Red White and Black

Chapter Twenty Two - Part B

Markus

Jay C turned and began to walk to his car, his shoulders slumped and his face bearing the expression of a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His feet shuffled across the sidewalk and he looked so dejected Markus was starting to become convinced this was all an act, an attempt by Jay C to look as pitiful as possible.

A door slammed shut, drawing Markus's eyes away from Jay C over to Abbie's house. There, out the front door stormed Sammy Morris, hatred and venom radiating from him like rays from the sun. He hefted a baseball bat and marched straight to Jay C, who backed away until stopped by his own car.

Smacking the bat into his left hand, Morris snarled at Jay C, "Tell me straight, you black bastard, was it you who broke into my house and attacked my mother?"

Trying to regain even a small portion of his composure, Jay C frowned in reply, "Man, wha'chu talkin' about, comin' out here wavin' that thing at me? I don't know nothin' about that. Now get that thing outta my face."

"Let me tell you something, you stupid spearchucker, I know it wasn't him," growled Morris, pointing the bat at Markus. "But suppose you tell me why your car was sitting here last night? Or did some other useless nigger borrow it, drive over here and park it, then get out and break in and rough up an old lady?"

Markus sat stunned at the hostility erupting from Mr. Morris and glanced over at Coach Holmes who had risen to his feet with his mouth hanging ajar. Even more surprising was the response from Jay C to the accusations from Morris.

"Man, I ain't gotta tell you nothing', you got that? I came over here yesterday to see my man Markus, but I don't know nothing' else. Besides, ain't nobody saw my car no how."

"Is that right? Then maybe you can explain how the same person who saw your car here also saw you leaving out my back door?

Jay C stood taller and shouted back. "I told you once you crazy cracker: get that baseball bat outta my face before you find it someplace you ain't gonna like!"

"Answer the question," said Morris.

"Man, ain't nobody saw me come outta your back door, 'cause that ain't the door I used."

Markus sat in disbelief upon hearing Jay C's response. How could his friend, the kid he had hung out with his whole life, have sunk so low? Wasn't this the same guy he was just shooting baskets with only a few days earlier? The thought of his friend breaking into his neighbor's house was bad enough, but assaulting Abbie's grandmother and putting her into a coma was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed.

Morris was in a rage. "You gotta be the stupidest idiot in the world. I just made all that up about someone seeing you."

"And what you gonna do about it, whitebread? It's just too bad that sweet little girl of yours wasn't there as well. I'da showed her the best time of her life."

Several things seemed to happen all at once. Mr. Morris, who had already turned away, reared back and swung the ball bat into Jay C's ribs like he was swinging for the fences. Jay C doubled over in pain and Markus jumped from the porch, darting to Morris and tackling him to prevent a further attack on Jay C.

Furious with him for instigating this whole affair and equally angry at Mr. Morris for seeking revenge vigilante style, Markus yanked the bat from his hands. "Stop it!" He flung the bat across the street and pulled Mr. Morris away. "Call the police on him if you want, but don't try and beat him to death."

"You traitor!" said Jay C between gasps. "I shoulda known you'd side with him." He staggered to his feet and fell against the door of his car.

"Let go of me," said Mr. Morris with a surprising calmness. "I'm not gonna call the cops. Not yet anyway. What I am gonna do is wait till he's got no one around to save him, then I'm gonna break his skull open. Better yet, I oughta get a rope and hang him from that old tree. He'd be a lot less likely to cause trouble if his neck was stretched a little."

Markus stepped back, feeling the hatred oozing from Mr. Morris in a tangible way and wanting to avoid it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jay C bent over the door of the car, obviously still in pain but unable to continue any hostility.

"Come on, man. You break open his skull, then what gonna happen to your family? You gonna end up in jail. If Jay C really did this, then let the police do their job."

Morris started to respond, but his eyes widened at the sight of an ugly looking automatic pistol pointed at his head. Jay C gripped the pistol in both hands and wore a self satisfied grin on his face.

Brandishing the gun, Jay C yelled out, "Get out of the way Markus. I'm about to bag me a racist cracker!"

"You ain't gonna do no such thing," said Markus. He began to walk toward Jay C full well knowing his friend would end up in prison if he carried through with his threat. "You need to put that gun away and calm down. Both of you. Everybody needs to calm down."

"Markus, man, I'm tellin' you, get outa my way. I gotta do this. This whitebread needs to be put down, he's like a dog with rabies. He talkin' big 'bout how he gonna hang me from that tree, I'm gonna show him what a chunk of hot lead feels like,"

Markus drew close to Jay C. and with his hands held low, he continued to walk forward, forcing Jay C to back away. "This is a mistake, Jay C. So gimme that gun so we can all calm down and nobody gets hurt."

He reached for the gun, hoping Jay C. would show some common sense and let it go. Instead, Jay C snarled. "Man, I already got hurt. I took an Ernie Banks right in the ribs."

A brief scuffle ensued, each grabbing at the gun trying to force it from the other's grip. Jay C, being bigger and stronger, managed to maintain his hold even while gasping for breath and wincing at the pain shooting from his rib cage.

"Come on, Jay C," said Markus, realizing he was losing control, "let go of this gun and start thinkin' straight. You gonna end up in jail, you keep actin' like this."

With a grunt of pain, Jay C jerked the gun away from Markus. "Oh yeah? And how's anybody gonna know who done it? Huh? You gonna tell the police? The only way for them to know is for you to be tellin'. Is that what you gonna do? You turnin' into a cracker lover? I know you got a thing for his daughter, but I can't even believe you gonna turn against your brother!"

"Don't be like this man. You know this ain't right."

"Stop tellin' me what's right! You don't know anymore, you don't have a clue. You done lost your way and sold out to the other side. You forgot where you came from and what's important."

Jay C tossed the gun into the car and slid into the driver's seat. With a face of pure hatred and malice he looked past Markus and added, "And you, white boy. Don't be thinkin' this is over. One way or another, you and me ain't through."

The custom car raced away from the curb leaving Markus bewildered and hurt. How had his friend, a kid he had known since childhood, gone so far down the wrong path that he was actually willing to threaten murder? He shook his head in dismay at Jay C and turned to apologize to Coach Holmes.

He was gone.

He had vanished during the scuffle and with him, so had the spot on the roster of Wheeler Tech. Not that Markus could blame him. People attacking each other with baseball bats and handguns weren't likely to be a regular part of his daily routine.

A dry wind kicked up an old newspaper, scuttling it across the yard. Markus bent over and grabbed it, crumpling it into a ball and hefting it in his hand. His insides felt hollow as he realized this was as close to playing ball as he would ever again get. His last shot at college ball had been right here, right within his grasp. And he had blown it.

His life was over, merely waiting to be played out.