The revolution has always been in the hands of the young. The young always inherit the revolution."
My Pops was in the Army. I guess that's something to be proud of, but Ma didn't like it much. He went on the weekends but there was always that chance he might get called up. He would always say "It's a volunteer type thing, don't stress it." That kept us going for a few years, then Tayler was born. I remember it like it was yesterday, My father sat me and my brother Anthony down. I never really paid much attention to things as a kid, but I do remember Ma was crying a lot that day. Pops smiled at us and rubbed my head before he let the words out, "Dad's gotta take a trip, for a few months." Anthony leaned forward, he wanted to know what was going on, he felt something was going on. I knew and I cried. I remember four moments when my life changed:
The first was my father telling us he was deploying.
The second was my mother telling us Pops was killed in action.
The third moment, happened 12 years later...
I acted out a lot, couldn't get the grades that Ma wanted, so I dropped out of school. She didn't like it, but it kept her from working three jobs. Whenever I came home with that check from the gym, she would take it and softly say, "I wish you didn't have to do this, Drew." I didn't mind it. The Army paid us some money but because my Pops wasn't up to date on his paperwork, half of it went to my grandma. I've never seen the woman and she didn't come to Pops' funeral.
The money helped a little, but three boys is a lot to pay for, it didn't last. Like I said, I don't mind it. I'm always working out at the Gym anyway, so my trainer got me a job. I clean the ring and the lockers, which doesn't pay much but I don't have to pay for lessons. I was leaving the gym when I heard it, "You're that fighter, right?" Her voice was sweet, with a body that was even sweeter, but if I had the power to tell the future, I'd know she wasn't worth it. I don't even remember her name, to be honest.
First we were talking, and then there was a little less talking. We were in an alley behind the gym, and I had one hand up her skirt when I saw him from the corner of my eye, smiling from ear to ear. I closed my eyes and groaned, "What do you want, Tay?"
The little man laughed at me and said, "A turn if we're being honest."
"Excuse me!" My good time shouted.
I did a little smooth talking or most likely a little ass kissing to save the night and then I dragged the little man out the alley by his hoodie, "What the hell do you want Tay!"
He jumped a little, "I was seeing if you wanted to walk home together," he said.
My hand went over my face and I shook my head, "Does it look like I want to go home right now?"
Tay got on his tippy toes to look over my shoulder at the girl. Her back was pressed against the wall. Her bra was unlatched and her patience was getting thin.
"Whatever, I'm gonna tell Ma when I get home." Tay said.
I nodded, "I bet you will. Get your snitching ass home before the streetlights come on." He was down the street before the last of my words left my mouth.
"That your brother?" She asked and I nodded, "He got a mouth on him." She said softly.
I laughed as I leaned in and kissed her "Yeah, well so do I." I said.
We did our thing and I was back home around eleven. As soon as I pushed the door open, Ma was there waiting, "Where the hell you been?" She was half dressed for her shift at the hospital, I wasn't sure if that meant she was coming or going.
"Out, Mama. Damn, I can't go to work and come home every day. Can I live?" I asked. Anthony was lying on the couch, so I pushed his feet to the side almost tossing him out the seat, "Move man!" I shouted.
Anthony sat up, "Damn, why didn't you stay your big headed ass at the gym?"
I was about to toss him to the floor and choke out an apology, but then Ma closed the door slowly and asked me a question that still sends chills through me, "Drew, Where's Tay?"
I turned to look at her and then looked around, "He's not here?" I asked.
Her hands rested on her hips, "I thought he was coming home with you. He said he was gonna stop by the gym after wrestling practice," She said.
"He came by the gym, but I told him to head home," I said and my Mama came across the room so fast, I thought I was in a horror movie. That kind of speed only comes from being possessed.
Her hand slapped into the back of my head, "You let him walk alone!" she screamed.
I put my hands up trying to protect myself, "It's only a few blocks, Ma!"
We were going back and forth. Ma was panicking and screaming. I was trying to defend any sensitive area from her onslaught. She picked up the phone to call the cops when Anthony turned up the tv, Ma screamed at him to turn it down but he was in a trance. Eyes wide. Lips tightened and his finger pointing at the tv. The tears started to come before we knew fully what was happening.
The cops said he had a gun.
He was gonna be 13 in a few months. He was excited about that, told me he was gonna be a man. I stared at Thad blood stained white sheet that covered his little body. They left him in the street for the world to see. Anthony knew it was him from his sneakers, they were spray painted purple, for the school colors.
I remember we kept shouting,"no!"
"That's not him-" Then there was a loud set of knocks at our door and we knew there was no more denying it. For weeks, the News said some cold stuff about the little man. He was running with a gang... the kid had wrestling gear, books and Pokémon cards in his bag. Last I checked gangbangers weren't playing with Pokeballs. Cops said he fit the description of a suspect... young and black. It was the words of two white cops against a dead little black boy. The worst thing was that photo.
The bloody white sheet over his little body, in the middle of the street. It became the logo for the case. No one would talk about the shooting without showing it. It got to a point where I couldn't even think of Tay without that popping in my head first.
I went crazy after that, I'm sure we all did. I lost my job at the Gym because I kept getting into it with the fighters. I started drinking and smoking from sunset to sunrise, and sometimes beyond that. I was going off the deep end, and it wasn't what my Ma needed, but it was what I needed. I was angry and I wanted someone to hurt, like I was hurting.
Our lawyer was pricey but he said he would do it for free. He told us we could win and then slowly his tune started changing. He said the cops would get off but we still had a good case against the city.
We didn't care about money. Money didn't buy justice. Money couldn't bring Tay back. It was nothing more than dirty green paper everyone wanted to toss at us, so we could wipe our tears and move on. We wanted justice, but I was sure the courts weren't gonna give it to us, so I went out to find my own.
I was walking up and down the street every night. I said I was looking for the right one, but I was just talking myself out of it most nights. Then after a few shots of Henny, there I was, standing behind him. He had just come out of his apartment building. He was walking toward his car with his phone glued to his ear. "Yeah, I'll be there in a few. Don't start the party without me," he said. He was happy, and I could smell the vodka coming off of him as he started to fumble with his keys.
I pulled out the gun and placed it to the back of his head, "Get on the fucking ground." I said.
His hands shot up, "What the fuck man... take it easy... you want money? Is that it? You need some cash?" he cried.
Another one trying to send me away with a few dead presidents. I pushed the gun forward till the barrel thumped him in the back of the head, "I said, get the fuck on the ground, white boy! I'm not gonna say it again!" I shouted and he quickly dropped down to the sidewalk, his face pressed to the ground. His warm tears mixed in with the cool concrete.
He didn't have anything to do with anything.
But he was white and at that moment, that was all that mattered to me.
I started stomping down on him. First his lower back. I felt my heel cave in his back. All the while he screamed, "Help me!" His ribs cracked as I slammed my steel toes into his side. He was fighting to get back to his feet or get away, but I bashed the handle of the gun into the top of his head and he dropped back to the ground. I picked my boot up again to bring it down into his skull when I felt someone grab me, pulling me back.
"Get the fuck off me!" I spun around with the gun pointed. Anthony was staring at me, "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.
He rushed me, pushing me back into the car, "What are you doing?" he asked, then he looked down at the bloody mess that was groaning on the sidewalk. I didn't see him as a person, just a punching bag for me to release my rage onto. Anthony saw him as a person and a life sentence for his older brother. I looked down at the guy and then back at my brother who grabbed me by the collar and softly let out, "Let's get the fuck out of here, Drew." He didn't wait for me, he just took off and for a second I thought about ignoring his request and finishing up but then I looked back at the man and all I could see was that bloody white sheet and those purple shoes and like a scared little boy, I ran from it.
We were blocks away when I finally let the words out, "You following me now?" I asked.
I don't know what that did to him, but he grabbed me and tossed me into a nearby alley. I could see in his eyes he wanted to take a shot at me. He wanted to fight, but I wasn't nearly drunk enough for him to take me. I fought for a living. After Pop died, all I did was fight. It was my lifestyle. Anthony wasn't a fighter and he wasn't stupid, "What the hell were you thinking? What the fuck was that!" he shouted at me.
I attempted to walk away, but he pushed me back into the wall, "You're not gonna keep pushing up on me like that, Anthony." I said.
He shook his head, "You think this is gonna bring Tay back?" He asked.
Before I knew it I had Anthony pressed up against the wall, "Don't you fucking talk about him." I said.
Anthony stared at me, "I miss him too... I miss him so fucking bad." He said. I watched as a tear fell from his eye and they were calling out to my own.
"I did this to him," I said it out loud, for the first time ever I said it out loud. I blamed myself, I could have helped him or they could have shot me instead. Every morning I wake up, I lie in bed wishing they did shoot me.
"It's not your fault," Anthony said as I let his feet finally hit the ground. "You didn't do this, they did." He said.
I nodded, "Yeah, and they're getting away with it."
Anthony shook his head, "No, they won't. In a few months we'll go to court and-"
I took a step back and cleared the tears from my eyes before I started laughing, "And what, Anthony! We get justice?" I shook my head laughing, "There's no justice for people like us! They don't care about us!" I shouted and kicked over a nearby trash can, the metal banging into the ground, filled up the alleyway. "You look in the mirror lately? You seen your skin color?" I shook my head as I said, "People like us, we don't get justice."
"You don't know what you're talking about," He said.
I ran up to him, till we were face to face. The smell of alcohol had to have overtaken him because it was all I could smell as I softly said, "We are gonna walk into that courtroom, with their white judge, and their white jury and watch those cops get off. That's the only thing that's gonna happen in that courtroom."
Anthony turned his head to the side and then he nodded, "So, fuck court then? Huh?" He nodded and laughed, "Let's just get fucked up and beat on some random white boys," he said.
"I'm teaching them a lesson," I said and he stopped laughing.
Anthony's hands went over his face and he took a long sigh. My little brother was trying to hold the family together these days. He was working part-time and going to school. Meeting and calling the lawyer. He was making sure Mama ate and took her pills. She wasn't in a good place these days, and he was looking out for her, and for me, "No, what you're doing is giving Mama another son to cry over. What you think is gonna happen to you if you keep this up? Your ass is gonna get locked the fuck up, or killed. Then they're gonna have your photo all over the news like Tay." I went to rush him again but he took a quick jab at me, right into my jaw. It sent me to the ground fast. I didn't see it coming, that's how Anthony was, always getting you when you weren't looking. I looked up at him and spit blood onto the ground. He put his hand out, "This shit, isn't helping anyone. Let's go home." I stared at his fingers for a moment and then I took his hand and he pulled me up.
"It's never gonna change, is it, Anthony? They're never gonna care about us." I said softly and my brother guided me through the darkness of that alleyway.
It had been a year since Tay's shooting and I was finally pulling myself together. I wasn't looking for fights in the streets anymore, I was doing my fighting in the ring now. Anthony had me beg my boss at the gym for a tryout, and he liked what he saw. Said if I worked hard maybe he would take me to the U. S tryouts. All I saw was gold in my future, Mama was doing better too. The doctor said she just had a minor break, and with the meds and counseling she was going to be okay.
Anthony was on her every day, "You take your meds Mama?" it was like his thing, he didn't say hello, it was always, "You take your meds Mama?" But I couldn't be mad at him, all this shit was happening and he still held down the family and kept his grades up. Anthony had schools chasing after him, his teachers said he was some kind of chemistry genius or something.
"It won't start," Ma said as her fingers tightened around the wheel of the car.
"Is the battery dead?" I asked.
She shrugged, "The hell if I know," She said and then turned her head to me, "Go check."
I looked over at Anthony in the front seat next to her, "Ma, why I gotta do it?" I asked.
She turned around slowly, "Cause I told your ass to, " She said.
I pushed open the door and made my way toward the front of the car, "Pop the hood." I shouted.
I heard back, "Don't you yell at me, boy!" I rolled my eyes and heard the metal click, I lifted the hood and laughed, "Is the battery leaking?" My Ma asked.
I shook my head walking over to the driver side. I leaned on the door and sighed, "Someone stole the battery," I thought it was funny, but the tears slowly started to build up in her eyes. She pushed the door open and I slowly stepped aside "You alright Ma?" I asked.
"I can't do this today. Not today" She said.
The officers that shot Tay were finally being tried in court today, the car was busted and the lawyer said we didn't have to be there if we didn't want to. So, we stayed home. We didn't want to see them cheering and smiling as they got off for killing my little brother. I knew it was gonna happen, it always happens. Anthony was sitting on the couch with the news on, they were covering the trial, all the reporters were camped out on the steps of the courthouse waiting to hear the verdict. "Turn that off, Mama doesn't want to deal with that right now." I said.
Anthony kept his eyes on the tv, Mama came into the room, "You heard your brother, turn that mess off. I'm sick and tired of them pulling my baby's name through the mud and-" Mama's tears were cut off by a loud blast from the tv.
The picture shook and the blonde haired reporter ran out of the shot. There was a lot of screaming and then it cut to the people in the station "What was that?" I asked.
The news anchor on the tv put his finger to his ear and nodded, "There has been some kind of explosion at the courthouse..."
I sat down next to Anthony who was leaning forward staring at the tv. Mama put her hand over her chest, "Oh my god." She said.
"You think it was over Tay's case?" I asked.
Ma put her hand over her mouth, "You think?" She replied and then the phone started to ring. We all stared at one another as the robotic melody crawled through the halls and creeped into the living room. Ma shot up and ran to the back of the apartment. I sat there dumbfounded with the glow of the tv taking me over. Then I looked over at Anthony, he sat there for a while staring into the puzzled faces of the reporters and then he softly said, "You were wrong."
"Wrong about what?" I asked.
We were in a moment that didn't require words. A moment where pure silence would be accepted and understood but here he was talking and smirking, "You said people like us don't get justice," his head turned slightly and the faint glow of the TV made his skin shine, "But we do...we just have to take it."
I remember four moments when my life changed.
You already know the first three...
The fourth was when I realized I was nothing more than a punk kid in an alley trading words with a Revolutionary.
