I remember things that nobody else seems . . . I remember things that nobody else seems.
We pull up to the stadium and as we do it seems I hear nothing but the faint yells and hollers of Michael consumed in the colors and the people and the flags . . . I’ve never seen so many people in one place . . . I sit up a little more and look up at the stadium . . . how big it is, and in doing so I allow myself to imagine being at the very top.
I let my face drop . . . And look at my hands.
I feel a push in my shoulder, and so I turn and look at Michael as he starts to get out the car—still whooping and hollering. He’s a passion of a child I only wish I was half of.
“Come on lil man let’s go!”
I look after him, closing the door and running around the car and look up at my mother as she yells after him. I look at her in the rearview mirror putting on makeup and dabbing at her eyes . . . They think kids don’t know . . . But I know . . . I know.
I grab the handle on the door and get out and look toward Michael who is standing about two cars down staring at the lines and the stadium with eager excitement. And as if he could feel my eyes on him, he turns around and waves me earnestly to come and join him.
“Come on D.J.! Why are you going so slow!?” I stuff my hands in my pockets and put my face to the ground and start to walk to him.
“Hey! Y’all hold up. The game ain’t goin nowhere.”
Michael makes a face at my mother still getting out the car.
“The way you were driving we know,” Michael mutters under his breath.
“What yah say boy!?” I turn and look at my mother after reaching Michael. I can’t believe she heard him.
“Nothing!” Michael yells. He wraps his arm around me and hugs me to him. “Lil man this bout to be the best game you done ever seen! They got the number one running back out here! And the quarter back is pretty raw too, but I think our team is still better. We just underrated yah know what I’m sayin?” I just sigh and shrug my shoulders.
“Oh come on lil man! I’ma needs you to get a pep-in-yo-step!”
“And I’ma needs you to calm down Michael. I am not gonna chase you all around this stadium.” Michael waves his hand at momma.
“Yea, yea, yea. You’re a girl. You wouldn’t understand.” I look up at my mother and catch her eye him, but she doesn’t say anything as a police officer comes towards us.
“Hey ma’am you a pretty sight to see, but um, I’ma need you to get out of the middle of the street.” I look up at the man as he grins at my mother, and then look at her while she smiles sweetly back at him.
“I’m sorry officer, children yah know.” She grabs my hand and ushers me and Michael off to the side.
“Oh I know, I have five lil brothers and sisters of my own.” Michael glares at him upset already. See it never fails for a man to hit on my mother. In fact every time we go out, one or two men hit on her and they always do it in some cliché’ way like we as kids don’t know what they’re up too. But Michael knows very well. And he hates it. He’s just a kid. He dreams that his parents will get back together and the family will be right again. He plans it on every occasion, and wishes and prays with everything he has . . . He’s a kid. And none of us dare take it away from him.
“Nobody care about how many brothers and sisters you got fool!” My mother looks down at him as though she never heard such a thing come from his mouth. I just laugh and hold my brothers hand . . . I never know why she puts on such a surprised face.
“Back at it again!” Me and Michael both turn to our right in that instant and my mother looks up too, and as we all do, we see David tall and handsome.
“Daddy!” Michael screams. He releases my hand and tackles David at the knees, causing an even larger grin to transcend on David’s face. But he eyes my mother and sneers at her, for I see the things that no one else seems, leaning down and hugging Michael back.
“David,” my mother says acknowledging him.
David only continues to smirk at her and doesn’t say anything to her. Instead he looks past her at the officer.
“Officer,” he says nodding at him as politely as he can. The officer nods his head and starts to walk away, making a comment to my mother that I can’t hear. I turn around and watch him as he walks on down the parking lot past other mothers and children, and I just don’t understand. He doesn’t say anything to them . . .
“Hey little man,” David says basically punching me in my shoulder. I turn around to face him, and when I do time seems to stand still for a while . . . His face so pure, and clean—promising. His eyes seem to shine bright and radiate like Michael’s. So in that moment I can’t deny that Michael is his son.
I step back inadvertently and grab my mother’s hand. I don’t know . . . Some things I just don’t understand.
“Hi.”
“You doin good?” I stare at him and shrug, holding onto my mother tighter.
“I’m fine.” Michael stares at me a little like I’m crazy, but then he hears the announcer from the stadium and so he begins pulling on David’s suit roughly.
“Daddy come on! Let’s go! The game is gonna start!” David looks down at Michael and rubs his head gingerly.
“James come on will you!” I look around the car in front of us and see a white kid about my age walking slowly playing on a Gameboy. I look up at my mother expectantly, and she glares at the little boy while her chest heaves slightly in anger. She turns to David and purses her lips trying to suppress her rage.
“Aren’t you just despicable?” David shrugs his shoulders arrogantly.
“I wasn’t gonna leave him at home.” The kid looks up from the Gameboy, and the first person he looks at is me, and he beams.
“Hey!” I frown at him and look up at my mother.
“See look, now lil man has a friend.” My mother glares at David, and then rolls her eyes.
“Daddy! Can we go please!?” David looks down at Michael’s earnest face again.
“Yea, we’re going now.” He looks at my mother. “You have the tickets?” My mother rolls her eyes and reaches into her purse pulling out the tickets, and hands it to him reluctantly.
“Thank you,” David says smirking at her. He turns to Michael and slaps him on the back. “Come on Mike!” And like that they start out running toward the stadium.
I turn and look at the little boy about my age, and kind of frown at him. I never knew I had another brother . . . I never knew there was someone else my age. I stepped away from my mother, and went toward him as he smiled goofily and offered his hand to me.
“I’m James!”
It was like I needed to be joined—connected to someone of my age, of my human . . . And it seemed he might provide that. It was like my heart was light, and for the first time ready, not heavy and not afraid, though afraid I was. I took his hand in mine and shook it, and I looked in his eyes . . .
But his eyes were the eyes of Michael. His eyes were the eyes of those children in my class, and so my heart immediately dropped with such a pain I felt myself whimper somewhere deep inside, and cry out tears of mercy to whoever was tormenting me. Suddenly I felt hopeless again—I didn’t understand going from being so high to being so low . . .
He wasn’t me. He didn’t know me. He didn’t know the pains I knew.
But the way he smiled at me, and the way he threw his arm around my shoulder and began to ramble and skip toward the stadium, talking about, “I’ve heard so much about you . . . I’m five . . . Do you have one of these?” I knew, I knew I was subtly blessed in some way . . . I had another brother.
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