by Paul Langan
“Show?” Hakeem said, watching her closely. She was leaning against the metal fence that separated the two backyards. In the glow of a nearby street light, Hakeem could see that she was stunning, perhaps his age or a bit older. Her dark skin was flawless, and her hair was cut short, making her look like a model from a fashion magazine. “If I knew there was a crowd, I would have sold tickets,” he joked.
She smiled again, and her face seemed to glow. Hakeem’s heart fluttered. “I’m sorry I snuck up on you, but I’m not used to hearing a guitar playing out here, so I had to investigate. It’s not everyday a girl gets a live performance in her backyard. I didn’t mean to ruin your vibe. ”
“That’s okay,” Hakeem replied, putting the guitar down. “I was just messing around, nothing serious. ”
“Well, it sure sounded serious to me. To be honest with you, I never heard a guitar sound so . . . pretty. ”
“Thanks,” Hakeem said, unsure whether he liked her description of his music. “I play when I need to clear my head. It helps me relax, you know?”
“I wish I could play like that,” she said. “Whenever I need to get away, I listen to music. I don’t make my own. ” For an instant, Hakeem thought he heard a sad note in her voice.
“Maybe you could take guitar lessons,” Hakeem suggested. “You better watch out, though. People may start spying on you when you least expect it,” he added, smiling.
“Maybe you could teach me?” she replied, seeming to ignore his comment. Hakeem could see a playful glint in her eye.
“That’s a lot to ask someone you don’t even know. ”
“You’re right,” she said, walking over to the fence directly across from him. “That’s why you should introduce yourself to me. What’s your name?”
Hakeem blinked, unprepared for her question. “I’m Hakeem,” he said.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hakeem. I’m Anika,” she said, moving closer and wrapping her fingers into the wire fence. “So tell me, what are you doing in my neighbor’s backyard?”
“This is my aunt and uncle’s house. My family and I just moved in from California. ”
“Oh, you’re that cousin Savon’s been talkin’ about?”
“You talk to Savon?” Hakeem asked.
“Not so much anymore, but I hear him all the time,” Anika replied, crossing her arms. “He’s always hangin’ on the corner with his crew, and you can’t miss his big mouth when he’s talkin’. I heard him complainin’ the other day ’bout how he had to share his room with some cousin from ‘Cali. ’” As she spoke, Anika mimicked Savon’s voice and manner.
Hakeem smiled at her imitation. “No wonder I got such a warm welcome,” he said.
“Well, if you ask me, it was you who got the bad end of that deal, not him. ” Anika tilted her head and raised her eyebrow to emphasize her point.
Hakeem rubbed his chin and tried to hide how much he enjoyed Anika’s company. She was so pretty, and she seemed completely honest. Looking at her, he couldn’t help noticing her body, the way her hips filled her denim skirt, the way her stomach was visible just beneath her snug T-shirt.
“So, you and Savon have known each other for a long time?” Hakeem asked.
“Ever since fifth grade, though it feels like forever. That’s when my mom skipped town with her smooth-talkin’ boyfriend,” Anika said bitterly. “She sent me here to stay with my grandma, and I been here ever since. But all that’s ancient history,” she added, shaking her head.
Again, Hakeem detected sadness in her voice. He wanted to know more about her.
Suddenly, the voice of an elderly woman yelled from inside Anika’s house.
“Anika!” the voice said.
“Uh oh, there goes my grandma again. She can’t get down the stairs too well without me,” Anika said, her face looking strained. “I love her, but sometimes, I just wanna run out that door and never come back. ”
Hakeem nodded, thinking about Savon and the summer ahead. “I know the feeling,” he said.
“Anika!” the frail voice called again. “Where are you, girl?”
“One second, Grandma!” Anika yelled, heading toward the house and then turning back to Hakeem. “Well, I gotta go. Grandma needs me,” she said quietly. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll see each other again, you know, for my guitar lesson. ”
“Definitely,” Hakeem replied, watching Anika disappear inside the blue house next door. As soon as she closed the door, Hakeem grabbed his notebook. He glanced at the lines he had written for Darcy earlier in the evening. Then he turned to a new page and began writing.
This time, what he wrote was not just about Bluford or Darcy. It was also about Detroit and what had happened to him since he arrived.
But most of all, he noticed as he reread the pages later that night, it was about Anika, the first person to make him feel as if the move to Detroit might not be so bad.
Chapter 3
Hakeem woke up the next morning in a daze. For an instant, he thought he was home in his old bed and that the move to Detroit had been a bad dream. But then he noticed the unfamiliar posters and felt the uncomfortable bedspring in his back and knew the move was all too real.
Reluctantly, Hakeem sat up and stretched. He heard the heavy, wet sound of snoring and glanced over at the bed across the room. Savon was asleep, buried under a layer of blankets. Only his foot was visible, poking out from beneath his blue sheet. Apparently, he had come in sometime after Hakeem had fallen asleep.
At least he’s quiet for once, Hakeem thought, enjoying the morning silence. A crumpled fifty-dollar bill lay on top of some papers on Savon’s desk.
How did he get that? Hakeem wondered.
Savon grunted and turned over, violently pulling the sheet tight against his body. For an instant, he looked eerily like a corpse in a body bag. Hakeem shuddered at the image.
After showering and getting dressed, Hakeem headed downstairs. His father and Uncle James were sitting together at the dining room table. They were talking but stopped suddenly when they saw him. The look on Dad’s face was grim.
“There’s my man,” Uncle James said, standing up and smiling broadly. “I was about to head up there and wake you, but your dad said you were tired from all that traveling. ”
“How you doin’, Uncle James?” Hakeem said, hugging him. It had been years since he had seen his uncle. Uncle James was two years older than Dad, but he looked ten years younger. Seeing him was like looking at a snapshot of Dad taken before the chemotherapy— another reminder of the past Hakeem could not reclaim.
“I’m doin’ all right,” he said, grasping Hakeem for several long seconds. Hakeem felt like a child in his uncle’s embrace. “I’m glad you got here safe and sound, and I like that you got up so early. Not everyone in this house is an early bird. ” Hakeem knew his uncle was referring to Savon, who was still sound asleep when Hakeem got out of the shower.
“Uncle James could use some help at the store, and I told him you were willing to lend a hand. He’s about to head over there now, and I thought you might want to go with him,” Dad said.
Hakeem knew he didn’t have a choice. If his father were healthy, he’d help Uncle James without any hesitation. But with him still recovering, the job was Hakeem’s.
“Hakeem, I can’t do what I used to do, not now anyway. I’m expecting you to fill in for me, until I get better,” he’d said. Since then, Hakeem had taken on many tasks around the house. He didn’t mind helping, but the many jobs made him feel different from other people his age, kids who didn’t have to save money for their parents, shop for groceries, take care of their sisters so Mom and Dad could go to the hospital. Dad’s request was the latest in a long list of jobs Hakeem got but never asked for.
“Sure, I’ll help,” Hakeem replied.
“That’s my man,” Uncle James answered, patting Hakeem on the shoulder.
Dad nodded, his tired eyes haunting Hakeem as he left the house with Uncle James.
The drive to t
he furniture store from Uncle James’s house took only about ten minutes, most of which were spent waiting at traffic lights. The store, JR’s Discount Furniture, sat in a strip mall bordered by Motown Liquors on one side and an Everything-for-$1 market on the other. The cracked asphalt parking lot was pocked with potholes and littered with broken glass.
As they neared the front door, Hakeem noticed that the entire storefront was hidden behind a thick metal screen.
“Me and Savon put this up about five years ago to protect the glass,” Uncle James said, unlocking the screen and hoisting it over his head until it disappeared above him like a garage door. “It ain’t easy doing business around here, but this is home, and I ain’t going nowhere else,” Uncle James added defiantly.
With the metal screen raised, Hakeem could see that the storefront was lined with thick glass panels facing the busy street. Each panel displayed giant letters that appeared to be handcut from neon pink paper. The sign nearest the door spelled out “Summer Sale! Sofas and Chairs 40% off. ” On the other side of the door, Hakeem noticed a smaller orange and black sign that read “Help Wanted. ”
Uncle James followed Hakeem’s eyes. “It’s hard to find decent help. I just fired a young man last week. He was unreliable, always callin’ out sick,” Uncle James explained as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
“Here it is, Hakeem. My home away from home,” Uncle James said proudly, spreading his arm out as if the entire world were his. The store consisted of two main aisles that stretched back from the front door. On the right side were a few sofas and chairs; on the left, a series of kitchen and dining room sets. Right in the middle was a display set up to look like a real living room, complete with sofa, love seat, coffee table, and a large fake tree. Its leaves were coated with a layer of fuzzy gray dust.
Hakeem smiled, imagining his friend Tarah’s reaction to the display. “Now that is one sorry living room!” she’d say. “And who would want a giant dust tree in their house? You’d have to pay me to put that anywhere except the trash. ”
“I started out in a tiny store a few blocks north of here,” Uncle James said, interrupting Hakeem’s thoughts. “I was just a few years older than you, working for an old guy who wanted to get out of the city. He sold his place to me. After working hard for a few years, I was able to move into this building where we got three times the space. ”
“Looks nice,” Hakeem replied politely.
Outside, an ambulance raced past the store, its sirens fading in the distance. Uncle James looked up for a second but then continued.
“A lotta stores have closed or moved out over the past few years. Me, I’m stayin’. This neighborhood needs businesses. Kids need to see that there are ways of makin’ a respectable living without gettin’ involved in the garbage that happens on these streets. Now if only I could get your thick-headed cousin to listen to me. All he wants to do is waste his time with his friends,” Uncle James complained wearily, flipping on a light switch.
Hakeem didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He had his own doubts about Savon, but he knew better than to share them with Uncle James. That would be asking for trouble.
“Listen, Hakeem,” Uncle James said, pausing as if he were searching for something. “Your pops told me how you’ve had to be the man around the house since he got sick, so I am gonna talk to you man to man. ”
“Okay,” Hakeem agreed, nervous about what his uncle had to say.
“Business’s been a little slow this year, and I had to let people go. Now, I’m doing the work of three people,” he explained. Hakeem could see that it was difficult for him to admit. “But I can handle that, especially with you around. Savon’s the one I’m worried about. ”
“Savon?”
“I think he might be headed for trouble, and he don’t listen to me or anybody anymore,” Uncle James confessed. “I was just hoping, now that you’re here, you could keep an eye on him. Maybe talk some sense into him too. ”
“I can try, but—”
“And listen to me, Hakeem,” Uncle James interrupted. “If you see anything that might be serious, you got to tell me, no matter what it is. I’m countin’ on you. ”
Hakeem could not argue with his uncle’s intense stare, but he wanted to. For months, he had struggled to help take care of his own family. Now, not only would he be doing that and helping his uncle; he was also to play big brother to Savon.
Savon hates me, Hakeem wanted to say, but Uncle James looked at him gravely, as if he were entrusting him with a great responsibility, something Hakeem could never question.
“Okay, Uncle James. I’ll keep an eye on him,” Hakeem agreed, though he felt as if he was being pulled into a trap he could never escape.
Nine hours later, Hakeem’s mother arrived to take him home. Hakeem was grateful to see her. He didn’t think he could stand another minute in the store.
In the morning, he had organized displays, packed up a chair, and helped unload two new sofas. In the afternoon, he had swept the aisles and scrubbed all the glass panels in the front of the store. It was as if Uncle James had saved work for months so he could make Hakeem do it.
“How was work today?” Mom asked as he collapsed into the passenger seat of Aunt Lorraine’s beat-up Nissan.
“It was okay,” he replied, releasing a deep sigh. His arms burned, his legs ached, and he felt as if he had run a marathon.
The drive back to the house took just a few minutes. As Hakeem wearily climbed the front steps, his mother put her hand on his shoulder. Her skin looked worn and thin in the late afternoon sun.
“You know, Hakeem, your dad and I are really sorry that we had to move you out here. ”
“I know, Mom. ”
“If there was any other way, we—”
“I know, I know,” Hakeem insisted, unable to hide his frustration. He knew the trap he was in. He didn’t need her to remind him again. “You told me a million times already. There’s nothing you can do. And there’s nothing I can do. I just gotta deal with things right now. Believe me, I understand. ”
“Understand what?” a voice cut in from inside the house. It was Dad, his forehead creased with concern. Hakeem’s mother’s hand dropped from his shoulder like a stone.
“Nothin’, Pop,” Hakeem said. For months, he had tried his best never to complain to his father. Dad had enough on his mind. “W-we were just talkin’ about work stuff. ”
“Oh,” his father replied. “Everything okay today?
“Yeah, Dad. Everything was fine. ”
“You sure, son?”
“I’m just tired, that’s all. And hungry,” he added, hoping to change the subject.
“Well, I think your aunt can take care of that,” Dad said, stepping aside so Hakeem could get to the dining room.
Savon rushed out of the dining room just as Hakeem entered. The two nearly collided.
“Hey, cuz, you gonna take my seat at the dinner table too?” Savon mumbled so no one else could hear him. His eyes glared with fury.
“What?” Hakeem asked. He wasn’t ready for his cousin, not now.
“Don’t act surprised. You’re already takin’ everything else,” he said with a scowl and then turned to his mother. “I’ll be back later tonight, Mom. I gotta help Tariq with something,” Savon said and then dashed out the door.
“Don’t be back too late,” Aunt Lorraine hollered, but Savon was already gone. “I swear that boy will give me an ulcer. ”
After dinner, Hakeem went upstairs, closed the door to the small bedroom, and collapsed on the bed. He wished he could go away, that no one would ask anything more of him. But then he heard a soft knock on the door.
“What?” he grumbled.
“What are you doing?” said a child’s voice. It was his sister Charmaine.
“I’m minding my own business. ” It was what he usually said to his sisters when he didn’t want to be bothered. But as soon as he said it, he felt guilty. He knew the adjustment to Detroi
t wasn’t any easier on them. “Come on in. ”
Charmaine and Charlene opened the door, walked in, and then sat on the bed next to him.
“How are you two doing today?” he asked.
“Fine,” Charmaine said. She looked at her sister and giggled.
“What is it?” he asked, trying to be patient with them.
“We met this pretty girl next door, and she told us that you’re supposed to teach her to play the guitar,” Charlene said.
Hakeem smiled, remembering his talk with Anika. “Is that all she said?”
“She said you’re cute, too,” Charlene added and then started to laugh.
“Oh, no she didn’t,” Hakeem said.
“Yes she did,” the girls replied together in between bouts of laughter.
“So what’s so funny about that? That just means she’s got good taste,” Hakeem said, tickling them both. Their laughter cheered him up, reminding him briefly of home and a time when cancer was something he’d heard of on TV, not seen in his own house.
Moments later, Hakeem heard a voice downstairs and knew that Uncle James was home. “You did good work today, Hakeem,” Uncle James yelled. “I hope you’re getting your rest. We got a big shipment coming tomorrow, and I sure could use you. ”
Hakeem cringed at the idea of another grueling day at the store, but he knew Dad was listening to his every word.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“Good. Don’t stay up too late. You’re gonna need your strength. ”
Without a word, the girls left the bedroom and closed the door.
Dreading the day to come, Hakeem changed out of his work clothes, stretched out on the bed, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
Chapter 4
“Let’s go, Hakeem,” Uncle James said, knocking on the bedroom door and jarring Hakeem from sleep. “We’re going in early. The dollar store next door got robbed. ”
Hakeem opened his eyes, saw the clock, and groaned. It was 7:30, and every muscle in his lower back was sore from the previous day’s work. I wanna go home, he thought.