This is for the first dozen Razadi who died from insidious weapons we'd never even imagined.
This is for Africa, whom you raped and pillaged.
This is for our scrolls, stolen to parts unknown.
This is for our families that we will never see again.
Take this hate, white men, young and old. Take these scratches from my fingers. Bleed for me.
Take these bites. Bleed for me. I won't give you the satisfaction of dying. I will watch the mosquitoes and flies feast on your blood just as I do, just like the animal you believe me to be.
I do this for Dominique.
I do this for Ariori.
I do this for my people.
I feed off your terror.
I feed off your blood.
Die for me.
I gasped deeply and released Justin as he regained consciousness on the floor of the gym. It was now almost dawn.
"Are you okay?" I asked. He slowly nodded.
"What about you?" he asked.
"I'm fine."
"I'm sorry that you lost Ariori. And Dominique."
"Olódùmarè has them now. There's no doubt of that."
Justin embraced me hard. The tears silently streamed from his face and onto my neck. We remembered a lifetime of death and pain, punctuated by twelve mangled white corpses, bled dry and baking in the Louisiana sun.
Thanksgiving
Victor had acquired a luxury SUV from some place or another and we drove it to Hamilton, New York—Justin's hometown—for Thanksgiving. I drove the truck until about the middle of Pennsylvania and switched with Justin the rest of the way. Victor, as usual, slept in the back seat.
"You drive pretty good," I said.
"Thanks," he said. "I had better. Wasn't nothing to do in Hamilton except sneak into college parties. You had to learn how to drive to get away from there."
"How did y'all end up in Hamilton?" I asked.
"Whatchu mean? We always been from there."
"Well, not always. At some point y'all were from Africa."
"Duh. I'm just saying we've been from Hamilton for as long as I could remember. My dad researched it one time and found out all that stuff. It's a small town but it's always had some sort of black presence."
"Interesting," I said. "So…would you change anything?"
"About Hamilton? Naw, it's straight. Just don't want to live there."
"I mean about us. About your transition."
"Oh. That."
"I mean, what you saw…our revenge on the Knights…"
"I don't want to talk about that," Justin said. He shifted in his seat as he drove but never let his attention wander from the road."
"It's just that-"
"It is what it is. You did what you did and it's over. If I had the powers you all had, I might have done the same."
"Okay," I said.
"You know, you don't have to be ashamed of what you went through."
"I know. It's hard, though. A lot of time has passed, but it all feels like yesterday."
"I can imagine."
"So knowing everything you know now, you're still cool. We're still cool?"
"Yes! We're good, Dante. Really, we are. This life chose me, but still, I am choosing this life. I am choosing you. Before you, before the Razadi, what did I have? Wake up, go to work, come home. Eat too much, drink too much, and sometimes fuck too much. But you guys brought a lot to my life. I've got friendships. I've got confidence. I've got power. I've got an entirely different outlook. So, would I change anything? Absolutely not. Because if I changed anything, I wouldn't have you."
I grinned and touched his free hand as he drove.
A few hours later, we were nearly there.
"Bonney Hill Road, here we are!" Justin announced. "Wake up, Victor, we're home!"
Victor stirred in the backseat and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and sniffed.
"Cute neighborhood," he sighed. We looked out at the big houses dotting the wooded street.
"Thanks!" Justin said. "We're almost at my parent's house."
I hadn't met anyone's parents in years, much less the parents of someone I was dating. I got nervous but immediately calmed myself down by realizing how much more anxious Justin must have been to see his family post-transformation.
We rolled up the long driveway with slim, bare trees lining it. There were still a few red and orange leaves dotting the grass, but they had largely been raked up already.
"Tudor house?" I asked, noticing the steep gabled roofs, contrasting brown and beige panels, and rounded windows. "Yup. Growing up? Felt like a mansion in the forest. Now it looks smaller and smaller very time I come home."
Justin parked the car on the grass next to a long line of other vehicles. We were likely the last of the family to arrive.
"Y'all ready?" Justin asked, as he put the car keys in his pocket.
"Yup!" I responded enthusiastically.
"And Victor, I trust you'll be on your best behavior?" Justin asked sarcastically.
Victor bared his fangs and hissed in response.
"I'd expect nothing less," he laughed. "Just try not to bite my family, okay?"
Justin walked up the steps to his parents' front door and rang the bell. I could hear footsteps approaching the door. It swung open slowly.
"Hey baby!"
"Hey mama!"
Mrs. Kena was a petite woman in her late sixties with a short, natural hairstyle and bifocal glasses. Justin and his mother embraced tightly.
"Come on in, it's cold out there!"
"Ma, this is Dante. And this is Dante's cousin, Victor."
"Nice to meet you ma'am," Dante said.
"Hello Mrs. Kena," Victor said. My mom hugged them both and took their coats. I took mine off.
"Justin! You…you're skinny!"
"I am not skinny! Just toned up!"
"I don't think you've ever been this built! What have you been doing?" Her stare was one of both amazement and suspicion.
"Just working out, ma. Running. Eating right. You know, all that."
"Well, we already started eating," Mrs. Kena said. "Y'all were running so late, we couldn't wait anymore."
"I understand, ma. Where's dad?"
"Downstairs eating and watching the game with the rest of them. Help yourselves! We've got turkey, ham, greens, string beans, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, cranberry sauce, rolls, and iced tea!"
"Excellent!"
We stayed close by Justin as he made his way around the house, saying hello to his siblings, nieces, nephews, uncles, aunts, and cousins. The kids loved them some Uncle Justin. Each of them ran to him and showered him with hugs, latching on to his legs like little barnacles. He could barely walk from all the kids climbing on him.
He hugged his siblings, but I noticed there was a lack of warmth there. I already knew that Justin went home sparingly, so maybe his siblings had some resentment because he wasn't around much.
The house was beautiful. It was just as spacious as the outside suggested, with high ceilings, especially in the living room area. We walked downstairs into the finished basement to see a huge spread of food set up. Apparently, this house had an entire second kitchen just for these large events.
We met Justin's dad down there, a tall, dark and somewhat brooding man in his early seventies. His easy chair had a slight lean to the side as he watched the game.
"Hey dad," Justin said.
"Hello there," Mr. Kena said. His tumbler of whisky was nearby.
"How you doin'?" Justin asked.
"Same old, same old. How you? These your friends?"
"I'm good. This is Dante and Victor."
Mr. Kena looked at us up and down.
"'Sup?" he asked.
We smiled and extended our hands to him, only to be confronted with dap rather than a handshake.
"I'm still hip, ya little niggas," Mr. Kena laughed. We laughed along with him.
"Let's eat," Justin said. We walked back over to the serving area an
d got our paper plates. Victor and I loaded ours up with collard greens, string beans, yams, and bread.
"No turkey? No ham?" Mrs. Kena asked.
"We're vegetarian." Dante said.
"Kind of." Victor added.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry, Justin didn't tell me that! I would have made a casserole or something."
"Don't worry ma'am, you've got more than enough to satisfy us. It looks delicious."
"Thank you!" She smiled and walked away. Justin was loading his plate up with every kind of meat that was available.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Victor whispered to Justin.
"What?" he asked.
"You're not going to be able to handle dead meat."
"I've had turkey and ham all my life. I'll be fine."
"Suit yourself," Victor said.
"Aye…go easy," I told Justin. "Small bites. If it doesn't feel right, stop."
"I gotchu," he said.
We all sat down on a free sofa in the basement as the family members moved about and resettled. Justin's dad was definitely the king of the castle. He never had to get up from his seat. Instead, his children and grandchildren catered to him. They deferred to him much like my tribe deferred to Mama Abeo and the rest of our elders.
Justin laughed, talked to his family, talked to us, and laughed some more, all the while stuffing his face with delicious Thanksgiving food.
Justin's sister Sarah approached us, an hour or so later, cocktail in hand.
"Hi," she said coyly.
"Uh…hi," I said back.
"I'm just gonna sit next to you," she announced, squeezing her slender frame between Victor and I, all but popping him off the couch altogether.
"So, are you like…my brother's boyfriend?"
"Jesus, Sarah," Justin said.
"What? You've been out since practically middle school; I know you're not embarrassed."
Justin rolled his eyes and exercised his right to remain silent.
"We're together," I finally said.
"I figured it was you," she whispered. "He always liked them boys with long hair. But rough, you know? You got that streetwise look about you. Still handsome, though."
She reached out and patted my dreadlocks, which had been neatly pulled into a ponytail. I felt my face get warm with embarrassment.
"Excuse me," Justin said. He ran down the long hallway taking him to the rear of the basement. I heard a door open, a light turn on, and then the door close again.
"He okay?" Sarah asked.
"I guess something didn't agree with him."
Sarah was puzzled, but said nothing else.
After a few minutes, I decided to go check on him while the rest of the family talked to one another.
I rapped lightly on the door.
"You okay?" He moaned. I quietly turned the knob and opened the bathroom door to see Justin kneeling before the toilet bowl. I closed the door behind me.
"Stomach upset?" I asked. He nodded slowly, and then began to retch. More of his dinner erupted over his lips and into the bowl.
"Yeah. You can't eat like you used to anymore. Not dead meat, at least."
"This sucks," he said.
"I know. But hey, think of all those cows, piggies, and birds that you'll be saving by going vegetarian!"
"Dante?"
"What up?"
"I don't know if you noticed this, but we drink people."
"True! But most of the time, they live! Isn't that awesome? We are like the most peaceful, symbiotic beings on the planet."
Justin began to gag once more. He vomited again.
"Oh, God," Justin said.
"It's going to be okay."
"I'm really going to miss bacon."
I sighed and ran my fingers through his afro.
Hours later, after Justin's stomach settled, it was time to get back on the road. We watched as Justin gave his awkward goodbyes to his siblings and gave warm hugs and kisses to his nieces and nephews. He shook his dad's hand and patted him on the shoulder.
"Justin, can I talk to you a second before you leave?" Mrs. Kena asked him.
"Sure. Guys, I'll be in the car in a second."
"Aight," I said. We stepped outside but stopped on the porch so we could strain to listen to what they were saying in the foyer of the house. Our hearing was better than most, but hearing through a thick mahogany door was still a challenge.
"What's going on with you?" she asked.
"What?"
"You heard me, boy. I said what's going on with you?"
"Nothing's been going on with me, Ma."
"You lost fifty pounds."
"It's more like thirty."
"You need a haircut."
"I'm growing it out."
"You have these friends I don't know about."
"They're nice."
"You're throwing up dinner."
"Stomach bug."
"Now you tell me…"
"What?"
"What exactly is wrong with you?"
"Nothing at all is wrong with me, woman! Can't you just be glad that I'm back home?"
"It just seems odd that you lost your job and bounced back so quickly."
"The Foundation for Community Justice believes in me and gave me the pay I deserve. And I still send some back home every month."
"You do."
"Ma. I'm fine. Trust me! You know I never been big on having a whole lot of friends. These dudes are different. They watch out for me. Helped me get in shape. Gave me confidence. They're family away from home."
"You still have a family here at home, you know."
"I know, ma. You know I love all of y'all, right?"
"I know. Just…just be careful, okay?"
"I'm always careful. You know that. Listen, we should get on the road. I love you, Ma."
"I love you, Justin."
We hurriedly went to the car and waited for Justin as though we hadn't been eavesdropping on the whole conversation.
"He's loyal," Victor said softly.
"I know," I said. "He knows how dangerous it is for them to know."
"Y'all ready?" Justin asked happily, as he got in the car and put the key in the ignition. As he pulled off, he asked Victor how he enjoyed himself.
"It was fine," Victor sighed.
"Well, I'm glad you came, Victor. Both of you. I really am glad."
"Really?" Victor asked.
"Really. I know you, of all people, didn't have to."
"You're not all bad, Justin," Victor admitted.
"Thanks," Justin said.
"I'm still going to have to kick your ass," Victor said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, this big 'fight' y'all keep talking about," Justin laughed.
"It's not funny," I interjected. "Every Razadi boy has this moment."
"Son, I am a grown ass man," Justin sniped.
"Yes, you are, but you still have to go through this. This is the most important fight of your life. It's not just a street fight. This is a very solemn, ritualistic occasion. This is how we know whether this life has really chosen you. You won't really be one of us without it."
"Not really one of you? I'm already out this bitch drinking sorority girls and crackheads. I got all the memories. The big ones, at least."
"That's true," I said. "But you're still not feeling what I'm saying."
"So I'm going to get beat in, like a gang?" Justin asked.
"Not at all. This is like your final exam, your graduation day, your bar mitzvah. It's a rite of passage."
"Okay," Justin said softly. "I…uh…I'm sorry I didn't take it seriously."
"All this shit you've been going through, it will all come together," Victor said. "And you might not win, but you better give me one hell of a fight."
"What happens if I don't win?" Justin asked.
"You die," Victor said, yawning and laying back down in the backseat.
"Oh, is that all?" Justin asked sarcastically.
"No. He's for real," I said
softly. Justin looked at me askance.
"Oh."
"Do your best. That's all I can ask."
"And I guess my best is all I can give." His frown remained on his face for a hundred more miles. When we pulled over to switch drivers, again in Pennsylvania, he pushed me up against the side of the car and put his arms around me.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked. His face was just a few inches away from mine.
"I know. I love you, too."
He kissed me tenderly.
"I want to show you something," he said.
"What?" I asked. He cradled my face in his hands, closed his eyes, and leaned into me until our foreheads touched. My body was filled with a rush of emotions and memories all at once.
He was a baby, toddling through the skinny trees on his family's property, running, tripping, falling.
He was teased by his older brothers, ignored by his sisters.
He gripped his mother's apron strings, clinging to her for emotional support and strength.
He was torn away from her by his father making him "man up."
He manned up, all the way through school, making few friends along the way.
He manned up, earning the good grades that got him through school.
He manned up, when he was molested by his camp counselor, and told no one.
He bravely came out, only for his family not to care, not to offer a word of encouragement or the investment of bigotry. Just…nothing.
He was the last to leave the house and he never came back.
He studied, he partied, he studied, he partied. He drifted.
He loved. He loved often. He loved hard. But there was never a person who gave him what he needed. Never a person who allowed him to say it, to say the words.
And then I saw myself, and all memories slowed. I saw myself on the corner, peddling bootleg movies, waiting, waiting, hoping, smiling, meeting, loving, loving, loving.
Ipsaji.
I separated from Justin and gasped.
"How'd you learn how to do that?" I asked, breathless.
"It's in my blood," he smiled.
The Initiation
I washed Justin's hair and spent the better part of the hour twisting it into baby dreadlocks in preparation for the fight of his life. He sat between my legs as I worked and I could practically hear his heart beating with anticipation. We did not use products from the store for our hair care. Everything we put onto or into our bodies came from the earth if we could help it, and directly from our garden if possible.
Birth of a Dark Nation Page 25