worrying about y’all fools messing with him. Come hell or high water, there ain’t nothing going to harm that boy. Especially these games y’all playing in these streets. Now I’ve got to live here, Reggie. It’s on you to make this right. I ain’t playing either. And you best tell your little gooney squad there will be no addition to y’all’s little crew. So rethink it. Y’all stay with that Squad Six business y’all like to write on the walls everywhere, and Dre’s going to be a kid.”
He cut me off.
“I got you, Miss Ruby. You right. I’m grown. I’ll make it right with Andre and Beezy. Just understand, you really stretching out my box on this one.”
With that being said, I turned around and strutted away. And to my delight, I didn’t even need to raise my blood pressure going up the other end of the block and dealing withSmoke and his pure ignorance. As I started walking back toward my house, Miss Myra was heading my way.
“Ruby, I know you’ve heard about this. Little Brendan cried himself to sleep last night. Them boys didn’t want to fight, girl.”
“Girl, who you telling? I know them knuckleheads put them up to it. I just got done setting Reggie straight.”
“Yeah, Stanley knows what’s up. Ain’t gon’ be no more problems. He values the life he lives. Girl, these boys think they tough. I told that boy if I hear he’s messing with his little brother anymore, bone marrow gon’ fly. He knows.”
4
Progress Report
Me and my older sister Nina were setting the table for dinner when I heard the tick of Pop beating on his snare drum rising from the basement. My smile met Nina’s frozen face. The tick followed by the kick of his bass drum immediately broke me out with chill bumps. I didn’t even know he was home. Pop liked to sneak in and out of the house through the basement door, that way we couldn’t keep track of his comings and goings. Ma was on the back porch grilling some chicken. Nina’s eyes got wide and then sunk into her face as she rolled them. “Guess we need to set one more, huh?” she complained and tossed me an extra place mat.
“I love it,” she whined, “how he comes in here and tries to play it cool. Shit’s not cool, Dre. When was the last time we even saw his sorry ass, huh?”
She paused. “Oh, yeah, you right, you can’t remember, huh?”
I really didn’t have much to say. She wasn’t too far off. Ever since the night we saw him hit Ma and the police took him away, he’s shown his long drawn-out face in the house less and less. It’s just Pop’s way, he’s a rolling stone, always gone and no one knows where he’s at or what he’s doing other than drugs, his one true companion in life. Ma says she thinks he’s out there hustling and working under the table so he won’t have to pay child support, but I don’t know.
Pop’s timing couldn’t have been worse. Of all the days to show up, he had to come home for the worst possible dinner of the fourth term. Progress report day. The barbeque chicken and grilled corn filled the house with an aroma that made me want to eat the air. But when I heard Pop in the basement, I started to feel the burn of the butterflies flapping in my belly. It was bad enough that I knew Ma would ask in her sweet little Negro-I-wish-you-would-lie-to-me voice, “Didn’t progress reports come out today?” But to make things worse, Pop would get to throw in his two cents.
Ma’s temper was not above coming upside my head and Pop’s an erratic bungee-cord-type nigga, I never quite knew when he was gonna snap. Factoring all this together, I came to the conclusion that sitting the four of us at a table for dinner was like mixing all the ingredients for a Molotov cocktail. Shit was gonna jump off one way or another. The common denominator would be Pop. He was liable to get into it with Ma. They always seemed to be in each other’s faces about God knows what. Then Nina and Pop couldn’t get along for shit either. Nina
He cut me off.
“I got you, Miss Ruby. You right. I’m grown. I’ll make it right with Andre and Beezy. Just understand, you really stretching out my box on this one.”
With that being said, I turned around and strutted away. And to my delight, I didn’t even need to raise my blood pressure going up the other end of the block and dealing withSmoke and his pure ignorance. As I started walking back toward my house, Miss Myra was heading my way.
“Ruby, I know you’ve heard about this. Little Brendan cried himself to sleep last night. Them boys didn’t want to fight, girl.”
“Girl, who you telling? I know them knuckleheads put them up to it. I just got done setting Reggie straight.”
“Yeah, Stanley knows what’s up. Ain’t gon’ be no more problems. He values the life he lives. Girl, these boys think they tough. I told that boy if I hear he’s messing with his little brother anymore, bone marrow gon’ fly. He knows.”
4
Progress Report
Me and my older sister Nina were setting the table for dinner when I heard the tick of Pop beating on his snare drum rising from the basement. My smile met Nina’s frozen face. The tick followed by the kick of his bass drum immediately broke me out with chill bumps. I didn’t even know he was home. Pop liked to sneak in and out of the house through the basement door, that way we couldn’t keep track of his comings and goings. Ma was on the back porch grilling some chicken. Nina’s eyes got wide and then sunk into her face as she rolled them. “Guess we need to set one more, huh?” she complained and tossed me an extra place mat.
“I love it,” she whined, “how he comes in here and tries to play it cool. Shit’s not cool, Dre. When was the last time we even saw his sorry ass, huh?”
She paused. “Oh, yeah, you right, you can’t remember, huh?”
I really didn’t have much to say. She wasn’t too far off. Ever since the night we saw him hit Ma and the police took him away, he’s shown his long drawn-out face in the house less and less. It’s just Pop’s way, he’s a rolling stone, always gone and no one knows where he’s at or what he’s doing other than drugs, his one true companion in life. Ma says she thinks he’s out there hustling and working under the table so he won’t have to pay child support, but I don’t know.
Pop’s timing couldn’t have been worse. Of all the days to show up, he had to come home for the worst possible dinner of the fourth term. Progress report day. The barbeque chicken and grilled corn filled the house with an aroma that made me want to eat the air. But when I heard Pop in the basement, I started to feel the burn of the butterflies flapping in my belly. It was bad enough that I knew Ma would ask in her sweet little Negro-I-wish-you-would-lie-to-me voice, “Didn’t progress reports come out today?” But to make things worse, Pop would get to throw in his two cents.
Ma’s temper was not above coming upside my head and Pop’s an erratic bungee-cord-type nigga, I never quite knew when he was gonna snap. Factoring all this together, I came to the conclusion that sitting the four of us at a table for dinner was like mixing all the ingredients for a Molotov cocktail. Shit was gonna jump off one way or another. The common denominator would be Pop. He was liable to get into it with Ma. They always seemed to be in each other’s faces about God knows what. Then Nina and Pop couldn’t get along for shit either. Nina
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