#3 Turn Up for Real

by Stephanie Perry Moore

  “What would you have done if they would have shot you?”

  “I guess I wouldn’t be running for mayor,” he joked. “But I believe in all the citizens of Charlotte, even the ones who have lost their way. I was here and had to help.”

  All the attention turned to Sam, who was carrying a badly beaten person in his arms. Blood was dripping profusely. From my distance, I couldn’t tell if he was shot or if he was just plain beaten up. But whatever he was wearing, Ms. Hardy recognized it.

  “My baby, my baby!” She pushed through the cops and ran toward her son.

  “I need paramedics!” Sam called out.

  The medics rushed to get Avery on a stretcher. My dad wasn’t there to hold me back anymore, but I didn’t want the cops to stop me either, so I ran to Avery. One of his eyes was completely shut. The other was barely open. His face looked unrecognizable.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry,” he said in an altered voice that sounded painful.

  His mother looked over at me and smiled. “If she wouldn’t have told us where you were, Avery, they could have killed you.”

  Getting upset as he saw me so distraught, he said again, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” she said. I knew he was sorry I was brought back there for another horrific encounter.

  I guess my face said it all. I was so devastated to see him that way. My eyes were puffy too, and I was crying.

  “Slade …”

  “Shh! Don’t talk,” I said to him.

  “Thank you,” he uttered, as a teardrop fell from his one opened eye.

  My dad came near us, and I said, “Thank my dad.”

  Avery uttered, “Sir, I’m, I’m …”

  My dad touched his shoulder to ease him from talking and said, “Young man, I don’t know what you’re mixed up in.”

  “I owed ’em, sir. Just wanted to catch ’em doing what they do. They … they caught me,” Avery talked anyway, though he could barely get words out.

  My father said, “Whatever you were trying to do might have seemed good in theory, but nothing is worth losing your life. You’re too young to be caught up with these guys anyway. I hope you young people get it. There is just no get-rich-quick scheme.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SUPERSTAR

  “Avery! It’s you! Oh my gosh are you okay?” I said into the receiver the next day, happy that he dialed my phone.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m back home. Just had some stitches and and a lot of bruises. They didn’t even keep me overnight at the hospital. I hope your dad is not too mad at me. He’s really the hero.”

  “Yeah …” I said, proud of my father.

  Candidate Stanley Sharp had been all over the news the last twenty-four hours. My dad’s campaign manager was saying he was going to win for sure. Over the last three months, he was the big hit at three big news stations. In August, he revealed that unlike his opponent, he was going to work to rid the city of domestic violence. In September, he helped to reveal that at a foster care house, the person in charge was taking advantage of the kids in state care. Now, he helped bust a big drug house.

  “I hope he does win. Mad respect for the man. He is fearless. I can’t believe he got in there and helped me like that. I know you would have never forgiven me if something would have happened to your dad trying to save me,” Avery said.

  “Well, can you tell me why you did it? Why’d you go back there, and you didn’t have his money? You know Boots is crazy.”

  “I know. I thought I could reason with him.”

  “No, Avery, that’s not all. I don’t know if you remember, but you mentioned some scheme, some plan, something you were trying to catch them in. Obviously, it had to do with the drugs. Why are you trying to be a hero?”

  “Because, I got to get my momma out of this mess I got her in. Honestly, I thought if I had evidence on what he was doing, I could reason with him to give me more time.”

  “But you’re going to pay him back with your voice. You won the contest for Mundy Records.”

  “No, I guess that’s what made me all crazy. I thought I was going to get an advance, be able to pay Boots back, get him off of my back, but I got a call from the record label, and the owner man told me he might have to close his business.”

  “What?” I said, shocked. “Are you serious?”

  “I wish I was joking. Just when I thought I was catching a break, stuff goes wrong. I won the big contest, now I have nothing,” Avery uttered with real despair in his voice.

  Actually, I remembered being in Mr. Mundy’s office, and he was telling my father and me how tough times were for his business. But neither of us realized that he truly meant within the next week he was going to have to close his doors. My dad had to know. Maybe he could help.

  “Why don’t you get some rest?” I said to Avery, thinking I needed to take this info to my father who had a track record of fixing everything.

  “Wait, I got all your messages about wanting to cut a demo.”

  “But you got to get well first,” I told him, knowing that was most important.

  “I need that loot that you were going pay me to do it. How about in the next couple of days, you and your girl get into the studio and we lay this track?”

  “If you’re up to it …”

  Cutting me off and wanting to show he was tough, he said, “Y’all just practice. I’ll be fine.”

  I wanted to tell him that if everything with Mundy Records didn’t work out, then maybe I could sign him to Sharp Records, but I didn’t want to insult him like that. He was talented, and my label was just starting.

  Avery made me feel real good when out of the blue he said, “Who knows? Maybe you get distribution going, and you can make me one of your artists.”

  I just smiled through the phone. I was working to make sure my future records had a way to get in the hands of the consumers. Yeah, I could sell out of my trunk, but if I got distribution in stores, I’d be rolling.

  “My mom thinks you’re an angel,” he said, extending the conversation.

  “Really? I thought she hated me,” I replied, thinking back on all our interactions.

  “What? You think she feels you’re a little nosy, stuck-up, rich girl?” he teased.

  “That sounds more accurate.”

  “Well she ain’t mad at you being nosy anymore. Come on, if it wouldn’t have been for you, she wouldn’t know where I was. Big thanks, Slade. Straight up, big thanks,” he said, being really sweet before we hung up.

  I was sitting in the living room waiting on my parents to come home. I needed to tell my dad what was going on with Mundy Records, but all of a sudden, Shelby and Ansli cornered me.

  “Uh, you deserve a prize,” my oldest sister said.

  “What are you talking about?” I said to Shelby, unsure of how to take her probe.

  “Out of all the stuff the two of us have been through recently, bringing a bunch of attention to this family, girl, you take the cake, dealing with drug dealers. What were you thinking?” Shelby asked as she hit me upside the head.

  “You two ought to understand. This guy caught my eye and …”

  Shelby cut me off and mocked, “Yeah, we understand. He pulled you into some of everything.”

  “Right,” Ansli said as she threw a concerned glare my way.

  “Just be careful, alright, Slade?” Shelby said to me. “If you hang with some of those people, you’ll be rolling in the fast lane, and there’s no way you can slow down.”

  I was irritated because my sisters were acting like I wanted to be down with drug dealers. They knew guys could drag you into more than you wanted to know about or be involved in. However, I just nodded, trying not to be so defensive.

  When my parents came home, Shelby and Ansli went with Mom to get details about the galleria event they had attended. Shelby wanted to hear all about the fashion, and Ansli wanted to see the pictures and upload them onto social media sites.

 
I was happy for the alone time with my father so I could tell him what I knew. He seemed weird, though. I couldn’t figure out what was up.

  Soon as I went to speak, he said, “Slade, I need to talk to you.”

  “Yes, sir,” I reluctantly said as I followed him to his office, getting the feeling that what he was about to say wasn’t good.

  When we got into his office, he got right to it. “I just want to tell you I don’t expect you to be hanging out with that young man from yesterday anymore.”

  “But Dad…”

  “Don’t ‘but Dad’ me …”

  “No, I need him to help me with my music,” I passionately explained.

  “Honey, when you were with his mom, he was apologizing to me for almost getting you raped. I don’t even know if he knew what he was saying because he was beat up so bad, but the fact that he put you in harm’s way, exposing you to those guys, means I got to cut it off. So I’m telling you now that I don’t want you to have anything to do with him. Do you got it?” he pointed at me and sternly stated.

  Angrily I gritted my teeth and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “And what did you want to see me about?”

  “He was supposed to be getting a record deal from your friend Mr. Mundy.”

  “Well, good for him,” my dad replied, clearly half caring.

  I tugged on my dad’s shoulder so he could reconsider. I uttered, “I’m saying he’s not all bad.”

  Letting me know there was no negotiating, he said, “Okay, but you’re not going to deal with him. I’m telling you. We just talked about that.”

  “I know, I’m just saying Mr. Mundy is having issues with his record label. I think he’s going to have to shut it down.”

  “What? No!” my dad said, and he looked through his cell phone and dialed his friend.

  They talked for a few minutes, and my dad put him on a three-way call with his banker friend. It was amazing the connections my father had. Nothing was promised over the phone, but Mr. Mundy had a meeting the next day. I could overhear Mr. Mundy telling my dad how much he appreciated him hooking that up.

  “Slade, you and your sisters are something fierce.”

  I left out of the office with my lips poked out, and he stopped me.

  “Hey, don’t get mad at me because I don’t want my daughter connected to a loser. I’m just saying,” my father said.

  He might as well be saying my life was over. I had a connection to Avery. Some kind of way I was going to have to figure out how to keep it going.

  “Slade, I’m just glad we’re friends. I’ve needed a good girlfriend. So many people have wanted to be my friend because of what they thought I could do for them or what my dad could do to help them, with him being the superintendent and all. You understand all that with your dad being important, too. You don’t want anything from me,” Charlotte said and she looked down, probably thinking about how shady people can be.

  “I want you and me to practice. How ’bout that?” I said to her, as I tried to lighten the mood.

  Not that I didn’t want to get deep and have a good close girlfriend either, but I wanted us to practice because we were finally going to be going into the studio to cut a song. Charlotte talked me into setting it up with Avery and going around my dad. We hoped maybe the great sound would change his mind. Though I wasn’t comfortable with the sneak idea, I felt I had no choice. And when we stepped into the studio, I wanted us to be prepared. Time was money in the studio. Since it was my money we’d be spending, I wanted to make it count.

  “We can practice in just a sec, but I’m serious,” she said, a little melancholy.

  I knew why she was serious. Charlotte had invited me to have dinner with her whole family after we finished practicing. In a way, I guarded my family, and I’m sure she did, too. I understood people wanting something from you because of your dad’s status. Her dad was a superintendent, and I wasn’t sure if my dad was going to be the mayor, but from the looks of things, he had a pretty good shot. With the election just a week away, maybe Charlotte could give me some advice.

  “So, with your dad having an important job and all, when people approach you, how do you know they’re sincere?” I asked.

  “If I don’t know them at all, then I’m real leery. If I do know them and they still want to talk to my dad or want me to relay a message to my father, then I just have to hear them out. I realize that I am in a strong position, having my dad’s ear and all. He can’t be everywhere at all times, and I see what’s going on at school. His job is to work for the citizens of the city, and, for sure, that includes the students, especially since he is the superintendent. If I know something is not right and I can help someone with a good reason get access to my dad, then I feel I’m supposed to do that.”

  Just as Charlotte said that, it dawned on me. I needed to talk to her father. Maybe he was the key to helping Taylor’s mom’s music program not get cancelled. We practiced a little, and right before we were going to dinner, I turned to Charlotte and gave her an intense look.

  I said, “Okay, I’m one of those people who need you to help me get to your father.”

  “Huh?” she replied, confused.

  Getting worked up because I wanted her to know I was really her friend, I said, “I mean, I don’t want you to think that I am here because I want to talk to your dad. I mean, it just came up and…”

  “Okay, Slade, I know you. What’s up? What’s going on?”

  I shared everything with her. She was so appalled imagining the faces of the little kids having nowhere to go after school that she grabbed my hand, dragged me to her father, and had me tell him everything. Her father took in everything I said and committed to helping figure it out.

  What was so awesome was that the next day, her dad and her cutie pie younger brother, Paris, came with me to Taylor’s mom’s afterschool class. The little kids sang for the superintendent. After they sang, he talked to a couple of them.

  One little girl named Scarlet said, “Mr. Tendent, I love being here after school. I’m smarter because I sing. I make better grades now. I’m real confident. Please don’t take this away.”

  A little freckle-faced boy named Ben said, “My mommy don’t live with us no more. I don’t know where she is, and my dad’s in jail. I live with Nana. She loves me in this program. She says I’m not bad anymore. Please don’t take it away.”

  And then a little boy named T.K. said, “I used to get bad marks in school ’til I started seeing Ms. Dale after school. Now I make good grades. You take away the only thing I’m good at, then I’ll go back to being dumb again.”

  “No, young man. You will stay smart. I’m going work it out some way,” Charlotte’s father declared, making the room erupt with delight. “I promise the budget will be reworked to keep this program.”

  When he said that, all the little kids in the afterschool program—approximately fifteen—rushed up and hugged him really tight. Then, they surrounded me. I couldn’t get out of the place. The kids wanted to play with me, and they thanked me with tickles. The superintendent shook my hand and thanked me for caring. Taylor’s mom hugged me, and said I went above and beyond.

  What really got to me was before I left, Taylor stopped me. “Everything I put you through … you still helping my mom like this makes you the best person I know. I was an idiot to throw our friendship away. Dayna and Caylen get so jealous sometimes. It’s like they don’t want us to hang out with anybody outside of our group. I let them get in my head, and I threw a good friendship out the window. Right now, I guess I’m just asking you to … I don’t know … give me another chance.”

  “Hey, you guys hurt me,” I said. Then I knew I did care for her boo, and she didn’t know that. “But I’m not perfect either. I was fighting y’all too. I’m just glad it seems like it’s going to work out. These kids deserve a program.”

  “And you deserve a big apology,” Taylor said. “I’m trying to give one.”

  “You gave me one before. You weren
’t totally wrong about me liking your guy.”

  “Avery’s reached out and shared how everything went down with y’all and that I lost him because of my own crazy actions way before he met you. The right one for me will come along. You told me that, and I need a friend like you in my life,” she said as we hugged.

  I was supposed to be headed to the studio with Charlotte, but it just didn’t seem right because my father told me to stay away from Avery. I had to get him to change his mind. I just didn’t feel like it would work out if I went around him. But as soon as I went to him to plead my case, he didn’t give me a chance to speak because he needed my help with a campaign event.

  “But, Dad, I need to talk to you.”

  “No, no, no. I’m rushing. I just need you to come and go with me,” he said, giving me no choice.

  In the limo, I couldn’t even talk to him because he was on his phone. I dozed off. When he told me to wake up, I was shocked to see we were at the Renaissance Theater.

  “What are we doing here, Dad?” I asked.

  There were lots of cars there too, but my dad was rushed off by his campaign team. Avery’s mom rushed up to my father and whisked him away. I could only make out a part of the conversation when she said, “Thank you for helping me save my theater.” What was my dad up to? What was going on? Why were we here? Why were all these people here, and where was Avery?

  “Hey, Ms. Sharp,” someone touched me on the shoulder and said.

  When I turned around, I was surprised to see Mr. Mundy. “Hey, sir.”

  “I got to tell you, you and Avery really pulled it off,” he shared, letting me in on something I did not know.

  Confused, I shook my head. I remember my dad was talking to him on the phone and put him in touch with the banker, but that was a week ago. What had happened since then? What did I miss?

  Recognizing that I was dumbfounded, he explained, “I got a loan. My company isn’t going under. I’m about to showcase Avery as a new artist along with my top selling group too.”