Red White and Black

Chapter Four

Markus

The basketball sailed through the air and snapped the net without touching the rim. Markus retrieved the ball, then dribbled and shot listlessly, more out of habit than desire. Another shot, another basket. Everybody who had ever watched Markus shoot was forced to acknowledge the beauty of his shot: it was pure and golden. A flick of his wrist sent the ball with perfect backspin arching toward the rim, something he could do effortlessly and for hours on end. From fifteen to twenty feet out, he was deadly.

A bead of sweat rolled into his eye causing him to miss the rebound and the ball rolled past him and down the driveway. He turned, watching as it bounced over the curb and into the vacant lot across the street. He didn't move to retrieve it. Should it sit there for more than a few minutes, the neighborhood kids would claim it as their own and it would be gone. He looked at it once again then turned his back and instead, walked to the back porch to sit in the shade.

The last four days since returning from his visit at Northern State had crushed his spirit. He had spent hours on the phone talking to every coach from every school who had ever shown even the slightest interest in him. He would have had more success trying to sell Malcolm X tee-shirts at a redneck cookout.

What'd I tell you Markus? You can't never trust whitey, not now, not ever. He noticed Momma's voice seemed to be ringing with more and more truth these days and he shut her out less and less. It was strange when he stopped to think of it. His mother had been mistreated and abused by white people her whole life. She had seen and lived through the worst kind of bigotry and prejudice, turning her mean and vengeful. And now here he was beginning to agree with her.

On the other hand, Aunt Sadie had grown up and lived through the same agonies as Momma, yet she remained the sweet, caring woman everyone in the neighborhood couldn't help but love. She had experienced the same vicious racism, the same cruel taunting, and the same shortchanged life as Momma, but she hadn't let it turn her bitter. She had been beat down by life but refused to be beaten by it. She exuded a peace and sense of stability, naturally drawing people to her. In fact, with so many kids running the streets without a momma of their own to care for them, it was Aunt Sadie who provided the love. Even with her meager resources she always managed to have a cookie or a hug for any number of the near homeless waifs hanging around the Williams house.

It was Aunt Sadie, Markus knew without a doubt, who had kept him from the gangs and the drugs. She was the one who provided the encouragement to go on and make something of himself. She had given him the strength and courage to rise above his present situation and make something of himself.

But now, all he could see was defeat. He had even gone as far as checking the classifieds for a job but the prospect of frying chicken or flipping burgers for a living made him ill. He called about several better sounding jobs but he was sure the men on the other end of the line could tell he was black, just as he could tell they were white. They always told him the positions were filled, too late. Yet it never seemed to stop them from running the same ad day after day.

He was beginning to see why so many of the men in his neighborhood had turned to alcohol or drugs. It was a great way to escape the trap, even while living in one of their own making.

A car door slammed from in front of the house but he lacked the motivation to rouse himself and see who was there. He just didn't care. Moments later he heard the basketball bouncing on the drive and he moaned to himself, not wanting any company right now.

"Hey, Lil'M!" It was Jay C, short for Jason Carter, a kid he had known forever. "What's your ball doin' across the street? You tryin' to lose it?" They grew up playing ball together, but genetics had caught up with the both of them leaving Markus lean and quick while rendering Jay C shorter and stocky. Had Dubois High School a budget for football, Jay C would have been a standout. As it was, he found fulfillment elsewhere.