Wrath

by K'wan

  “Hey.” Jonas took a seat on the steps next to her.

  “Hey, yourself,” Jewels replied. “Thought you might be hungry.” She produced a paper plate wrapped in plastic. “My uncle fried some fish, and we had extra.”

  “Thanks.” Jonas accepted the plate and began unwrapping it. Jewels watched him while he tore into the crispy fish. “Look, about earlier . . . I’m sorry I sent you away.”

  “It’s fine. I know me being around all the time is starting to crowd you,” Jewels said with a hint of embarrassment.

  “Nah, I like having you around. You’re always there for me when I need a shoulder to lean on, and I appreciate it.”

  “Thanks,” Jewels beamed. The fact that he had finally acknowledged her made her feel good. “Well, it’s getting late. I should be going.” She stood to leave.

  “You wanna come inside for a few?” Jonas wasn’t sure what made him ask other than the fact that he didn’t want to be alone.

  Jewels studied his face. There was something about the way he was looking at her that was different. For the first time, he wasn’t seeing her as one of the gang but as a young woman. “Sure, I’d like that very much.”

  That night turned out to be one that both Jonas and Jewels would remember for years to come. It was the night their relationship changed, and they became more than just friends. If Jonas had to describe it in a word, it would have to have been “beautiful.” As they explored each other on his twin bed, all the troubles in their lives melted away. They were the only two people in the world. Little did either of them know it was the calm before the coming storm.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The morning of Doug’s funeral, Jonas woke up feeling ill, much like he had on the day they attacked Black. He chalked it up to his nerves. He had been to funerals before for relatives and such but never for one of his friends. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to go through with it, but he had to go and pay his respects.

  Jonas didn’t own a suit, so he had to opt for a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt that Sweets had gotten for him from the thrift store. The only thing he was missing was a tie, which he was sure he could find amongst Slick’s things. When he came out of his bedroom, he was surprised to find Sweets in the kitchen, still in her pajamas. She was brewing a pot of tea on the stove.

  “Why aren’t you dressed? I thought you were going with me to Doug’s funeral,” Jonas questioned. He had been counting on Sweets to be there with him for moral support.

  “I can’t. Jo-Jo isn’t feeling well, and somebody has got to stay here with her,” Sweets told him. “Anette and Yvette will be with you, though.”

  “Shit, I might as well be going by myself,” he grumbled.

  “Language!” she scolded him.

  “Sorry, Sweets. Where’s Mama? Why can’t she stay with her?” Jonas asked.

  “I haven’t seen her since this morning. She had to run Slick to the emergency room,” Sweets informed him.

  “Jesus, what happened to him now?”

  “Heck if I know. He came in here all busted up with a cut on his head. Looks like somebody beat him up pretty good,” Sweets filled him in.

  “I wish they’d kill his ass already so he can get out of our house,” Jonas half-joked.

  Sweets abandoned the pot of tea and turned to her brother with her arms folded. “How many times am I going to have to tell you about wishing death on people? There is power in words, and you need to watch what kind of energy you send out into the world, lest it come back around to you.”

  “Whatever.” Jonas sucked his teeth. He walked into his mother’s room to search for a tie. Janette’s bedroom was a pigsty, as usual. There were clothes strewn everywhere, most of them dirty. He was digging through a pile of Slick’s clothes in search of a tie when he felt something heavy in one of the pockets of his pants. Curiously, he pulled it out. It was a switchblade with a pearl-white handle. Jonas ejected the blade and studied it in wonder. He didn’t give it a second thought before slipping it into his shirt pocket. He doubted Slick would even realize it was missing. Even if he did, he couldn’t prove it had been Jonas who took it.

  After dressing, he and the twins headed out to the bus stop. As they were passing the corner store, Juan was at his usual position, standing outside and smoking a cigarette. Yvette gave him a friendly wave, to which Juan flicked the cigarette and went back inside the store. Yvette didn’t understand the dry response, but Jonas did. He smiled sheepishly to himself.

  The bus ride to the funeral home was a short one. In fact, they probably could’ve walked, but Anette kept complaining about her shoes pinching her feet. The whole ride, the twins cackled back and forth like old hens, while Jonas just stared aimlessly out the window. The closer they got to the funeral home, the sicker he felt. When they got off the bus, he nearly threw up.

  “You okay?” Anette asked in a concerned tone. Jonas just nodded.

  “Boy, bring your ass on so we can get in and out of here. I got shit to do,” Yvette capped and sashayed inside the funeral home.

  The first thing Jonas noticed was the scent. The whole place smelled like someone had tried to scrub away the stench of death with a cleanser but couldn’t get it all. As they crossed into the room where Doug’s body was being viewed, Jonas wished he’d had Ace with him. He had spoken to him the night before and knew that Ace was taking it hard that he couldn’t be there. He and Doug were closer than any of them. But the police were still looking for Ace in connection with Black.

  Jonas was surprised at how few people showed up. There were a couple of faces from the neighborhood that he recognized, and others that he didn’t. The rest, he assumed, were friends of the family. He saw Alex standing off to the side being consoled by Bo, of all people. Seeing them together made Jonas angry, and had it not been for the fact that they were at a funeral, he’d have socked him again. Alex must’ve felt Jonas staring because she turned around and looked in his direction. Jonas gave her a friendly wave, to which she smiled back dryly before turning her attention back to Bo. What was that all about?

  Mr. Hightower was sitting on a bench in the front row, consoling Mrs. Hightower who was a mess. Every time she looked like she was pulling it together, she was hit with another wave of sobs. Jonas felt bad for her. He could imagine what it must’ve felt like for a mother having to bury her son. He prayed he would never put his mother through such agony.

  It was now the moment of truth . . . Jonas’s turn to say his goodbyes to his friend. He got halfway down the aisle and suddenly stopped. He tried to will his feet to move but couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot. People were now starting to look. He was finally able to force himself the rest of the way down the aisle to say farewell to his friend.

  Doug was laid out in a gray casket, trimmed in silver. They had dressed him in all-white silk. When Jonas finally forced himself to look upon his friend, he found that he hardly recognized Doug. His face was swollen, and the makeup hadn’t been blended properly with his complexion. There was a raised section on his head, just below his hairline, that was darker than the rest. Upon closer inspection, Jonas realized that it was where they tried to cover the bullet hole in his head with makeup. That was the moment when it became real to Jonas, that his friend was gone.

  He felt dizzy, and for a minute, he thought he was going to pass out, then the most unexpected thing happened. He felt a set of fingers snake through his. He turned and was surprised to see his sister Anette. “I got you, little brother. I got you.”

  Jonas whispered a silent prayer over Doug and then tore himself away from the casket. He noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Hightower were watching him. There was an awkward moment, and he decided that it would be best if he went over and said something. He excused himself from his sister and went to speak to the Hightowers.

  Jonas’s steps were timid as he approached. Mr. Hightower’s face was blank and hard, but Mrs. Hightower’s eyes burned into Jonas as he leaned in to whisper. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry ab
out Doug.”

  Mrs. Hightower nodded . . . before slapping Jonas across the face. “You have no right to be here!”

  “But, I—” Jonas was stunned.

  “Get out!” Mrs. Hightower’s voice echoed throughout the funeral home.

  “I think it’s best you leave,” Mr. Hightower said softly, then went to console his wife.

  Jonas looked around the room and realized everyone was looking at him, including Alex. He was both hurt and embarrassed about how Mrs. Hightower had treated him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, at least as far as he knew, but she had made it clear that he was unwelcome. He could feel his eyes welling with tears, so he rushed out of the funeral home before anyone could see them fall.

  * * *

  By the time Jonas made it outside, he was crying freely and nearly to the point of hyperventilating. Passersby gave him curious looks, but he was in too bad of a shape to care about what anyone thought of the spectacle. His whole world felt like it was crashing down.

  “Jonas,” a small voice called from behind him. He turned to find Alex standing in the doorway of the funeral home. She was wearing an expression of pity.

  “Don’t worry. Tell your mother that I’m leaving.” He wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt.

  “That’s not why I’m here. I wanted to check on you,” she told him.

  “I’m good,” Jonas lied.

  “No, you’re not. Your friend just died, and you’re hurting. You have a right to be hurt.”

  “But not a right to be here to send him off?” Jonas questioned.

  Alex was quiet for a time. “I’m sorry . . . about the way my mom treated you in there. She’s taking my brother’s death really hard, and I guess seeing you just reminded everybody of why my brother was killed.”

  “Wait? Y’all think I shot Doug?” Jonas was shocked.

  “No, nothing like that.” Alex hesitated. “Look, I don’t have it in me to sugarcoat this, so let me just keep it real. Doug got killed because of what you and Ace did to that boy.”

  “Alex, I—”

  “Jonas, please don’t lie to me . . . not today,” she cut him off. “Everybody knows Ace was behind it, and I know you and Ace are as thick as thieves. I don’t know if you had anything to do with it, but I’m sure you were there.”

  Alex knew Jonas better than he thought. He could try to lie, but it would be pointless. “Alex, all we were trying to do was look out for Doug. Y’all are like family to us.”

  Alex laughed. Not because it was funny, but because she couldn’t think of any other response. “If this is how you and Ace take care of family, scratch me off the list. You know, I used to think you were smarter than Ace and them, but I guess I was wrong. You’re determined to be just another dumb nigga dead or in jail.” She shook her head sadly.

  “Alex.” Mr. Hightower appeared in the doorway of the funeral home.

  “I gotta go. I hope one of these days you wake up. I don’t think I could take going to your funeral next. See you around, Raf.” Alex walked off.

  Jonas stood there for a time, weighing what Alex had just laid on him. Her words were sharp and almost cruel, but she wasn’t wrong. Alex was mad at him, but when she calmed down, he would make it up to her. He would show her that he wasn’t just another dumb nigga. What he didn’t know at the time was it would be many years before they would get to have that conversation. A few weeks after they buried Doug, the Hightowers shipped Alex down south to stay with her aunt and uncle. The streets had taken one child from them, and they wouldn’t give them another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It would be several hours before Jonas went back to his neighborhood. After he left the funeral home, he just walked aimlessly around the city, thinking about his life and the direction it was going in. Seeing Doug in that casket had gotten Jonas to thinking about his own mortality. He didn’t want to go out like that, with his mother crying over his corpse. He didn’t want to die just another nigga in the streets.

  When he got to his building, he found Ace and Mula waiting for him. They were passing a blunt back and forth and sipping something that was hidden inside a brown paper bag. Ace’s eyes had bags under them, and his face was drawn. He looked stressed out. Mula was his usual, unreadable self.

  “What y’all fools doing?” Jonas greeted them.

  “Chasing the pain away,” Mula replied and extended the joint to Jonas.

  Jonas had smoked weed before, but he wasn’t a smoker. That night, he felt like getting numb, though, so he accepted it. He took a deep pull, held it in his chest, and then began to cough. This caused all three of them to laugh. Laughter was definitely something they all could use a dose of at that moment.

  “Careful, that’s that Purple Haze.” Mula took the blunt back.

  “Tastes like exhaust fumes.” Jonas continued coughing.

  “Wash it down with this.” Ace handed him the brown paper bag.

  Jonas took a deep swing. It burned, but only for a second, and then a soothing sensation passed through him. It was the first time he had ever had a drink, and he had to admit that he rather liked it.

  “You just getting back?” Ace asked.

  “Yeah, the funeral was over awhile ago, but I needed to clear my head,” Jonas told him.

  “They do a good job on him?” Ace asked, taking the blunt from Mula.

  “Yeah, looked just like Doug,” Jonas lied.

  “Good,” Ace exhaled. “Really wish I could’ve been there. At least to offer my condolences to his parents, ya know?”

  “I know. It’s all good, I let them know we were all sorry,” Jonas told him. It didn’t make sense to tell Ace about how Mrs. Hightower had treated him. He was going through enough as it was.

  Eight-Ball came waddling out of Jonas’s building, hands cupped around his mouth while he lit a cigarette. When he noticed the boys standing outside, he frowned. “You little niggas is blocking the doorway,” he growled. Ace and Jonas moved without saying a word, but Mula lingered for a beat before letting Eight-Ball shoot him a dirty look. Still, Mula held his gaze. “You got a problem, shorty?”

  “Nah, boss. No problem at all,” Mula grinned. He was clearly taunting Eight-Ball, which meant he had his gun on him. One thing Mula had already proven; it didn’t matter to him where he shot a man or who was watching.

  “You looking for Slick?” Jonas asked, trying to ease the tension rather than actually wanting to have a conversation with the gangster.

  Eight-Ball looked at Jonas, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. “Nah, I ain’t looking for Slick. His debt has been wiped. We all squared up,” he chuckled and walked off.

  “Why you always gotta go antagonizing that dude?” Ace asked Mula once Eight-Ball had gone.

  “First of all, I don’t even know what antagonize means. Second, fuck Eight-Ball!” Mula said louder than he needed to. He never cared for Eight-Ball, but at that point, he would never tell them why.

  “Well, you need to be careful. Eight-Ball runs this neighborhood, and we don’t want no problems with a nigga like him,” Ace warned.

  “Man, I don’t give a fuck about Eight-Ball or nobody else. Every man bleeds the same,” Mula said defiantly.

  “Hey, y’all.” Jewels appeared and drained some of the testosterone away. She was coming from the direction of Juan’s store, carrying a plastic shopping bag.

  “Hope you didn’t have to do anything crazy for that,” Jonas half-joked.

  Jewels ignored the insult and turned her attention to Ace, who was still toking on the blunt. “Let ya girl hit that.”

  “Your little lungs ain’t ready for this high grade,” Ace teased her.

  “Boy, please.” She plucked the blunt from between his fingers. Jewels hit it like a champ, held the smoke, then exhaled it through her nose.

  “Damn, baby hit that thang like a vet!” Mula said in adoration.

  “Told y’all,” Jewels said proudly. “So, what y’all getting into?”

  “We ab
out to head to Mula’s aunt’s crib in Jefferson Projects in a few,” Ace told her.

  “Yeah, she’s gonna be gone all night, so we gonna get smoked out,” Mula added.

  “You trying to come hang with a nigga?” Ace asked suggestively.

  “I don’t know. Is Raf going?” Jewels looked at Jonas.

  “What, you need his approval before you make a move?” Ace joked.

  “Fuck you, Ace!” Jonas said more defensively than he intended to.

  Ace looked back and forth between Jonas and Jewels before a light of recognition went off in his head. “Oh, shit! Let me find out my boy’s hitting that!”

  “And what if he has?” Jewels snaked her neck defiantly.

  “My fault. I didn’t mean no disrespect.” Ace raised his hands in surrender. “So, y’all a couple now or what?”

  “We ain’t nothing,” Jonas said without thinking. A look of hurt flashed across Jewel’s face, but the liquor made him act like it didn’t matter. “Why you always gotta be up in everybody business anyhow?”

  “Damn, why you so sensitive all of a sudden?” Mula questioned.

  “Because I just buried one of my closest friends!” Jonas barked. It was only part of the reason he was so up in arms.

  “C’mon, man. We all a little fucked-up over Doug. Let’s just get back to this bottle and chill,” Ace tried to be the peacemaker.

  “Nah, I gotta dip. I got school in the morning. I’m about to call it a night.”

  “Why you leaving, kid? We still got a half bottle left, and Ace is about to roll up some more weed,” Mula said. He got on Jonas’s nerves, but he genuinely liked him.

  “Word, hang out with us. Just for a little while,” Ace tried to convince him.

  “I’m good. You coming?” Jonas asked Jewels.

  “I’m gonna hang out and smoke with Ace for a few. I’ll knock on your door later to see if you’re still up.” Jewels took a seat on the stoop.

  Her reply surprised Jonas, but he tried his best not to show it. “Fuck it then.” Jonas started into the building. The last thing he saw before going up the stairs was Ace drape his arm around Jewels.