Hold Me Down

by Calvin Slater

  Fourth-period lunch was a welcome break. He sat at a table in the cafeteria, posted up with his back to a wall, where he had a decent view of every part of the room as he watched students come and go. Everybody and their mamas were in the cafeteria today. Subzero temperatures outside accounted for the place being so packed.

  Xavier’s head darted back and forth, observing every movement. He didn’t trust anybody, especially after Tall and Husky had chased him through the school and tried to turn him into a chalk outline. Even the fact that Doug had beefed up security, and uniformed officers occasionally walked the hallways, did little to comfort him. It wasn’t gonna be the first time nor the last that the hitters would come for his head.

  Xavier was drinking a milkshake and looking paranoid when his boys rolled up on him. Linus Flip and Dex sat down with glum faces.

  Xavier asked them, “What are you fools looking so sad about? Y’all look like y’all just came from a funeral or something.”

  Dex mumbled, “You don’t know how close you came to being right.”

  “Stall me out with the riddles, homeboy, and kick it to me straight with no chaser,” Xavier said.

  Linus was about to open his mouth and start explaining until Bigstick walked up with the same look on his grill.

  Xavier knew something was up. He was anxious to find out. So he asked, “Bigstick, what’s the deal, dog?”

  Bigstick came out with it. “Our two defensive captains, Ray Taylor and Clyde McElroy, were shot this morning coming to school, fam. Same MO too—a black GMC SUV drove up and started cappin’.”

  The news blew Xavier’s wig back. First it was the homie Felix Hoover, then Runt, and now Ray and Clyde. It definitely didn’t make any sense to him. These three people hadn’t had anything to do with rolling on Romello or Slick Eddie. So why in the hell were they targeted? The more Xavier thought about it, the more it was looking like the GMC SUV boys and Tall and Husky were working individually. But why Felix Hoover and Runt and Ray Taylor and Clyde McElroy? Junk just wasn’t adding up.

  “Those gotta be the same fools that came gunnin’ for us the night of LaMarcus’s party,” Linus Flip added.

  “Had to be,” Dex agreed.

  Xavier was dreading asking Bigstick his next question, but he had to know. “Did they make it?”

  Bigstick didn’t sit down. “Ray was hit twice—once in the back and once in the leg, but he’s stable. Clyde is in critical condition. He took one in the stomach.”

  Xavier asked, “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

  Bigstick answered, “Just happened about a half hour ago, fam. I don’t think anybody up here knows yet. Both boys were taken to Detroit Receiving Hospital. Just stopping by to let y’all know. I gotta go and put the rest of the football team up on game. Probably gonna go down to the hospital after school.” Bigstick walked away before the tears could fall.

  “Damn!” Xavier slammed his right fist against the table. “Something is going to have to be done about those SUV boys.”

  Dex said, “Right about now I wouldn’t mind transferring to another school. Preferably somewhere where the body count ain’t that high.”

  “Is it just me,” Linus asked, “or do it seem like these cats are trying to pick us off one at a time?”

  Dex said, “The way kids are dropping up here at Coleman, they’re gonna have to change the name from Coleman High to Murder High. I can see it now, a sign out front in the lobby during registration that reads Graduate At Your Own Risk.”

  “Ray and Clyde were two of the squarest dudes at Coleman,” Xavier stated. “They definitely didn’t deserve what they got, you feel me?”

  Xavier was trying not to look shook but he was—they all were. It was the first month of the New Year, but drama from the old one wouldn’t die. The hitters seemed to be as persistent as Pac-Man, and they weren’t gonna stop munchin’ until the board was finished and there were no more dots left.

  Xavier mentally got himself together. “From now on, nobody gets caught alone in the school or around it.”

  Linus Flip said, “Since I got the ride, I’ll swing by y’all’s cribs and swoop y’all in the morning for school.”

  Dex was only keeping it real when he said, “The way these fools are letting people have it, what you’re talking about might not even matter. Those GMC SUV nuts seem to be on a mission. Remember what happened to Runt?”

  “Dex, homeboy, that probably was random,” explained Linus. “Xavier said Runt told him that the goons responsible for stomping him out were wearing ski masks.”

  Dex argued, “And right before he blacked out, Runt also said they told him to tell Xavier that they were coming for him.”

  Linus said, “What’s your point?”

  “The only point we need to know is that these boys are all business,” Xavier interjected. “And we have to stay tight until this thing is over, watch each other’s backs. Hold each other down.”

  “Poor Runt,” Dex solemnly said. “Heard that his parents took him out of Coleman.”

  Xavier just shook his head.

  Linus added, “This damn school—you have to really watch your back to go to this school.”

  At that moment a loud bang went off inside of the cafeteria. Some of the students in the lunchroom gasped. Linus and Dex hit the floor in dramatic fashion, but Xavier stayed composed and kept his seat. Something inside him just wouldn’t let him dive for cover. And if he had, Xavier wouldn’t have known that the sound of a gun going off had stemmed from some goofy, nerdy kid accidentally dropping his lunch tray flat against the floor. The nerd with the big glasses, with the navy blue Dockers kicked all up in his crack, and a checkered button-down shirt, was stooping and shoveling the spilled food back onto his tray.

  A huge sigh of relief could be heard throughout the lunchroom.

  Xavier was cracking up at his boys. Linus and Dex got up from the floor, brushing themselves off and looking kind of embarrassed.

  “And y’all wannabe gangsters can’t tell the sound of a real pistol from some goof ball dropping his tray,” Xavier joked, smirking.

  “That junk ain’t even funny,” said Dex, trying not to laugh himself.

  “Linus,” Xavier said, “I’m surprise you didn’t pull your gat and start letting off up in here.” Xavier couldn’t stop laughing. This junk was too funny. “Somebody should’ve been recording with a cell phone. Y’all floor dives would go viral on YouTube.”

  Linus took his seat. “Very funny, homeboy. Nah—it was actually funny. Almost broke my damn knee trying to dive up under the table.”

  Even though the boys were laughing, the threat was very real. Nobody wanted to admit to being frightened, but in some way they all were. Tons of energy went into hiding their fears. In order to survive in the ghetto many young boys couldn’t afford to wear their feelings on their sleeves. Cold stares and mean mugs were standard issue in a world where soft punks meant fresh meat for predators.

  Through the south door entered Samantha with her girlfriends, Jennifer Haywood and Tracy McIntyre. They followed Samantha over to Xavier’s table.

  Linus Flip was the first to act up. “Damn, Tracy! That booty is fat.”

  All three girls were dressed nice, but the way Samantha and Tracy’s backsides were popping in their jeans, they looked like they should’ve been models for some clothing catalog. And since Flip wasn’t going to disrespect Xavier by commenting on Samantha, he went hard on Tracy.

  Tracy was about to respond but was cut off by Jennifer: “Is that all you cavemen think about? Somebody’s booty?”

  Dex butted in. “Do I smell a hater? Now, Jennifer Haywood, since nobody was talking to you, why don’t you take your flat back over there, far over there, and have a seat.”

  Linus Flip burst out laughing. He analyzed Jennifer’s jeans. The girl was flatter than hot bottled beer. “Jennifer, you should tell your parents to get you some of those booty injections next Christmas.”

  Dexter almost fell out of his chair
laughing.

  Tracy came to her girl’s defense. “Linus, you gonna have to get off my girl like that. Ain’t you legal drinking age in the club? You’re supposed to be in twelfth grade but I hear that you’re carrying sophomore credits. Dummy.”

  Linus abruptly stopped laughing. “Girl, that ain’t funny. I’ll be graduating this year.”

  Jennifer scolded, “I hope none of these teachers graduate you, not saying grammatically incorrect things like ‘That ain’t funny.’ ”

  Jennifer and Tracy high-fived each other.

  Samantha finally stopped laughing to say to her girls, “Y’all take it over there so that I can have a conversation with my new best friend.” She stooped and kissed Xavier on the cheek.

  Dex said with a look of disgust on his face, “There y’all go. Get a room.”

  As Tracy was walking away, she cracked on Dex. “You get some Clearasil, you acne-havin’ varmint.”

  Xavier asked Dex, “I know you are not trying to go there, homeboy. When every time I see you and Marissa y’all got tongues down each other’s throats.”

  Linus started laughing.

  Xavier told both of them, “Y’all go over there and keep the ladies company.”

  Samantha sat down in a chair next to Xavier.

  He asked her, “Have you heard about Clyde and Ray?”

  “That’s why I was coming over here, Xavier. Heard it five minutes ago. Plus it’s on the news.”

  Xavier put his head down, simply frustrated.

  “You okay?” Samantha put a hand on his right forearm.

  He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. Seem like these goons are taking it out on my friends. I don’t get it. All of this from me trying to do the right thing.”

  “It’ll all work out, Xavier. You just have to have faith.”

  He patted Samantha’s soft hand. “I know you’re right.”

  “This is some real Romeo-and-Juliet type stuff,” Heather said, approaching the table.

  Samantha let her actions show Heather who the original queen bee was by getting out of her chair and sliding into Xavier’s lap.

  Heather backed away from the table. “Oh, it’s like that, Hunter.”

  Samantha and Xavier tenderly looked at each other and then back to her, dismissing the girl through one unified voice: “YUP!”

  Heather didn’t make a scene. “I told you what would happen,” she threatened him. But she hadn’t seen Linus creeping up from behind. Linus Flip snatched Heather up with the quickness, and escorted her out of the cafeteria.

  “What are we going to do about her?” Samantha asked Xavier.

  “Sam, one problem at a time. She ain’t the one I’m worried about, you feel me?”

  Doug walked through the east entry and was headed in Xavier’s direction.

  Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh. He kissed Samantha on the cheek and they both stood.

  Doug went to say something but Xavier cut him off. “Don’t even waste your energy,” Xavier said. “Just lead the way to your office.”

  Xavier was beginning to lose count of how many times he’d been pulled into Doug’s office this school year to be questioned about violent acts of crime. Times were getting so ridiculous that if a student sneezed himself into a bloody nose, it would lead to Xavier being questioned. Now he was on his way to Doug’s office to be grilled about big Ray Taylor and Clyde McElroy. The results would be the same as always: He didn’t know anything.

  20

  MONDAY, FEBRUARY 2

  4:20 P.M.

  It’d been three weeks since Heather had pulled her little stunt in the cafeteria. Since then, homegirl was nowhere to be found. Hadn’t shown in English class or been seen anywhere around campus.

  She’d up and vanished like a wisp of smoke.

  If Bipolar Betty doesn’t show her face ever again at Coleman, I’ll be straight, Xavier told himself as he got off the bus and was walking to his place at Billy’s.

  He was supposed to be riding home from school with Linus, but Flip hadn’t attended school today—car trouble. Xavier had been after Flip for two weeks about how the Pontiac sounded like it had a slight engine knock. Linus was on that ol’ “I know my car better than you” ego trip and paid no attention to Xavier’s warnings. Now he was probably somewhere looking stupid, as his ride sat in the driveway of his mother’s crib with the engine locked up.

  This had to be the coldest winter Xavier had ever experienced. Temperatures were below zero and the wind chill factor left him feeling that his layers of clothing weren’t enough. As he walked north on Schoolcraft Avenue, his mind was on his homeboys. Ray Taylor was coming along as well. Clyde McElroy was still in the hospital. The boy had long since been upgraded from critical to guarded condition. He still wasn’t out of the woods. Several stomach operations and a nasty staph infection had left the All State offensive guard in one of the toughest fights of his young teenage life.

  The traffic on Schoolcraft Avenue was heavy but flowing smoothly, except for some jerk driving an ancient metallic-blue Honda Accord with a crumpled rear end. The idiot decided to run through a red light and almost caused a major collision with a school bus. Car horns blared as the Honda-driving maniac had the accelerator to the floor and was burning rubber down the crowded street, coming dangerously close to sideswiping a few other vehicles.

  Somewhere, someplace in a faraway laboratory, scientists had to be working on a cure for stupidity, Xavier thought as he continued, not breaking stride.

  He’d gone down to the hospital to visit with Clyde after school yesterday. The boy was heavily sedated. And Xavier couldn’t stay too long because of the twisted condition his homeboy was in. Tubes, wires, and beeping machines surrounded his bed. Even though he was intense on the football field, Clyde was a lively guy with jokes for days. That boy lying in the hospital bed looked close to death and bore little resemblance to the comical one Xavier knew.

  Xavier was near his street and moving toward a vacant lot where a corner store used to stand. The pity party he was having had completely hindered the focus needed to be observant of his surroundings.

  Xavier had cut through the vacant lot to get to his street when he heard it, a screeching noise. Almost like the sound made by car tires striking and jumping the curb at a high rate of speed. Xavier looked back at the Ford Edge barreling toward him, could see the demented look on Heather’s face through the windshield. Her determined, grim look was peppered with the heinous intent of giving him a half-ton “Built Ford Tough” makeover. Talking about his bad decisions—one of them was now behind him and trying to take him out by using the American-made as a potential murder weapon. Out of pure desperation, Xavier hurled his backpack at the windshield and dove out of the way just in time.

  With no time to waste, Xavier dug his heels into the frozen dirt and launched himself forward. He was running in the opposite direction when he heard what sounded like her braking, cutting the wheel sharply and skidding around on the cold ground, the tires spinning, trying to get traction. The sound was terrifying.

  But stealing a glance over his shoulder to see her coming at him was worse than any nightmare. There was no way he could outrun the vehicle. There was an alley off to the left. He took the corner, slipping and sliding, almost losing his footing. But Xavier dug down deep and managed to stay on his feet.

  He had made it three houses down when he heard the powerful engine as Heather drove into the alley, the Ford Edge’s undercarriage bumping and scraping over the dips in the concrete. She was intent on carrying out her threat. Xavier hadn’t taken her seriously at first, but only now, as he was running for his life, did he realize that the crazy girl hadn’t been just mouthing off. She was for real with hers and was now closing the gap between them. Xavier’s heart was pumping so fast that he thought his ticker would break through his rib cage in an attempt to outrun him to safety.

  With Heather now two houses back and closing fast, Xavier started sear
ching for fences to jump. The private fence to his right was too damn tall to scale. The chain-link to his left held a pit bull and an enormous Rottweiler, showing their razor-edged canines, growling, snarling, and barking as they tried to get at him through the fence. The house two down from the dogs had what was left of a dying vegetable garden on the other side of a wrought-iron gate. Operating on pure adrenaline, Xavier grabbed the top of the gate, jumped, and with his arms propelled himself over and landed in dead, brownish-looking tomato plants. Not a minute too soon because Heather rolled by and sideswiped the fence on her way past.

  He got to his feet and looked in the SUV’s direction. Heather gunned her ride, made it to the end of the alley, and slid onto a side street. She burned rubber getting up out of there.

  Xavier jumped back over the fence, past the dogs, and ran toward the vacant lot. He retrieved his backpack, which still had everything in it. Xavier took off down the street with one thing on his mind—skip reporting her to the police. And he wasn’t gonna be responsible for his actions if she showed her face at school tomorrow.

  The first person he called when he got to the crib was Samantha, to give her the scoop on Heather’s homicidal behavior. Samantha had her driver bring her right over. After Xavier introduced Billy to Samantha, both teens were chilling in his bedroom, sitting on the mattresses. Samantha’s driver sat in the black Cadillac Escalade parked outside at the curb in front of Xavier’s house, drinking coffee. As well as being her driver, the black Lurch doubled as her bodyguard.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Xavier?” Samantha asked.

  Xavier took his time answering. “Yeah, I’m straight.” But he was obviously furious.

  “You have to report this to the police,” Samantha advised. “It wouldn’t be a good look to take the law in your own hands, especially with a girl.”

  Xavier shook his head. “Ain’t no girl—that’s Satan dressed up like one.”

  “Be that as it may, you remember the last time you took the law into your own hands, and now you have people trying to kill you. Let the police do their jobs, Xavier.”