Darkness Before Dawn

Home > Contemporary > Darkness Before Dawn > Page 5
Darkness Before Dawn Page 5

by Sharon M. Draper


  Rita tossed a couple of choice obscenities over her shoulder and continued to run toward the darkness of the woods.

  “You come back here!” he shouted. She ignored him and ran faster, disappearing into the woods. Trying to save face and not look quite so blown away, Jonathan cleared his throat and announced, “We’d better go find her.” He sent everyone out in groups of three, but Rita was nowhere to be found.

  He took us all back to the school then, and filed a report about the “incident,” as he called it, including Rita’s disappearance into the woods. He tried to call her home several times, but no one answered. The whole scene was pretty weird.

  When I finally got home, I was really tired, and a little concerned about Rita. She and I had never been close, but I knew something more than being late to practice had led to Rita’s anger and disappearance. Rita was a senior—a strong runner, but she had often been in trouble at school. She used to cut class, she cussed out a teacher once, and she’d fight if you looked at her sideways. She once had a boyfriend who was almost thirty. We heard she would sneak out of her house to see him until her mother found out and threatened to have the man arrested. But lately, Rita seemed to have been trying to turn things around. She loved running cross-country and had helped the team win several meets.

  I took a long, hot shower and arranged myself on my bed to study with a sandwich, a can of iced tea, and my physics book. Rita’s problems faded from my mind.

  Just as I opened my book, the phone rang. It was Rhonda. “What you doin’, girl?”

  “Tryin’ to study for this physics test. You and Tyrone got it together yet?”

  “Hey, that’s why I called. He is sooo sweet!”

  “Like candy, huh?”

  “I just want to eat him up! Let me tell you what happened after you left.”

  “Spill it, girl.” I closed my book and smiled at the excitement in Rhonda’s voice. I knew this was gonna be good.

  “Well, first he tells me that I am his dream, that without me he has nothing!”

  “I always wanted a dude to tell me that—and really mean it,” I told her.

  “The air was smellin’ good and the colors were all bright and I felt like I was in one of those movies where the music plays violins and stuff while the lovers walk through the forest.”

  “Cool. So it’s really love, Rhonda?” I asked her seriously.

  “You know, I’m not sure if love is like they make it look in the movies; but if love is feeling happy and at peace when he’s around, and excited when I watch him walk across a room, and weak when he kisses me, then I’m in love for sure.” She paused for a bit.

  I asked her quietly, “So what happens now—that you’re sure?”

  Rhonda sighed. “I don’t know, Keisha. I know I don’t trust myself with him alone after dark. Because when I’m alone with him, I got no control. His kisses make me forget everything I ever believed in.”

  “What about him?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  “He feels the same way. Maybe stronger. He kissed me while I was leaning against a tree and it was like a whirlwind began. My heart was pounding, my legs felt rubbery, and my entire body felt all squishy.”

  “Then what happened?” I asked. I knew Rhonda was going to tell me every detail whether I wanted to hear it or not.

  “I reached up and touched his lips. Girl, so soft and delicious, those lips of his! Goodness! Then he kissed me again, and asked me what I was thinking. I didn’t ask him. I knew what was on his mind!” Rhonda laughed.

  “So what did you tell him?”

  “I said, ‘Tyrone, I want to tell you this in the daytime, while the sun is shining,’ and he says, ‘Well you better hurry—it’s getting dark. Then he unzips his jacket and pulls me closer to him and asks me real tender, ‘What’s wrong, Rhonda?’ It was all I could do not to melt into caramel candy right there in his arms.”

  “Girl, this is heavy. Go on,” I said.

  “Well, I took a deep breath and I told him, ‘Tyrone, I don’t want to be like some of the girls at school—like most of them, actually. I don’t want to have sex just to see what it’s like, or to get pregnant because the dude makes pretty babies, or to keep a count of how many dudes I can sleep with before graduation.’ I said it real fast so I wouldn’t lose my nerve.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me he’d hate to think about me with anybody, except him.”

  “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but he had to understand. So I told him, ‘I know, but it’s you and me I’m talking about. You make me want you, Tyrone, but I want to wait. Do you understand?’”

  “I know lots of dudes who drop a girl when they say that and mean it,” I told her. “What did Tyrone say?”

  “He told me he loved me, Keisha! He says, ‘I love you, Rhonda. I’m not just saying that because that’s what a dude says to a girl. I really do care about every fuzzy little hair on your head.’”

  “He’s got you there!” I laughed. Rhonda’s hair had been hard to handle since first grade.

  Rhonda continued, “So he says, ‘I don’t want to do anything we’re not ready for. What the dudes say about their women in the locker room is not where I want to be with you.’ He told me he liked me long before he loved me, and because I was his friend as well as his girlfriend, he didn’t want to do anything that would mess up our friendship. Is that amazing or what?”

  “You got quite a dude there, Rhonda. Hang tight to that one!” I said with envy.

  “Don’t you worry!” Rhonda laughed with delight. “How was practice?” she asked.

  “Interesting. Rob’s little sister Joyelle is running with the team this year. She’s not very fast, but she’s got a lot of spunk, that kid. Rob would be proud of her.”

  “You’re right. She’s doing her best to make it this year,” Rhonda said with admiration. “How’s that fine young Hathaway doing as coach?”

  “He’s a good coach, I guess,” I said. “He takes a lot of time with the girls.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” I knew Rhonda was making a face on the other end of the line. “The girls follow him like flies around dead meat.”

  “Except for Rita Bronson,” I added, remembering.

  “Strange you should mention her,” Rhonda said. “Me and Tyrone took her home tonight.”

  “Really? She was really upset at practice, and never did get on the bus. What did she say to you and Tyrone?”

  “Well, we were heading back to Tyrone’s car, and we saw something move in the distance. It was Rita—huddled in the dirt and crying. Her right arm was bleeding a little. So I asked her how she hurt herself. She seemed to be glad to see me, but all she would tell me is that she fell in some bushes and cut herself.”

  “I wonder what happened?”

  “Maybe she’s got home problems.”

  “I can feel that,” I replied. “But she wouldn’t say. I know she got yelled at by Coach Hathaway for being late to practice, and she was so angry that she tossed a couple of choice cuss words back in his face, telling him to stick his head where the sun don’t shine!”

  Rhonda hooted with delight. “Sweet! I bet that was worth hearing!”

  “Then she just stormed off into the woods by herself. We couldn’t find her after that. Jonathan and Leon looked for her for over an hour.”

  “So now he’s Jonathan?” Rhonda interrupted me, laughing with delight. It was too good to slip by her unnoticed.

  “That’s what he told me to call him—all of us,” I added quickly. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Rhonda said nothing, but I knew she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “So what else happened when you and Tyrone found her?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Well, Tyrone asked her if she wanted us to find Coach Hathaway and she screamed no! like he had mentioned some serial killer,” Rhonda said. “Then she told us that she had quit the team and refused to go back on the bus with them.�
��

  “I wonder what’s going on,” I mused. “I know she hangs with some pretty rough dudes sometimes.”

  “I don’t know. She wouldn’t talk about it,” Rhonda said quietly. “She had a cut on her neck and her arm—looked like more than scratches from bushes to me. Then she asked us to take her home. She didn’t say nothing in the car, but she thanked us and told us she’d see us on Monday.”

  “I wonder how much Coach Jonathan Hathaway knows about her situation. She seemed really angry at him—for more than just yelling at her about practice.”

  Rhonda thought about Coach Hathaway for a moment. “Keisha,” she asked, “Jonathan is always dressed so fine! He’s always walking around raggin’ tough like he’s got mass loot. Where do you think he gets the money? His dad?”

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, “but you’re right about his threads. Hey, I gotta go. I’m gonna be too sleepy to study for this test.” I hung up then, and wondered about the evening’s events as I finished my homework.

  Rita never came back to school. At first the story was that she was sick, then everyone figured she was just skipping school, or maybe had moved. School officials couldn’t find her—letters to her mother came back unopened, the phone was disconnected, and no one answered at the door of the last address anyone had for her. Gradually she moved out of almost everyone’s memory.

  6

  Angel was as thin as the sleet that fell most of November. I noticed at school how Angel was getting, but I barely had time to think about it. I was busy with a part-time job at the mall, mass homework, meeting with the other class officers to plan for senior stuff, and trying to figure out all the college material that came in the mail. One Saturday afternoon I ran into Gerald and Angel at the mall. Gerald said he was on his way with Angel to take her to dance class and they were headed to the food court to get a bite to eat.

  “What’s up, Keisha?” Angel smiled broadly. I think she kinda looked up to me because I was a big-time senior who looked like I had it together. Poor kid. If she only knew how confused I felt.

  “Not much. I’m on break from my job—which I’m gonna be quitting soon.”

  “How come?” asked Gerald.

  “I’ve just got too much to do. I gotta keep my grades up—at least till I get accepted into college somewhere.”

  “Aw, Keisha, if your grades ever dipped down like mine do, you’d probably have a heart attack!” Gerald teased me. “Come with me and Angel. I’m gonna watch her eat this time!” Angel simply rolled her eyes at him and ordered a salad.

  “Don’t you want something else?” I asked Angel.

  “We ordered pizza after practice this morning,” Angel said, but her face said she was lying. “I’m stuffed.” Gerald said nothing, but eyed her suspiciously as he ordered a cheeseburger.

  “Dancing twice a day? Isn’t that a bit much?” Gerald asked her.

  “I’m just trying to get ready for our show. I have a chance for the lead!” Angel’s eyes glowed with excitement and Gerald couldn’t argue with her passion for her dancing.

  I smiled at her as I ordered chicken, chips, and soup and we found a table. “Here, Angel, you can have my soup,” I offered, placing it on Angel’s tray.

  “Thanks, Keisha,” she said, “but I doubt if I have room for so much food. Have you called Jalani yet?” Angel asked her brother, trying to change the subject. I grinned as we watched Gerald squirm. She knew he liked Jalani—everybody knew it, but he had yet to figure out how to tell Jalani himself.

  “No,” Gerald sighed. “What would a classy girl like Jalani want with a guy like me? I got nothing to offer. She’s beautiful, she’s got money, she’s almost famous. She even drives a nicer car than I do. I just like looking at her. I wouldn’t embarrass her by trying to talk to her. What would I talk about?”

  “Give it a chance, Gerald. She told me she thinks you’re cute!” I added, enjoying this too much.

  “You’re dumb, Gerald,” Angel said as she nibbled at her salad. “You’ve got more class than most of the dudes in that school who are always hanging around her. She knows a real man when she sees one. Have you noticed that she doesn’t talk to any of them?”

  “She’s right, Gerald,” I told him, taking one of his french fries.

  “Well, if she doesn’t want to talk to any of them, I know she doesn’t want to talk to me!”

  “Maybe she isn’t talking to them because she’d rather be talking to you,” reasoned Angel.

  “Not a chance!”

  “Give it a try.”

  “Can’t.” I know Gerald hated feeling like a seventh-grade idiot, but that was how Jalani affected him.

  “Like I said, dumb!” Angel repeated. “But I love you, Gerald. You just have to believe that you’re lovable.”

  “You have to love me ’cause I’m your brother.”

  “I have to love you because you have a car now and I have a ride home, even if it is an old beat-up Ford!”

  “She has a new red BMW!” I added.

  “Don’t remind me!” groaned Gerald.

  “So ask her for a ride in it.” Now I knew that Jalani would jump at the chance to talk to Gerald, but she had too much dignity to call him first.

  “Not a chance,” Gerald insisted.

  “Give it a try.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Like I said, dumb!”

  “Talk about dumb! You ate nothing! Here, finish my fries—the ones that Keisha didn’t sneak off the plate!”

  “I hate cold fries—and I told you I ate after practice.” Angel got up from the table and put on her coat. Her large down coat made her tiny body look even smaller. “See ya, Keisha. We tried to talk some sense into his big head!”

  I watched them leave and thought about Gerald’s pride. He and Angel lived in a high-rise apartment in a low-rent neighborhood. I knew that Gerald wasn’t ashamed of where he lived, but he had told me many times that he was afraid that a girl who had modeled in New York and drove her own red BMW wouldn’t understand the world that Gerald called home. And he wasn’t going to give her the chance to find out. I sighed and headed back to my job.

  After work, while I was unlocking the door to my house, I could hear the phone ringing insistently. I dropped my purse and packages, and chuckled at myself. What was I working for? More than half of my paycheck went for clothes at the store I worked at! Even with my employee discount, I had very little left. But I did get to rag it tough! I rushed to pick up the phone. It was Jalani, sounding concerned.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s Angel!” Jalani told me breathlessly. “She collapsed at dance class tonight and had to be rushed to the hospital!”

  “Oh no! I just saw Angel and Gerald at the mall a few hours ago! Were you there when it happened? Tell me what’s goin’ on!”

  “I started taking classes at the conservatory a few weeks ago,” Jalani explained. “I didn’t even know Angel was taking classes there, too. But right in the middle of class, a girl ran into our room, screaming, ‘Help! Somebody call 911! A girl passed out in our class!’ So I ran over there to see if I could help, and it’s Angel sprawled out on the floor. It was scary.”

  “So what did you do?” I asked. My heart was pounding.

  “Well, Angel’s teacher’s got gumdrops for brains. She’s screaming hysterically into the confusion, ‘Does anyone know CPR?’”

  “You mean the dance teacher didn’t know CPR? That’s unbelievable!”

  “That’s what I thought, but I didn’t have time to worry about her problems just then. Angel didn’t look like she was breathing. So I told the ditzy teacher that I knew CPR, and me and this other girl in my class started doing the breathing and compressions.”

  “So was Angel breathing at this point?” I interrupted.

  “I don’t know, girl. Angel didn’t move, except for the movements we made as we worked on her. I was so scared we were going to lose her. She was blue and clammy, and so thin and frail. Pretty soon we hea
rd the sirens from the life squad. I just prayed they’d get there in time.”

  “Oh my goodness! What happened when they got there? Did she come to?”

  “Hold on. I’m trying to tell you. When the life squad burst in the door, Gerald was right behind them, screaming her name. He’d been waiting in the parking lot, and when he saw the ambulance, he told me later that somehow he just knew it was Angel they had come for. That dude really loves his baby sister!”

  “You got that right! So tell me, what happened then?”

  “Gerald ran to the front, pushing the paramedics aside, screaming, ‘That’s my sister!’ They got him out of the way by explaining that he was stopping them from helping her, so he just stood there helplessly, not ashamed to cry or pray.”

  “Poor Gerald,” I murmured. “I feel for him.”

  “While they worked on her, setting up oxygen and starting an IV and stuff, I walked over to Gerald and took his hand. It was as natural and easy as breathing. He was so scared. He grabbed my hand, forgot about how scared he was of me, and didn’t turn it loose until they took Angel out of there. I don’t think he was even aware of it. He was only thinking about Angel.”

  “So when they took her out, was she breathing?”

  “Yeah, her color had returned just a little and her eyelids had flickered a little. The paramedics told Gerald they had her stabilized and for him to follow them to the hospital. He was too shaky to drive, so we ended up going in my car.”

  “It’s funny how things happen,” I told her. “Gerald has been dying to talk to you and ride in your BMW, and all of a sudden, because of a crisis, it falls in his lap.”

  “I know. If both of us hadn’t been so scared of what might happen to Angel, it might have taken the whole school year before he got around to talkin’ to me.” Jalani chuckled. “The paramedics said before they pulled out, ‘Angel is in good hands now. You two drive carefully. I don’t want you and your girlfriend getting hurt.’ Gerald and I both giggled a little over that,” Jalani admitted.

  I still sat on the floor among the bags I had brought in with me. I had taken off my coat and shoes and listened like no tomorrow. “I feel you, girlfriend.”

 

‹ Prev