Decision Time (4 page)

“I'm bossy, feisty, spunky and sometimes quarrelsome. It takes a certain kind of man to handle me.”

“Oh, yeah, and what type of man would that be?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest and shifting my weight to sit more comfortably. I wanted to know what type of dude could subdue a nutcase like her.

“A thug. A man who takes charge and is in command. A man who isn't afraid of anything or anyone. Someone completely different from you, obviously.” Lori pulled out her cat claws with her last comment.

“Oh, no, you didn't just call me a punk.” I chuckled. “You clearly don't know much about me at all.”

“Please! You look like you still need to sleep in your bedroom with your night-light on.” She smirked with unwavering conviction.

“Huh. That's a laugh. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover,” I said, defending myself.

“I can't help it. That's just the way I am. I can take one look at a person and immediately know if I'm going to be able to get along with them.”

“Well, it sounds as if you need to work on yourself some more.”

“Tell me something that I don't know. I've already come to the realization that I'm a masterpiece that's still being painted. Only those with a keen eye can really appreciate my beauty.”

“I hope heaven broke the mold when they made you,” I said, getting ready to leave. I couldn't deal with her conceited arrogance.

“Heaven probably did,” she answered vainly, completely ignoring my insult.

“Has anyone ever told you that you're crazy?” I asked.

“I hear it all the time, honey.” She tucked the mirror back in her pocketbook, then retrieved a fingernail file. “You know I don't want to be here, right?” Lori admitted as she buffed her nails.

“Neither do I. So I guess we do have one thing in common,” I said as I scratched my head.

Lori reached out and touched my hair. “You should go down to Dino's Barbershop and get a trim before your hair turns into a nappy Afro. I can't stand guys who are in to that retro thing. Leave the big Afros in the seventies, please.”

I began laughing out loud because I had noticed some guys were trying to bring that look back.

“There's this boy named Roland Gist at school who always tries to be a trendsetter with his hair. Last week he was wearing an Afro-shag-mullet.”

I broke into laughter. “Wow, that's funny.”

“Yeah, I've heard crazy stories about Roland…Both of his parents were sent to mental institutions. So in my opinion I don't think the brother is playing with a full deck of cards, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, as my grandmother would say, I catch your drift,” I said. “So what are the rest of the students at the school like?”

“Probably like any other school. You've got your nerds, your thugs, your freaks, the weed smokers, weirdos, popular people, jocks and beautiful people of the world like me.” Lori pointed to herself and smiled.

“Okay,” I said as I tried to process all of that.

“I'll tell you what. Since I sort of know you from my dad's neighborhood, I'll be nice and show you around. Just don't act like you and I are seeing each other on the sly because I've got a reputation to uphold.”

“Trust me, girlfriend. I am just not that into you,” I said, setting the record straight.

“Well, not yet anyway. But once you see me in one of my freakum dresses, you'll be drooling over me just like the rest of the boys at school,” she stated with confident cockiness. I laughed mockingly at her.

“Oh, my, don't you have an excessively high opinion of yourself? You're a little conceited, don't you think?” I said.

“No, I don't think I'm stuck-up. Why do guys always think a confident woman is a threat? Never mind. I really don't want to hear your answer. Anyway, moving on—I live three doors down in the blue house.” Lori reached into her purse, dropped the nail file and removed an ink
pen and a small writing pad. “Here is my phone number. Send me a text message once you've registered for all of your classes and we'll go from there.”

“Okay,” I answered as she ripped a page from the notepad and handed it to me.

I didn't plan on ever talking to Lori again because she was a little too over-the-top for me. Once I'd registered for school the next day I didn't bother sending her a text message because I was able to find my way around the school fairly easily. Although I will admit I did get lost once, but the teacher cut me some slack since I was new.

When the dismissal bell rang, I hustled to my assigned locker to grab my coat and my social studies book. The first class my guidance counselor gave me was social studies with Mr. Alexander. Lori was right. The guy loaded me up with homework on my very first day. I exited the school and located the school bus that would take me back home to my grandmother's house. Although the bus ride was pretty noisy it was uneventful. The bus let me off about a block away from my grandmother's house. As I walked home, I saw Lori getting out of an old, brown Chevy Caprice, shouting obscenities at some guy who was dropping her off. As she walked around the front end of the car, the male driver jumped out and grabbed her. He shoved her against the car and pointed an angry finger in her face.

“I'm Percy goddamn Jones and you're going to give me everything I've got coming to me!” Percy barked at her like a madman. I stopped on the sidewalk and gawked at them.

“You don't own me, fool! You're not my daddy. Now
take your damn hands off of me!” Lori didn't seem intimidated by Percy's harsh words.

“I'm not playing with your bony butt! Don't make me hurt you,” Percy warned. I decided it was time to keep on moving. Lori's dispute with her boyfriend was none of my business. As I continued on, I heard the pop of a closed fist hitting flesh. When I turned around I saw Lori's knees buckling beneath her. Percy grabbed her arm and shook her violently as he continued his angry rant.

“You don't play around with me like that! Do you understand what I'm saying?” Percy wasn't letting up.

“Help!” Lori shrieked. “Please somebody, help me!”

“Shut up! Before you make me really hurt you!” Percy slammed her body against the car.

“Wesley! Help me,” Lori shouted out to me. I turned back around to keep moving. I did not want to get involved in their squabble.

Percy turned and met my gaze. “Who is that? Is that your other man? Are you creeping around on me? Is that what the damn problem is?” Percy once again slammed Lori's body against the car.

“Wesley, please!” Lori called out once more.

“That weak punk isn't going to help you. He's not man enough to deal with a pimp like me,” Percy roared like a lion about to make a kill.

“Wesley, run down the street and get my grandmother. Please,” Lori begged as she tried to free herself from his clutches.

“Damn!” I said aloud as I dropped my duffel bag, turned around and made the fateful decision.

“Yo, man. Why don't you just let her go?” I said as I approached them.

“Why don't you mind your own damn business!” Percy glanced over his shoulder at me.

“You know it's not right to hit on girls, man. Just let her go,” I said, hoping I'd talk some sense into him.

“I'm telling you right now, dog. If you don't back the hell up and get out of my business, I'm going to—”

“Never mind, man. I'll just call the police.” I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket. No sooner had I put it up to my ear than Percy rushed over to me and slapped it out of my hand. He stood menacingly in front of me. Percy was mean and ugly with yellow teeth and bad breath. There was a scar below his left eye and a tattoo on his neck. He was bigger than me, taller than me and as aggressive as a wild pack of hyenas fighting over a fresh kill.

“I told you to move the hell on!” Percy shoved me so hard I almost fell.

“Don't push on me!” I shouted and shoved him back.

“Percy, stop it!” Lori tried to step in. “He doesn't know you. He's new around here. Just let it go!” Lori pleaded.

Percy swung at me, but I saw it coming and moved out of the way of his vicious swing. I immediately coiled my fingers into a tight fist and prepared to throw down.

“You don't want to fight me,” I said as I stood my ground, ready to defend myself.

“Too late now,” Percy said and unexpectedly rushed toward me, trying to knock me off balance and pin me down on my back. I countered his move by pushing down forcefully on the back of his head while simultaneously raising
my knee to meet his face. The impact made a loud thudding sound and stopped Percy cold in his tracks. He collapsed to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Blood began seeping down the back of his hands from his nostrils.

“Stay down, Percy!” I warned him to concede and bring our scuffle to an end.

“Wesley, run! Just run home right now!” Lori hollered.

“You were the one who was begging me for help and now you're telling me to run away?” I was ticked off that I'd even risked getting hurt for her in the first place.

“Wesley, come on! I'm going with you. I'm not defending him,” Lori said. Percy removed his hands from his face and looked at the blood on his hands. He then lightly touched his nose, which was swelling rapidly into some deformed shape.

“I think you broke my nose,” he said as he continued to gently touch it.

Lori tugged at my arm and pulled me away from Percy, who was just getting to his feet.

“I didn't mean to break your nose. I was just defending myself,” I explained. “Let me call for some help so you can get to a hospital,” I said, picking up my cell phone.

“I don't need any damn help from you!” Percy said angrily as he staggered over to his car. “This isn't over, boy! This isn't over by a long shot. You'd better pray that the devil gets to you before I do,” Percy threatened as I turned my back on him and hurriedly walked away with Lori.

 

“How are you feeling?” my dad had woken up and was now standing beside my bed.

“Where's Mom?” I asked.

“She's out in the waiting area. Do you want me to get her?”

“No, I don't want to deal with her right now. I don't want to deal with anything.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Dad asked.

“No,” I answered. “I still don't remember being shot.”

KEYSHA

It was
7:15 p.m. when I finally finished up my homework. As soon as I was done I did a Google search for hospitals in Indianapolis. Maya held true to her word and looked up a few hospitals for me during her study hall time. I called the places she found during my walk home from school, but none of them had a patient listed under Wesley's name. It was as hard as taking the SAT test when it came to trying to locate Wesley. I continually called his cellular phone, but all I got was his voice mail and I'd left a ton of those. Determined to go see about my man, I feverishly wrote down the names and phone numbers of hospitals on the computer screen, when suddenly I heard a knock on my door. I was concentrating so hard that the noise startled me.

“Jesus, you scared the daylights out of me.” I turned and saw Barbara standing at my doorway. I meant to close my door so I wouldn't be disturbed, but in my hast
iness to get in the house and get online, I'd forgotten to do that. Barbara wore blue sweatpants with a black top and matching blue-and-black gym shoes. She also had on a pink runners' cap that said Fight Breast Cancer.

“Are you headed out to the workout room above the garage?” I asked, figuring that she'd come to inform me that she'd be stepping out for a while.

“No, I'm actually going to an aerobics class at the community center and I'd like you to join me,” she said with a slight smile.

“That's okay, I really don't want to go. I have stuff I need to get done. Go ahead and have a good time.” I encouraged her to leave because all I wanted to do was find Wesley.

“Keysha—” Barbara paused “—it's not an option. I want you to change into some workout clothes and come with me.” Barbara insisting that I go workout with her was totally lame.

“I had swimming today. I've already had a workout and I don't feel like getting all sweaty and exhausted,” I argued.

“It doesn't matter, I still want you to get dressed and come with me.”

“Why don't you just take Mike?” I complained, not wanting to be bothered with her at that particular moment.

“Jordan has him cleaning out and reorganizing the garage as part of his punishment. He wanted to punish you as well, but I talked him out of it since we both knew you really had nothing to do with Mike taking Jordan's car.” Barbara gave me a sly glance, indicating I owed her a favor. I wanted to scream because she was keeping me from doing what I needed to do.

“Okay.” I gave in. “Give me a minute to change my clothes,” I said.

“Great! I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes. It will be fun. Besides, you can blow off some steam and get your mind off Wesley,” she added.

Get my mind off of him? Honey, I plan on moving heaven and earth to find him and nurse him back to good health
, I thought to myself.

 

Barbara and I went to her step aerobics class, which was filled with middle-aged women trying to recapture their shapely figures that they had allowed to turn into rolls of blubber. The instructor was a woman in her mid-forties who was in phenomenal shape and could easily pass for a woman ten years younger. She gave orders like a drill sergeant and gave a workout that left both Barbara and me barely able to stand.

“Oh, my God!” Barbara said, panting as we exited the aerobics studio and headed back to the locker room. “My legs are hurting so bad right now. I can't believe how out of shape I've gotten.”

“Why did you sign up for this class anyway?” I asked as I rubbed my stomach. After we did all of our jumping around, the drill sergeant instructor had everyone get on the floor and work on our abs.

“To get in shape,” Barbara answered.

“And?” I pressed the issue because in my mind it had to be more than that. “Is Jordan complaining about your weight or something?”

“No, Jordan isn't complaining about my weight.” She
got defensive. “I look very good for my age and damn sexy if I do say so myself,” Barbara said with arrogant flair.

“You do look good,” I admitted and was about to leave it at that.

“Okay, I'll be honest. My sister is coming to town for a visit in a few weeks and I refuse to allow her to look better than me,” Barbara confessed as we both got inside of the car. She fired up the motor and I immediately fiddled with the radio and changed it from Barbara's boring light music station to the top hip-hop station. I stopped when I heard Jennifer Hudson's voice echoing through the speakers.

“Okay, so you're feeling what Jennifer Hudson is saying in this song. You don't feel like being in your sister's spotlight.” I chuckled.

“I cannot allow my sister to upstage me. If she thinks for one second that she's—”

“Whoa, time out,” I interrupted. “What's the big deal? Why are you competing with your sister like this?”

“Because she doesn't have to work as hard as I do to stay in shape. She's one of those people who can eat anything and not gain a pound. I always want to look younger than her, not older. The last time I saw her she looked fabulous and I looked worn-out. This sibling rivalry between us has been going on for years.”

“It seems a little childish at your age, don't you think?” I asked.

“Yes it is, but—” Barbara paused midsentence. I could tell she was really thinking about what I'd just said. “Perhaps you're right, Keysha. Perhaps it's time for us to grow up. Thank you for pointing that out to me.” Barbara chuckled.

“Hey, glad I could help,” I said.

“I'm a little envious of her, I suppose. After all she's gone through, she's really made a great life for herself.” Barbara paused. “Why don't you and I grab a quick bite to eat?” Before I could decline the invitation, Barbara did a quick U-turn and began driving in the opposite direction from home. I wanted to scream, but I held back.

When we finally did get back in the house I ran upstairs to my room and turned the computer back on. As I waited for it to boot up I decided to check in on Mike. I walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. When he didn't answer, I took a peep inside. Mike was sprawled on his bed asleep.
Jordan must've worked him like a slave
, I thought to myself as I closed the door.

As I walked back into my room I heard my cellular phone ringing and wondered who was calling me at this late hour. I removed the cell phone from my backpack and saw Maya's name on the display.

“What's going on, Maya?” I asked as I sat at the computer and typed in my password.

“Have you found him yet?” she asked. “I want to know how he's doing if you have.”

“No, Maya, I haven't found him yet. I was forced to hang out with my stepmom, but I'm about to get online and continue my search.”

“Oh. Well, I won't bother you with my drama then.” Maya sounded as if something was really perplexing her. I wanted to say “Cool, I'll talk to you later,” but I thought I'd come off as being insensitive.

“What drama?” I asked even though at that point all I really wanted to do was rush her off the phone.

“You have to promise me that you won't tell a soul about this. I'm really trusting you with my secret.” Maya was making certain that I understood the magnitude of what she was about to tell me.

“Dang, girl. Is the drama that juicy?” I asked as I stopped what I was doing to give her my complete attention.

“Okay.” Maya exhaled and then paused for a long moment. “God, I didn't think talking about this would be so hard, but you're the only person I feel comfortable talking to about it.”

“Just say it.” I encouraged her to quit stalling.

“I went down to Planned Parenthood today and—”

“Planned Parenthood!” I squawked like a bird fighting over worms after a fresh rain shower.

“Yes and—”

“Maya, hold on a second.” I had an incoming phone call and I quickly looked at the caller ID and saw Wesley's name. “Maya, I've got to go. I'll call you back,” I said and immediately disconnected her. I didn't even give her a chance to say goodbye. I hung up on her and clicked over to Wesley.

“Wesley, is that you? I've been worried sick about you. And who shot you and why?” I fired off a number of questions. My voice was filled with nervous energy.

“Hello?” an elderly woman spoke.

“Hello? Is this Wesley's grandmother?” I asked, wanting the woman to identify herself.

“Oh, I was just putting Wesley's things away and I
must've pressed the call button by accident. Lord knows I'd never call anyone's house at this late hour.”

“It's okay, Miss…” I hoped she'd get the hint to give me her name so I could address her respectfully.

“Who is this?” she asked.
Damn it, old lady! Stick with me here
, I thought.

“My name is Keysha. I'm Wesley's girlfriend. Is he alive? Can you tell me how he's doing?” I asked, pressing her for information.

“Young lady, do you know that it's almost midnight? What are you doing answering the phone at this late hour? You should be in bed or something.” I quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 10:45 p.m.
What in the hell is she talking about?

“It's only ten forty-five. What are you talking about?”

“Oh. You don't live here in Indiana. You're back in Illinois. I forgot we're an hour ahead of you,” she explained.

“Okay, time is not what's important right now. I've been up worrying about Wesley and calling around to all of the hospitals in Indianapolis trying to find him,” I snapped. She didn't seem to understand the urgency in giving me a medical update on Wesley.

“Oh, Wesley is at the Community Hospital,” she answered. “Bless his soul.”

“Bless his soul? Oh, my God. Is Wesley dead?” I was fearful of her answer and held my breath while my heart pounded hard against my chest.

“No, he's still living. He's going to be in the hospital a little while longer, but he's going to pull through,” she answered.

“Thank God.”

“Well, he's not out of the woods just yet. It's going to take him a long time to heal up from that wound.”

“What happened? Who shot him and why?” I kept drilling for more information.

“Keysha, that's your name right?” she asked.

“Yes. What's yours? I didn't catch it.”

“My name is Ms. Lorraine. Listen, I don't mean to be rude, honey, but I'm very tired. I've been at the hospital all day with him. Just keep Wesley in your prayers for right now.”

“Wait. I'm coming to see him. I
have
to see him,” I said, desperately wanting to be near him.

“Honey, allow the boy to get well first.” I could tell Miss Lorraine didn't want me around, but I didn't care. I was coming to see Wesley no matter what. I was quickly getting the sense that Lorraine was a cranky old woman who didn't particularly care for me, although I didn't know why.

“Did he ask for me?” I wanted to know every detail about Wesley, including the doctor's diagnosis, and when he would be getting out.

“No, but he asked about Lori, though.” I heard irritation floating beneath her comment.

“Lori? Who in the hell is Lori?” I swore at her, although I didn't mean to. It was just an immediate reaction to her remark.

“That's his friend. They've gotten really close and he was protecting her when he got shot.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, trying to process everything I was being told. “Wesley took a bullet for some girl?” I asked just to make sure I'd heard her correctly.

“Listen, precious, I can understand your concern, but I think you need to move on with your life,” she said as if my feelings for Wesley could be turned on or off like a light switch.

“Move on?” I blurted out.

“I've been talking to my son about selling his house and moving down here with me, so I can take care of him and Wesley. He's been giving it some serious thought and chances are high they'll remain here with me in Indianapolis.”

“I don't believe you. Wesley never said anything about a girl named Lori or staying there and we talked every day. Why are you lying to me? You've never even met me, but I feel as if you hate me. How can you judge me like that?” I asked.

“Keysha, it's been nice talking to you. I'm sorry I called you so late,” she answered, totally ignoring my question. “I'll talk to you some other time.”

“No, you wait one minute—” I heard a dial tone. “Hello? Are you there?” It only took me a second to realize that I was talking to myself. Miss Lorraine had hung up on me.

“Ooh!” I howled, agitated and flustered. “I'm going to get to the bottom of this mess if it kills me!” I shrieked as I began an inquiry into the cost of a bus ticket to Indianapolis. I discovered that an 8:00 a.m. bus departed from the downtown bus terminal in the morning. The cost of the ticket was ninety-five dollars. I scraped up every penny that I had, but was only able to come up with forty-three dollars. I sat down on the edge of my bed and tried to figure out where I could get the rest of the money without
a lot of questions being asked. Then it hit me. “Mike,” I said as I popped my fingers and walked down to his room. I opened his door and walked over to his bed. Mike was sleeping flat on his back and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. I forcefully shook his shoulder.

“Mike,” I whispered. “Wake up.” I shook him harder, but all he did was turn his back to me. “Damn it, Mike! Wake up,” I urged, but he did not come to life. I decided to pinch his nostrils shut with my thumb and forefinger. It didn't take him long to wake up gagging for air.

“What's wrong with you, Keysha? What are you trying to do? Kill me?” Mike was pretty peeved that I'd awakened him from his tranquil slumber.

“No, but your breath smells like toxic waste,” I said, fanning my hand in front of my nose.