Hold Me Down

by Calvin Slater

  Xavier was sitting on a colorful beanbag chair, still in disbelief at what his father had done to him.

  “I’m good,” said Xavier. “The last thing I need is to be out of control.”

  There was a brown paper bag over the bottle that Heather refreshed her drink with. She took a few sips from the cup. “Come on, Hunter. I don’t like to drink by myself.”

  Xavier kept looking around. “I can’t believe you’re squatting in this abandoned house. Who turned on the utilities for you?”

  The vacant house was nice and toasty inside. Xavier could even hear the furnace kick on every once in a while.

  Heather took a few more sips. “That’s not important. Besides, I only come here from time to time. Just to get away from my overbearing mother.” Heather set the plastic cup down on the floor and reached inside a navy blue book bag at her feet and grabbed some bottled water. “Can’t you see how much I love you, Hunter?”

  Xavier craned his neck to look around the room. “Yeah. By bringing me to a vacant house. How can I not feel the love? It is almost as bad as taking me to a rowdy pool hall”—he used air quotes—“to think.”

  She cracked open the bottled water and poured a little into her red cup. She slowly swirled the drink around. “Hunter, you are so silly. It’s kinda hard for me to do, but I’ll have to admit the poolroom was a bad idea. We’re absolutely safe here, though.”

  The only light in the room came from burning candles. There were fancy-colored comforters covering two full-size mattresses. Xavier and Heather were sitting on nice, fluffy beanbag chairs across from each other. Heather had quite a few personal items in the space and Xavier could tell that this place meant something to her.

  She picked the cup up and refilled it. As she offered the drink to Xavier, she said, “I can tell you have some deep stuff on your mind. A little of this will help you relax . . . and we could probably have some fun.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t drink?”

  “I know, honey, but you look worried and I want to make you happy.” Heather wobbled as she stood and placed herself in his lap, almost falling over. “Oops,” she said, trying to balance herself to keep from spilling the liquid. Heather studied the cup. “This stuff has quite a kick. You should try some.”

  Xavier wasn’t feeling Heather like that. He was only in her company because he had nowhere else to go tonight—to keep it one-hun’ed. But the sight of her left him nauseated. The plan was just to spend the night here and bounce early in the morning, but she was so annoying Xavier didn’t know if he would be able to survive to sunrise.

  “I gotta take a leak. Does the water work in this joint?”

  “Yup. Down the hall on the left.”

  Xavier stood, shedding Heather from his lap like she was just trash, spilling most of her drink onto the carpet.

  Heather balanced herself to stand. “You are upset and I can see it. I’m gonna make you feel good when you get back. I promise you, Hunter.”

  Xavier looked at her with total disgust. He left her fumbling around in the book bag. He returned to see her shaking up the water in the bottle.

  If she thinks it’s going down tonight, this chick has another think coming, Xavier thought as he went and dropped onto one of the mattresses, removing his boots. So much had happened to him in a few short hours, Xavier just wanted to go to sleep. Deal with his problems in the morning.

  But Xavier knew Heather wasn’t going to make it easy because she stumbled over to him, still trying to force him to drink from the cup. “Hunter, baby, don’t you want to join me in having a good time? Drink this”—she gestured with the cup—“and let’s escape this madness together, please,” she begged.

  Xavier was strong-willed. Stood firm on his principles and alcohol was an absolute no-no. The monkey oil always led to poor decision-making. He was already in a wide-open abandoned house, with a liquored-up psycho chick. There were crazy fools that were armed and a tall and husky hit man all trying to smoke him, and the last thing he needed was his judgment impaired by alcohol. Xavier needed to stay loose and have his wits about him.

  Heather remained persistent. “Hunter, if you’re not gonna have any of my drink”—she placed the bottled water at his feet—“I don’t want to drink alone. The least you can do is drink the water and keep me company, you know, pretend like we’re sitting at a bar, enjoying tasty conversation.”

  Maybe she had a point. Plus he hadn’t had any liquids since leaving Dexter’s New Year’s Eve party. His mouth was dry and his thirst was slowly building.

  “This drink is really kicking in,” said Heather. There was a dumb-looking smile on her grill and her eyes were small and red. “I know I shouldn’t get like this in front of male company. Don’t want you trying to take advantage of me, Hunter.”

  Xavier had been there and done that and had no desire to go there anymore. Every last one of the girl’s fifty different personalities was a complete turnoff. He didn’t want anything from her except to be left alone with his thoughts.

  Heather was wearing jeans and some kind of old-fashioned, grandma-looking floral print blouse. She slowly peeled out of the top and sensually dropped the garment to the floor. “Phew, it’s getting hot in here. Have to go and check the thermostat.” Heather retrieved one of the burning candles and was about to step from the room.

  Xavier asked, “What’s with the candles? Thought you had electricity.”

  Heather answered, slurring some of her words. “Hunter, sweetie, you have a lot to learn about living ghetto-fabulous. If you don’t legally have power then the worst thing you can do at night is to turn on the lights. That’s how you get busted. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little candlelight to see where you’re going. Our ancestors used it back in the day.” She steadied herself to hold the candle out in front. “Be back in a minute.” She giggled as she stumbled out the door.

  Xavier watched as Heather disappeared into the darkness. If she wanted to drink herself into a coma it was all right by him. Matter of fact, he might try to encourage her to consume more alcohol when she returned. Knock her out for the rest of the night.

  Xavier looked at the bottled water and licked his lips. He cracked open the cap and took a swig. Heather was a complex piece of human confusion. But once the night was over, Xavier would never talk to the chick again. The thought was cruel, but she only existed right now to provide him with warm shelter and a nice, dry place to lay his head.

  Xavier chugged the water again. His life was upside-down and drama haunted him from every corner. As of now he could add homelessness to his growing list of problems. The urge was strong to go back home tomorrow and find a way to pay his father back for his cruelty when—

  Whoa! What the hell? Did the floor just move? A few seconds later it moved again. Then the bottom seemed to completely fall out from underneath him and he felt like he was dropping, free-falling through darkness.

  He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He was lying flat on his back on the mattress and was looking up at the ceiling through blurred vision.

  No this trick didn’t, he thought, as he held up the bottle of water. How could he be so stupid, so gullible? His arm suddenly fell lifelessly to the mattress and the bottle bounced to the carpet, spilling the remainder of the contents.

  Although he couldn’t move, Xavier could hear Heather reenter the room.

  “I thought you were never gonna drink the water. But lady luck seems to be on my side. Now I’m about to make you love me, Hunter.”

  With all of his energy he tried to get up, but it was useless. Xavier stopped struggling and allowed darkness to take him.

  The next morning Xavier woke, groggily opening his eyes to the dull sunshine filtering in through the clear plastic that covered the bedroom window. His head was throbbing and he had no memory of the night before. The dryness of his tongue gave him that cottonmouth sensation. He went to move, but Heather’s head was lying on his chest and all her weight was bearin
g down on his right side.

  Alarmed, Xavier instinctively raised the covers with his free hand—and damn! The two of them were completely naked underneath. He sat up and Heather’s head slid off his chest.

  “The hell!” he yelled.

  Defensive and wide-eyed, Heather slid off the mattress and backed into the nearest corner, quickly bringing the comforter with her and wrapping it around her naked body. The devious smile on her face spoke volumes.

  Xavier stood up, pissed! “What the hell did you put in that water?”

  Heather said nothing. Just kept on smiling sinisterly, like she’d set Xavier up to be miserable for the rest of his life.

  Xavier ran around the room, gathering up his clothes. “I tell you, Heather, stay the hell away from me.”

  Xavier threw on his clothes in a hurry. He wanted to get as far away from this lunatic chick as he could. Xavier put his baseball cap on and held his jacket.

  He pointed and threatened, “Don’t you ever come around me again! I ain’t playing, you little crazy trick! If you do, I won’t be responsible for what I might do!”

  Xavier was halfway down the stairs when he heard Heather cry out, “You’re never getting rid of me, Hunter! I’m gonna be with you until the day we both die . . . together.”

  Her statement chilled him to the bone. Xavier didn’t want to think about what had just happened. He didn’t want to think about anything. His troubled mind ordered him to run. And that’s what he did. Xavier ran down the block and clear out of the neighborhood.

  17

  WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7

  11:00 A.M.

  Xavier was lying around the crib listening to music on the Pandora app on his cell phone. He’d had one stressful week and music was what he needed right now to relax. Xavier hadn’t been to school since the start of the year. And judging by the cruddy way he was feeling, he didn’t know when he would return.

  The morning he’d left that little psychotic witch, Heather, Xavier was forced to make a hard decision. He chose to swallow his pride and knock on Billy’s door. There hadn’t been anywhere left for him to turn. Billy took him right in with no hesitation. Regardless of what his baby mama, Brandy James, was spitting in his ear. The old man ignored her request to make Xavier pay rent, and gave the boy the keys to the rental property. Billy even set Xavier up with a few dollars to put in his pocket—one-hundred-fifty dollars wasn’t much, but it was sure better than nothing. Took him shopping to cop toiletries, food for the fridge, household cleaning supplies, socks, underwear, and T-shirts. He even called the boy’s father and somehow convinced Noah to let things simmer down between the two of them. Meanwhile, Xavier was welcome to stay in the rental property for as long as he wanted.

  Noah agreed.

  And Xavier had been there ever since. Billy’s generosity had boundaries, though. The old man had a brand-new family to support and left it up to Xavier to figure out how he would replace the wardrobe Noah had sacrificed as a burnt offering to the crazy gods inside of his twisted mind. To say that Xavier was depressed would be a gross understatement. Homeboy was so far gone that the thought of taking his life had flirted with him a few times. But that weak, pathetic coward’s way out was shot down every time. Xavier was a true warrior, with the strength to make pebbles out of mountains of trouble, a feat that he’d thoroughly demonstrated over the last couple years. There was no way he was going to lose in this epic clash with life.

  Living in the old house that he’d shared with Ne Ne and Alfonso had come with a few reservations. He damn sure didn’t want it to seem like he had come crawling back to the old neighborhood because he couldn’t cut it in the new place. But it was what it was. Until he could do better, this place was home. And he was grateful.

  The house didn’t really have much by way of luxurious amenities. Two stacked mattresses on the floor of his old bedroom were as good as it got. Three huge throw pillows lay in a corner of the front room so he would be comfortable while studying.

  Xavier had left his schoolbooks in the locker over the holidays, and without them there wasn’t much to occupy his mind and keep it off what that deranged mental patient had done to him early New Year’s morning. He could twist and turn it however he wanted, but the fact remained that Heather had date-raped him. Snuck something into his water and had had her way with him, like he was some helpless punk.

  Xavier kept on telling himself that he was tough, a straight-up, head-cracking G. His attempt to rally his inner gangster failed miserably. At this point Xavier was thinking that he might have to go out and choke a fool out just to prove that his manhood wasn’t dressed in a skirt and wearing high heel shoes.

  On Pandora, 50 Cent’s “In da Club” started bumping and seemed to be speaking to the beast that lived inside of Xavier’s soul. The boy jumped off the mattresses and got down on all fours. As the beat banged, Xavier caught the rhythm and started doing push-ups. Heather couldn’t have his manhood. It was his and he’d worked hard to be the man that he was becoming. He didn’t know what the chick was up to, but he didn’t care. This episode would be swept underneath the rug like Xavier had done the night when that big biker put a two piece on him and made him go night-night at the pool hall.

  As he pushed the floor, Xavier had to figure out a way to get into the school and grab his books tomorrow without being spotted. The money Billy had given him just wasn’t enough to buy a complete outfit. The old man had done enough for him. It was all up to Xavier to find a way to cop some new clothes. The ones on his body were the only pieces he had left in the world. And that wasn’t going to fly. But the longer he stayed out of school, the worse his grades would suffer. The dude had to think of something quick before he’d fall too far behind to catch up.

  18

  THURSDAY, JANUARY 8

  4:33 P.M.

  Xavier had been extremely stealthy in creeping into the school to grab what he needed before he was spotted by anybody that mattered. He’d waited until after school, when aside from a few hallway drifters, most of the students had gone home.

  Doug and his security team would be busy at this time, policing the parking lots and making sure students were safe. Yeah. There were a few guards on the inside, but Xavier managed to stay clear of those high-traffic areas, sticking to the shadows.

  An arctic front had the temperature outside in single digits. Strong gusts were blowing folks around and tossing about trash and dead leaves.

  Now toting a backpack loaded down with books, Xavier was walking toward the main street to catch the bus back to the crib when a horn blew. The traffic was heavy on the four-lane street beside him, and he couldn’t tell which car had honked. He stopped at a corner with a traffic light, his head darting back and forth, looking for a place to run, just in case.

  To make matters worse, snow had started to descend in huge, fluffy flakes.

  Xavier realized he’d set himself up to be sprayed with bullets by walking down this busy street, but he was sick of hiding. The horn blew again and this time Xavier made the car. A silver Lexus LX 570 sat idling at the red light, surrounded by other vehicles. One thing was for certain: It wasn’t the boys from the black GMC SUV cause something would have been popping off already. His nerves were on edge as the factory-tinted front passenger window slowly wound down.

  Aw, shoot, Xavier thought, nervously exhaling. It was Ms. Scott.

  She beckoned to him with her hand. “Mr. Hunter, get in.”

  Xavier was reluctant.

  “Boy, get your butt in here before the light turns green,” she ordered, smiling warmly.

  It was nice and toasty inside the luxury SUV. The interior was all black with heated leather seats. Based on its elegance and style, Xavier slapped a guesstimated eighty-thousand-dollar price tag on the whip. If this was true he was now rolling around in a vehicle that cost more than the crib he was presently living in.

  Ms. Scott slowly accelerated at the green light. Xavier looked around the vehicle. It definitely was her style. He knew
his English teacher was paid from the first moment he’d stepped into her classroom. And there was no doubt Ms. Scott was the best dressed teacher at Coleman. The black expensive-looking trench coat, nice solid black dress, and pricey leather riding boots she was wearing gave her the flamboyant look of those reality TV Basketball Wives starlets.

  She made a right onto Grand River Avenue. “It’s been almost two weeks, young man. Why haven’t you set foot in my classroom?”

  Xavier sat staring out of the window watching cars go by and people stroll down the sidewalks. Snowflakes were now falling with a fury, blowing and swirling around in the strong wind. For some reason Xavier felt like he could trust her.

  “You are a promising student with a real bright future. Something’s wrong. It’s not like you to miss my class. You’ve missed out on a few exams, not to mention loads of classroom work. You want to tell me what seems to be the problem?”

  Xavier had nowhere else to go with it. He said straight out, “My father burned up my clothes.”

  Ms. Scott was floored. In her entire teaching career she’d never heard anything like this. Which prompted her question. “Why? Did he hurt you?”

  Xavier looked at her like she was crazy.

  She smiled softly. “I have to ask those questions because—”

  Xavier cut her off. “You wouldn’t understand. You also can’t tell anybody.”

  Ms. Scott came to a red light. “It’s my job to protect you students if you’re being harmed.”

  “Since it’s your job, pull over and let me out.”

  She hit a button on the console and the doors locked. “You haven’t been in my class for almost two weeks. I pick you up off the street and you accuse your father of child abuse. Excuse me, young man, why wouldn’t it concern me?”

  “You know I’ve never been able to trust anybody in my life and here I am telling you something that nobody outside my family knows about. You gonna blow the whistle on me? This is what I get for listening to the voice inside my head telling me that I could confide in you.”