Get What You Give (11 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

BOOK: Get What You Give
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“Come on, let's dance. I want you to sex me up,” he said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor, grabbing my behind a little too hard. Yeah, he was attractive, but I wasn't feeling him at this moment.
Across the room, a violent brawl broke out. I looked really hard, and it was G-Dogg. I knew Evan's guy was no good. No good for her or any other girl, for that matter. He was pointing a 9mm at the chest of another dude who was wearing a black bandanna. This scene had gang activity written all over it.
G-Dogg took the gun from the other guy's chest and aimed it in the air, shooting three rounds. Everyone panicked, and there was pure pandemonium as people tried to exit the building. When I turned around to tell my dude we needed to leave, he was nowhere in sight! I was terrified, alone, and in a serious pinch.
10
BLACKBERRY
M
y phone started losing it as several text messages came across.
Where are you?
one read. Another had
Are you safe?
The last had
A tornado has just hit a town near us.
I read them so quickly I didn't even see who they were from.
But as people ran around crazily, I was in my own whirlwind. I had no time to answer anyone because I needed to make sure my butt didn't get shot. Someone came by and pushed me, which it threw my phone across the room. When I tried to go get it, gunshots were returned by the rival gang. As I ducked, glass at the bar was shattered and sprawled on me, cutting me in my brow. Most people were gone, but about a dozen of us were caught in the severe cross fire.
The club manager frantically screamed out, “They're blocking the exits! We've all gotta go toward the kitchen to the freezer! Come on, let's go! Let's go!”
I had no idea where Morgan was, but, luckily, I grabbed my phone and saw it had a message from my parents. They were worried and hadn't heard from me. This wasn't even tornado season. It was December, for goodness' sake. Though it wasn't the season, the weather had a mind of its own because there was definitely a tornado in our state. As though the turmoil from the fighting weren't enough, the howling winds, falling debris, severe rain, and thunder were scaring me to death as well.
“The chair is on top of me—I can't move! Miss, help me, please!” a voice called out to me as I was running in the direction of everyone else left in the club. I didn't even know how I heard the voice. There was so much noise from the terrible weather and gangs' trash talking.
It was a man behind the bar, and an enormous piece of glass from the mirror had fallen and was stuck in his leg. I didn't have time to waste. It was more than obvious that there was no way I would be able to lift the large object out. Time was running out fast. At that very moment, the roof was being torn off the building.
The club manager saw me looking over the bar, not understanding what was going on, and called out, “Miss, come now! We're gonna lock this door to keep the thugs out. They can kill each other, but I ain't dying because of their senseless feud. We have to move toward the area that's insulated till the cops get here and stop this foolishness.”
“Sir, there's a man trapped over here. I think he's your bartender. His leg is gashed open from the mirror debris. I can't lift him. You gotta come save him.”
“Oh, no, that's Mark!” the manager called out before turning toward the other people in the refrigerator. “Are there any other young men who can lend me a hand?”
I walked closer to the door and saw seven scared folks. I was stunned to see big ole Morgan as one of them. I pointed and said, “That's my date. I'm sure he can help.”
Morgan came from the back of the tight, cold room and said, “Don't go volunteering me for nothing. That's how brothers die—try to start a fight or stop one. I am not a fool. I'm walking far away from the drama. Almost made it out the door till one of them guys locked it.”
“No one is asking you to stop anything. Someone out there needs help. The bartender is seriously hurt. You gotta help!” I pleaded.
“Please, you know the old saying—all I gotta do is stay black and die. I don't plan to do that tonight. I ain't stepping out into that. Bullets have no names on them.”
I understood what he was saying, but someone had risked her life to save mine. If Ms. Mayzee had thought like him, I would not be here myself. I had to care. My cruel stare told Morgan how disappointed I was in him.
He said, “Look, I'm glad you got in here. We need to keep this door closed to keep the fighting out there. People said they're fighting over drug money. That means they gon' be in there till only one person is standing. We don't need to be up in that. The police will come, and they'll want witnesses. They'll kill you so you can't talk. If you and the manager go out there, none of us will be safe.”
I couldn't believe what he was saying! There was a man out there who needed our help. And though it was risky, how could I think about not doing everything I could to save him? And if I perished in my efforts, then it was just my time. But Morgan stayed strong and would not move.
The manager heard the groans from the injured Mark and said, “Is anyone else willing to help me?”
I was ready to move and help lift Mark myself, but two other male customers stood, and the manager told me I'd helped enough. As they went into the nonstop debris blood bath, I prayed. I felt Morgan breathing deeply behind me, but he was the last person I wanted to entertain.
Morgan grabbed my hand in his. “Okay, now, he'll be okay. We need to get inside this freezer.”
I pulled away from him as hard as I could and said, “You got your way. You ensured you saved yourself. I'm waiting by this door to open it as soon as they come this way with him.”
“You stay by this door, and you won't be alive. Sometimes you have to cut your losses and move on.”
“If you stand here to save yourself and not risk helping someone else, I don't know how you can live with it. I'd go outta my mind if I were you. I'm not saying I got nine lives, but just this year God has taught me you gotta care about people and help when you can.”
“Yeah, you can pray for people, but you have to be safe,” Morgan argued, flicking his hand at me like he was tired of trying to convince me he was right as he went to the back of the freezer.
Moments later, the three men came to the back with Mark. His leg was completely bloody and still had a shard of glass in it, but they did make it back. We wrapped part of his leg with a tablecloth. We all stayed there, hoping the police would come and that the town was still intact.
I tucked my head between my legs and prayed.
Lord, please help us get through this. Help everyone who's out there. I know You have a time for us all, but thank You for giving me present life. Thank You for giving me a heart big and massive enough to care about others and want to help them more than myself. And thank You for helping me see that Morgan is not the right one for me. The arms I longed to be in all night are unequally yoked from mine. I mean, he's thinking about everything other than pleasing You. And I know You call us to be linked with people who have the same beliefs. I feel good resting in Your cozy arms, Jesus. Ms. Mayzee gave her life to save mine. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do the same.
My phone vibrated loudly and uncontrollably. It was my mom. Her text read
Please tell me you're okay, Hailey.
I was happy to text back
Mom, I'm fine.
I wisely told her what she wanted to hear. I didn't want her to know I wasn't okay.
 
My heart was light and relieved when the cops busted into the club. We heard the gunshots cease, and the manager made sure it was okay for us to go out into the once hopping place. We gave statements and our information to the police in case we needed to be questioned again. Thankfully, no one was dead—just tons of injured guys on both sides. The ambulances came, and we made sure Mark got attention quickly.
G-Dogg saw me leaving. “Shorty, I ain't know you was here. I'ma be gone for good bit this time, fo' sure. Take care of Evan for me. Got it?”
The policeman tightened up the handcuffs, and G-Dogg would not walk away, seemingly waiting on my answer. I nodded. I owed the thug nothing, but I knew I already was going to do what he asked. Evan was gonna be okay. I was going to make sure of it.
I guess I was blessed to have so many people care about me. After I sent my mom a text, my phone continued to blow up. My blood sister, Hayden; my line sisters; the dean of pledges; and a shocking text from Covin:
Just wanted to make sure you're cool.
What are you doing, Hailey?
I had thought to myself while I was in the back of the freezer. The others who had been in the cold place with me and Morgan at the time were now hugging, embracing, saying how much they cared about each other. And I knew there was nothing of substance between Morgan and myself, and as I looked down at my phone, I also knew I should have been out on a date with someone who really cared about me. Someone who cared about the well-being of others just like I did. Someone who didn't mind getting a little dusty or even bruised black and blue to help people. Someone excited to stand for something bigger than themself.
“You can have an attitude all you want, but we need to go home,” Morgan said to me as I looked at him like I wanted to pick up one of the weapons—now on a table collected by the detectives—and use it on him.
“You're right, I can have an attitude, and I am deserving of feeling this way toward you. In my eyes you may have muscles bulging everywhere, but you're worse than the lion in
The Wizard of Oz
. You're a coward.”
“Whatever, Hailey. Like on an airplane, don't put the mask on somebody else before you put it on yourself. I had to make sure I was safe. I tried to make sure you were straight, too, but when you wanted to watch the door, you were on your own. I give a lot, but there's gotta be something in it for me.”
“Wow. Well, listen to that. If you truly give, you're not giving—you're trading,” I said to him as I thought about a philosophy my dad had told me that he'd learned in the Navy.
Huffing and puffing, Morgan thought he was doing me a favor by asking, “Well, I'm leaving. Do you want a ride or not?”
“Miss, what school do you attend?” asked a man who had helped the manager with his wife standing next to him.
“Western Smith College, sir,” I responded, rolling my eyes for Morgan to leave me alone.
“We'll be swinging past there. We can give you a ride if you want,” the patron's wife said to me.
“Thank you,” I said, gladly taking them up on the offer; riding with strangers who were heroic was much better than being with a dude I now knew to be a jerk.
Walking out, Mark, the guy I'd risked my life to help—called out from the back of the ambulance. “You just don't know what a blessing you are! Most people would've been like that guy you were with, just happy to save themselves.” And then he started crying. “I guess I gotta call you a hero.”
“No, you don't have to do anything but get to the hospital and treat that leg. Pay it forward, as the saying goes. Somebody saved my life, and I'm happy to make sure yours was safe, too.” Then we shook hands.
The club manager said, “I'm Jim. In all the commotion, I forgot to introduce myself. When we get this place back up and running, you gotta come back with some of your girls and have a drink on me.”
I nodded. We all finally looked around and noticed that outside was a bit of a mess. The storm had been merciful; buildings in our town held up, but the devastating scene was indescribable. Trees were down. Roofs were off. People had outages and visible damage. As I arrived back at school, I learned that, thankfully, all of our buildings stood tall, and everybody was accounted for. Teddi was the first to come hug me.
“Girl, where have you been? We all were so worried.”
“It's a long story I have to tell you over warm blankets, fresh cookies, and hot tea.”
I told my girl, and I cried in her arms. I'd been such a fool, and Teddi was kind enough not to say, “I'd told you so.” She also encouraged me, saying I hadn't lost all my marbles because at least I was done with Morgan. That I was.
“There's an SGA phone-tree message going around. They want us to go to a trailer park in the next county to clean up some of the debris,” Teddi informed me, seeing I was melancholy. “You up to helping? It's a mess. I'm headed out now.”
Without hesitation, I put on sweats and joined her for the road trip. I still hadn't answered Covin's text. He wasn't in the group going to the trailer park. Probably just as well I didn't see him.
It was five
AM
, and the light was just cracking through the sky. As we neared the town of Conway, Arkansas, I pepped up. As I looked around at the town that had lost nearly everything, I was quickly reminded of how blessed I was. I still had a lot.
When the Western Smith caravan got to the trailer park that was destroyed, I was just pleased entirely to help out where I could. We were here to help anyone try to collect the things they could salvage. Then I came across the cop whose face I would never forget—he had badly beat up G-Dogg. He was sitting in the middle of wreckage, looking like he was wondering what he was going to do next. As angry as I had been that day at his actions, I felt his heart was now broken, and it broke my own heart.
As I studied the movement of folks helping, I realized these people were still blessed as well. They had something many never get: they had each other.
I went over to him, placed my hand on his shoulder, and said, “Sir, I don't know if you remember me, but ...”
He looked up and said, “Yeah, I know your face. You're from Western Smith. Thanks for helping us. Since I was suspended, I've realized I was wrong.”

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