Dance Into Destiny

by Sherri L. Lewis

  She awoke to loud yelling. Her heart froze. It was Quinton’s voice.

  “Quintell!”

  She ran in the room and tried to wake him. His eyes were open, but he looked at her without recognition.

  “Where’s Quintell?”

  “Quinton, baby, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  “Momma, where’s Quintell?”

  She tried to shake him, but he wouldn’t come out of his trance. Had she given him too much pain medicine?

  “Quinton, please, you’re scaring me.”

  “Quintell! Momma, where is Quintell? Did I get here in time? Am I too late?”

  He thrashed in the bed. The bandage on his arm was soaked through, red.

  “Quinton, wake up!”

  “Just tell me where Quintell is. Please! Where’s Quintell?”

  Shara burst into tears. “He’s gone, Quinton. Quintell is gone.”

  Jamil ran into the room. “Miss Shara, what’s wrong?”

  “Quintell, you’re all right! Oh God, I knew I could save you. Come here, man. I knew you’d be back. I knew I could save you.” Quinton held out his arms for Jamil.

  Jamil looked at Shara as if he didn’t know what to do and didn’t understand what was going on. He walked over to the bed and sat down. Quinton held him and rocked him back and forth crying Quintell’s name over and over. He stopped rocking and pulled Jamil away from him and looked at him.

  “Quintell?”

  Jamil shook his head slowly with tears flowing down his face. “No, man. I’m Jamil.”

  Shara brushed Jamil’s tears away. “Go back to bed, sweetie. Quinton’s going to be okay.”

  “But, Miss Shara—”

  “Jamil, do as I say. You can play with the PlayStation, okay?”

  He obediently turned to walk away, but stopped with a worried look when he heard Quinton yell, “NO! Quintell, come back! Please don’t leave me again. Quintell!”

  Shara pushed Jamil out the door and closed it behind him. She walked back over to the bed and turned on the light.

  “Quinton, wake up! You’re having a reaction to the pain medicine. Wake up, baby, you’re hurting yourself!”

  “Momma, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose Quintell. I’m sorry, Momma.”

  He cried in Shara’s arms as she rocked him. He kept crying Quintell’s name and telling his mother he was sorry.

  After he fell asleep, Shara was afraid to move, not wanting to wake him. She lay there praying, wondering what Quinton had been talking about. Was it just the pain medicine?

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Shara awoke to a feathery soft kiss on her cheek. “I knew I couldn’t trust you. Woman, what are you doing in my bed? Did I miss the wedding or something?”

  She stared at him.

  “What?”

  “Quinton, you don’t remember waking up last night?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Shara sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She recounted the events of the night before.

  “Jamil heard me?”

  “He came in here. You hugged him and called him Quintell.”

  Quinton held his face in his hands. “Oh God, I didn’t.” He looked up. “Where is he now?”

  “He went back to bed. I heard him playing PlayStation until about two in the morning.” They both looked over at the clock. It was 5:30.

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry, Shara. I didn’t mean to scare you. Oh God. I can’t believe I . . .” He held his face in his hands again.

  Shara noticed that his body started heaving. She heard a muffled cry.

  “Quinton?”

  “Give me a minute, Shara. Could you—”

  “Step out? No, Quinton, talk to me.”

  “Shara, just let me—”

  “No, Quinton!” She pulled his hands away from his face and held his chin so he had to meet her eyes. “We’re going to be married. No secrets. Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?”

  Shame filled his eyes. He covered his face again and started crying. It was the most painful sound Shara had ever heard. She felt like her heart was being ripped open. She held him and rocked him until he stopped crying. His voice was hoarse.

  “Is that why you went to save Jamil last night?”

  “I couldn’t lose another one. I couldn’t bury another baby brother.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” Shara kissed his face softly, stopping the tears. “Quint, is there something you need to talk about? I’m going to be your wife. Trust me, baby. Whatever it is—don’t hold it in anymore.”

  He got up slowly and walked over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a key. He walked out the bedroom door, indicating for her to follow.

  He opened the door to the last bedroom and held it for Shara to walk inside.

  She gasped at what she saw.

  There were bunk beds in the room with Superhero bedspreads. There was a little chair and desk with Curious George books on it.

  He explained without looking her in the eye. “Quintell and I shared a bedroom until I left for college. The twins were inseparable, so when he came along, mom just stuck him in the room with me.”

  He smiled a faraway smile. “When he was little, he would climb in the bed with me and sleep curled up in a little ball up under me. When he got older, he would keep me awake all night asking questions. He got on my nerves, but when I left for college, I missed him so much.” Quinton rubbed the bunk bed.

  There were pictures everywhere. Anywhere Shara turned, Quintell’s little chocolate face was staring back at her at all different ages. There were a lot of pictures of him and Quinton together. There was a large blow-up of Quinton in his Magic jersey with Quintell grinning beside him. They looked so much alike it was scary.

  Quinton’s voice was filled with pain. “That was the last time I saw him alive. He came to visit me in Orlando. He had been getting in a lot of trouble with the guys in the neighborhood, so mom sent him to visit me until things cooled off. The only problem was, I couldn’t watch him. I had to go to practice and go to games, and then I had my girl. I didn’t make time for him.”

  Quinton rubbed his chin. “He wanted to come live with me, but . . . I didn’t want him “‘cramping my style.’ ” I was too busy being a rich superstar athlete to be there for my baby brother. The night before he was killed, he called, begging me to come visit. He said he was afraid something was going to happen to him. He wouldn’t let me off the phone until I promised to make a plane reservation for that weekend. He wanted me to come the next day, but I had a game.”

  Quinton fingered a worn piece of paper on the wall. It was a program for a basketball game. “Orlando Magic vs. Houston Rockets—March 27, 1998.” He fingered another worn piece of paper next to it. It was an obituary with Quintell’s face smiling on the front. It read, “Quintell Mercer, January 14, 1983—March 27, 1998.”

  Tears streamed down Quinton’s face. “I was too late. If I had just gotten there when he begged me to, I could have saved him. My mom had already picked out the house she wanted, and I was supposed to close on it that weekend. If I had gotten the house before then, he wouldn’t have even been in that neighborhood that night.”

  He hung his head. “But I was too busy playing basketball.”

  He sat in the little chair and fingered one of the Curious George books. “He always made me read this to him. When he was little, I used to call him curious Quintell. He was the cutest thing in the world. He worshipped the ground I walked on.”

  Quinton’s voice cracked. “And I let him down.” He pounded the table. “For a stupid basketball game!”

  He started weeping that gut-wrenching cry again. Shara went over to him and held him in her arms. She didn’t know what to say.

  “That’s why I couldn’t play anymore. I put that stupid game before my baby brother and it cost him his life. For what? Some stupid money? Fame and fortune? Was any of that worth his life? He was only fifteen years old. After I q
uit, I swore I’d never pick up a basketball again.”

  Shara’s voice was soft. “Quinton, you didn’t know.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I should have been there for him.”

  Shara held him for a while, thinking. That explained all the money he had given to help the church youth programs, and his undying devotion to his boys.

  “I know, Shara. I know I can’t bring him back, no matter how much time and money I devote to these boys. I guess I feel like it’s blood money. Quintell’s blood money. I feel like I owe it to them. If I can’t save him, at least I can save them. That’s why every time Jamil or any of them calls, I’m there. I don’t want to ever feel like I should have been there ever again. Do you understand, baby?”

  She nodded and kissed him. “I understand, baby. I just don’t think—”

  “I know, Shara. Please . . . give me some time to heal. I never told anyone this before. My mother doesn’t know anything about the phone call. She doesn’t know Quintell wanted to come live with me. I don’t think she’d ever forgive me.”

  “I doubt that, Quint.”

  He laughed.

  “What?” She hoped he wasn’t about to become delirious again.

  “That’s what my mom used to call us. All of us. She could never get the name right for who she was yelling at. She’d yell, ‘Come here Quintavious, no Quintarious, no Quintell, no . . . Quint! Get in here.’ We’d all come running, hoping not to be the one she was calling for.”

  Quinton chuckled with a faraway look in his eyes. “It was always one of the twins. I was too busy trying to be grown and responsible and Quintell was a perfect angel . . .”

  He looked upward. “He’s my little angel. I like to think of him up there with the cloud of witnesses, cheering me on. At first I was real worried about his . . . eternal soul, you know? But when I sat down and talked to the pastor at my mom’s church, he told me Quintell came to visit him the week before he died. He had told the pastor he didn’t know why, but he wanted to get saved. The pastor sat him down and talked to him about it and led him to Christ. When Pastor Williams told me about that, I cried and cried. That’s what made me give my life to Christ, right there in his office. The thought that Quintell was in heaven, and that God made sure he would get there right before he died . . .”

  Quinton let out a deep sigh. “I’m tired, baby. Take me back to bed?”

  Shara led him by the hand, careful to close the door tightly behind her. “Want me to lock it?”

  “No, baby. No more locked doors in our lives.”

  She tucked him into his bed.

  “Stay with me ’til I fall asleep?” She got in bed, but stayed on top of the sheets while he lay under them.

  He laid his head on her chest. “Ummm. I could get used to this. How ’bout we skip the wedding and elope?”

  She laughed softly, stroking his hair gently with her fingers.

  “Quinton?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What made you pick up a basketball again?”

  She felt him sigh.

  “When I came back home for good after quitting, Pastor Williams called me into his office. My mother told him she was concerned because I was depressed and never wanted to leave my room. I had created a little Quintell shrine like the one here.

  “He told me he was sorry Quintell had died, and he didn’t know why God had allowed him to die. He said I had two choices. I could either let his death destroy me, or I could allow God to use my pain. He quoted what has become my favorite scripture about Joseph . . . what Satan meant for evil, God meant for good. Just like Pastor preached in his sermon that Sunday. Joseph went through a lot of pain, but it ended him up somewhere where he could deliver a whole nation of people. I guess Jamil and my boys are my little nation. For every soul God saves through me, I get to get some revenge on the kingdom of darkness for taking Quintell.”

  “Quinton?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I love you.”

  “Me too, baby.”

  She heard his breathing become labored and knew he had fallen asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, so she stayed there and fell asleep, too.

  Epilogue

  Pastor Kendrick announced proudly, “You may kiss the bride.” Everyone applauded as Quinton leaned over to kiss Shara. The applause got louder as the kiss lasted for a while.

  Quinton whispered in Shara’s ear, “That’s the last kiss I’ll have to run away from.”

  She giggled and blushed, whispering back, “Can’t we skip the reception?”

  They both laughed. It had been a long six months, but they had survived by “keeping it safe.”

  It had actually passed by pretty quickly. Shara had worked hard in school and had graduated a few weeks ago, the programs at the church were in full swing, and they had trained for a marathon together to relieve some of their pent up “frustrations.”

  As they sat at the head table at the reception, Shara looked around at everyone she loved who came to share their special day. Keeva was at her right hand as her maid of honor. Nia and Danielle were her bridesmaids. Quinton was flanked by his best man, Anthony, and his groomsmen, Quintavious and Quintarious.

  Mother Hobbs also joined them at the head table. She had been given a special seat of honor at the wedding as the mother of the bride and groom. She cried tears of joy throughout almost the entire wedding.

  Shara’s parents and Quinton’s mother were sitting together at the table closest to theirs. Shara was overjoyed at how well her mom and Quinton’s mother got along. Her father was initially grumpy about not being asked to perform the ceremony. Shara didn’t know if it was Quinton’s mom’s feistiness rubbing off or what, but Shara’s mom fussed at her father until he was ashamed. He hadn’t said another word about Shara’s “new-fangled Pastor” for the rest of their visit to “the city.”

  When the time came, he graciously danced her around on the dance floor for their father-daughter dance, looking as proud as a father could.

  Shara smiled at Quinton dancing with his mother. She had been down to visit quite a few times in the last six months. Quinton had started seeing a pastoral counselor to deal with his guilt and grief over Quintell’s death. The therapist had suggested his mother be present for some of the sessions. He had done quite well and on her last visit back in March, she had returned to Chicago with a box filled with the remnants of Quinton’s “Quintell shrine.” The room had been redecorated as a guest room where the twins had been staying for the past few days.

  Quinton’s “boys” had attributed his sudden decrease in time and money spent on them to his engagement and impending marriage to Shara. There was no need to tell them Quinton no longer saw the need to rescue Quintell in each of them. He still took them for the occasional pizza party and bought sneakers for the one with the highest grades, but they were now only allowed to call his cell or pager for the most extreme of emergencies. Luckily there had been none.

  Shara’s brother had been grinning at her the entire day. David wouldn’t believe she was marrying the infamous Quinton Mercer until he actually met him in person. Shara knew he would spend the next few weeks telling everyone he saw about how he got a chance to play basketball with an ex-Pro player a few days before the wedding.

  Shara looked over at Keeva who was smiling and blushing as Anthony whispered something in her ear. They had become close friends over the past few months. Anthony had proven to be as patient as promised and hadn’t pressured Keeva for anything further than friendship. Shara could tell she was falling for him though. Keeva insisted she was enjoying her singleness and didn’t want to commit to a relationship just yet, but Shara was figuring on a year before she was asked to be Keeva’s matron of honor.

  Shara smiled thinking back on the Christmas dance recital. That night solidified Keeva’s decision to take the position as the dance instructor. The entire audience was awestruck after each beautifully choreographed piece until the final piece brought the house down. Keeva and company brought
to life Kirk Franklin’s “Lamb of God.” The altar was crammed with people crying and worshipping, and some of the kids’ parents and siblings got saved. Keeva said she was overwhelmed that displaying God through dance could have that kind of effect on people.

  Dancing had an effect on her girls, too. Danae and Shanique were tied for the highest grades of all of the kids in the entire youth program. They were both praying that by the time they finished high school, they’d get full scholarships to Spelman, so they could be “just like Miss Keeva.” Shanique wanted to go to be a teacher, and Danae changed career choices almost daily. Her latest announcement was she wanted to be a pediatrician. Most of the other girls were maintaining their B averages as expected.

  Shara looked around at the many tables filled with “their kids”. She was proud of each one of them and how much they’d grown in the last year. Lakita just finished a semester at Georgia Perimeter College. She had applied to transfer to Georgia State University so she could get a Bachelor’s Degree in early childhood education. She had informed Pastor Kendrick that the church needed a daycare and preschool and that when she finished school, she was going to run it.

  Jamil, under the rigorous tutelage of Quinton, was the star basketball player on his high school team. Even though he often bragged about Jamil’s skills on the court, Quinton constantly reminded him that his education was more important than basketball. Jamil had been the recipient of the last few pairs of sneakers for having the highest grades. He could always be heard talking about going to Morehouse to become a “bidness man,” like Quinton.

  The mentoring program was a big hit and a lot of the older teens were spending the summer shadowing people in the perspective careers. Tyreek talked about becoming a lawyer while Deshawn wanted to be a stockbroker. Sometimes Shara wished they had started working with them sooner so they wouldn’t have to work so hard now to play catch-up. She was excited for her middle school and junior high kids that would get the chance to maintain A and B averages throughout high school and be more prepared for college.

  A representative from the school district had even come to visit the program to see what was responsible for the increased testing scores in the kids from their particular neighborhood. Shara had been overjoyed when other churches in nearby neighborhoods came over for meetings to find out how they could duplicate the program in other communities.