by K'wan
As promised, Cal’s white girls were waiting for them inside the park; a strawberry blonde and a brunette. What Cal hadn’t bothered to mention was that there was only two of them and one was ugly. He quickly jumped on the cute brunette, leaving Doug and Ace to compete for the cubby blonde with the overbite. The group of them ended up walking down to 100th Street and Central Park West. One of the white girls knew somebody who sold weed in the projects across down the street. Doug wasn’t about to take his little sister to buy drugs, so she ended up getting left behind while they handled business. Jonas opted to wait with her. Unlike his thirsty friends, he had no interest in the white girls, nor getting high. Besides, he could think of far worse fates than getting left alone with Alex.
“Why didn’t you go off with your boys and the white girls?” Alex asked as they strolled through the park, tossing Jonas’s football back and forth.
Jonas shrugged. “For what?”
“Didn’t you want to get high with the white girls too?”
“I don’t smoke weed,” he informed her, much to Alex’s surprise. She’d always assumed he did everything her brother and the rest of their crew did. “Besides, somebody had to stay behind and make sure you’re good.”
“I can handle myself.” Alex threw the football in a tight spiral into Jonas’s chest.
They continued to walk, chucking the ball, and catching up on old times. Their conversation eventually brought them to a small lake in the park. The thick sheet of frost that had formed over the water’s surface glistened in the afternoon sun. Jonas stopped to admire it for a time. When Alex came to stand beside him, it became the perfect moment.
“Beautiful,” Jonas said.
Alex blushed . . . until she realized he was talking about the lake. “Yeah . . . I guess.”
“You trying to tell me you’ve seen something that’ll top this other than on television?” Jonas asked.
“One winter, my parents took us on a trip to Niagara Falls. When the temperature drops enough, everything up there freezes,” she recalled.
“How come your mom and dad are always taking you and Doug on trips out of town?” Jonas asked. Even when they still lived on his block, it seemed like they were going somewhere different every other week.
“My dad says it’s to help culture us. Some of the places are boring, but for the most part, we have fun on our family vacations,” she said.
“My family’s version of a vacation is visiting our relatives in Newark for the weekend. Jersey is the farthest I’ve ever been and probably the farthest I’ll ever go,” Jonas said, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Don’t think like that, Jonas. You don’t know what life has in store for you,” she said encouragingly.
“You always did manage to find an upside to everything.” He cracked a smile. She returned the gesture. An awkward silence lingered between them. Jonas didn’t remember reaching for it, but he was holding Alex’s hand. When he felt her close her fingers over his, he knew that the moment was right. The stars had finally lined up between them, but before they could act on it, trouble found them.
“What y’all doing out here, yo?” an older boy approached. He was wearing baggy jeans, an army coat, and Tims. A red bandanna was tied around one of his boots. Trailing him were three more boys, wearing threatening faces. They appeared to range in ages between 15 and 17, older than Jonas and Alex.
“Nothing, just chilling.” Jonas casually positioned himself between Alex and the boys.
“Y’all ain’t from around here. You know somebody from this neighborhood to be chilling in our park?” the boy with the bandanna on his boot pressed.
Jonas could tell from the looks the boys were wearing that they had come into the park seeking trouble. Had the rest of his boys been there, he’d have told the boys to go fuck themselves and squared up to fight, but he was outnumbered. If something went down, Alex might get hurt, and he didn’t want that, so he tried the diplomatic approach. “Man, we were just walking through the park. We ain’t looking for trouble.”
The older boy studied Jonas’s face as if he were trying to decide whether to give him a pass—or not. His eyes suddenly landed on the football tucked under Jonas’s arm. “Nice ball. Let me see it.”
“Chill; this was a Christmas present,” Jonas told him. He knew what was about to go down.
“Man, if I wanted to steal your ball, I’d punch you in the face and take it. Now, let me get a quick throw.” He stuck his hand out.
Jonas looked over his shoulder at Alex, who motioned for him to give the ball up. It wasn’t worth them getting stomped out. Reluctantly, Jonas handed him the ball.
“Good looking.” The boy pressed the ball between his palms, testing the pressure. He turned his back and started walking off.
“You can’t leave with my ball,” Jonas yelled, starting after him.
“It ain’t yours no more. You gave it to me, remember?” the boy said over his shoulder without bothering to stop.
“I can’t let you leave with my ball!” Jonas insisted. He’d only had it a short time, but the football was already one of his most prized possessions. He couldn’t bear to lose it. Jonas jogged ahead of the boy and cut him off. “I need my ball.”
“Shorty, is this ball worth getting knocked out for?” The boy looked down at the smaller kid.
“Yes,” Jonas said plainly. It became obvious to everyone watching that he was willing to go all-out for his ball.
“Russ, give the little nigga his ball,” one of the boys in their group said. He was wearing a black Kangol and a thin gold chain. Until then, he had been quietly watching. He must’ve been the true leader of their group because the one called Russ didn’t argue with him.
“Told you I didn’t want this piece of shit. Go long,” Russ said before hurling the ball over Jonas’s head. It bounced off the grass and slid out onto the frozen lake.
“That was some bullshit, Russ.” The kid with the Kangol shook his head.
“Ain’t my fault the little nigga can’t catch,” Russ laughed.
“Asshole,” Jonas grumbled and headed toward the lake. His ball hadn’t gone out very far. He figured that maybe with a stick he would be able to knock it back toward the shore.
“Jonas, what are you doing?” Alex asked. She nervously watched as he approached the lip of the lake with a stick.
“I gotta get my ball,” Jonas told her. He used one toe to test the ice.
“Jonas, that ice isn’t going to hold your weight. It’s just a ball. You can get another one!” Alex pleaded with him.
Jonas ignored her and started out onto the ice. He crawled on his hands and knees, stretching the stick out to try to get the ball. It didn’t reach quite far enough, so he crawled a little farther. The ice groaned beneath him but held. Just a little farther, he thought to himself as the stick brushed the tip of the football. Finally, Jonas was able to knock the football close enough to where he could grab it. His hands were so numb from resting on the ice that he could barely feel it, but at least he had managed to rescue his mother’s gift to him. Everything was going smoothly . . . until he started scooting back toward dry land and heard the sound of the ice cracking just under his knees. The last thing he heard was Alex scream his name before he went crashing into the lake.
Long before his head followed the rest of him beneath the water, Jonas knew that he was going to die. The water was so cold that it stole the breath that he had been attempting to take before going under. Through the murky water, he could see sunlight shining through the hole he had created in the ice. It seemed so close that he could reach out and touch it, and he tried, but his arms would not cooperate with him. He could never in his life remember being so cold, but the sensation only lasted for a moment before his entire body went numb. The water flooded his nose and mouth before filling his lungs. Jonas had always thought that death by drowning was one of the worst ways a person could go, but it was actually quite peaceful. The numbing cold had passed and filled his body with
an almost euphoric feeling. It was like drifting off into a peaceful sleep that he would never wake up from. As he faded from this world and into the next, his last thoughts were of not being about to tell Sweets and Josette about the beautiful park he’d discovered.
* * *
Jonas was snatched back to consciousness by a racking cough. His lungs cried out desperately for air that seemed to be having troubling finding it. He could feel himself being rolled over on his side and someone slamming a palm into his back.
“Let it out, kid. Let it out!” an unfamiliar voice urged him.
As if on command, Jonas hacked one hard time and released a spray of water from his nose and mouth. This seemed to help. His chest was still hurting, but his airways were at least clear now. Someone was hovering over him. He was a pale figure with eyes that sparkled a shade of blue that he had never seen before. The sun turned his hair so blond that it appeared white and glowing. It must have been an angel come down to carry him off to heaven . . . only angels didn’t wear badges. As Jonas’s vision cleared, he realized that it wasn’t an angel, but a man. A cop to be more specific.
“Are you okay?” the cop asked in an accent that Jonas couldn’t place.
Jonas opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t quite form the words, so he just nodded.
“Don’t try to talk. Just sit tight; an ambulance is on the way,” the cop told him.
“Yo, Raf, you okay?” Ace appeared next to the cop. Cal was also with him. They were both fighting to get a look and invading the cop’s space.
“I’m gonna need you boys to step back,” the cop told them.
“Chill out, Officer. That’s my homeboy right there. I’m trying to make sure he’s good!” Ace snapped.
“Then, where the hell were you when he decided to go for a nature walk on the ice? Get your little ass back!” the officer matched his tone. The boys wisely did as they were told, and the cop turned his attention back to Jonas. “Sit tight. The ambulance will be here soon.”
Within ten minutes, there were paramedics on the scene, along with a half dozen more uniformed officers. The officers took statements from Alex about what had happened, while the paramedics got Jonas strapped onto a gurney. He was more worried about Alex than himself. She looked pretty shaken up. He was glad that he hadn’t died in front of her. As the paramedics were loading Jonas into the back of the ambulance, the officer who saved him appeared.
“Is he going to be okay?” the cop asked.
“Surprisingly, yes,” the paramedic admitted. “He’s suffering from hypothermia, and we can’t be sure yet if the water’s done any long-term damage to the lungs, but other than that, we think he’ll be fine. Considering how long he was down there before you pulled him out, I’d say this was nothing short of a genuine Christmas miracle.”
“I died,” Jonas said just above a whisper. It was more of a statement than a question.
“It would seem that you still have work to do in this life,” the cop said as he placed Jonas’s signed football on the gurney with him. “Second chances are hard to come by. Don’t waste yours.”
Part II
“If a thief be found breaking up, and be smitten that he die, there shall no blood be shed for him.”
—Exodus 22:2 (KJV)
Chapter Six
Jonas sat in the window of his apartment, gazing longingly out the window. Spring was closing in, which meant the weather was starting to break. It hadn’t snowed in quite some time, and the biting chill had finally started to taper off. The block was busy that day. The first signs of decent weather always brought the bears out of hibernation.
Just below, he saw Fat Moe from the second floor wheeling his mini-grill out of the building. He was a plump, slovenly man who was missing most of the top teeth in his mouth. His signature nappy wool skully was sitting cocked on his head like a rolled-up condom. Fat Moe was one of those people that would drag his mini-grill out all year-round as long as he had somewhere dry to set it up. He flashed a passing woman a smile, showing off the empty space in the top of his mouth where his teeth used to reside. Fat Moe looked a mess the majority of the time, but despite his appearance, no one could deny the fact that he could cook his ass off. People in the neighborhood often made fun of Fat Moe, but Jonas had love for him. Moe had always been good to the Rafferty children, and whenever he was around, they knew they wouldn’t go hungry. It was Fat Moe who had taught Sweets how to cook when they were younger. Fat Moe was like family.
Fat Moe must’ve felt Jonas’s eyes on him because he looked up, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. “Hey, Jonas! I’m about to set up in the park. You want a dog?” he called up.
“Maybe later, Moe,” Jonas said sadly. He wanted nothing more than to go downstairs and enjoy not only one of Fat Moe’s hot dogs but also some fresh air too. It wasn’t happening, though. Ever since the accident in Central Park, Jonas had been on lockdown.
By the time Jonas was rushed into St. Luke’s Hospital, news of what had happened to him had already spread through his hood. This was thanks to Ace and Cal telling everyone, including Sweets. She had damn near beaten him to the hospital. They wouldn’t let Sweets in to see him because she was a minor, so they had to wait for their mother to show up. Janette arrived about forty minutes after, with Yvette, Anette, and Josette in tow. To Jonas’s surprise, Janette managed to look halfway decent. Her clothes were clean, and her hair was brushed back into a ponytail, no doubt in case Social Services showed up, and she had to play the role of a caring mother. One look in her eyes, however, and you could tell she was high, but she was at least functional.
All of the sisters were pretty shaken up by what had happened, especially Josette. She cried until Jonas let her crawl into the hospital bed with him and assured her that he was okay. At one point, she asked him, “Did you see God?” It was an innocent question, but one Jonas wasn’t sure how to answer. He was sure he had seen something as he crossed between worlds, but he wasn’t sure what. He could remember crossing over, and someone being there to greet him when he arrived in the afterlife, and that’s when he heard the small voice: “Not yet,” and just like that, he was snatched back to the land of the living.
They kept Jonas overnight for observation and released him the next morning with a follow-up appointment. His stay at the hospital turned out to be almost as eventful as his near-death experience. He shared a room with another boy and his unruly family. From speaking to the boy, he’d learned that his name was Cain. Like Yvette and Anette, he was a twin but looked nothing like his brother Abel. Cain had come in with burns to his face and damage to one of his eyes. According to his mother, the boy had sustained the injuries due to a defective coffeepot that had shattered when she heated it. The story didn’t sound right to Jonas. It must’ve smelled fishy to the doctors too because Social Services were called in, and Cain was taken away during the night. Cain’s mother cursed the Social Service workers for taking her kid. Even little Abel tried to fight to keep them from taking his brother, but Cain was silent. He seemed almost happy to be taken away from his mother. Years later, when their paths crossed again, Jonas would learn the truth about Cain’s “accident.” He had been burned and blinded when his mother’s crack pipe exploded in his face.
Things had changed for Jonas after the accident. Whether for the better or worse was still up for debate. When he got home, he found out that he had become somewhat of a local celebrity. All the local news stations were reporting on what was being called a “Christmas Miracle.” Apparently, it wasn’t every day that little boys spent nearly four minutes at the bottom of frozen lakes and lived to tell the tale. Reporters stalked Jonas and his family, day and night, all wanting to get the exclusive on the boy who had cheated death. They even stalked him at school . . . until the principal had threatened to file harassment charges if the reporters didn’t quit.
After a while, Jonas’s celebrity status had begun to fade, and this is about the time when operation lockdown began. Jonas had always bee
n given a great deal of freedom for a kid his age, but after almost losing him, Janette put him on a short leash. He had to come straight home after school every day and was no longer allowed to run the streets with his friends. On the rare occasions that he was allowed to go outside, he couldn’t go any farther than the stoop where Janette could watch him from the window. Of course, he tried to sneak off every chance he got, but he never made it too far for too long before either his mother or one of his sisters tracked him down. Whenever he was caught, Jonas could always expect a good ass whipping to follow. Eventually, he gave up and accepted the fact that he had become a prisoner in his own home.
The one good thing that came from his sentence was the fact that in order to enforce it meant Janette had to be around to do so. She still managed to find time to run the streets but not as much. For the most part, she stayed close to the house. There were those times when Slick dragged her out to handle business, and sometimes she wouldn’t come back until the next morning. Those were the times she left Sweets to enforce her rule. Though Janette would never come out and admit it, almost losing her only son had rattled her. Not enough to get her act together but enough to at least pay attention. That period of time was the only one where he could remember Janette actually acting like she gave a fuck about him, and it made Jonas feel good. What child didn’t crave the love of their mother?