Tyrel shook him and drove him back hard into the wall again. “Or what, nigga?”
Will looked at Tyrel, as Tyrel glared back at him.
“You wanna test me, nigga?” Tyrel seethed.
“I’m sayin’, man,” Will said. “Just let my shit go.”
Brian shook his head. He could see the temper rising behind Will’s eyes, while steam was already spilling from the top of Tyrel’s head. In another second, things were going to go from bad to worse, and although Will had a nasty temper and could hold his own, he was no match for Tyrel.
He had to break it up.
“Yo, T, son, let him go,” he said, stepping forward and placing his hand on Tyrel’s shoulder.
His eyes still fixed on Will, Tyrel said, “This nigga said your name, son.”
Brian looked at Will. “I know, man, but I ain’t the only Brian around here. It was fuckin’ stupid, but it’s cool. It ain’t worth getting into no shit over.”
Will and Tyrel continued to stare one another down.
“Come on, son. Let him go. That’s your boy.”
Tyrel gritted his teeth, and then, after a few tense seconds, let go of Will’s collar. “Yeah, a’ight.” He looked at Brian. “We boys,” he said. Then he turned back to Will. “Nigga, don’t ever pull some shit like that again, you feel me?”
“I feel you,” Will said regrettably. Then he looked at Brian. “Yo, my bad, son. It just slipped out, for real.”
Brian nodded, then reached out and gave his boy a pound. “It’s cool,” he said.
“Make sure nothin’ like that slips out again,” Tyrel said.
“Yeah, a’ight,” Will replied. “My bad, for real, son. I was trippin’. We cool?”
Tyrel looked at him for a short second, and then nodded. “We cool.”
The two friends exchanged a one-armed hug.
“A’ight,” Tyrel said when they parted. “Let’s count this shit and be on our way.”
After splitting $500, far less than what Tyrel had promised, they all went to Shawn’s party, where Carla, who had found a way to get out of going to church with her mother, was waiting for Brian.
Frustrated over the stress they’d gone through for that little bit of money, Brian was glad to see her. He moved away from Will and Tyrel, and approached her. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, as Jay-Z blasted from the speakers.
Carla looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Hello to you too.”
Brian smiled. “My bad.” He pulled her close and gave her a kiss with a lot of tongue. “Hello,” he said after a few seconds.
Carla smiled. “That’s better. So what you wanna leave for? You just got here.”
“I’m not in the mood,” Brian answered.
“You don’t wanna dance?” Carla asked.
“Nah,” Brian said flatly. “I just wanna chill.”
Carla looked into his eyes and could see that something was bothering him. She knew he got into things from time to time with Will and Tyrel, but she never asked for specifics. “OK,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go. My mother will be at church for at least another two hours.”
Brian smiled and stirred in his jeans. “Sounds like a plan,” he said.
5
Deahnna opened her eyes, stretched, and then took a glance over at her alarm clock. As was always the case, she was ahead of the alarm by fifteen minutes. She stretched again, feeling her calves and shoulders pop, and then reached across her night table and flipped off the switch on her clock. Her body’s internal clock always woke her every morning at 6:00 A.M., no matter what time she went to bed. Setting the alarm clock—a clock she’d paid too damned much for—hadn’t been necessary, but on the off chance that her body demanded more sleep, she continued to do it.
She took a final stretch, and then swung her legs off of the bed. It was Saturday. Her cleaning day. Her two-bedroom apartment was never really messy, but because she spent the majority of her weekly hours going between two jobs, she had just enough time—and, more importantly, energy—to tidy during the week. Just as they had been for her mother, Deahnna always devoted Saturday mornings to cleaning from top to bottom. Sweeping, dusting, wiping, vacuuming, washing, scrubbing, scraping; dust, mold, grease, and grime were all dealt with in a major way.
Deahnna yawned, and then rose from her queen-sized bed, grabbed her silk kimono from the hook on her closet door, and made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She applied toothpaste to her Sonic toothbrush, turned on the water, and paused as she caught a glimpse of a pair of slightly slanted dark brown eyes staring back at her from the mirror.
Deahnna sighed.
The average person would stare into the mirror and see exactly what she was—a very young-looking thirty-two-year-old. The average person wouldn’t see the wrinkles creeping away from the corners of her eyes, the ever so faint stress lines running across her forehead. The average person wouldn’t see the sadness, the pain she’d endured. The average person wouldn’t see the years of struggling, of doing what she had to do to get by for herself and her son. The average person wouldn’t see the disappointment.
Life was supposed to be different, she thought. So very different. But circumstances and challenges had arisen to chase dreams away. Deahnna wouldn’t change the outcome of those circumstances if given the chance, but she damn sure would have delayed them for about six or seven years.
She expelled a breath again.
Things, and the decisions she’d had to make, weren’t ideal, but they were necessary to make life what it was, which, compared to a lot of other people she knew, was golden. But despite the way things were, Deahnna was determined to see them change. She just had to grin and bear the hurdles in her path. It wasn’t easy, and some days were better than others, but slowly, and surely, she would see things change.
They just had to.
She sighed again, and then turned on her toothbrush and got rid of the plaque and morning breath. She washed her face, and then after inspecting and clearing a small pimple on her cheek, she went to the kitchen and put on some hot water to boil for a morning cup of tea. As the water boiled, she went back to her bedroom. On her way, she paused outside of her son’s closed bedroom door.
She was tempted to open it and wake him up to make him clean the filth she knew was inside, but she decided to cut him some slack and give him another hour of sleep. She was sure he needed it, as he’d undoubtedly been up ’til God knew what time, playing his Xbox.
She smiled as she thought about her son. A positive to come from a very negative situation, his existence had been unplanned, but never unwanted. Well, not by her, anyway. She loved her son. Had from the first moment she laid eyes on him. He was her best friend, her confidant, her protector, just as she was his.
Within the past couple of years, things had become strained between them, but Deahnna knew that had to do with his yearning to fly away from the nest, and her desire to keep him there safe. In time, she supposed, that would pass. Or hoped it would.
She put her palm lightly on his door and thought about the times when he refused to sleep in his own bed. Things were harder back then, but he hadn’t known it. He also hadn’t known that he provided the only source of light in her world for her to see. She wanted to push his door open and rush to his bed, dig him out from beneath his New York Giants comforter, wrap her arms around him, and wet his cheek with kisses. But, of course, she knew her outpouring of love would be met with a “Come on, Mom!” and a quick nosedive for safety, back beneath the comforter.
That made her smile. And it also made her wrap her hand around the doorknob. She began to turn it. And then paused as the front door opened.
She turned her head to see the son she had just known was sleeping soundly in his room walk into the apartment.
“What the hell?” She let go of the doorknob. “Brian, what are you doing walking in here right now?”
Brian sighed, and as the door closed behind him, he said, “Mom—�
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But his mother cut him off. “I don’t see any bags in your hand, but you better tell me that you just came from the store.”
“Mom—”
“You know what time I expect you home, Brian.”
“I know, Mom, I just—”
“Then why are you just now walking through that door at six A.M.?”
Brian groaned and walked slowly to his room.
Deahnna gave her son a hard glare as he walked past her. It was a stare that used to bring tears to his eyes, but now did little more than make him frown. She folded her arms across her chest as he opened his door and walked into his room, which, to her surprise, was actually clean. “So, I’m waiting for my explanation.”
“If you’d let me speak, Mom, I would answer you.”
Deahnna slit her eyes and pointed a slender index finger at her son. “Boy, don’t get fresh with me, you understand?”
Brian groaned again, and then said, “Sorry.”
Deahnna pressed her lips together firmly. “Mm-hmm. So where were you?”
“I . . . I was over at Tyrel’s crib.”
“Boy, you can speak your slang all you want in the streets, but in this house, it’s only proper English I want to hear.”
Brian let out another groan. “I was at Tyrel’s house playing Xbox with him and Will. I ended up falling asleep.”
“Brian, you know how I feel about you being with Will and Tyrel. Especially Tyrel.”
“Mom—”
“I hear things about them, you know. I hear about the trouble they like to get into. Especially Tyrel.”
“People talk bullsh . . .” Brian paused, catching himself quickly. “People don’t know what they’re talking about. Trust me, more than half the time the trouble Tyrel gets into is him just defending himself.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“For real, Mom. Why do you trip out so much about them? You know them.”
“Exactly. I do know them.”
“They’re my boys.”
“I understand that, Brian. I just don’t understand why you’ve never found other boys to hang out with. Boys who have real futures ahead of them like you do, unlike Tyrel.”
Brian slammed his fist down on his bed. “Why do you always judge Tyrel like that? You don’t even take the time to talk to him. You have no clue what he’s about. What he’s into.”
“You’re wrong, Brian. I do know what Tyrel is into. It’s the same thing he was into when he was a little boy: trouble. Tyrel has been and will always be a roughneck with a nigger mentality. And I promise you, Brian, if you don’t stop hanging around him, he’s going to get you into something that you won’t be able to get out of.”
“Damn, Mom. I’m seventeen years old!”
“And?”
“I’m practically a man. I can handle myself.”
Deahnna couldn’t help but laugh. “Trust me, dear, you’re getting older, but you’re far from being a man.”
“Yeah, well, I’m more man than the nigga you got wit’ to produce me.”
Without thought or hesitation, Deahanna stepped toward her son and slapped him hard across his face. “What did I tell you about using that language around me? I’m not one of your boys, Brian. I am your mother and you will respect me as that. And for your information, I didn’t just get wit’ your father. I was young, yes, but I was in love. I’m not proud of the man I chose, but that mistake gave me you, and I am proud that you were the end result of my bad choice.”
Brian stood silent with his eyes slit and his lips tight.
Deahanna hated to see that face; he looked too much like his father.
She shook her head and frowned. She wanted to say more, but knew it would just be a waste of her breath. “Clean this room,” she said, despite how neat it was. “And when you’re done, go and do the bathroom, and then vacuum.”
Without another word, she walked off into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.
She sat down heavily on her bed. She hadn’t meant to hit him, but his statement about getting with his father had stung. She’d only been sixteen, but she’d loved his father, Terrance, with all her heart. He was her first love, her first real boyfriend. He was twenty-one and rough around the edges, but with Deahnna he’d always been gentle, kind. And when he would look in her eyes and tell her that she was his everything, she believed it. Never in a million years did she ever think that he would hurt her, but he had. Twice.
The first time was when he raped her.
They were at her apartment alone; her mother was working a double shift. They were in her bedroom, sitting on her bed, kissing and fondling each other as they always did. She was a virgin and Terrance had always seemed to be OK with that. Whenever he tried to take the fondling and kissing further, all Deahnna ever had to say was no, and he would back off, saying that he could and would wait because he loved her. But that day he’d apparently had enough. He wanted to be inside of her. Deahnna tried to push him off of her as he started to become forceful, but he’d been too strong. That day he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was dead set on taking what he wanted. After it happened, Deahnna blamed herself for the incident. Telling herself that she’d let the touching and kissing go too far, and because of that, she’d taken Terrance to the point of no return.
She never told anyone about what had happened, and, weeks later, she discovered that she was pregnant. She hadn’t seen or heard from Terrance since that day. Calls and knocks on his door went unanswered. His boys didn’t seem to know where he was. Eventually, she did manage to track him down. This would be the second time he hurt her.
When she told him the news about the baby, he denied it was his. He accused her of having sex with somebody else, which, of course, had been a lie, since her virgin blood had been all left behind on the sheets of her bed. He cursed her out, called her all kinds of derogatory names, and then told her to stay the fuck away from him. Heartbroken, Deahnna was forced to deal with having to break the news to her mother on her own. Her mother, having been through something similar in her past, wanted her to have an abortion, but Deahnna didn’t believe in them. Because she’d refused, her mother kicked her out of the house. She lived at a friend’s house for a few weeks, and then eventually moved in with her mother’s estranged sister, who helped her finish high school. Deahanna moved out when she was nineteen, and it had been she and Brian ever since.
Because Brian looked just like him, Terrance remained a constant on Deahnna’s mind. One day, through the grapevine in the neighborhood, she found out that she hadn’t been the only woman he’d raped. A fifteen-year-old girl was brave enough to come forward, and told a similar story. Another sixteen-year-old came after that. Terrance was now in jail in Rikers Island, and Deahnna hoped he was getting done to him what had been done to her and the other females.
“Practically a man.” She shook her head. In another year, in the eyes of the law, Brian would be just that. A man who’d have to deal with the good and bad consequences of life. She wanted to shelter him forever from bad, but knew that she couldn’t, and that was maddeningly frustrating.
She closed her eyes and squeezed her temples. “Why couldn’t he have just been in the damn room?”
6
A high school dance.
It had been a long time since he’d attended one. Since his own high school days, actually.
Jawan looked around the gym, which was packed—something that surprised him. When he was in high school, there hadn’t been much for him and his friends to do besides roam around King’s Plaza, hang out at a friend’s house, or just run the streets. They didn’t have all of the under-twenty-one hangout spots like they had now, so when they were on, the dances were the place to be. Dances were where you came with your boyfriend or girlfriend to get the tight squeeze when the slow jams were played—something the current DJs no longer did.
As the kids these days were all too grown and too cool, Jawan found the turnout to be really surprising. He surmised that
kids must have either really missed the gatherings, as the school had cancelled them for a few years due to excessive violence in the past, or they just had as little to do as he had when he was their age.
Jawan looked around at the kids dancing in the middle of the gymnasium’s floor, as the kids twitched as though their bodies were on fire and infested with fleas, snapped and leaned as if they had rhythmic Tourette’s syndrome, or just did things that belonged in bedrooms behind closed doors. Their dances made no sense to him, and some just looked painful and clumsy. They weren’t graceful or smooth like the cabbage patch, the run-joe, the running man, or the Kid ’n Play.
Now those were moves.
And so were the ones done when break dancing. Something to Jawan’s surprise and pleasure that many of the guys in the middle of the floor were doing now. He smiled as some of the quietest students he’d seen roaming the halls, pop-locked and windmilled while their peers cheered them on.
For a moment, he was tempted to venture out and show off the moves he used to do on flattened cardboard and wide pieces of linoleum. They’d be blown away by his skills, he knew. They’d probably come clamoring to him for lessons, but his schedule just wouldn’t allow it. Nor would his body, which he knew would fight him tooth and nail to keep from doing things and getting into positions it knew it had no business even attempting.
For a fleeting moment, he wished, for one night, he could invert the numbers of his age. But as it was, he was thirty-two, and although the decline down the hill was slow going, it was downhill regardless.
So much for getting old, he kidded to himself.
He walked around the gym slowly. The DJ was actually playing some half-decent tracks that had his head moving to the beat. The music wasn’t as moving as what he’d grown up with, but it was cool.
He tapped and observed the students who weren’t on the dance floor. Some congregated in small, tight circles against the walls. Others were couples holding hands. Like Brian and Carla.
Jawan paused when he saw his student. He smiled. It was nice to see that he’d come and hadn’t gotten into any li’l somethin’s for the night. In some ways, Brian reminded Jawan of himself. Smart, good-looking, quiet on the outside, yet troubled on the inside. Brian had a lot of potential, and although he’d never spoken about his dreams or goals, Jawan knew he had them.
Growing Pains Page 4
