Knockout Games (25 page)

Dad drove me to school. He was in a better mood. “With Kalvin behind bars, I think this whole thing will crumble now. You just have to stick to the plan and everything will work itself out.”

Jamison was there to meet us. I got the same stares, same comments behind my back. But around 10:15, Jamison came into my class and told me to come with him. Someone hissed, “Busted....”

We ended up in the principal's office. Evans was dressed in a dark suit like he was on his way to a funeral. He gestured for me to sit, while he just sat there behind his desk, staring out the window. Something was going to happen; I could feel it in the air. “We're expecting visitors,” he finally said. “I thought it best that you stay here until they finish with their work.”

He didn't say anything more until I saw four police cars and two black vans pull up quickly in front of the school. They skidded to a stop and the doors burst open. About fifteen cops jumped out, dressed in black riot gear. Half of them went to the middle school; the other half came running into ours.

Evans handed Jamison a list he had handwritten on a piece of paper. He told him to go give it to the cops and to make sure they didn't cause too much of a commotion.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“Taking care of business,” he said, watching. “It'll be over soon.”

I heard them marching down the hallways. Classroom doors were opened; names were shouted; scuffles followed. After ten minutes, I saw them marching back out with three students, including Prince Rodriguez and a couple other Tokers. They had plastic bands tying their wrists together.

Suddenly, I saw Tyreese sprinting across the grass. He had seen the cops coming out of the high school and took off—a gazelle trying to escape a mob of hungry cheetahs. The cops sprinted after him, but he moved fast, slipping in and out of their grasp. When they surrounded him on the front lawn, he spun around, running them in circles until he slipped on the grass and went down. Three cops pounced on him and it was over. He squirmed about as they tried to pin him down, but eventually they dragged him off to a van. They had seven other middle schoolers, including C-Jay and Doughboy. Then as quickly as they came, the cops hustled everyone into the vans, and just like that, they were gone.

“Well, that made a statement,” said Evans.

“Can they do that?” I asked.

He ignored my question. “Hopefully, our students won't forget this little show and it'll be more effective than Kindness Day. Unfortunately, you all tend to respond more to getting caught than having empathy toward the victims.”

“And what about me?” I asked.

He studied at me with lizard-like eyes. “It seems you have a little more breathing room for now. I would still keep a low profile, if I were you.”

I left his office a bit stunned. It had all happened so quickly. I expected Jamison to escort me back, but Evans' secretary told me he hadn't returned from the raid. Besides, they said the threat was gone, so I was on my own.

I found myself alone for the first time in days. It was eerie. I started down the hallway until I felt somebody watching me.

I turned and saw Mrs. Lee. The poster of her from the assembly was standing outside her office. It was a blowup of one of those bad yearbook photos everyone had to take, the ones where you had to look optimistic and hopeful. I gazed at it for a long time, hoping it would wash away the images burned into my brain from the crime-scene photos. This was a much better way to remember her.

During lunch, Destiny found me alone, shivering on the bleachers. I didn't mind the wet seat; I wanted to feel numb again.

“You know they got this thing called indoors, right?” she said.

She waited for me to say something. When I didn't, she zipped up her jacket and sat down next to me. We sat there in silence for a good couple of minutes, until she meekly said, “Are we still friends?”

I shrugged. “Oh, now
you're
asking,” I said.

She bit her lip. “I didn't . . . set you up. I guess I just got caught up in everything . . . and then my brother showed up. . . .”

“Well, if it means anything to you, I'm not seeing Kalvin anymore.”

We both looked at each other and busted out laughing. It was such a stupid thing to say.

“Was it the prison duds that turned you off?” she said, barely able to get it out.

We laughed until we couldn't anymore. Then we got serious again.

“So, I guess I should say thanks,” she said. “Seems someone left me off the TKO list.”

I had managed to overlook her picture in the yearbook. “I'm always saving your ass.”

She was about to say something back, but nodded instead. “I remember when my brother made me swear I'd leave the TKO club,” she offered.

“And why didn't you?”

She scrunched up her face. “I wish I had, way back when. I was too young. But I guess I was no different than the rest of 'em. . . .”

“You're like me. Too stubborn to listen to anybody who tells you not to do something. Besides, if you had left, we wouldn't be friends now.”

She nodded, sheepishly. “I didn't know K was gonna be at the assembly.”

I believed her, but didn't say so. We sat in silence.

“You gonna testify?” she asked finally.

I shrugged. “Someone's gotta stand up for Mrs. Lee, right?” I said, mostly to myself.

She put her arm around me in a sisterly way. “You do what you gotta do. I got your back.”

I was surprised. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I don't know; I have a thing for losers. If I don't stand with you, who will?”

“Thanks.” I put my hand on hers and felt the warmth of her skin. “You wanna ditch school with me?”

She did a sly double take. “Now? Aren't you supposed to stay out of trouble?”

“I can't stay here. There's something I have to do. And I want you to come with me.”

38

St. Matthew's Cemetery was only a short bus ride away. When we got off and she saw where we were headed, she shot me a look.

I nodded. When she saw the news crews in the parking lot, she got it. She saw I meant business. “Whatever you gotta do. . . .”

We waited under a tree for about twenty minutes. People began to arrive. All kinds of people. Much more than just family and friends. The community was turning out for this one. Evans and some of the staff were there too. I didn't care if they saw me.

We walked in with the rest. Everyone was dressed in black, except for us. As we headed up the hill, a funeral procession of black cars turned into the main gate, led by a hearse. We watched them pull up to a freshly dug grave at the top.

I saw Joe Lee emerge from his car. It was hard for me to breathe. He looked like he'd aged ten years in three days. When I turned away, Destiny put her hand on my back.

“I got you, remember?”

It was a gray and unforgiving day. The priest did all the things that he usually did every time someone died. Then the mayor got up. With him was a man leaning on a cane with a bandage on his nose. He was probably that city councilman Prince hit. There were a lot of people there that looked important. Destiny said she saw some sports stars there too.

The mayor spoke about being “appalled” by Mrs. Lee's violent death, and of feeling “helpless” to prevent more of them. He gathered himself and continued, “But seeing everyone here today and the responses in the paper and online has given me hope. Maybe Alice Lee didn't die in vain. Maybe her death has a deeper purpose behind it. To bring people out of their shells so they don't accept random violence as a way of life. We are better than this. The great Gateway Arch that you see in the distance is not just a tourist attraction. It's a doorway—a doorway to a greater future of unlimited possibilities. We cannot let the acts of a few ruin the acts of the many. We are better than that, and Alice Lee will stand as beacon of hope when all is said and done. Enough is enough.”

Many people spoke after that. Some knew Mrs. Lee well; others knew her only by her community work. The only one who didn't speak was her husband Joe. He had to be assisted to his chair beside the grave. He had a neck brace, and bruises on his face. Maybe he couldn't talk.

Finally, a man stood up with a card in his hand. He introduced himself as Joe's brother. “Joe asked me to read this. He thanks you for all your support and prayers, and says that if Alice was able to talk to us today, she would forgive those who did her wrong.”

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“Joe admits that although he had the right intentions, perhaps his own pride helped spur on those who ended his beloved's life. For that, he is sorry.” The brother cleared his throat. “But Alice would still feel the need to reach out and help all of those kids because that is what she did her whole life: help kids. Her students were everything to her. She never judged them and always gave them the benefit of the doubt because she believed there was good in all of them, no matter how troubled they were. And now, she'd ask all of you to be open to the possibility of forgiveness too. Thank you.”

I wish I could feel that about myself.

As they lowered the coffin into the ground, one by one, people rose, grabbed some dirt from the pile, and dropped it gently into her grave. I started walking.

“Where're you going?” whispered Destiny.

I didn't answer her. I just kept moving until I was standing in a line of about ten people, each moving slowly toward the grave. I grabbed a handful of dirt from the pile. As I moved closer, I knew that dirt would be the dirt that buried her forever.

When it was my turn, I stopped short of the edge of her grave. I'd never seen a coffin up close before. My hand began shaking; my legs weakened. Suddenly, it felt like the grave was sinking deeper into the earth, sucking me in too.

A hand grabbed my arm.

Joe.

Seeing him up close was shocking. One eye was really swollen and bloodshot. The bruises on his face and his broken jaw made him look like he was wearing a Halloween mask.

He grunted, guiding my hand over the grave. I dropped the dirt. It landed with a soft thud on her coffin.

He was unsteady, but he was staring at me intensely.

I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I wanted to tell him it shouldn't have happened. I wanted to ask for his forgiveness.

But my mouth went dry.

His brother came up and took his other arm, guiding him back to his seat. “Come on, Joe, you need to sit.”

He let go of my arm and moved slowly back to his seat. But he kept staring at me as if he knew something.

39

Afterward, Destiny walked me home, where we ended up shivering in front of my house. “I still can't believe you live here.”

“It was cheap, what can I say?” I said.

She looked around at the empty lots surrounding our house. “You gonna be OK?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I just have to wait things out, I guess.”

“And hope things don't get worse.”

I laughed, but she wasn't joking. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she said, hesitating. “It's just things haven't exactly gone your way lately.” She didn't know the worst of it.

Destiny kicked at the sidewalk. “I kind of worry for you is all.”

“I worry for me,” I added, wondering where she was going with this.

She had something else on her mind. “What if . . . things go bad at the trial?” she asked.

“How do you mean?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Like what if . . . Kalvin and them . . . get off?”

I didn't want to think about that. “Did you hear something?”

“It's just that it kinda . . . happened before.”

This was news to me. “When?”

She kicked at a rock in the dirt until it skittered across the sidewalk into the tall grass. “Why do you think they're so hot for Kalvin?” she asked. “Three years ago, there was a knockout where some old guy ended up in a coma. Rodney Graves happened to be the one who found him. He had just passed this group of kids who did it. When he was waiting for the ambulance, he noticed a girl watching from her stoop. She had seen the whole thing; she knew those kids too. Graves convinced her to be a witness. Checked up on her every day to make sure she was still willing to do it. It was an open-and-shut case. This was back when my brother was king.”