Hoodie (11 page)

He listened.

“She put me in ballet. I was going to do it whether I liked it or not. So I learned to like it. And now I genuinely do. But just being forced. And I raised hell about the piano. My piano teacher told my mom that she was wasting her money. I never practiced. I didn’t care. So I got out of that one.”

Anton nodded.

It was pouring out of her and she couldn’t stop it. Once the gates opened, she felt like she could talk for hours, get everything out of her heart and onto him. Let him deal with it, carry the weight of it, because she was too tired.

“It’s just so stupid and typical, I guess. Being wealthy and unhappy. I mean, I shouldn’t say I’m unhappy. I’m not unhappy. Just lonely, I guess. I just wish I had a sister or brother,” Emma said.

She sat quietly thinking how her mood could change so suddenly. She was fine in the car earlier, happy even. Anton was thinking the same thing and decided he knew what she needed.

“Come on,” he said, and grabbed her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, and led her out of his house to a building on the opposite side of his complex.

They climbed the stairs to another apartment, and Anton knocked on the door. A large woman answered. Her hair was wrapped in a mustard yellow scarf, and she wore a house dress.

“Anton, baby!” she cried and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Hey Mrs. Williams,” Anton replied.

“Where you been? These babies be drivin’ me crazy!” she said releasing him.

“I just been busy with school. I’m workin’ on this big school assignment. This my partner, Emma,” he said, and moved aside to introduce her.

Mrs. Williams smiled at Emma and invited them inside. No sooner had Anton walked into the living room then three small children dashed towards him wrapping their arms around his legs. They squealed his name over and over, jumping up and down all the while clinging to his knees and thighs.

He laughed and picked one up, tossing him in the air and flipping him upside down making him scream with delight.

“My turn!” shouted another, and Anton did the same with her.

“What about me?!” It was the voice of another little boy—he looked identical to the first one—and Anton threw him in the air as though he weighed as little as a bird.

Once they had all been tossed, he lined them up in a row, made them stand up straight, and bent down to address them like a drill sergeant.

“You listenin’ to yo’ mama?” he asked.

They nodded.

“You bein’ good at school?”

They nodded.

“You ain’t gettin’ into no fights with other kids over toys or nothin’ are you?”

They started to nod, but then shook their heads vigorously. Emma smiled.

“Good, because I brought a friend over to play today. And if I heard you was actin’ out, then she wasn’t gonna play.”

Anton looked up at Emma and waved her over.

“This my friend, Emma,” he said. “Now show her yo’ manners.”

“Hi Emma,” said the little girl, and walked over to give her a hug.

Emma squatted and let the child wrap her skinny arms around her neck. She smelled like the outside, that wonderful child smell of dirt and grass and hours of nothing but fun.

The boys said hello, but they were shy and uncertain. They hung back, feeling safer being closer to Anton.

“Emma, this is Aesha, TaShawn, and LaMarcus,” Anton said. “I’m sure you can tell these boys are twins.”

Mrs. Williams walked over to LaMarcus and wiped at a smudge on his face.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Emma said sweetly.

“Anton, baby, how long you think you be here?” Mrs. Williams asked. “I got to clean that bathroom and take a load of laundry downstairs.”

“It’s fine, Mrs. Williams. Go on and do what you need. We watch ‘em,” Anton replied, tickling TaShawn who fought ferociously to escape his grip.

“Thank you, honey,” she said, the relief evident in her tone. She grabbed a laundry basket spilling over with clothes and disappeared out the door.

“Okay, so what are we playin’?” Anton asked. He was answered by the names of dozens of different games.

“Hold up!” he said. “Where our manners? We got us a guest here. Why don’t we let her pick?”

The children hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. They looked at Emma and waited. She felt instantly nervous. She didn’t know the make-believe games children played. She couldn’t remember when she stopped playing them, but she thought that she was very young.

Anton walked over to stand near her.

“They really into Hide and Seek right now,” he whispered in her ear.

She gave him a look of gratitude.

“I think I have the perfect game,” she said excitedly. Their faces lit up, eyes sparkling, and they grinned wide with anticipation. “How about we play Hide and Seek?”

The children squealed and darted around the room, searching for their hiding spots before they had even decided on a seeker. Apparently Emma would be the seeker.

She stood in the corner of the living room and began counting aloud. All the while she counted she heard the gleeful screams of the children as they raced around the apartment searching for the perfect hiding spot. It was just like children to give themselves away without knowing, she thought. When did she start to know? What age was she when the knowledge came in to snuff out the magic?

“Here I come!” she yelled after counting to thirty. She turned around and spotted two of them immediately. They were grinning and nudging each other to be quiet, hiding under a table in the opposite corner of the room.

She pretended not to see them.

“Where, oh where could they be?” she said aloud, and they giggled more.

She crept around the living room and then disappeared down the hallway. She sensed them behind her. They were following her to see what she would do. They wanted her to catch them, she thought, and she wondered if she should scoop them up like Anton did and hug them close when she caught them.

She peered inside a bedroom and spotted the other. He was hiding under the bed. She raced towards him and fell to her knees by the edge of the bed. He squirmed to get out from the other side, but she grabbed his hand.

“Gotcha!” she yelled, and he squealed.

She wasted no time wheeling around to face the others who were close behind her. They screamed and started running for another room, but she was too quick. She caught their arms and pulled them to her sides.

“You’re on my side now,” she said addressing all three. “So let’s work together to find Anton.”

They agreed and discussed which directions they should take to find him. They split up and sneaked around the apartment. Her back was to the closet door when it opened, and she let out a stifled cry when she felt a large arm snake around her waist and a hand go to her mouth. He pulled her into the closet, closing the door. He held her still feeling her stomach rising and falling beneath his arm.

He could do it, he thought. Right now. Before the children came to find her. They must have heard her muffled cry. He could kiss her now if he wanted. She couldn’t fight him. She was too small. He squeezed her tightly against him feeling her hands tugging on his arm. It wouldn’t budge, so she tried tugging at the hand that covered her mouth. He could do it. He could move his hand and press his lips to hers in a mere second.

But his courage failed. He put his lips instead to her ear and felt her tremble.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispered.

He felt her smile beneath his hand.

“I got yo’ princess!” he shouted. “What you gonna do?”

It was a challenge, and no sooner had he yelled it then the closet door flew open and six determined eyes stared him down. The game had changed that fast, she thought.

“Give us our princess!” screamed Aesha.

She ran towards Anton and the boys followed. They rained blows on his legs and back, their little fists flying and legs kicking in all earnestness. Anton pretended to be wounded, releasing Emma to them and falling to the floor. Aesha took Emma’s hand and led her to the other side of the room.

“Hurry, Princess Emma!” she cried, and pointed to a spot on the floor where Emma would be safe. “Stay here,” she ordered, and Emma obeyed.

 The boys continued their attack on Anton, jumping on him and peppering him with soft blows from their fists. He winked at Emma before feigning a slow, tortuous death. His head rolled from side to side, and he let his tongue hang out of the corner of his mouth.

The children jumped up and down yelling in triumph, and Emma was shocked when the boys ran to her and gave her a hug. Just as quickly, they released her and ran back to Anton.

“Get up, Anton!” they shouted. “Let’s play again!”

And they did. They played all afternoon, and Emma completely forgot about her ballet lesson.

CHAPTER 7

FRIDAY, APRIL 23

She placed her hands on the ball, fingers turned inward, and chucked it as hard as she could towards the basket.

“Oh my God, you’re killin’ me,” Anton said watching the ball ricochet off the rim of the basket. He was quick enough to retrieve it before it rolled down the hill.

“What? Do I look like I know how to shoot a basketball?” Emma asked.

“Hell no,” he answered. “But I’m gonna show you.”

It was Friday afternoon, and they were at the park. Anton had rejected his friends’ request to hang out in favor of spending time with Emma. He explained that he had to work on his project, and they made fun of him for being a goody-goody. He took the playful insults in stride, focusing instead on the butterfly feelings in his stomach at the thought of being with her all afternoon.

“I think I’d rather just get to work on our paper,” Emma said.

“We are,” Anton replied. “Basketball is a part of my culture, see? So now I’m gonna teach you ‘bout it.”

Emma looked uncertain. “I think a couple of white guys invented the game, actually.”

“So? Who the best at it now?” he argued.

“I don’t know. I don’t watch basketball,” she answered.

Anton looked deeply offended.

“Are you for real? Wait, so you gonna tell me white guys invented the game, but you don’t even watch it? First, how you know white guys invented the game if you don’t know nothin’ ‘bout basketball?”

“I don’t know. I guess I heard it somewhere.”

“You don’t watch any? No college tournaments, March Madness, nothin’?”

“I know. It’s sinful,” Emma said patiently.

“Girl, it is,” Anton replied. “First I’m’ll teach you the game. Then I’m’ll take you to church to let you repent of yo’ sins for not lovin’ the game.”

“I’m a white girl,” she explained.

“Absolutely no excuse,” Anton said.

“Jeez,” Emma replied, rolling her eyes. “And by the way, I don’t do church.”

At this statement, Anton clutched at his chest feigning a massive heart attack.