Read Online Unconditional by Eva Marie Everson - Free Book Online Page A

but to all the kids.
    Beyond them, on the last table, one lonely snow cone rested in its cardboard container. I thought of Keisha and of how Macon had taken most of the candy I’d meant for her. She’d looked so disappointed, though I had a hunch this was not unusual behavior from her older brother. In fact, I suspected that, to his way of thinking, the candy had been meant for him all along.
    I walked past Denise and the studious children. Lifting the snow cone I said, “Hey, Denise? Tell Joe I’ll be back in a little bit.”
    I didn’t bother to ask if I could take the snow cone. I knew she and Joe wouldn’t mind, especially if they knew where I was headed with it.
    â€œOkay, baby,” she said.
    I walked the length of the ivy-laced fence, between the chain-link and the unpainted boards of the privacy fence, to a place big enough for anyone—child or adult—to pass through, to the front of the house and to the street where my car was parked. Mattie’s apartment was only a couple of streets over, so within minutes I was back at the apartment building. This time I parked closer to where I now knew Macon and Keisha lived. When I stepped out of the car, snow cone in hand, I paused to observe a group of older age girls skipping rope, chanting and laughing. Watching them reminded me of the song I’d heard Joe and Denise sing with the children, making me wish I’d done or said something more than “uh.”
    I wondered why these girls were not a part of Joe’s group. Age, perhaps? Had Joe and Denise not started what was obviously their mission here until recently? And if so, what happened to cause Joe to want to be a part of all this?
    As I stepped around the corner of a building and came within earshot and eyesight of Macon and Keisha’s home, I heard Macon’s laughter. It reverberated through the common area and bounced between the lines of freshly washed clothes. Anthony’s front storm door slammed open, hitting the wall and rattling the bars. I watched as Macon dashed out of the dark apartment, proudly sporting a man’s red hoodie. It hung on his body two sizes too big as he performed an impromptu dance between their two buildings.
    â€œBoy!”
    I stepped back behind the corner of the apartment building, inching my head around the edge to see Anthony storming after Macon. He no longer wore his do-rag. His hair was neatly braided into short cornrows. A large tattoo stood prominent on the side of his neck, something I hadn’t noticed before. He wore only a muscle tee, his work pants, and boots.
    Macon turned to look at the man he obviously admired, though I couldn’t imagine why. “Yo, yo!” Macon chanted. “Check out the OG, holdin’ it down out here! Yeah!”
    Anthony strode toward Macon, grabbed him by the shoulders. He glanced in my direction, which caused me to duck behind the wall before peering again. Anthony jerked the hoodie from Macon’s body. “Don’t you ever let me catch you wearin’ this again, you hear me?” He wadded the hoodie with his hands. Even from where I stood, I could see the veins bulging along his neck.
    The hurt registering on Macon’s face met head-on with the anger and indignation in Anthony’s. I couldn’t quite read T. Was this anger because Macon had gotten into his personal possessions? Or was it like that of a father trying to raise his son not to cross some line, some boundary? Clearly the red hoodie was more than just any piece of clothing. This one, I began to see, tied the young men in this neighborhood together.
    â€œMan, what’s wrong witchu?” Macon’s voice rose an octave higher than usual. “I was just playing!” He was wounded, not by Anthony’s force so much, but by his displeasure. Anyone could see that.
    â€œGo home, Macon!”
    â€œMan, I’m sorry, all right?” The words echoed between the