No Take Backs

by Otis Hanby

  “Alright folks. There’s nothing else to see here. Go to your respective classes!”

  As both boys are being taken away, the crowd slowly breaks up. There are a lot of kids talking excitedly about what just happened. Our group is buzzing about it when Brigette walks up with Darren’s glasses in her hand. They don’t seem damaged.

  “Where are they taking Darren?” Brigette asks distraught as if it has affected her reasoning.

  “I think to the principal’s office,” I say. Brigette turns and walks quickly in that direction.

  The crowds begin dispersing and the dark feeling I encountered earlier pulses inside my chest. I correlate the darkness to the cold, gloomy weather outside. It’s different from anything that I’ve experienced before, and I notice it’s causing me to feel detached suddenly. I search for some beacon to bring me to safety, and I think of Erica. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Erica so much. She shows me a level of acceptance that no one ever has, and loves me for me. She doesn’t want to change me. But even that feels fragile. All of these thoughts are plaguing me suddenly. I push them to the back of my mind as I walk to my next class. I hear the bell ring as I sit in my assigned desk. Everyone’s talking, and it feels like their voices are suffocating me. I slowly, deliberately shut it all out. I go to a quiet place in my mind.

  ***

  It’s time for P.E., and I walk into the gym as Rodney runs up behind me and punches me in the arm.

  “What’s up?” Rodney asks.

  “Nothing,” I reply.

  We walk into the locker room, where I see the same fat kid that was giving me trouble this morning. This is too much. After Darren’s fight, it just seems that trouble isn’t going away. The fat kid is talking to some of his friends but stops when he notices me. I make eye contact with him. He approaches me, cutting off my path to my locker.

  “Hey, skinhead! Remember me?” the fat kid asks.

  I don’t reply. I just stare waiting for him to make a move.

  “Hey, motherfucker, I’m talking to you,” he says again.

  We stand there facing each other for several seconds until he finally pushes me. Instead of pushing him back, I grow angry and hit him in the stomach. My hand feels like it’s absorbed in jelly. The fat kid throws a wild punch at me, but I deflect it with my left and swing for his face with my right. He deflects the blow with a raised guard. I have my fists up waiting for him to come at me again when a kid from the doorway urgently says, “The coach is coming!”

  The fat kid puts his fists down, and Rodney pulls me away from the fight.

  “Come on man. Let’s get out of the locker room,” Rodney says.

  We walk past the coach as we leave the locker room. We head to the bleachers and sit down. We never dress out for gym, and the coach never really makes us do anything anyway. He’s more concerned about taking care of football stuff or other sports he’s in charge of. The fat kid comes out of the locker room with a pack of black kids. They walk by us and stare up at me. I just look back blankly.

  “There’s going to be a racial war if this keeps up,” Rodney says to me.

  “Yeah. It seems like things could get ugly.” I’m trying to hide the worry in my voice.

  “Don’t worry about it. You know I got your back,” Rodney says in a way that makes me think that he’d be glad to see some action.

  We spend the rest of the gym class watching the other kids shoot baskets and trying to think of a place where we could sneak off for a cigarette. We don’t come up with a place where we wouldn’t get caught, so we just wait for the bell to ring.

  Chapter Eight

  The rest of the school day goes by pretty quick and, surprisingly, without any more fights. I walk with Erica, Rodney, Leann, and Marcy to Rodney’s car. Chad, Tyler, and Greg pull up next to us as we’re getting into Rodney’s car.

  “Hey fools! Y’all wanna skate?” Chad asks through his open window.

  “Yeah. Follow us to Leann and Marcy’s,” Rodney says.

  “Alright.”

  I’m the last one to get in. Erica sits in the middle of the back seat, and I sit next to her. I take her hand and lay my head on her shoulder. I didn’t realize how tense I was feeling. I allow the smell of her leather jacket and perfume to calm me.

  “I’m cold,” Erica says, shivering a little.

  I rub her legs through her tights to warm her up. She puts her cold nose into my neck, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. It feels so good, holding her. I never want to let go of her. Rodney puts “Social Distortion” in the tape deck as we drive away. I close my eyes and inhale Erica’s smell as we listen to “Sick Boys” play from the speakers. I feel at peace for the first time today. Nothing in my life feels right anymore except for having Erica next to me and riding in Rodney’s Firebird.

  As we head for Leann and Marcy’s place, it’s starting to drizzle. By the time we get there, everything’s soaked. It doesn’t look like we’re going to do any skateboarding today. Rodney pulls his car into the side parking lot, and Chad pulls up beside him. Greg jumps out of Chad’s car and starts skating despite the lousy weather. As I get out of the vehicle, Tyler and Chad are already on their skateboards doing tricks on the parking curbs. Rodney sits down on a dry curb under an overhang and lights a cigarette. Leann, Marcy, Erica, and I follow suit. Leann and Marcy snuggle together, and Erica snuggles into me. We watch Greg, Chad, and Tyler make several attempts at skateboarding tricks without much success. The ground is just too wet. One by one they give up and put their skateboards away in the trunk of Chad’s car. Greg is reluctant to put his up because he’s been trying to land a double kickflip. Chad comes up to us, dripping wet, and he’s blowing on his hands trying to warm them up.

  “Let’s go over to Jack-in-the-Box,” Chad says from behind his hands. The short walk would reward us with warmth and a dry place to hang out.

  “Good idea,” Leann says.

  We walk as a group to the Jack-in-the-Box. As we enter, there are kids our age working behind the counter staring at us. We’re the only people there other than the workers. We walk to the back, out of view, toward the booths. Rodney, Leann, and Chad go to the counter for sodas. Greg’s playing with a finger skateboard he pulled out of his pocket. Tied around his neck is a shoestring with a rabbit ear hanging on it. I can’t believe he’s still wearing that thing. He made that necklace over a year ago from a stuffed animal we found in the nursery at my church during a lock-in. Methodists are known for their overnight lock-ins chaperoned by a youth director who usually isn’t much older than the kids he or she is supervising. It seemed strange to me that kids were trusted to run around all night finding places to make out, smoke weed, or sneak alcohol inside the church. It seemed sacrilegious to me, but it would be unfair if I said I didn’t take advantage of the lack of supervision.

  “Hey, man. I can’t believe you still have that necklace.”

  He looks up from playing with his finger skateboard and says, “Yeah. Hey, you still got yours?”

  I pull a necklace out from under my shirt. It’s made from a “Vision Street Wear” patch that I pulled off one of my old skate shoes.

  “I like that. Can I have it?” Erica asks, grabbing it.

  “Sure,” I say, taking it off and putting it on her.

  “I got this one, too,” Greg says, pulling on a leather string hanging from his neck to reveal a small, silver butterfly with multi-colored wings.

  “That’s cool,” I say.

  “You want it?” He takes it off.

  “I don’t know if I should,” I say because it looks like it might be an heirloom.

  “Don’t be silly,” he says in his friendly way.

  He puts the necklace in my hand and starts playing with his finger skateboard again. I admire it for a minute. It’s very old looking.

  “It’s pretty,” Erica says.

  “Do you want it?” I ask.

  “It was a gift from a friend. It would be rude of you to give it to me.”

/>   “Yeah, you’re right. Could you help me put it on?”

  “Sure,” Erica says clasping it around my neck.

  After she puts it on me, I admire it once more before tucking it into my shirt. Rodney, Leann, and Chad come back to the table with sodas. Rodney’s eating a hamburger. It makes me hungry, but I have no money. I’m thankful for the drinks they bought for everyone, though. I take a sip and then light a couple of cigarettes, handing one to Erica. Erica turns around and grabs a handful of cheap tin ashtrays that are stacked up on top of the trash bin behind our booth. The ashtrays have the Jack-in-the-Box logo stamped in the middle. Erica puts a stack of them in her jacket pocket but keeps two out to use.

  “Hey man, what’s up with all these niggers starting shit with us?” Chad asks.

  The word “nigger” isn’t said very often with my friends, and it sounds out of place.

  “Yeah! Corey, you had a run in with one today, too, didn’t you?” Leann asks me.

  “Yeah, but it’s no big deal,” I say, wanting the topic to die quick.

  Erica gives me an uncomfortable look.

  “Yeah, it is a big deal. First, it’s Darren, and now it’s you. Who’s next? We might want to start watching our backs,” Chad says.

  “Yeah!” Tyler says mockingly, and too enthusiastic to sound sincere. I wonder if he’s ever serious about anything.

  “You know Andy’s been having a lot of trouble with the blacks too,” Rodney says.

  Andy is Leann’s boyfriend. I’ve only seen him a couple of times. He goes to our school, but he never sits at our table. Come to think of it; I never remember seeing him at school at all. He’s a senior though, and I guess he has better things to do than hang out with sophomores. I do know he has a reputation of being one of the toughest guys in school. He’s short but one hell of a fighter. He reminds me of a 50’s era hood wearing Levi’s, a white t-shirt, and Doc Martens with sandy blonde bangs hanging in his eyes. I’m interested in hearing what Rodney has to say about Andy.

  “What do you mean, he’s been having trouble with the blacks?” Chad asks.

  “Last I heard, he was suspended for getting into a fight with one. Or was it with a shit-kicker? He’s always getting into fights with them too,” Rodney replies.

  “I think he’s at work tonight. I’ll call him and see if he can help you guys out if things get bad,” Leann says.

  I already feel a little better with Andy on our side. I take another sip of soda and look at Erica. She has a distant look in her eyes. I can’t tell if she’s bothered by what she’s hearing or if she’s just tired.

  “Hey, are you alright?” I ask her.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “No reason,” I say, without much conviction.

  The dark feeling that plagued me earlier is creeping back in. I snuff out my cigarette. I give Erica a weak smile, and she gives me a weak smile in return. I can tell that Rodney wants to leave so I get up and stretch. Everyone else follows suit, and we make our way out the door. We walk in silence as the cold, misty rain bites at our faces. Chad, Tyler, and Greg get into Chad’s car and leave. I walk Erica to Leann’s door. Leann and Rodney are pushing each other around and laughing, and Marcy goes inside without saying goodbye. I stand in front of Erica holding both of her hands in mine. She keeps her head down looking at the ground.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  She looks up at me with a lame smile and says yes. She’s biting her lip in that way that drives me nuts. She remains indifferent, though, contributing to the dark feeling weighing me down.

  “I’ll call you later,” I say, hoping to see some change in her expression.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” She lets my hands go and turns towards the door.

  “I love you.”

  She stops and looks over her shoulder and says, “I love you, too.” But there seems to be little feeling in her words. She opens the door and slips inside.

  Leann smiles at me and says, “See ya later.”

  “See ya,” I say.

  I turn to face Rodney, and he hands me a lit cigarette. I suddenly give recognition that the days are getting shorter and colder due to the changing of the seasons, as I reflect on my own internal darkness. I wonder why I’m feeling this way. I wonder if I’m defective or something because I seem to feel things deeper and more intensely than most people. I know that I’m extremely sensitive, but I can’t understand why I am. I do my best to come across as tough for the sake of self-preservation, but there’s nothing more I would like than to care less about what people think, specifically Rodney.

  A shiver goes up my spine as we walk over to Rodney’s car. I open the passenger door and pause for a brief moment, inhaling the clean, cold outside air. I let the light rain hit me in the face and appreciate how fresh it feels. I wipe the cold water away with the sleeve of my thermal and get into the car.

  ***

  I eat a light supper and call Erica. We talk briefly about nothing in particular. It’s evident that she doesn’t feel like talking. I tell her that I love her and she responds in a dismissive tone. I hang the phone up feeling confused, not to mention tired after everything that happened today. I sit at the kitchen table with the lights off for a while. My dad and stepmom are watching the news in the living room—their nightly ritual—and I hear something about Desert Storm. There’s a war going on in Iraq, but I’m not paying any attention to it. My sister is at her boyfriend’s house, as usual. My brother Will is most likely in his room listening to music and reading a sci-fi paperback. I sit here, letting my mind drift. I pull myself out of my chair, say goodnight to my oblivious parents, and go to my room. I don’t know if they heard me or not, or if they even care. I slip my shoes off and get undressed. I turn out the lights and press play on the Danzig tape I have in the stereo. The music is evil, and I feel a little power in the lyrics. I want to lash out. I want to be feared. Already exhausted from the anger and confusion of the long, dark day I slip quickly into a deep sleep.

  ***

  Brigette comes by the house the next morning, and I’m still asleep. I run outside wrapped in a small towel barely covering me, and apologize for oversleeping. I tell Brigette and her mom that I’ll be dressed and ready in a minute. Brigette and her mom tease me pretty hard about that on the way to school.

  After getting to school, I find Erica, and she’s acting normal. Things seemed to be getting better. The sun is shining and the dark feeling I’ve been having nearly subsides. It’s not gone, but I am feeling a hell of a lot better. I even go to Erica’s house and hang out with her for a while after school. She makes me a mixed tape with different love songs by Depeche Mode, New World Order, The Smiths, and Erasure.

  The week passes with a sense of normalcy. No one else bothers us in school, although I receive more than a few dirty looks from some black kids. I also step on a Mexican kid’s shoe one day, as he’s sitting on a bench outside of the principal’s office. He kicks at me and yells, “Watch out, Puto!” I just keep walking with the flow of traffic, not giving it a second thought. Friday comes, and my parents say it’s okay to stay the night at Rodney’s house.

  Chapter Nine

  After Rodney and I leave school on Friday, we go to his house. We stay there until dark, then Rodney says we’re going to Braydon’s house for a while. When we arrive, we see that Chad’s car is already in the driveway. There’s another car parked there that I don’t recognize. Rodney tells me it’s Andy’s. We walk up to the front door and find only the outer glass door shut, giving us a view into the living room. Music is playing loudly, and I can see Braydon kneeling in front of the stereo with Andy behind him. Leann walks out of the kitchen with Erica behind her. Leann sees us and comes to the door to let us in.

  “Hey, guys! What’s up?” Leann says with her usual bright smile.

  “Hey!” Rodney responds.

  “Hi!” I say, walking in behind Rodney. Erica’s smiling a crooked, flirtatious smile. I wrap my arms around her and take in her fa
miliar smell. I let go and give her a quick kiss as I notice her wearing boxer shorts, a “Smith’s” T-Shirt, and ankle socks. She grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. Braydon stands up and turns to face me.

  “Hey Core! What’s up, braw?” Braydon asks in his surfer’s accent. He shakes my hand and hugs me.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Hey, Rod. What’s up, dude?”

  “What’s up?” Rodney says back, not hugging Braydon. Rodney’s not the touchy-feely type.

  Andy comes up and says hi but quickly turns his attention to Leann. “Minor Threat” is playing from the stereo. Marcy comes out of Braydon’s room looking like she just woke up.

  “Hey,” I say to her. She waves her hand with one eye closed, and sits down next to Erica, laying her head on her shoulder. Andy sits down on the love seat with Leann, across from us. Braydon sits on the arm of the couch and kisses Marcy on the top of her head. Rodney sits on the floor, cross-legged.