Man of the House with cover

make sure that Brian could continue to be the happy little boy he
had always been.

I
 don’t
 know
 if
 it
 was
 God
 or
 a
 saint,
 but
 the
 ‘person’
 led
 me
 
around
 throughout
 ‘Heaven’
 and
 I
 saw
 things.
 I
 saw
 my
 mother
 
crying herself to sleep after putting me to bed as a little boy. She
was so lonely and had been for so long before she even met
Michael or Melvin. My grandparents had gotten into an argument
and were trying to force each other to sit at home and care for her.
They both left, and neither of them came back for a day or so. My
great grandmother came by looking in on them and noticed my
mother there alone and took her. Auntie Millie and Auntie Fay
were older than Mama and if not for them, my grandmother would
have never given Mama back. As Auntie Fay and Auntie Millie grew
older and more self-sufficient and mature,
 my
 grandmother’s
 
habits never improved. My grandfather did his thing, and Mama
was the casualty of most of it.

Unlike some people who go through temporary times of
turmoil,
 Mama’s
 childhood
 and
 adolescence
 was
 a
 permanent
 
crisis that nobody sought to address. I would guess that she fought
her way out of it the best she could, but a lot of the residual effects
of negative relationship dynamics. To get her to do things or not do
things, Mama was manipulated by people withdrawing their love
from her, and she did it to us. When she got mad at us as little kids
and even as adults, she would cut us off from love. As little boys, it
was very disappointing and confusing. I had the clarity to know
why when Auntie Millie would come and tell us that our mother
loved
 us
 and
 things
 were
 okay,
 but
 we
 didn’t
 feel
 relieved.
 No
 
matter
 what,
 she
 didn’t
 give
 us
 up
 for
 adoption
 or
 abandon
 us
 
physically, but still we felt like she had abandoned us. Well, I felt
like she had abandoned me emotionally, and that was even worse.
That was the same game I played on Vanessa for so long, and after
I could see the full scope of the picture, I felt totally different about
how I organized my memories. So many things were emotionally
liberating.
 The
 part
 that
 wasn’t
 was
 the
 images of Michael living
very high on the hog while Mama and we struggled. I hoped I was
wrong, but the visions were pin point accurate about so many
other things. Michael lived pretty well, and even excluding the
financial aspect of it, he could have done little things that would
have helped us be better people. I knew the vision was correct

343

when I saw him sitting by the phone on my birthday and thinking
about whether to call and then deciding to not do it. He never told
his parents I even existed, and he let my grandmother go to her
grave
 thinking
 that
 I
 was
 Melvin’s
 son.
 I
 was
 upset,
 but
 oddly,
 I
 
wasn’t
 mad.
 I
 decided
 to
 use
 all
 that
 I
 had
 been
 exposed
 to—and
anything I would soon learn—as instruction for what things I
absolutely could not do to my children or myself. The strangest
thing
 about
 it
 all
 is
 that
 I
 was
 calm
 all
 the
 way
 through;
 I
 didn’t
 
even want to be upset. I felt like a man. I had heard that having the
information to make the right decisions would eliminate the
confusion that was the root of anger, but that was the first time I
had ever had all of the answers I needed to feel objective about
things that were less than favorable to me.

As I sat there and thought, the bedroom door opened and
Makayla ran in and jumped on the bed. Anthony walked in behind
her, and Sheila held Brian, who was calm and dressed in his little
night suit. Makayla looked like a little angel in her white, frilly
nightgown
 and
 hair
 flowing
 down
 her
 back.
 The
 look
 on
 Anthony’s
 
face said he knew something or had spoken to Sheila or Vanessa or
somebody in private. Sheila had a peculiar look on her face as well.
Her underlying eyes said she was horny and would definitely be
back to handle her business after the kids were all put to bed.

I
 looked
 at
 Anthony
 and
 asked,
 “What
 are
 you
 all
 up
 to?”

He
 said
 innocently,
 “Coming
 to
 kiss
 you
 goodnight
 and
 make
 
sure
 you
 are
 ready
 for
 the
 game
 tomorrow.”

I
 asked,
 “The
 game,
 huh?”

Makayla crawled under the sheets, and I tickled her stomach
with my finger as she balled up to get away as she laughed. She
lifted her arm so I could tickle her there; I obliged her more than
once. Brian was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even that late at
night, but I knew that would be short-lived. I reached out to him
and Sheila handed him to me. Damn, that boy was getting heavy. I
said,
 “Geez,
 Babe,
 what
 did
 you
 feed
 him?”

“Concrete
 and
 rocks,”
 she
 said
 sarcastically.

344

I
 said,
 “Yeah,
 he
 feels
 like
 it.”
 Goodness,
 he
 was
 getting
 solid.
 I
 
still flipped his little top up and blew bubbles on his stomach and
he laughed. Anthony smiled, and I could tell he had something
burning
 in
 his
 mouth
 to
 get
 out,
 but
 he
 held
 it.
 I
 asked,
 “Are
 you
 
ready
 for
 tomorrow?”
 He
 looked
 up,
 and
 Sheila
 looked
 down
 at
 
him
 like
 they
 were
 holding
 a
 secret.
 I
 said,
 “Okay
 you
 two,
 what’s
 
going
 on?”

Sheila
 said,
 “Can’t
 your
 son
 be
 excited
 about
 a
 big
 game
 
tomorrow with all of his family coming to watch? Who says
anything
 is
 wrong?
 Maybe
 stuff
 is
 just
 right.”

I said,
 “Well,
 maybe.”

She
 confirmed,
 “Yeah,
 maybe
 is
 right.”

“Yeah,
 Dad,
 maybe,”
 Anthony
 seconded.

I
 looked
 at
 Makayla
 and
 asked,
 “What
 do
 you
 think,
 Muffin?”

She
 answered,
 “Maybeeeee-eeeee-eeee!”
 as
 I
 tickled
 her
 ribs.
 
That was good enough for me, so I decided to let it go. They all
kissed me, and Sheila took them to go to bed. I knew she would be
back and in a frisky mood.

When the door cracked open, I was already laying back in the
bed, naked, with my dick making a tent out of the sheets. Sheila
took longer than I thought she would, but when the door did open,
a big bowl of ice cream floated in first and taunted me to come to
the door. Sheila held the bowl in her hand, and with her finger she
signaled me to come to the door.

Should
 I
 take
 the
 bait?
 I
 did,
 because
 there
 didn’t
 seem
 to
 be
 any
 
negatives to the offer. Just as I got close to the door and ready to
reach out for the bowl of ice cream, the door swung wide open and
oohh la-la. Sheila stood there butt naked looking absolutely
scrumptious. She batted her eyes and withdrew the bowl closer to
her
 as
 she
 asked,
 “Which
 one
 do
 you
 want—something hot or
something
 cold?”

That
 was
 a
 no
 brainer.
 I
 said,
 “You
 better
 get
 in
 here
 before
 the
 
kids come out of their rooms and see you.”

345

She walked away into the hallway and opened the doors of all
the
 kids
 and
 asked,
 “Do
 you
 see
 any
 kids
 around
 here?”

I was tripping. I wondered what the hell happened to the kids.
Then I heard buss-giggle-giggle uooommm, the three garage doors
go
 down.
 I
 was
 amazed
 and
 I
 instinctively
 asked,
 “Sheila,
 why
 are
 
you
 so
 damn
 good
 to
 me?”

When she heard me ask that, the smile slowly faded from her
face
 as
 she
 walked
 toward
 me
 and
 said,
 “Eric,
 you
 are
 good
 to
 me,
 
too.
 Even
 when
 things
 aren’t perfect, I do the things that have
proven to be beneficial for the short and long term prosperity of
this
 family.
 That
 doesn’t
 mean
 everything
 I
 do
 or
 have
 done
 is
 fun
 
and festive, but the ultimate goal is my focus. Your prosperity and
development is my prosperity and development as a woman and
as a person. Women go to their graves and never enjoy the full
multi-dimensional bliss of not having a full life that includes the
men they love. A woman can be a woman without a man, but trust
me—every woman would prefer to have the influence in her life
that comes from romance and true companionship with a MAN.
The greatest miracle in the world is to conceive our children and
share in the raising and rearing of lives that we both created. You
complete me, Eric, in the way that men were meant to complete
women.
 Now,
 let’s
 stop
 talking
 and
 analyzing
 that
 and
 spend
 more
 
time
 doing
 it
 than
 thinking
 about
 it.”

After she made the best love to me that I had ever had, I lay
there in bed beside her and looked at the bowl of what used to be
ice cream that had never been eaten. She was purring in her sleep
with a big smile on her face as she lay wrapped in my arms. The
only light in the room was from the full moon shining in the
window. I focused my eyes on it and began to speak to God again. I
was better, and I wanted to make sure that from then on, I turned
to the spirit in times of joy as well as in times of pain. I slightly
remembered comments Vanessa and Bev made about me
becoming better and being a better person. It was true, and I hoped
they could enjoy the same kind of emotional and spiritual rebirth
that I had. I curled my body around my wife to hold her tight, and I
closed
 my
 eyes
 softly
 so
 the
 tears
 trapped
 in
 the
 corners
 didn’t
 roll
 
away.

346

In the morning, Sheila
 woke
 before
 I
 did,
 and
 I
 didn’t
 feel
 her
 
get out of the bed. I was awakened by her gentle kissing on my ear
and
 whispering,
 “Baby,
 it’s
 the
 big
 day.
 Come
 on
 and
 eat
 and
 let’s
 
get
 ready.”
 She
 had
 my
 clothes
 laid
 out,
 and
 I
 could
 smell
 that
 food
 
was prepared. I could also hear that there were people downstairs.
I expected it to be Maritsa and the kids, but then I sat up and I
could smell it—cheese grits and fish. I knew it before she even said
it,
 “Your
 mother
 wanted
 to
 come
 over
 and
 make
 breakfast
 before
we
 all
 went
 to
 the
 game.”

I was nervous but very anxious and excited. Before I went
downstairs, I showered and dressed and primped like it was my
wedding day. I guess I was taking too long because I heard Auntie
Fay
 yelling,
 “What’s
 taking
 that
 boy
 so
 long?
 Who
 do
 he
 think
 he’s
 
going to see play—Reggie
 Jackson?”
 She
 knew
 Reggie
 Jackson
 was
 
an old Yankee. She also knew that I would die to see him. I hurried;
I
 couldn’t
 wait
 to
 get
 downstairs.

When I got to the kitchen, I thought I would try to be helpful
and set the table, but it was already done. I looked around to see
how
 I
 could
 be
 helpful
 or
 ‘make
 myself
 useful,’
 like
 Auntie
 Millie
 
used to tell us to do. Mama stood there in front of the stove with all
the eyes going and the oven baking biscuits. She was working it
like an old school D.J. at a house party. I walked up behind her like I
would do Sheila, and she must have known I was coming because
she leaned her head over and accepted my kiss. It made me feel so
good. Everybody smiled. Anthony was finishing peeling potatoes,
and
 when
 he
 saw
 Mama
 smile
 back
 at
 me,
 I
 don’t
 know
 who
 smiled
 
bigger—him or me. He dropped the potato in the bowl of water
and
 ran
 to
 hug
 me.
 God
 is
 good,
 y’all.

I looked around and saw there was a lot of food being prepared
and
 way
 too
 many
 place
 settings
 for
 just
 us.
 I
 asked,
 “Who
 else
 is
 
coming
 to
 eat
 breakfast?”

Auntie
 Fay
 answered
 with
 an
 authoritative
 resolve,
 “Family!”

That was good enough for me. Sheila was fumbling around in
the fridge and said, “Oh,
 darn!
 Eric,
 sweetheart,
 we
 need
 some
 
more
 juice.
 Would
 you
 mind
 going
 to
 the
 store
 for
 some?”

347

I
 didn’t
 mind
 at
 all.
 I
 asked,
 “Sure,
 what
 kind
 do
 you
 want—
orange,
 apple,
 grape…?”

Auntie
 Fay
 said,
 “Who’s
 gonna
 buy
 juice?
 This
 boy
 was
 taught
 to
 
squeeze
 juice
 like
 we
 had
 to
 do.
 Don’t
 get
 brand
 new,
 Patrick.”

I
 fell
 right
 into
 my
 childhood
 mindset
 and
 whined,
 “But
 Auntie
 
Fay,
 I’ll
 be
 squeezing
 stuff
 all
 day,
 plus
 I’ll
 have
 to go to the store to
get
 the
 fruit,
 anyway.”

She
 wasn’t
 having
 it.
 She
 said,
 “Boy,
 please,
 I
 gave
 y’all
 a
 juicer
 
for
 a
 wedding
 gift.”
 She
 pulled
 a
 strap
 out
 of
 her
 purse
 and
 
threatened,
 “Did
 you
 forget
 the
 gift
 I
 worked
 my
 knuckles
 to
 the
 
bone to get
 for
 you?”
 I
 saw
 a
 funny
 look
 on
 her
 face
 as
 a
 tear
 almost
 
fell
 from
 her
 eye.
 She
 said,
 “I’m
 not
 here
 to
 start
 anything,
 but
 you
 
understand something right now. Tony, you listen, too. You all are
all we have, and if we seem upset or mean to you at times, it’s
 
because
 we
 are
 old,
 baby.
 We
 won’t
 live
 forever,
 and
 the
 only
 way
 
we live on is in your lives and in your minds. Anything you do,
good or bad, lives with us. Tony, when your mommy and daddy
didn’t
 get
 married
 and
 things
 didn’t
 seem
 to
 be
 working
 out,
 it hurt
us.
 But
 I’m
 saying
 all
 this
 to
 tell
 you
 that
 we
 are
 here
 now
 to
 
celebrate and be thankful because we have all the pieces of a
family
 for
 once.
 It
 doesn’t
 have
 to
 be
 in
 perfect,
 man
 to
 woman
 
order, but families make do. Families manage and fill the gaps.
When you married Sheila, Patrick, we had the first wedding and
marriage
 we
 knew
 of
 in
 our
 family
 for
 a
 long
 time.
 We
 can’t
 afford
 
to lose anybody in mind, body, or spirit. I have waited and I
deserve
 to
 see
 the
 ‘fruits’
 of
 all
 the
 labor
 and
 when
 the
 time comes,
I want to see it, feel it, know it, and if I can, literally and figuratively
drink it and have the blessing that God has given me, nourish this
old
 body.
 Amen.
 I
 gave
 you
 that
 gift
 for
 a
 purpose,
 Patrick.”

She looked away toward Mama, who had her head bowed and
her back turned. When she looked toward Mama, she broke eye
contact with us, and we looked at Mama, too. Auntie Fay looked at
me and walked to Mama to hug her and hold her head up and say,
“Get
 your
 head
 up,
 girl.
 I’m
 old,
 but
 I’m
 not
 too
 old
 to
 be
 happy.
 I’m
 
gonna
 be
 happy,
 and
 I’m
 gonna
 die
 happy.
 You,
 too!”

Anthony
 sobbed
 and
 said,
 “You’re
 not
 going
 to
 die,
 Auntie
 Fay.”

348

She
 smiled
 at
 him
 and
 said,
 “No,
 sweetheart,
 Auntie
 Fay
 is
 going
 
to die one day. It might not be soon, but it will come. But you can
best
 believe
 that
 from
 now
 on,
 I’m
 going
 to
 enjoy
 everything
 the
 
Lord brings into my life. And if you pitch a baseball or graduate
college,
 get
 married,
 whatever,
 like
 I’m
 here
 today,
 I’ll
 be
 there
 for
 
that too, God willing. Somebody gotta keep your ole rusty Daddy in
line;
 you,
 too.”

She smiled through her tears and touched Anthony on the nose
with her finger. She used to do that to me, Manny, and Buster.
Mama cheered up, too. Sheila smiled, and as we all looked around,
the doorbell rang. Anthony ran to answer it. I knew it was Vanessa
because
 he
 sang,
 “Hi,
 Mommy.”

I excused myself out to hurry and go get more fruit to make
juice.
 I
 wasn’t
 running
 from
 Vanessa;
 I
 just
 knew
 that
 if
 people
 
were going to show up, I needed
 to
 hurry
 so
 folks
 wouldn’t
 be
 
sitting at the table, parched. I grabbed my keys and sped to the
grocery store. On the way out of the neighborhood, I passed Bev as
she watered her lawn. She looked magnificent as usual, and I
waved. I would have stopped to talk and give her a joyful kiss on
the
 cheek
 if
 I’d
 had
 more
 time.
 I
 didn’t
 consider
 her
 any
 less
 of
 a
 
friend; our friendship had truly evolved to something very positive
and beneficial to each of us. She might still want to be sexual with
me, but I knew
 that
 I
 wouldn’t
 have
 a
 problem
 resisting
 her
 or
 
controlling any compulsion to say or do anything suggestive
toward her. Right before I got too far past her house, I hit the
brakes. I backed up real quick, pulled over, and yelled out the
window,
 “Get
 washed up and go to my house for breakfast. My
Mama
 came
 to
 cook!”
 She
 threw
 her
 hands
 up
 like
 she
 didn’t
 know
 
what
 I
 was
 talking
 about.
 I
 didn’t
 know
 if
 she
 had
 eaten
 or
 what,
 
but
 I
 just
 waved
 my
 hand
 and
 said,
 “Go,
 go,
 Bev.
 I’m
 running
 short
 
on
 time!”

I
 sped
 off
 and
 didn’t
 even
 look
 back
 to
 see
 if
 she
 went
 inside.
 
When I got to the store, I walked around quickly, wondering what
kind of fruit to buy. I thought about buying some canned fruit to
make juice or even the canned fruit. Then I thought no, I better not.
I walked past the frozen juice refrigerator and got some ideas. I
bought five big pineapples, a gang of peaches, three bushels of
bananas, five pounds of white grapes, one of those big bags of

349

apples, and a whole tray of strawberries. I knew I wouldn’t
 use
 
them all for the juice, but I could find a very tasty use in eating
them
 off
 Sheila’s
 body
 later
 that
 night.
 I
 left
 the
 store
 with
 my
 arms
 
full and running like O.J. on those old rental car commercials.

When I got back home, the house was full. I knew who was
there because of the cars. I almost choked on my own spit when I
saw
 Vanessa’s
 mother’s
 car
 in
 the
 front
 drive.
 Then,
 there
 was
 a
 car
 
I
 didn’t
 recognize
 that
 caught
 my
 eye
 as
 I
 drove
 around
 back.
 I
 
found out who drove that navy blue Jaguar when I got inside, and I
knew the vision I had the night before was truly a spiritual thing. I
recognized the head from behind as I had seen it before.

I walked in the house and took a deep breath and when I turned
the corner, I could see Mama, Auntie Fay, and Ms. Miller sitting at
the small kitchen table talking to Michael. Makayla ran to me and
yelled,
 “Ooooh,
 Daddy,
 what
 did
 you
 bring
 me?”

Everybody turned to look at me as I sat the bags down. The
crowd gathered quickly. Vanessa, Florence, and to my surprise,
Jackie walked in from the front room with Anthony. Bev was there,
and she and Maritsa walked in behind Phillip as he pushed the
little
 guide
 with
 his
 mouth
 that
 made
 the
 wheelchair
 move.
 I
 didn’t
 
know what to say; my palms were all sweaty. The only thing I
could think of to say or do and find any security was to
automatically
 defer
 to
 my
 children
 and
 ask,
 “Where’s
 Brian?”

Mama
 answered,
 “Right
 here
 sitting
 in
 his
 grandfather’s
 lap.”

Michael turned to show Brian sitting contently in his lap. I felt a
little threatened, but I knew that babies have a built in bullshit
alarm,
 and
 Brian’s
 is
 always
 set
 on
 whisper
 mode.
 The
 look
 on
 my
 
face must have said volumes because Phillip spoke up first and
said,
 “Forgiveness
 starts
 in
 the
 heart, Eric. You and me got a lot
more history than you and him do. Look, this is what it took me
fifteen
 years
 to
 learn
 to
 do.”
 I
 watched
 and
 so
 did
 everybody
 else
 as
 
he barely moved his hand and fingers off the side of the
wheelchair.
 He
 said,
 “My
 goal
 has been to shake your hand for a
long
 time.
 I’m
 gonna
 make
 it,
 too.”

That was enough for me. I swallowed all of the anger and
resentment that very instant and walked to Michael and held out

350

my hand to shake. He stood and held Brian in his arm and hugged
me with the other free arm. He hugged me strong and thumped my
back
 like
 he
 never
 wanted
 to
 let
 me
 go.
 There
 wasn’t
 a
 dry
 eye
 in
 
the
 house.
 Mama
 broke
 the
 tension
 and
 silence
 as
 she
 said,
 “Food’s
 
getting
 cold,
 Patrick.
 I
 haven’t
 put
 the
 eggs
 on
 yet.
 You better get to
that
 juice
 making.”

351

Chapter 28

I made banana, grape, peach, orange, and strawberry juice with
a twist of apple and lemon to give it a spike. Everybody thought it
was going to be nasty, but when they tasted it, they almost lost
their minds. I was in a euphoric funk and I made so much juice that
I decided to freeze the rest in Styrofoam cups and take it to the
baseball
 game.
 We
 had
 time
 because
 the
 game
 wasn’t
 until
 2:00
 
o’clock.
 I
 was
 glad
 everybody
 came
 and
 Sheila
 didn’t
 have
 to
 say
 it,
but I knew she organized the affair. I remembered her telling the
group of people in the mall that families handle their business at
home. That was truly the better idea than to have all of those raw
emotions being displayed at the baseball diamond. Everybody got
along,
 and
 I
 was
 even
 surprised
 that
 Florence
 didn’t
 have
 anything
 
negative
 to
 say
 to
 anybody.
 I
 hadn’t
 seen
 Jackie
 in
 years,
 and
 she
 
had lost a lot of weight. I tried to keep my chin up as I watched how
much effort it took to care for Phillip. Somebody must have briefed
Michael on how everybody was related because he was very
familiar with everybody and their personality differences. He came
out to the garage and asked if I needed help loading the truck with
everything. I did need help, so I said,
 “You’re
 right
 on
 time.”

He smiled, and we both figuratively rolled up our sleeves and
got to work. I had junk, and then I had junk to maintain the junk. I
also needed to bring along junk to clean up the mess I made with
the
 junk.
 I
 didn’t
 think
 he and I would get into a deep conversation,
but
 he
 must
 have
 felt
 very
 courageous
 and
 said,
 “Nobody
 can
 
change the past, but I can make sure my efforts in the present and
future
 show
 that
 I
 want
 to
 be
 a
 part
 of
 you
 all’s
 lives.”

I
 wasn’t
 upset
 as
 much as
 I
 was
 curious.
 I
 asked,
 “Was
 it
 that
 
easy
 to
 walk
 away
 and
 stay
 away?”

He
 said,
 “Hell,
 nawl.
 I’m
 fifty-four years old and it took me this
long to know that I been busting my ass to avoid stuff harder than I
would’ve
 if
 I
 just
 came
 clean.
 Melvin
 did
 shit
 that
 I
 couldn’t
 stand,
 
but when I tried to say something, he always had an answer that if
I raised my own kids like I tried to raise his, I would be too busy to
judge him. I ended up psychologically barricading myself into a
corner between being married
 to
 somebody
 I
 didn’t
 love,
 trying
 to
 
hold onto children I did love, trying to reach out to a son that was

352

mine, trying to figure out what the impact would be if I separated
you
 from
 your
 brothers
 who
 were
 my
 brother’s
 children,
 and
 
holding up a social image that would have surprised any of my so-
called friends to know that I had the skeletons I did. I have more
issues
 than
 National
 Geographic.
 I
 couldn’t
 trust
 people,
 and
 they
 
for
 damn
 sure
 couldn’t
 trust
 me.
 When
 I
 told
 my
 ex-wife that I
couldn’t
 live
 like
 that
 anymore,
 she
 didn’t
 take
 me
 seriously.
 
People
 are
 resistant
 to
 change,
 even
 if
 it’s
 a
 change
 from
 something
 
that’s
 killin’
 em.”

“Tell
 me
 about
 it.”

“Yeah,
 Sheila
 told
 me
 about
 Vanessa
 and
 all
 of
 the
 ups
 and
 
downs.
 I’m
 not
 sure
 if
 you know this, but Vanessa is more like your
mother
 than
 she
 would
 like
 to
 admit.”

“Think
 so?”

“Familiarity
 breeds
 contempt.
 Have
 you
 ever
 heard
 somebody
 
say they would not want to be with anybody who would date
somebody
 like
 them?
 That’s
 what
 a
 lot
 of
 that
 was
 or
 is
 about.”

“I
 think
 it’s
 about
 over
 now.”

“I’m
 hoping
 so.
 Everybody
 seems
 to
 be
 growing
 and
 
progressing.”

“What
 about
 you?
 I
 mean,
 you…and
 everybody
 else
 in
 your
 life.
 
You
 mentioned
 you
 had
 other
 kids.”

“Yeah.
 I
 got
 exactly
 what
 I
 made.”

I
 didn’t
 know
 what
 he
 meant
 by
 that
 and
 I
 almost
 didn’t
 want
 to
 
go
 into
 it,
 but
 I
 didn’t
 have
 to
 ask
 because
 he
 volunteered.

He
 pulled
 pictures
 out
 of
 his
 wallet
 and
 showed
 me.
 “See,
 this
 is
 
Valerie when she was little, and this is her about two years ago.
This
 is
 Auburn,
 her
 little
 girl
 and…”

I looked at the pictures. The little girl, Auburn, looked mixed.
She had curly, reddish-brown hair, green eyes, and freckles. I
asked,
 “Is
 Auburn
 biracial?”

353

The smile on his face looked like it weighed two hundred
pounds and was barely being held on by a thumb tack and a piece
of dental floss stretched across the back. He bunched his smile in
the
 corner
 of
 his
 mouth
 and
 answered,
 “Yeah,
 Valerie
 is
 interested
in everything but black men. Auburn has had one-eighth of a daddy
and seven mommy partners in the last four or so years. It makes
me sick to think of it sometimes, but Auburn is my heart. And, this
is
 Mikey.
 I
 wouldn’t
 be
 surprised
 to
 see
 him
 on
 Jerry
 Springer or
something.”

“Why
 would
 you
 say
 something
 like
 that?”

“Mikey
 seems
 to
 be
 a
 magnet
 for
 dysfunctional
 shit.
 Wild
 
women,
 he’ll
 take
 any
 pill
 you
 give
 him,
 and
 he’ll
 try
 to
 do
 anything
 
you’ve
 seen
 on
 any
 movie.
 Lately
 he’s
 impressed
 with the Rock and
Vin
 Diesel
 movies.
 He’s
 black
 but
 looks
 Mulatto,
 and
 somebody
 told
 
him
 he
 could
 be
 a
 movie
 star,
 so
 now
 he’s
 put
 a
 bunch
 of
 stickers
 
and
 stuff
 on
 his
 car,
 fat
 wheels,
 and
 ground
 effects.
 I
 don’t
 know
 
what
 to
 say
 sometimes.”

“Why
 do
 you
 feel
 like
 you
 have
 to
 say
 anything?”

He
 snickered
 and
 said,
 “Look
 at
 my
 life.
 Work
 is
 a
 hideaway.
 
People
 think
 I’m
 so
 driven
 and
 successful.
 Shit,
 I’m
 trying
 to
 get
 
away as fast as I can. I told my ex-wife that I was thinking about
changing careers and she might have to get a job to support the
lifestyle
 she
 was
 used
 to.”

“And?”

“And
 that
 was
 twelve
 years
 ago.
 She
 ran
 out
 of
 the
 house
 like
 
somebody lit the place on fire. She was down at Harris County
Courthouse filing for divorce the very next
 day.”

“You’re
 joking,
 right?”

“Shit,
 do
 it
 look
 like
 I’m
 joking?
 The
 very
 next
 day.
 I
 think
 the
 
only reason it took her that long was because it was about 3:45
when
 I
 told
 her
 and
 she
 couldn’t
 get
 down
 there
 before
 they
 closed
 
up. But you can bet that she was down there first thing in the
morning. The only thing that kept her from taking me to the
cleaners was the fact that I hired an investigator to find out that

354

she had been hiding money in a secret account and having an
affair. The judge was pissed off that she was untruthful about her
finances and told her that she hoped she had saved enough to last
her
 for
 a
 while
 because
 that’s
 all
 she
 was
 granted,
 plus
 her
 name
 
back.
 August
 ’92
 was
 a
 pivotal
 month
 for
 us
 both.”

He really caught my attention with that comment. There was
only
 one
 thing
 that
 August
 ’92
 brought
 back
 to
 mind—me
attempting
 suicide.
 I
 asked,
 “Who
 told
 you
 about
 that?”

“Melvin
 used
 it
 as
 a
 weapon
 against
 me.
 He
 and
 I
 got
 into
 an
 
argument. He always claimed that I never
 did
 enough
 to
 help
 him.”

“Help
 him
 do
 what?”

“Be
 successful
 is
 what
 he
 would
 have
 wanted
 to
 argue,
 but
 I
 
never
 heard
 any
 of
 that
 bullshit.
 People
 say,
 ‘Oh
 Michael,
 you’re
 so
 
smart,
 you’re
 brilliant,’
 all
 the
 rest
 of
 that
 bullshit.
 The
 fact is that I
went to public elementary school, public high school, and I was a B
and
 C
 student
 in
 college.
 Have
 you
 ever
 been
 to
 Cleveland,
 Ohio?”

“No.”

“Well,
 my
 mother
 moved
 us
 from
 Cleveland/
 we
 lived
 in
 the
 
hood. Up north, the hood is different
 from
 down
 here.
 Y’all
 don’t
 
know
 ‘hood’
 like
 I
 know
 hood.
 Melvin’s
 life
 was
 a
 matter
 of
 his
 
choices. Nobody ever said he had to compete, and I felt guilty for a
lot of the things he did for a long time. People will use the crutches
that
 work.”

I got very silent because he seemed to be revisiting a topic that
was
 very
 sensitive
 to
 me.
 I
 wondered
 if
 he
 knew
 about…but
 then
 I
 
thought, I’m
 sure
 he
 does. Then the look on my face must have told
it.
 he
 said,
 “I’m
 not
 going
 to
 lay
 this
 on
 ‘it’s
 God’s
 will’
 like most
people will try to do, but I will say that your brothers were not
taken from this earth without having fulfilled the purpose they
were put here for. Life and death are a natural cycle, and
everybody
 can’t
 live
 forever.
 No
 matter
 what
 you
 do,
 you
 can’t
 rush
 
or
 prolong
 what
 is
 divinely
 planned,
 Eric.
 You
 know
 what’s
 sick?
 
People trying to pass judgment on one another. We might not like
what
 everybody
 does,
 but
 it
 is
 part
 of
 life…”

355

The garage door that led to the hallway to the kitchen creaked
and I saw Phillip sitting there in his wheelchair, listening. I turned,
and my diversion of attention made Michael look as well. Phillip
said,
 “He’s
 right,
 Eric.
 You,
 I,
 and
 he
 are
 all
 where
 our
 actions
 and
 
decisions in life have led us to be. Whatever we do
 or
 don’t
 do
 in
 
the
 future
 will
 make
 us
 who
 we
 are,
 then.”

Auntie
 Fay
 walked
 up
 behind
 Phillip
 and
 asked,
 “Well,
 can
 we
 
be
 ready
 to
 go
 to
 a
 baseball
 game
 in
 less
 than
 an
 hour?”
 She
 was
 
right. I did need to get there and get all the stuff set up. I had my
grill, the coolers and lawn chairs, and all the other things, and that
was just for before the game. After I dry packed everything, I had to
take it down and pack it again with all of the frozen and perishable
items. I had bought the big grill; the other guy had the little one.
Plus, I had family with us to celebrate. Oh, then I almost forgot to
go upstairs and get all the caps, t-shirts, and other spirit items. I
had a big box of stuff and when I handed it out, I felt like a summer
Santa Claus. I almost got one-upped by Maritsa, who had sewn a
little
 purple
 and
 white
 cheerleader’s
 outfit
 for
 Makayla
 and
 I
 hated
 
to—but had to—admit that she looked sooooo cut. I was surprised
that
 Florence
 didn’t
 act
 up.
 Jackie
 seemed
 to
 like
 Makayla
 and
 
played with her
 all
 day.
 Even
 Bev’s
 presence
 was
 a
 positive
 
addition to the entire dynamic. I overheard Vanessa and Bev
talking
 in
 the
 front
 room.
 Vanessa
 asked
 her,
 “So
 what
 really
 went
 
on?”

Bev
 said
 confidently,
 “Nothing.
 I
 tried,
 but
 nothing.”

I
 wouldn’t
 find out until later that Sheila was listening to their
little conversation as well from the other side of the room.

I excused myself to get dressed in my proud
daddy/coach/commentator uniform. I had bought enough t-shirts
for Michael to have one, too, but when I came back downstairs, I
felt like something was wrong. I looked at Sheila and she looked
back
 at
 me.
 I
 wasn’t
 sure
 if
 she
 knew
 what
 I
 was
 thinking,
 but
 I
 
knew she knew that I was thinking about something significant. I
took my jersey off and gave it to Michael. Anthony smiled real big,
and that made me feel even better. Auntie Fay and Mama
approved,
 and
 I
 even
 got
 a
 compliment
 from
 Ms.
 Miller.
 I
 didn’t
 
know if life could get any better.

356

We all headed out to the baseball diamond, and to my surprise,
there were even a few parents who had shown up a little earlier
than we had. I was feeling kind of funky about that, but at least I
had the grill and all the other things that nobody else had. I sat all
my stuff outside the truck, and my father and I set it up. Ms. Miller
and Jackie were very protective over Phillip. They were worried
about
 his
 skin
 burning
 because
 he
 wasn’t
 normally
 exposed
 to
 the
 
sun that way. Makayla ran and jumped around and made up her
own little cheers. We were having a good time way before the
game started. People began to show up, and I felt the best feeling I
had ever felt outside of seeing Brian and Makayla being born.
Russell, Tat, and Aaron came with their families and people from
the ward. I had enough food to feed a squad of Army troopers. The
wives were talking and getting along, the kids were running
around playing and having fun, and then the star made his
entrance. Mr. Anthony crawled out of the truck where he was
taking a nap to rest up for the game. We all got the surprise of the
afternoon with Corintha came and brought Brandy. Oh, Anthony
was really fit to be tied then. He introduced Brandy to his
grandmothers. Auntie Fay greeted them, too, with her inspector’s
 
look on her face. Anthony ate it all up like he was Michael Jackson
or
 somebody,
 and
 his
 focus
 didn’t
 change
 until
 he
 saw
 the
 
Scorpions and their fans begin to show up. He immediately
changed to his game face when he saw Alvarez.

Tat asked me, “What’s
 wrong
 with
 Lil’
 Bingo,
 dawg?”

I
 answered,
 “That’s
 his
 nemesis.
 That’s
 Alvarez,
 the
 little
 
Mexican
 boy
 that
 put
 Anthony’s
 team
 out
 of
 the
 tournament
 last
 
year.
 He’s
 been
 on
 ESPN
 and
 a
 few
 other
 sports
 shows.
 He
 and
 
Anthony got a serious rivalry
 going
 on.”

Aaron
 overheard
 us
 and
 said,
 “He’s
 like
 you,
 man.
 You
 had
 a
 
rivalry going on with everybody but us. You used to be mean,
dawg.”

I
 defended,
 “No,
 I
 didn’t.
 I
 just
 wanted
 to
 win.”

Tat
 said,
 “Nawl,
 he
 told
 it
 right.
 You
 always
 been smart, but you
had
 a
 chip
 on
 your
 shoulder
 about
 shit.”

357

I
 couldn’t
 believe
 they
 were
 saying
 that.
 I
 asked,
 “A
 chip,
 for
 
real?”

Tat
 said,
 “Yeah,
 nigga,
 and
 I
 ain’t
 talking
 about
 a
 potato
 chip,
 
either. Know what, I can tell you this now because
 it’s
 overå
 and
 
done with. There was a gang of niggas that wanted to talk to
Vanessa
 back
 in
 the
 day,
 but
 they
 knew
 what
 kind
 o’
 shit
 was
 liable
 
to
 happen
 to
 they
 ass
 for
 trippin.’
 But
 it’s
 all
 good,
 dawg.
 Don’t
 trip
 
on
 it.
 It’s
 all
 a
 lesson.”

“I’m
 not
 sure
 if
 I
 want
 my
 son
 to
 learn
 some
 of
 my
 lessons,”
 I
 
said.

Aaron
 asked,
 “What?
 You’re
 trippin’
 for
 real.
 Anthony
 need
 to
 
learn
 all
 his
 lessons
 up
 front.
 He’ll
 be
 fine.
 How
 come
 you
 can’t
 just
 
watch a gotdamned baseball game? You got all your peeps out
here.
 It’s
 sunny.
 Oh,
 and
 guess
 what?
 We
 got
 that
 nigga.”

“What
 nigga?”

“That
 house
 nigga
 from
 work,”
 Aaron
 said.

“What
 happened?
 And
 why
 the
 hell
 didn’t
 y’all
 call
 me?”
 I
 asked.

Aaron
 said
 to
 Tat,
 “See,
 I
 told
 you
 he
 would say that. Ay Russell,
Russell…”
 He
 started
 motioning
 for
 Russell
 to
 come
 back
 by
 the
 
grill
 where
 we
 were.
 When
 he
 got
 there,
 Aaron
 asked,
 “What
 did
 
we
 say
 he
 was
 gon’
 say
 when
 he
 heard
 about
 the
 rundown
 on
 the
 
missing
 trailers?”

Russell explained, “Everything
 is
 not
 your
 responsibility.
 Give
 
somebody
 else
 a
 chance
 to
 do
 something.”

I
 stuttered,
 “But…”

Russell
 said,
 “But,
 my
 ass.
 Damn,
 boy.
 If
 you
 were
 bright
 enough
 
to
 bring
 in
 help,
 let
 ‘em
 do
 what
 you
 brought
 ‘em
 to
 do.
 That
 little
 
buck,
 Lionel.
 He’s
 on
 top
 of
 his
 business.
 He
 got
 close
 to
 McKnight
 
before we knew it. The fool was trying to recruit Lionel to help him
get
 the
 goods
 out
 the
 gate
 on
 the
 low.”

“Did
 you
 call
 the
 cops?”
 I
 asked.

358

They all looked at each other and laughed like I had lost my
mind. Nobody spoke. Michael interrupted the conversation before
I
 could
 get
 my
 answer.
 He
 said,
 “Anthony
 must
 be
 pretty
 good,
 
judging
 from
 the
 way
 everybody
 is
 interacting
 with
 him.”
 The
 look
 
on his face was innocent. Aaron and Tat had never seen Anthony
play.

They
 fell
 out
 laughing
 and
 asked,
 “Oh,
 God.
 Why
 did
 you
 ask
 him
 
that?”
 They
 drove
 me.

Aaron
 told
 Michael
 and
 Russell
 about
 me
 and
 a
 particular
 rival’s
 
feud.
 Aaron
 asked,
 “Did
 you
 tell
 them
 about
 Manhead?”

I answered,
 “Hell
 nawl.
 Why
 you
 gotta
 bring
 up
 that
 bullshit?
 
You
 always
 doing
 that
 shit,
 man.”

He
 asked,
 “Doin’
 what?”

Then
 Russell
 asked,
 “What’s
 Manhead?”

I
 pointed
 at
 him
 and
 said,
 “That,
 nigga.
 You
 know
 what
 you’re
 
doing.”

Tat told everybody because the ladies and Phillip had crowded
around the grill. I was standing there with my apron on, flipping
burgers and bratwurst, with a stupid look on my face. When
Vanessa
 got
 close
 enough
 to
 hear,
 she
 said,
 “Oh
 shit.
 They
 teasing
 
Bingo about
 Manhead.”
 She
 was
 looking
 like
 she
 wanted
 to
 giggle
 
and join in. of course, Mama, Auntie Fay, Sheila, and every damn
body else wanted to know what the big secret was. I decided to tell
it myself to keep any of them who knew from embellishing it too
much.

I
 said,
 “At
 DeSoto
 High,
 they
 had
 this
 little
 dude
 who
 was
 about
 
four feet three with this big ole granddaddy sized head on a little
skinny body. I underestimated him and he hit a couple of home
runs off me. He was the only person who consistently got a hit off
me.
 Now.
 Y’all
 happy?”

Aaron
 said,
 “Happy?
 Hell
 nawl,
 I
 ain’t
 happy.
 That
 ain’t
 how
 the
 
story
 went
 and
 you
 know
 it.”

359

Tat
 was
 cracking
 up.
 He
 asked,
 “
 ‘A,’
 he
 tried
 to
 fuck
 us
 right
 
now,
 didn’t
 he?
 That
 was
 a
 cold
 demo,
 Bingo.
 Look
 at you. Rubbing
a
 nigga
 on
 the
 back
 and
 talkin’
 all
 low
 and
 smooth.
 ‘Go
 ahead
 and
 
bend
 over.
 It
 won’t
 hurt.’
 Not!
 There
 will
 be
 no
 booty
 bandit
 action
 
here
 today,
 Bingo.”

Auntie Fay pinched Tat for cursing. She grabbed up a bunch of
his arm and twisted
 it.
 He
 squealed
 like
 a
 little
 boy
 and
 said,
 “Ow,
 
Auntie
 Fay.”

She
 said,
 “I’ve
 been
 telling
 you
 all
 about
 them
 nasty
 mouths
 for
 
years.
 There
 are
 children
 and
 old
 women
 around
 here.”

Tat rubbed his arm. I thought that was funny. Vanessa cleaned it
up;
 she
 turned
 to
 Sheila
 and
 asked,
 “Egomaniac
 didn’t
 even
 tell
 you
 
about
 Manhead,
 did
 he?”

Sheila
 shook
 her
 head
 curiously
 and
 answered,
 “Not
 that
 I
 
remember.”

Vanessa
 proceeded,
 “Oh
 well
 let
 me
 set
 the
 record
 straight.
 
Manhead owned Bingo. He put Bingo over the fence against the
Bingo
 Special.”

Michael
 asked,
 “What’s
 the
 Bingo
 Special?”

Tat, A-Plus, and Nessa all imitated my wind up as she narrated,
“He’s
 got
 this
 pitch
 and
 you
 know
 when
 he’s
 gonna
 throw
 it
 when
 
he does like this.
 Usually
 I
 didn’t
 know
 a
 lot
 about
 baseball;
 we
 just
 
all used to go because he was playing. But you know the special is
coming when he smiles like this, then he bends down a little
deeper
 in
 his
 wind
 up.
 Most
 people
 can’t
 pick
 it
 up,
 but
 Manhead
 
must have
 been
 able
 to.
 You
 should’ve
 seen
 it
 the
 first
 time.
 Bingo
 
threw
 it
 and
 click!
 Over
 the
 fence.”

Aaron
 said,
 “No,
 tell
 it
 right,
 Vanessa.
 The
 funny
 part
 was
 the
 
look
 on
 Bingo’s
 face.
 It
 was
 like
 he
 couldn’t
 believe
 somebody
 hit
 
his knockout pitch. It jacked up his mind. They ran through the
batting order, and Manhead did it again. Pop, over the left field
fence. And he had this stupid trot that looked like he was dragging
that
 big
 ole
 head
 around
 the
 bases
 taunting
 Bingo.”

Russell
 asked,
 “So
 how
 many
 times
 did
 he
 get
 a
 hit
 off
 you?”
360

I
 didn’t
 answer;
 Tat
 did.
 He
 said,
 “Every
 time.”

Aaron
 joked,
 “Oh,
 yeah,
 Manhead
 claimed
 Bingo
 on
 his
 taxes
 as
 
a
 dependent.”

They
 were
 just
 having
 a
 good
 ole
 time
 at
 my
 expense.
 “Who’s
 
hungry?”
 I
 finally asked.

Aaron
 said,
 “Don’t
 try
 to
 change
 the
 subject.
 Finish
 the
 story.”

Vanessa
 asked,
 “Florence,
 do
 you
 remember
 that
 time
 when
 we
 
were out at the flea market and Bingo got into a fight with that
little
 dude?
 That
 was
 Manhead.”

Florence added her little two cents into the Bingo roast and
said,
 “But
 that
 little
 boy
 looked
 like
 he
 was
 thirteen.”

I
 said,
 “Yeah,
 he
 had
 a
 man-size head and a big mouth, so I shut
him
 up.”

Auntie
 Fay
 asked,
 “Patrick,
 were
 you
 out
 in
 public
 acting like a
wild
 heathen?”

Florence
 and
 Vanessa
 both
 affirmed,
 “Yes!
 A
 wild
 heathen!”

Boy, I wanted to sock them both. Fortunately, everybody
laughed
 and
 thought
 it
 was
 a
 big
 joke.
 I
 didn’t
 know
 what
 else
 to
 
say
 but,
 “One
 o’
 these
 days,
 y’all.” They paid me no mind.

I was glad that the atmosphere was festive even if I was the butt
of
 their
 jokes,
 but
 the
 mood
 changed
 when
 I
 saw
 Anthony’s
 face.
 He
 
had put on his game face, and I knew it was time for me to put
away the toys and put my game face
 on,
 too.
 I
 asked
 Tat,
 “Hey,
 
dawg.
 Come
 take
 over
 the
 grill
 for
 me.”

He
 acted
 surprised
 and
 honored
 beyond
 belief
 and
 asked,
 “Me?
 
You
 mean
 you
 want
 me
 to
 take
 over
 the
 grill?
 Mr.
 ‘I’m
 in
 Charge’?”

“Yeah,
 man,
 here.
 Everybody
 talks
 about
 me
 not being able to
delegate.
 Well,
 here
 it’s
 all
 yours.”

“Don’t
 get
 all
 mad
 and
 run
 off,”
 he
 joked.

“I’m
 not
 mad.
 It’s
 almost
 game
 time,”
 I
 said
 to
 him.
361

We had lost track of time talking and tailgating, but now it was
game
 time.
 Anthony
 and
 Alvarez
 weren’t
 enemies,
 but
 they
 
definitely had a rivalry going on that they both took very seriously.
So many people thought it would be such a good idea if they were
on the same team, but I always felt it was a good idea not to run
away from competition under the premise of being on a good team.
Michael Jordan helped his team get better instead of going to an
established team and joining their party. Plus, Anthony’s
 buddies
 
played
 on
 the
 Panthers,
 and
 I
 don’t
 believe
 in
 deserting
 your
 
friends for seemingly greener pastures. I liked the way Anthony
took charge of the team. They all started warming up and
stretching and it seemed like the team followed his lead. I walked
around and tried to pep the team and motivate them to really get
hyped. I walked around clapping and rubbing shoulders to
jumpstart a level of morale that I thought should compel their
natural physical talent enough to help them win. Coach waved for
them to bring it in, and the game was about to start. My heart
fluttered more than it usually did.

362

Chapter 29

I
 had
 heard
 the
 umpire
 say
 ‘Play
 Ball!’
 millions
 of
 times
 before.
 I
 
was so excited about seeing Anthony play, but the real comment
that caught my attention and made me think almost to the point of
ignoring the game was when Russell talked about needing to be
around and surround myself with people who appreciated change.
I listened as he and Michael talked about how they had both been
forced to excommunicate people—even
 relatives
 who
 didn’t
 
appreciate change or support their development—from their lives.
Other conversations were going on. Michael described his ex-wife
as a butterfly with only one wing. I was paying attention, but then
all of the ladies and the fellas began to pay attention to that. He
talked about how supportive she wanted to be for all of his
endeavors but that when he wanted to help her accomplish her
goals, he found out that she was beautiful to look at from far away,
and she wanted to make sure people always looked at her and
stayed mesmerized so they never asked to see her fly. I knew
Vanessa
 thought
 it,
 but
 Florence
 asked,
 “Well
 if
 she
 was
 or
 is
 so
 
pretty,
 why
 didn’t
 she
 just
 try
 to
 model?”

Michael
 answered,
 “She
 did…”

Jackie
 interrupted
 him
 by
 saying,
 “Yeah,
 I
 can
 say
 it
 before
 he
 
does.
 Modeling
 takes
 work.
 People
 think
 it’s
 just
 going
 to
 have
 your
 
picture
 taken
 like
 it’s
 elementary
 school
 picture
 day,
 but
 it’s
 not.”

Bev
 even
 added,
 “Yeah,
 far
 from
 it.”

Russell
 said,
 “I
 know
 how
 you
 feel.
 Everybody
 expected
 Shirley
 
to hand over money when they heard she and I married and I
owned this business. She had to grow into knowing what it took
for my grandfather to establish the place, and as she did, so many
people acted like she had got all brand new. The Shirley they knew
was somebody they could make feel guilty, and she would run out
and do whatever they needed or asked for to help them feel better.
They were never concerned about what kind of effects her actions
would have on her home life or even her professional life. All they
cared about was what they wanted. Nobody is interested in you
changing when that will mean that you are not accessible to them.
And even on the flip side, if you are a person who has done
something
 that
 somebody
 can
 use
 as
 a
 crutch,
 they
 don’t
 want
 to
 

363

see you any different. They need you to be the bad guy. It might not
be a condemnation or a rejection of you, but just a rejection of the
circumstance they feel like they are in. people do what they feel
works or is functional for the moment, sometimes at the detriment
to
 the
 future.”

I wondered if Russell was being diplomatic and lightly
insinuating something about my relationship, or the lack thereof,
with Ms. Miller. She must have caught the comment too, because
she looked at me and when we made eye contact, she quickly
looked away. Auntie Fay and Mama saw it, too. Sheila rubbed my
jittering leg, so I knew she also saw it.

Russell
 continued,
 “Do
 you
 know
 what’s
 funny,
 funny like ironic
more so than funny humorous? We all know Eric from different
places or situations, and we feel different about those things.
Here’s
 his
 father,
 and
 out
 there
 is
 his
 son.
 Some
 of
 us
 are
 just
 
meeting one another, and some of you all have known or know of
each other for a long time. I think I have a very unique perspective.
I’m
 a
 man
 who
 never
 had
 my
 own
 children.
 I
 see
 you,
 Michael,
 who
 
may
 think
 that
 what
 you
 either
 did
 or
 didn’t
 do
 things
 right
 as
 far
 
as raising your children. And I can tell you
 that
 it’s
 on
 your
 skin,
 
brother. Your desire to feel accomplished in the relationships with
Eric is wearing like a jacket. And I know Eric. Tyrone and Aaron
introduced me to Bingo, and Ms. Dorothy has introduced me to
Patrick. We are all several different people in different situations,
and sometimes the hardest thing in the world to accept is
accepting someone for who they are, who they are not, or who they
might want to be, even and especially when that change seems
unpleasant
 to
 what
 we
 want.”

Anthony
 broke
 everybody’s
 concentration
 and
 focus
 on
 what
 
Russell
 was
 saying
 as
 he
 yelled,
 “Mom,
 did
 you
 bring
 the
 candy?”

Brandy was down at the dugout fence apologizing for not
remembering to bring candy. Anthony was a little disrespectful to
her because he totally ignored everything she had to say after that
and
 wanted
 to
 address
 Vanessa.
 Nessa’s
 eyes
 welled
 up
 with
 tears
 
as
 Anthony
 asked,
 “You
 forgot
 me,
 Mom?
 This
 is
 the
 day.
 How
 can
 
you
 forget
 me,
 Mom,
 ME?”
 He
 slammed
 his
 bat
 on
 the
 dirt;
 Mama
 
and Ms. Miller stood up at the same time.

364

Michael
 did
 something
 that
 I
 think
 was
 a
 very
 loving
 and
 ‘fatherly’
 
thing
 to
 do.
 He
 pulled
 me
 by
 the
 shoulder
 and
 said,
 “Come
 on.
 This
 
is
 a
 development
 issue.
 If
 I
 wasn’t
 around
 to
 see
 them
 and
 be
 
involved
 for
 you,
 I’ll be here for him and you. You have to stop him.
I can do it, but this is something that must come from you, to be
truly
 effective.
 Be
 stern,
 Eric.”

Everybody looked at me. I guess I really did have a reputation
for being a wimp of a disciplinarian where Anthony was
concerned. I had threatened to spank him or make him quit the
team, but he acted up liked that in my presence because he knew I
wouldn’t
 really
 do
 anything
 about
 it.
 He
 knew
 that
 as
 long
 as
 I
 was
 
around, I would not let Vanessa jump on him, either. I knew it was
burning Mama and especially Auntie Fay to see him acting up even
that little bit. I was very embarrassed, but I guess that was what I
needed. I walked down to the fence, and I was nervous as hell. It
was my own son at the fence, and I felt like I was going to war and
facing
 mortal
 combatants.
 I
 said,
 “Anthony,
 stop
 acting
 like
 the
 
world
 is
 lost.
 It’s
 candy.
 Just
 candy.
 Your
 talent
 is
 not
 a
 matter
 of
 
candy. You can bat without candy, and when the game is over, we
are going to really talk
 about
 your
 attitude.”

He
 looked
 at
 me
 like
 he
 was
 really
 disgusted
 and
 hadn’t
 heard
 
much or any of what I had said. He was on deck with a growled up
face and swinging his bat like he was chopping hay down with a
sickle. I had never spanked him before, but right then I wanted to.
Then I thought about it. I secretly felt ashamed of wanting to spank
my own son because in reality, I felt embarrassed more than I felt
like he was acting up. I knew why the candy was so important to
him, and I really felt wrong for not thinking to remember candy,
even
 if
 nobody
 else
 did.
 Anthony
 is
 my
 son
 as
 well
 as
 Vanessa’s,
 
and
 if
 she
 doesn’t
 do
 something
 for
 him,
 that
 still
 doesn’t
 exempt
 
me from my responsibility. The same goes for her. I got my ass up,
went to the truck, and got ready to drive to the closest store to get
him the candy. When I got to the truck, I saw the grill and
everything still in the trailer hitch and all the stuff out there and
attached.
 I
 ran
 back
 to
 the
 game
 and
 yelled
 to
 Sheila,
 “Baby,
 give
 
me your
 keys!”

“What’s
 wrong?”
 she
 asked.

365

“Sheila,
 just
 give
 me
 the
 keys,
 baby.”

Aaron and Tyrone looked like they thought something was
wrong.
 They
 got
 up
 and
 asked,
 “What’s
 up,
 Bingo?
 Somebody
 
trippin’?”

I
 didn’t
 answer.
 I
 just
 turned around and ran to the car. They
jumped down from the stands and followed quickly. By the time I
got the doors unlocked, they were at the car, too. They opened the
doors and got in. when we were all driving away, Aaron asked,
“What’s
 up,
 Bingo?
 Why
 you
 runnin’
 off?”

“I’m
 not.
 He
 needs
 candy.”

Tyrone
 asked,
 “What’s
 up
 with
 candy?
 They
 have
 candy
 at
 the
 
concession
 stand.”

“Not
 the
 Jolly
 Rancher
 penny
 candies.”

Aaron was sitting in the passenger seat. He took a deep breath
and held his hand over his mouth like he was physically trying to
restrain
 himself
 from
 saying
 something.
 He
 obviously
 couldn’t
 hold
 
off
 because
 he
 said,
 “Who
 put
 that
 weight
 on
 that
 little
 boy?”

I
 didn’t
 answer.

Aaron
 said,
 “This
 shit
 ain’t
 funny.
 I
 know
 what he wants the
candy
 for.
 Tat,
 you
 didn’t
 go
 to
 Bingo’s
 game
 against
 Polk
 back
 in
 
the eleventh grade. Anthony wants to do stuff like Bingo did it; I
see it all so clear now. He thinks it will make his mother and
father’s
 families
 stop
 fighting
 with
 each other and themselves. You
are
 so
 wrong
 for
 that,
 Bingo.
 I
 can
 tell
 you
 because…”

I
 defended,
 “I
 didn’t
 put
 that
 on
 him.
 He’s
 been
 listening
 to
 
Nessa’s
 dreamy
 tales.”

“But
 did
 you
 stop
 him?
 Shit,
 obviously
 not,
 because
 there
 he
 is
 
acting like he lost his gotdamned mind over a piece of candy, in
front
 of
 everybody
 he
 cares
 about.
 Drive
 faster,
 gotdammit!”

I
 didn’t
 say
 anything;
 I
 just
 drove.
 They
 were
 sick…I
 was sick.

366

Aaron
 asked
 calmly,
 “Bingo,
 I
 might
 not
 be
 the
 one
 to
 criticize,
 
but
 don’t
 you
 think
 it’s
 time
 to
 clean
 this
 bullshit
 up?
 I
 mean,
 not
 
just
 for
 you,
 but
 for
 us,
 too?”

Tyrone
 asked,
 “What
 cha
 planning,
 dawg?”

I looked in the rear view mirror and over at Aaron and said,
“We’ll
 never
 do
 anything
 good
 with
 that
 money
 if
 we
 try
 to
 hold
 on
 
to
 it
 for
 ourselves.”

I pulled up at a little convenience store, and we all went in. I
asked
 the
 lady,
 “Do
 you
 have
 the
 little
 Jolly
 Rancher
 penny
candies?”

She
 pointed
 to
 the
 floor
 and
 said,
 “Down
 on
 the
 bottom.”

Tat skipped over to the candy and grabbed the baskets from the
display
 shelves.
 He
 began
 walking
 away
 and
 the
 lady
 yelled,
 “Hey,
 
stop,
 thief!”

I
 asked
 her,
 “How
 much do you want for the candy and the
baskets?”
 She
 had
 a
 stupid
 look
 on
 her
 face,
 like
 I
 was
 joking.
 I
 
asked,
 “How
 much,
 lady?
 We’re
 in
 a
 hurry!”

Aaron pulled a couple of hundreds out, slammed then down on
the counter, grabbed me by the shoulder, and said,
 “Come
 on,
 don’t
 
sit
 there
 wasting
 time!”
 We
 got
 back
 into
 the
 car
 and
 I
 drove
 like
 a
 
car jacker. When we got back to the game, the Panthers were down
10-2
 in
 the
 fifth
 inning.
 I
 couldn’t
 believe
 we
 had
 been
 gone
 that
 
long.

“What
 did
 I
 miss?”
 I asked Sheila.

She
 sighed
 deeply
 and
 said,
 “Anthony
 is
 having
 a
 bad
 game.
 
They strung him for a couple of home runs, and it looks like the
rest
 of
 the
 team
 is
 losing
 faith
 in
 him.”

Tyrone and Aaron brought the candy. It was all mixed up, and
there
 weren’t
 very
 many
 lemon
 pieces.
 There
 was
 the
 more
 
popular flavors—green apple, grape, watermelon, and orange.
Vanessa was down at the fence with Florence and Jackie, trying to
cheer him on. I looked back and saw the looks on Auntie Fay and
Mama’s
 faces when they saw A and Tat with the racks. I said,

367

“Mama,
 would
 y’all
 search
 through
 there
 and
 find
 the
 lemon
 
candies
 for
 him?
 He
 won’t
 eat
 anything
 but
 the
 lemon.”

Auntie
 Fay
 said,
 “Honey,
 please.
 I
 don’t
 reward
 bad
 behavior
 
from insolent children. That
 boy
 is
 getting
 his
 tail
 beat
 later.”

I
 pleaded,
 “No,
 Auntie
 Fay.
 This
 is
 important.
 Please
 find
 the
 
lemon
 candies
 for
 me,
 please?”
 She
 rolled
 her
 eyes
 and
 snatched
 
one of the baskets from Tat. Mama and Ms. Miller each reached for
one.

I jumped
 down
 to
 go
 ask
 Vanessa,
 “What’s
 going
 on?”

She
 looked
 worried.
 She
 said,
 “Alvarez
 is
 all
 over
 Anthony’s
 
ass…”
 Anthony
 looked
 lethargic
 as
 he
 wound
 up.
 He
 didn’t
 even
 
respond to the pitch signal from the catcher. He just threw the ball
and pop! The boy from the Scorpions hit it halfway to Dallas. The
crowd screamed. Anthony hung his head as the runner on base and
the batter both scored. The score was 12-2 and there were no outs.
I
 looked
 over
 at
 Anthony’s
 coach.
 He
 was
 waving.
 Vanessa
 and
 
Jackie pulled
 me
 over
 to
 where
 the
 coach
 was
 and
 said,
 “He
 was
 
looking
 for
 you.”

When I got face to face with the coach through the fence, he
said,
 “He’s
 struggling.
 He
 thought
 you
 got
 upset
 and
 left.”

God, that hurt. I gritted my teeth. The muscles in my neck and
throat were straining as I fought to keep the tears and the big frog
in my throat down. I looked at Jackie and asked her to go to Mama
and
 get
 a
 piece
 of
 the
 candy.
 Nessa
 looked
 me
 and
 didn’t
 speak
 
initially.
 Then
 she
 said,
 “Thank
 you,
 Eric.”

“You
 don’t
 have
 to
 thank
 me,
 Nessa.”

“No,
 I
 do.
 For
 everything.
 I
 mean
 it.
 For
 Anthony.
 For
 the
 good
 
times and the bad. For growing up with me and even not growing
up
 with
 me.”
 Tears
 rolled
 down
 her
 face
 as
 Jackie
 came
 back
 with
 
the candy. I handed
 it
 to
 the
 coach
 and
 he
 looked
 at
 me
 like,
 ‘what
 
am
 I
 supposed
 to
 do
 with
 this?’
 I
 told
 him,
 “Tell
 him
 I’m
 over
 here
 
and
 I’m
 going
 to
 sit
 in
 the
 stands
 and
 be
 where
 he
 can
 see
 me
 until
 
they
 come
 in.
 Then
 I’ll
 be
 back
 here.”

The
 coach
 said,
 “They won’t
 let
 me
 go
 out
 and
 give
 this
 to
 him.”
368

Jackie
 said,
 “If
 you
 want
 to
 win,
 you’ll
 find
 a
 way.
 Winners
 find
 
ways
 to
 do
 things.”

The coach looked scared, but he called time to go out and speak
to Anthony. He played it off pretty well by handing the candy to
Anthony
 on
 the
 sly.
 I
 saw
 Anthony
 look
 around
 the
 coach’s
 
shoulder to see if I was there. I stood there with my fingers laced in
the fencing and my face as close as it could be. He saw me. Vanessa
and Jackie went back to their seats and helped look for lemon
candies in the baskets. Anthony had the candy in his mouth, but he
still
 didn’t
 look
 too
 good.
 He
 looked
 at
 me
 and
 looked
 at
 the
 
scoreboard, and I knew he felt bad about not being able to deliver
on the no-hitter. In my mind, I whispered, You can still win,
Anthony. I
 pointed
 to
 my
 tattoo.
 He
 looked
 surprised
 like
 he
 didn’t
 
know what I was trying to say. He threw the ball, and it was wide
right.
 The
 umpire
 screamed,
 “Ball!”

I pointed again and made a slight throwing motion to signal,
‘use
 the
 special.’
 He
 smiled,
 so
 I
 knew
 he
 got
 the
 message.
 I
 could
 
tell by the change in his posture. I was getting excited and
aggressively
 determined
 to
 make
 sure
 that
 my
 son
 didn’t
 walk
 
away from that or any other experience emotionally or spiritually
scarred if I could help it. He threw the special almost perfect and
caught
 the
 boy
 slipping.
 The
 umpire
 yelled,
 “Steeeee-rike!”

The Panthers fans cheered. Vanessa came back down from the
stands
 and
 was
 screaming
 and
 cheering,
 “My
 baby!
 You’re
 alright,
baby!
 Come
 on.
 We’re
 all
 here
 for
 ya’.
 Let’s
 go,
 Lil’
 Bingo,
 let’s
 go!”

That’s
 what
 he
 needed
 to
 hear.
 I
 learned
 that
 day
 that
 all
 
children need to be encouraged and supported. In that aspect, my
son was no different than me as a boy or any other child. He
needed both parents, family, extended family, community, and
friends to assist in his development. I as a man had failed to
cooperate with people to provide all of those things for him for so
long, but after that, I knew that I had to do it. I had to get along
with everybody, no matter how much it hurt. Anthony needed it,
and Brian and Makayla would need it as well as all the children in
our environment. I gave Anthony the signal for a high fast ball to
set up the special again. He nodded. He was feeling better; I was
feeling better.

369

Somebody grabbed my arm and it surprised me. I turned to see
my mother there handing me a piece of the candy with a big smile
on her face and tears in her eyes. I held my hand out, and she put
the candy in it and hugged me real big and tight. Damn, I needed
that. When I was hugging Mama, I looked up to see that Sheila was
looking at me with her hands in praying fashion up to her lips,
smiling. I knew that she had explained it all to Mama and sent her
with the candy. Just before I let Mama go, I saw Sheila blow me
kisses with both hands. I smiled back at her through my tears. I put
the candy in my mouth and rolled my sleeves up like I used to in
high school and turned my hat backwards. When I turned back
around to face Anthony, I saw that he had watched it all. He looked
like a new kid. The crowd was watching, and they lost their minds.
I gave Anthony the signal for fast ball, low, straight down. He saw
me. He wound up and cut it loose. Pow! Like he shot the ball out of
a
 missile
 loader,
 it
 came
 and
 snapped
 into
 Terrance’s
 glove.
 Dust
 
flew from the glove. Terrance stood up, pulled his hand out, and
wagged the ball in the air. Anthony was throwing heat. It was two
strikes and one ball. Terrance got back down and looked back at
me. He obviously figured out that I was calling the signals. Shit, the
umpire saw me, too. He looked back, and I knew I needed to stop
before they got disqualified. Terrance gave Anthony the high curve
signal and Anthony threw it. The boy went down swinging. The
umpire
 yelled,
 “Steeeee-rike
 three!”

I wanted to help him. It was so hard not to be up there coaching,
encouraging, helping my son, but I had to let him win it on his own.
I had to remain confident that I had prepared him to compete, and
if
 I
 hadn’t,
 then
 I
 would
 just
 have
 to
 do
 what
 a
 responsible
 parent
 
would do and help him recover and try again after this game was
over.
 Baseball
 isn’t
 the
 end
 of
 the
 world,
 but
 maybe
 a
 lot
 of
 parents
 
would benefit from watching children play sports and practice
their skills and responsibilities to pick children, even grown
children, up and help them get back on their feet when needed. It
doesn’t
 mean
 that
 they
 have
 to
 cheat,
 cripple,
 or
 carry
 the
 child.
 I
 
couldn’t
 stand
 there
 at
 the
 fence
 and
 call
 the
 whole
 game,
 but
 the
 
candy, the support, and energy, and everything I could do, was
done.

Anthony took the next two guys out, 1-2-3, outta there. The
Panthers ran into the dugout; Anthony immediately came to the

370

fence.
 I
 didn’t
 really
 know
 what
 to
 say.
 Vanessa
 came
 to
 the
 fence
 
with
 me.
 He
 asked,
 “What
 happened,
 Daddy?
 Where
 did
 you
 go?”

“I
 went
 to
 get
 the
 candy.”
 I
 wanted
 him
 to
 know
 that
 I
 wasn’t
 going
 
to do him like people had done me. When it was clearly known that
I
 was
 in
 need,
 I
 didn’t
 turn
 a
 blind
 eye
 and
 act
 liked
 things
 would
 
work
 out.
 Things
 don’t
 work
 out
 by
 themselves. Things, no matter
if
 it’s
 everything
 or
 anything
 or
 sometimes
 nothing,
 works
 out
 until
 
we do whatever it takes to work them out. When life is left to
chance, the only result will be disappointment. Even when people
are confident in their abilities and extraneous forces influence the
outcome of their endeavors, there can and will be something to do
that will ensure success. The question is if a person is in trouble, do
the people who love him respond? If he calls out for help, will his
friends come to his aid in times of need? How many of us watch
ourselves and others drown in figurative ways while we stand on
the shores and justify it by claiming there is nothing we can do?
How
 sad
 are
 we
 when
 things
 that
 we
 don’t
 expect
 to
 happen,
 do
 
happen and then we find out that we could have done or not done
something
 to
 prevent
 it?
 Well,
 I
 wasn’t
 leaving
 my
 son
 out
 there
 for
 
anything, life and death included.

Anthony looked at Vanessa and apologized. She told him to put
his lips through the fence and kissed him.

I
 told
 him,
 “You
 got
 a
 long
 way
 to
 come
 back,
 but
 you
 can
 do
 it.”

He
 started
 pulling
 his
 jersey
 out
 of
 his
 pants
 and
 I
 asked,
 “What
 are
 
you
 doing?”

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled up his t-shirt to show us that
he had drawn a scar on his stomach that looked just like mine. He
looked at Vanessa and then at me and said in such a determined
way,
 “I
 want
 to
 be
 like
 you,
 Daddy.”

I
 broke
 into
 tears
 and
 told
 him,
 “No,
 you’re
 better
 than
 me,
 
Anthony. No matter what happens here today, I’m
 proud
 of
 you.
 I
 
love you. You can make me happy by just being a little boy and
having
 fun
 growing
 up.
 Son,
 I’ll
 take
 care
 of
 all
 the
 grown
 up
 stuff,
 
okay?”
 I
 whispered
 through
 my
 tears,
 “I’m
 sorry
 for
 allowing
 all
 of
 
that
 to
 fall
 on
 your
 shoulders.”

371

The coach started calling for Anthony to tell him to get ready to
bat. Damien and Josh had got on base. Anthony hurried to put his
shirt and jersey back and get his batting helmet. He was on deck
and Terrance was at bat. Alvarez caught Terrance slipping and
struck him out. He smiled at Anthony like he was taunting him.
Anthony looked back at me. I wiped my tears away with the back
of my hand and pointed to my temple to tell Anthony to think. He
dug in. Damien was at second and trying to get his lead-off to steal
third. Alvarez faked the pitch and threw to second. Damien barely
got back and tagged with his hand. Alvarez looked very confident.
Anthony dug in again. Josh and Damien both looked at Anthony
and they could see that he was ready for Alvarez this time. They
didn’t
 take
 their
 lead
 offs.
 Anthony
 waved
 and
 circled
 his
 bat
 
behind his head; Alvarez threw heat. It was a challenge to
Anthony’s
 manhood.
 No
 curve.
 No
 drop.
 No
 tricks.
 And
 Anthony
 
didn’t
 waste
 any
 time
 letting
 him
 know
 not
 to
 try
 him
 like
 that.
Slam! Anthony knocked the cover off the ball and it flew
somewhere way over the high right field fence. Damien and Josh
watched and jumped as they rounded the bases. Anthony stood
there for a second and looked Alvarez in the eyes before he jogged
around the bases. The crowd was losing their minds. He came back
to the dugout where everybody patted his head and his back. He
didn’t
 celebrate;
 he
 knew
 the
 game
 wasn’t
 over.
 I
 was
 happy
 as
 hell
 
and
 my
 tears
 dried
 to
 my
 face.
 The
 only
 person
 who
 wasn’t
 
cheerful in our little section was Brian. I think all the noise scared
him, but he calmed down when Mama held him. She put him over
her shoulder and walked with him. I saw her as she kept kissing
him and talking to him until he calmed down and fell asleep.

As I watched Anthony sit on the bench and wait as Corey stood
at bat, I looked up into the air. I remembered to thank God for all of
the good times and the bad times in my life. I wondered if I could
get Aaron and Tyrone to put all the money together and see if we
could get a community center built for the kids. Maybe we could
provide vocational programs and other facilities for the single
mothers and other things like that. Maybe I could get the brothers
at the meetings involved, too. On a personal note, I might even be
able to get into heaven one day. Maybe earn and appreciate the
soul I tried to give away. For whomever I had progressed to be at
that point, I was better. I had grown. I knew who cared about me.

372

My few friends had remained by my side. I had the beginnings of
loving relationships, and through the ups and downs, I was living.

373

I have heard that fixation on the past is the most significant
obstacle to contentment in the present. I thought that was such a
profound statement the first time I heard it and had waited for the
perfect opportunity to use it either in my own development, but
secretly to sound prophetic when speaking to somebody else. I
guess
 I
 hadn’t
 been
 on
 my
 toes,
 but
 I
 was
 caught
 by
 the
 same
 effect
 
when
 Vanessa’s
 slick
 ass
 said, “I
 don’t
 want
 to
 beat
 a
 dead
 horse,
 
but I guess we need to shoot all of these lame ones running
around.”
 Uhhhh!
 She
 makes
 me
 so
 sick.
 No,
 seriously,
 I
 love
 her.
 
The day ended pretty well when all things were considered.
Anthony pitched well and struck out many
 of
 the
 Scorpions’
 
batters, including Alvarez. He and his team caught up and in the
bottom of the ninth inning, they were down 14-13. Corey was up to
bat with two outs and the pressure was on to win with a home run,
strike out and lose, or get a base hit and let Anthony bat. He was a
good hitter and he looked very confident. Mama and everybody
kept talking and asking me questions. I wanted them all to shut up.
We were all so excited. Corey swung at the first pitched and fouled
it off for a strike, but he was still relaxed. In my mind, I was trying
to pray him up a base hit. I thought Alvarez wanted to strike him
out and end it, but when I really concentrated on his face, I knew
he
 didn’t
 want
 Corey
 out;
 he
 wanted
 Anthony
 out.
 The
 next
 pitch
 
proved my suspicion—it was a high ball. Alvarez never threw high
balls to the outside. He threw another pitch like that. Corey swung
at
 it
 but
 missed.
 Strike
 two.
 Alvarez
 looked
 at
 him
 like,
 ‘Why
 did
 
you
 swing
 at
 that?’
 The
 next
 pitch
 was
 thrown
 in
 the
 front
 dirt,
 
hard and heavy, on purpose. The ball bounced high off the
catcher’s
 glove
 and
 into
 the
 air.
 He
 lost
 sight
 of
 it
 and
 Corey
 swung
 
like he was Tiger Woods. It was strike three but the Panthers coach
yelled,
 “Run,
 Corey,
 run!”
 Corey
 remembered
 that
 he
 could
 still run
to the base if the last pitch was a strike, but the catcher had to
maintain control of it after he swung. He took off like a jack rabbit.

Anthony hopped up, grabbed his bat, and started swinging
again.
 He
 ran
 back
 to
 the
 fence
 and
 shouted,
 “Mom, I
 need
 candy.”

She
 didn’t
 have
 any
 more
 lemon
 pieces
 and
 I
 knew
 he
 would
 fall
 
apart.
 Nessa
 said,
 “Florence,
 give
 me
 the
 last
 piece.”

374

Florence looked like the cat with the canary feathers in her
mouth
 as
 she
 opened
 her
 mouth
 and
 said,
 “I
 didn’t think he was
going
 to
 bat.
 I
 just
 ate
 it.”

I
 knew
 Anthony
 wouldn’t
 want
 the
 candy
 out
 of
 her
 mouth.
 He
 
saw it. He looked up and tears burst from his eyes. He slammed the
bat
 down
 on
 the
 ground
 and
 screamed,
 “Gotdammit,
 Aunt
 
Florence!”

Mama and Auntie Fay, Maritsa, and Ms. Miller all had fits.
Vanessa was embarrassed and so was I. I stood to go chastise him,
but before I could get to the fence, Phillip pushed his chair up to
the
 fence
 and
 yelled,
 “Anthony!
 Go
 bat
 and
 stop
 acting
 like
 a
 baby.
 
It’s a baseball game, and it will not determine the rest of your life
or
 our
 lives.”
 Vanessa
 and
 I
 looked
 at
 each
 other.
 Hearing
 that
 
made
 me
 feel
 funny
 and
 I’m
 sure
 it
 made
 her
 feel
 funny
 as
 well.
 We
 
were all silent for about a second that seemed like ten minutes.
The
 umpire
 yelled,
 “Batter
 up!”

Phillip
 said,
 “Go
 on!
 You
 got
 us
 all
 out
 here!”

Anthony looked up at us and turned away with a determined
look
 on
 his
 face.
 He
 trotted
 to
 the
 batter’s
 box
 and
 the
 crowd
 got
 
up. Vanessa really lost her mind screaming,
 “Alright,
 Lil’
 Bingo,
 be
 
good
 to
 Mama,
 Baby.
 You
 can
 do
 it!”
 Florence
 and
 Jackie
 and
 
everybody else was yelling and cheering. Mama held Brian tight in
one
 arm
 and
 Makayla’s
 hand
 in
 the
 other
 as
 she
 clinched
 her
 eyes
 
tight to pray. I would have given my left hand to know what she
was saying to God. I was about to fall to pieces from anxiety.

Anthony dug in. Alvarez scowled. This was exactly how both of
them wanted it to be. Corey led off of first. Alvarez got his signal. It
was his fast ball signal. I had seen it, and I wondered if Anthony
had
 been
 paying
 attention,
 but
 I
 couldn’t
 see
 his
 face
 so
 I
 didn’t
 
know. Corey kept scooting inch by inch to try to get the jump on
the base. Alvarez wound up and pyune, Corey took off. Alvarez
couldn’t
 catch his pitch fast enough and I think he and Anthony
were a little thrown off by Corey running. Anthony swung at the
dead duck that Alvarez threw and it fouled off. Corey slid head-first
into second. When he got up, his chest was all red from the dirt. He
was spitting the dust out of his mouth, but he was smiling back at
Anthony. He was in scoring position, and it took some of the

375

pressure off Anthony to go out and try to hit a home run. The count
was 0-1. Alvarez was upset. He looked back at Corey.

I was
 sure
 Alvarez’s
 family
 was
 praying
 for
 him
 and
 so
 many
 
other people were trying to gain all the spiritual advantage they
could get for their team, but I prayed silently. I asked God to please
be merciful and benevolent with my son and allow him the
strength
 and
 confidence
 to
 get
 a
 base
 hit
 so
 even
 if
 he
 couldn’t
 win
 
it,
 he
 didn’t
 fall
 into
 the
 dumps.
 I
 knew
 that
 somebody
 had
 to
 lose.
 I
 
was
 sure
 that
 other
 players’
 people
 would
 pray
 for
 something
 
similar for their children. Nobody wants to see their child in pain.
Oddly
 enough,
 I
 didn’t
 compare
 Anthony’s
 present
 to
 my
 past,
 and
 
I
 didn’t
 feel
 so
 emotionally
 injured
 or
 scarred
 anymore;
 I
 felt
 fully
 
recovered. I would have given anything for him to know that at
that minute. For whatever his dreams could have been for doing
anything to help me be better, he had accomplished it whether he
hit, struck out, or did nothing at all. I was in the spiritual zone of
my
 own
 emotions
 when
 I
 heard,
 ‘click.’
 I
 looked
 for
 the
 ball
 but
 
couldn’t
 see
 where
 it
 went.
 The
 sun
 glared and blinded me. Birds
flew across the sky. Everybody cheered. Anthony turned around to
see me. Something came over me, and it was the best feeling ever. I
had my soul back or maybe it just took me all my life to know how
to find it and know how valuable it was to me. Either way, I could
finally be a man because for once, I understood what it took to be
true to myself and be a person first. After Anthony looked at me, I
looked at my mother. Anthony saw it and we all watched the ball
fall over the far center field fence.

376

377