We are fifteen years away from the Rangers…Sergeant Lindsay, but it is never too late for a rematch. Fighting makes my dick hard.” Ace parked curbside at an expensive home. He placed a toupee on his chapped, bald spot and patted it.

  “Ace, I will fuck you up,” the retired sergeant said, handing Ace a package. “Now, do what the fuck I’m paying you to do.”

  “Two wrongs don’t make it even, justify it, or make it right.” Parrish shut CNN off, disgusted. “They’re going to execute that brother no matter what. So what, they found him guilty? The conviction is iffy. People don’t have the permission to decide who should live and who should die.” He gazed through the window at his neighbor’s yard and wondered about last night.

  “Tookie Williams deserves the death penalty,” Hana said, refilling her husband’s favorite Garfield mug with coffee. “He actually did horrible things, Parrish.”