Lessons Learned

by Earl Sewell

  Now that all of the drama with Liz Lloyd had been cleared up, it made going to school a little easier and less stressful. I didn’t have to worry about people glaring at me in the hallway or making crazy accusations about me. In fact, a number of students came up to me and praised me for my courage to stand up to Liz Lloyd. As much as I wanted to take all of the glory, I told them that Wesley and Mike were the ones who really did all the work. They both were able to prove that Liz was selling drugs and that got her arrested. I learned that many of the students were happy to see Liz disappear for a while because many of them had been victims of her vicious attacks. One girl named Judy—who was considered to be a little strange because she was always pulling her eyelashes out—came up to my locker between classes.

  “I’ve heard that Liz has been placed in some special type of juvenile detention center,” Judy explained. I was about to tell her that I didn’t care but she wouldn’t let me say anything until she said what she had to. “I also heard that she got into trouble with some girls in there and actually got additional time tacked on. Since she got into some trouble, she has to stay locked up until she goes to court,” she finally finished. I thanked her for the information but honestly, I couldn’t have cared less about what was going on in Liz’s life. I was just happy that all of that mess was behind me.

  When the dismissal bell rang, I bolted out of my seat and rushed to my locker so I could pick up the books I needed for homework. Once I’d finished packing my backpack, which felt like a ton of bricks, I hurried out of the building and pulled out my cell phone. As I walked between the school buses and across the parking lot, I called Wesley to see how things were going.

  “Hey, honey,” I greeted Wesley when he answered. “I miss you.”

  “Hey. I miss you, too. How is it going? How was school?” he asked.

  “Good. A few people asked about you. I told them that you were fine and would be back in a few months,” I explained.

  “I can’t wait to come back,” said Wesley as he released a big sigh.

  “So, what is it like down there? Have you registered for school yet?” I asked.

  “No, not yet. My grandmother and I will do that tomorrow. Today was spent unpacking and stuff like that. There is a high school not too far from my grandmother’s house.”

  “Do you think you’ll like it there?” I asked.

  “Probably not. It’s rough around here from what I’ve seen so far. I walked up to the corner store and some short brawny dude with a hooded black winter coat approached me and asked me who I represented. At first I said, ‘What?’ Then he said, ‘I said, who do you represent? I’ve never seen you before and I know everybody around here.’ The guy started posturing, then lifted up his coat to show me the gun he had on him. I told him that I wasn’t into all that and tried to walk away. The dude decides to stand in my way and call over some other guys who were just standing around the store front doing nothing. They surrounded me and then dude asked if I was with Sur 13 or Primera 18 which I guessed were Hispanic gangs in the area. I suppose because of my light skin tone they thought I was Hispanic.”

  “Oh my God, Wesley! What did you do?” I asked as I felt a cold chill run the length of my spine.

  “I told them that I represented God and began humming a church song that my grandmother was playing during the drive down. The only type of music she listens to is church music,” Wesley laughed.

  “Well, what did those boys do then?” I asked.

  “Well, then dude said, ‘I’d better not find out you’re representing somebody because if I do, I’m going to put you six feet under.’ I told him once again that I wasn’t into all of that and he backed off me.” Wesley let out a sigh. “I’m going to be in for a rough ride living out here, Keysha.”

  “Don’t say that, Wesley. You don’t need any more craziness to happen in your life right now,” I said, as I approached the corner stoplight.

  “Keysha, I’m telling you the people in this neighborhood look really rough and appear as if they’ve got nothing to lose. My grandmother said that she was glad to have two men in the house because she feared that the young men and boys who hung out on the corner would attempt to break in to her house and attack her because she was an elderly woman.”

  “Wesley, it doesn’t sound as if you’re going to be safe,” I said, feeling very concerned about Wesley’s well-being.

  “I’ll be okay. I just have to watch my back around here.” Wesley released a nervous laugh.

  “So, does your grandmother have enough room for you guys?” I asked.

  “Oh, she has plenty of room. She lives in one of those old frame houses that’s been standing for decades. I’m sleeping in the room that’s in the basement. It used to be my dad’s old bedroom when he was a teenager. The room smells a little musty and the bed squeaks a lot but it’s clean.”

  “Do you like it? I mean what color is it? Does it have gray concrete walls?” I asked wanting to get a better sense of how my boo was living. I was also thinking about what I could send to him to help brighten up his space.

  “Umm, it’s just okay. Like I said, the room has an old squeaky mattress. The walls are covered with brown paneling from the 1970s that looks really old and dated. There is gold shag carpet on the floor, an old record player in the corner along with an old floor-model television set that takes forever to come on because it has to warm up. There are also some old albums on a small shelf. Have you ever heard of a group called Kool and the Gang?” Wesley asked.

  “No, not really. I may have heard one of their songs before but I can’t be sure,” I answered.

  “I’ll have to see if the record player still works and see what an album sounds like. I’m sure the sound quality is nothing like an iPod or mp3 player. Oh, and there is a big walk-in closet that is filled with a ton of old stuff. There is an old bike, some old clothes, and old Jet and Ebony magazines dating back to 1979.”

  “Why would your grandmother keep all of that stuff?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but this place is like a museum of sorts. Most of this stuff I think belonged to my dad and grandfather.”

  “Well. It may be kind of interesting to go through some of it,” I said.

  “Yeah, maybe, but my grandmother is a straight up pack rat.” Wesley’s comment made me laugh.

  “I’m serious. She even has a box filled with old newspapers. Why would anyone keep a box filled with old newspapers?” Wesley asked.

  “I don’t know, boo, but if we were to ever get married and you started cluttering up the house you and I would have to fight,” I said jokingly.

  “Trust me. I don’t have any problem letting stuff go,” he said, laughing along with me. “I remember visiting her when I was very young and thinking that she had an awful lot of stuff. I remember going up into the attic as a little boy and playing with very old toys from my grandmother’s childhood. I’d be willing to bet a million dollars that she still has that stuff up there.” Wesley and I laughed some more.

  “Well, I’ve made it home now so I’m going to go in and get some homework done. I’ll call you back when I’m done, okay?”

  “Okay. If I don’t answer, just leave a message and I’ll call you back,” Wesley said before ending our call.

  When I walked into the house, I tossed my book bag on the floor in the family room. I went into the kitchen, opened the freezer and grabbed a box of frozen pizza puffs. I placed them on a pan and then slid them into the oven to be heated up. Just as I was about to start working on my homework, I saw Jordan pull into the driveway. I went to open the door from him.

  “Hello,” I said as I turned to walk up the steps. “You’re home early. How was your day?” I asked.

  “Well, my day started out great. At the executive meeting this morning we learned that our ratings have jumped and now we’re the number-one radio station in the city. The new director of sales told us that advertising sales are up twenty-five percent which means that I’m going to receive a handsom
e bonus. Everything was going smoothly until I received a phone call from a social worker.” He answered as he took a seat on the leather sofa.

  “What did the social worker say?” I asked, feeling very nervous and uneasy.

  “We’re going to have to go to court, Keysha. Your mother is really sneaky. When she came over here the other day to see you, she’d already filed court papers.”

  “I don’t want to see her,” I said stating my position.

  “I know,” Jordan released a loud sigh and then rubbed his eyes. “We’ll fight this,” he said.

  “When is the court date?” I asked as a numb feeling washed over me.

  “Next month in December. Right before Christmas,” he said.

  “So, I’ll be spending part of my Christmas vacation in court?” I said feeling the anger toward my mother growing.

  “It looks that way, sweetie,” said Jordan. “I’ll give our attorney a call so that she can start working on this. Where’s Mike at?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t walk home with me,” I said.

  “That boy is going to be lucky if he lives to see his fifteenth birthday next month,” Jordan said as he got up from his seat and called Mike on his cell phone.

  eight

  MIKE

  Monday, November 5th

  I didn’t walk directly home after school because I got on one of the school buses with Sabrina to ride home with her. Sabrina lived on the other side of town. I’d have to walk over two miles to get back home, but I didn’t care because I wanted to be with her. We sat in a seat at the rear of the school bus. Sabrina’s friend Katina got a little twisted out of shape because I was on the bus riding with my girl but I didn’t care. I draped my arm over Sabrina’s shoulder and began whispering in her ear.

  “You know that I like kissing on you, don’t you?” I whispered.

  She giggled. “I like kissing on you, too,” she said before we kissed again.

  “So, is your mom or dad home?” I asked, eager to have some real private time with her.

  “No,” Sabrina smiled at me.

  “So what does that mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sabrina said. “We just started really liking each other yesterday.”

  “That’s not exactly true. We’ve liked each other since we were eleven years old.” I thought she’d fall for the line.

  “Mike, you have not liked me for that long, so stop lying.” Sabrina didn’t believe me. I needed her to believe me because I was ready to go beyond kissing. So I figured that, if she believed that I’ve liked her for a longer time, she’d be more comfortable with lowering her guard and going to the next level.

  “Yes, I have. I just never said anything because I was shy. You remember how shy I was back then, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you were very shy.” She agreed with me and I was happy that I’d scored a point for deception.

  “So why don’t you let me come in your house for a little while,” I said, as I began kissing on her neck.

  “I don’t know, Mike. You’re moving really fast,” she said. “Maybe another day, but not today.”

  I see that I’m going to have to work a little harder to get around her defenses, I thought to myself. “That’s cool,” I said. “We can take it nice and slow.”

  “Really? You’re not mad at me?” she asked.

  “Of course not.” I lied again. I was ticked off on the inside because now I’d have to walk all the way back home and be happy with only receiving a few kisses. I thought that my willingness to ride all the way to the other side of town with her would earn me some big points so that I could at least feel her up.

  “Did you know that I still remember that your birthday is on December 29th?” she said.

  “Wow. I can’t believe you remembered,” I said, thinking it was nice to know that she’d stored that information in her memory.

  “Every year for the past three years I’ve always thought about you on your special day.”

  “Well, you know my special day is just around the corner,” I said.

  “I know. And I want to do something really special for you. Something that you’ll never forget,” Sabrina spoke softly and then began kissing on me again.

  “How special?” I asked as I offered my neck to her once again. She placed soft kisses all over it.

  “It will be so special that you’ll remember your fifteenth-birthday gift from me for the rest of your life,” Sabrina whispered in my ear and nibbled on my earlobe.

  “Oh yeah. It sounds as if I’m going to really enjoy my gift,” I said succumbing to passion of the moment.

  “So tell me something that you like about me,” Sabrina said softly.

  “I like everything about you,” I said as I began rubbing her leg.

  “That’s a very vague answer, Mike,” she said and then stopped me from rubbing her leg. I suddenly felt as if I’d just lost the point I’d worked so hard to gain.

  “I like you a lot.” I paused in thought as I searched my mind for something good to tell her. “I like you so much that I want you to be my girl. I don’t want to see anyone else but you,” I said, thinking that was what she wanted to hear.

  “Really?” she said.

  Bingo, I thought to myself. “Yeah, really. I want you to be my girl. Just you and me. True love forever.” I chuckled a little.

  “You haven’t known me long enough to love me,” she said.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Let me tell you something.” I began to speak purposefully in her ear. “When you came up to me yesterday at church I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that I’d seen an angel. I mean, my heart almost stopped beating when I saw you. I knew right then that I wanted to get to know you even better than I did. Then, when you showed up at the nightclub, I said to myself, this has to be fate that brought us together.”

  “Really?” asked Sabrina.

  “Yeah,” I answered her.

  “I am so glad that you feel that way because I was so nervous about coming out to see you. I mean I would’ve just died if I’d gone through all that trouble only to find out that you were dating another girl.”

  “You’re my girl.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Sabrina said and then gave me a hug. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to do things to you that I know you’ll like.”

  “Ooh,” I said, as her words sent passion chills down my spine. I had to shake her words off me a little because I was happy she was thinking about going all the way with me.

  “Well, let’s get to know each other really well over the next few weeks so that you can give me everything I got coming to me on my birthday,” I said.

  “And how do you propose that we get to know each other better?” she asked.

  “I’m going to come home with you every day. We’re going to meet up at the mall on the weekends and spend time shopping, and going to movies and, you know, just hanging out,” I said.

  “That sounds so nice, Mike,” she said as the bus came to a stop. “Oh. Come on. Hurry up, this is my stop. I’ll see you later, Katina,” she said to her friend sitting across from her. She quickly grabbed her book bag and rushed toward the front of the bus. I trailed closely behind her. Sabrina and I continued down Robin Lane until we reached her house.

  “Well, this is it,” she said as I walked her to the front door.

  I was about to kiss her one more time but she stopped me.

  “No. We can’t kiss outside like this. The neighbors might see us,” she said.

  “So? I don’t care,” I said.

  “Mike, I’m not supposed to be dating or have a boyfriend. My dad would have a fit if he knew that I was seeing you. And the last thing I need is for one of my nosy neighbors to say something to him.”

  “Dang,” I said, a bit disappointed.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that we have plenty of ki
ssing time tomorrow. Now, bundle up so you don’t catch a cold. You have a long walk back home,” she said.

  “I know. Well, let me get going. I’ll call you later on tonight. What time are you able to talk for free on your cell phone?” I asked.

  “Seven,” she said.

  “Cool, that’s when my calling minutes are free as well.” Sabrina blew me a kiss and then entered her house. I turned and walked back down Robin Lane to State Street, then made a left turn and began my long, cold journey back home.

  As I walked back home, I began to think how cool it was going to be to turn fifteen. It meant that I could get a driver’s permit, take driver’s education, eventually get my own car, and more freedom and independence. As I walked I fantasized about the type of car I wanted. A classic Chevy Caprice with some nice rims and a slamming sound system would be nice. Or maybe if I got an old Toyota Celica, I’d call up the people from the Pimp My Ride show and let them hook me up. Oh, I can just see it now. A car with some spinner rims, high-tech sound system, some neon lights on the interior with a flat-screen television that lowers down out of the ceiling. Woo, I’d be one fly brother who’d be picking up all the honeys and getting action on a daily basis. I laughed to myself as I thought about all of the possibilities. Then my thinking shifted to what if I got Jordan’s classic 1979 Pontiac Trans Am.

  “Yeah,” I said aloud. “That four hundred–horsepower V8 Engine with black leather interior and T-Top. Man.

  I’d drag race that bad boy every chance I got. I’d be like one of the guys from that movie The Fast and The Furious. I’d have fun outrunning the police.” I laughed to myself as I pictured myself speeding away from a police officer. But I knew that hell would freeze over before Jordan allowed me to drive his precious car. He treated that car as if it were his baby.

  By the time I arrived home I was surprised to see Jordan’s Honda parked in the driveway. He was home much earlier than usual and that concerned me a little because I didn’t want any more confrontations. I was grounded for hanging out so late the other night with Marlon and my teammates. Jordan came down on me hard and wanted me home every day immediately after school. But I wasn’t about to follow that dumb order. When I entered the house, Jordan started in on me.