The Morning After (12 page)

Jerrod looked clueless. “Yep. She got a phone call around seven, left around eight, and stayed out until around eleven-thirty, I guess. I'd just gone to bed when she got home. I just figured it was you, but I guess it wasn't.”

Licking his dry lips with a sandpaper tongue, T.K. struggled to appear unfazed by this new revelation. Questions bounced from his left temple to his right, prompting a rhythmic annoyance. What was she doing out until near midnight, and who had she been with? Was Jennifer seeing someone else? Is that the reason she'd been so cold toward him Monday and hadn't returned any of his phone calls this week? Was she preoccupied with a new admirer? T.K. didn't want to drag Jerrod in the middle of something that he had nothing to do with. This was grown folks' business. Whatever issues he and Jennifer might be having weren't really the child's concern.

In as nonchalant a voice as he could imitate, T.K. said, “No, it wasn't me.” Then forcing a smile, he added, “She probably just went to see Elaine or Angel. Probably Angel. Jen has gotten pretty attached to little Austin.”

Jerrod relaxed into a smile that was far more genuine than T.K.'s. “Yeah. Ma loves it when Ms. Angel lets her babysit. I wouldn't be surprised if she was at their house.”

T.K. wished he'd been as convincing to himself as he'd been to Jerrod. But he knew better. There was no way that Austin was up at that hour of the night. No way Angel would keep him up that late just so Jennifer could spend time with him. But if Jennifer wasn't at the Stephenses' house, where had she been? And if Austin wasn't the name of the male who had her attention, what was?

B
ong!
He jolted into an upright position, heart pounding like a bongo in his chest. A morning time of six o'clock illuminated from the digital clock on his nightstand. Remnant moonlight was peeping through Jerrod's blinds, revealing shadows of wall poster images of his track hero, Maurice Greene, who, between the 2000 and the 2004 Olympics, brought home two gold, one silver, and one bronze medal.

“Not again,” Jerrod whispered.

This wasn't the first time he had been jarred by what sounded like the magnified chiming of the pinewood grandfather clock that stood in the corner of Essie Mae Richardson's living room. The first time the sound interrupted his sleep was just a few minutes before Essie's unconscious body was found lying peacefully in her bed. And just minutes after that, she was gone.

Jerrod had experienced the unsettling occurrence only twice since then. The first time was the day before the news broke that everyone at Colin's job was under the microscope as a suspect for embezzlement. At that time, Jerrod made no connection between the sounding of the clock and Colin's dilemma. Then it happened again.

The day before Jerrod was subpoenaed to testify at the trial that ultimately sent Big Dog Freddie Townsend, leader of the Dobermans, to prison, the echoing bong jerked him from his sleep at about this same time of morning. That was when he began identifying the clock with life-altering happenings. Jerrod had hoped to never hear it again, but here it was for a fourth time.

Fatigue enveloped him, but Jerrod was too frightened to remain in bed. With a single sweep of his arm, he removed his covers and slid onto the floor, kneeling. The whole scenario behind the grandfather clock terrified him. There was no way that he was really hearing it chime. Not when the clock was in the house next door. The homes in the Braxton Park development were well-constructed concrete dwellings, and Jerrod's bedroom was on the end of his house that was farthest from Essie's house. The likelihood of him actually hearing the clock's chiming was practically impossible.

But make no mistake about it; he was hearing
something
. And whatever it was, Jerrod had come to believe that when he heard it, major things would soon follow.

“Lord, please don't let nobody that I love be getting ready to die, and please don't let Freddie or none of the other big dogs be done busted out of jail and looking for me,” he prayed. The thought of the latter brought micro beads of sweat to Jerrod's brow. He remembered very well the “mean mugging” that Freddie, Devion, and Adrian had given him from their seats in the defendants' chairs as he sat on the witness stand, trying not to wet his pants.

Before she died, Essie had promised Jennifer that the Lord would be with Jerrod if he were called to testify. But to the then fourteen-year-old, although he saw his mother and T.K. sitting in the courtroom supporting him, it felt like he was all alone with a big red target drawn between his eyes. While Jerrod gave up all the information he knew regarding the Dobermans, fear gripped him like an eagle carrying his doomed prey in clenched claws. But in the midst of his turmoil, something good resulted. Without even realizing it, Jerrod was introduced to effectual fervent prayer.

During the weeks of that trial, he prayed harder than he'd ever done in his life. Not the regular “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayers that Jennifer had taught him as a toddler; but Jerrod poured everything he had, including his tears, into his words as he kneeled beside his bed at night. Some nights after he talked to God, he'd sit on the edge of his mattress and talk to Essie. Jerrod had been such a wayward boy that he couldn't help but wonder if God was even listening to him. He didn't know if Essie would listen to him either. He'd been deeply hurt and angered by her sudden passing, and the result of that rendered times that he reverted back to his former self—days that he lashed out at his mother, T.K., Colin, Mason, his teachers, and everybody else who dared to try to tell him that “God doesn't make mistakes,” or “It was just time for Ms. Essie to go.”

Everything he'd promised Essie that he'd do: behave in school, study harder, obey his mother, respect his elders . . . all of it was tossed in a hole, much like the handful of dirt that Angel's parents ritualistically sprinkled in the six-foot-deep ditch that Essie's casket had been lowered into.

“Ms. Essie,” Jerrod had said one night, eyes full of tears, as he looked upward through the darkness of his bedroom, “I know you all happy up there and everything, being that you done been reunited with Mr. Ben and all, but can you take a break away from him long enough to go talk to God for me? Please, Ms. Essie. You gotta know that I wouldn't disturb you if it wasn't important, but I really need you to do this for me. Please ask God if He'll help me through this. I'm scared. I ain't never been scared like this before. I know a lot is riding on what I tell those people in the courtroom. If I get so scared that I don't say all the stuff that needs to be said, Big Dog Freddie will be let go. And if he don't get locked up, I know he'll kill me. He'll probably kill my mama too. Please ask God to help me, Ms. Essie.
Please
. If He gets me out of this, I swear—” Essie had taught him never to swear. “I mean, I promise I won't never get involved in nothing like this no more. I won't never let nobody call me Puppy J or even Big Dog J. And you know how all the dudes at school call each other dog just in regular conversation? Well, I won't call nobody that, and I won't let them call me that either. Shoot, Ms. Essie . . . if you get God to get me out of this, I won't never in my whole life even own a dog as a pet.”

He rambled out those promises months ago, but Jerrod remembered it like it was yesterday. He didn't know if Essie had actually gone to the Master on his behalf, or if God had heard his prayers directly. But when the court convened again, Ms. Shepherd, still bruised and barely able to talk through her constant flow of tears, was wheeled into court by her fiancé and took the stand to testify against her attackers. The jury only took an hour to bring back their guilty verdicts. Freddie and his partners in crime had gotten twenty-five years to life for the gang rape and brutal assault of Ms. Shepherd.

Jerrod was glad that God had answered that prayer, and he was happy that Colin escaped punishment for the misdeeds of his colleague too, but now he had heard the chime again, and the knot in the pit of his stomach told him that the next big thing was about to happen.

“Lord, I done kept all my promises.” From his bent-knee position, Jerrod yawned, but his prayer was sincere. “I been doing good in school, obeying Ma, respecting my teach—” His mind darted to Mr. Greene and the things he'd said about him just yesterday as he sat and talked with T.K. Was God getting ready to punish him or somebody he loved because of what he thought about that old geezer? Jerrod didn't know what to say or do. He could tell God that from now on, he'd have nothing but nice words and thoughts concerning Mr. Greene, but who would he be fooling? Not God; that's for sure.

“Okay, Jesus, here's the deal.” Surely with him being a minor, the Lord would be a little bit flexible. “I'll try to do better about Mr. Greene. I won't make no promises I can't keep, but I'll make an effort to do like Coach D says and just not let him get under my skin. I promise to do that. Please . . . just don't let nothing bad be getting ready to go down.”

At some point during his prayer, fatigue took over and Jerrod fell asleep. Knocks to his bedroom door awakened him two hours later.

“Jerrod, are you up yet? Are you dressed? Can I come in?”

Jerrod scrambled to his feet at the sound of Jennifer's muffled voice coming from the other side of his door. He massaged his aching knees, and then slipped back into the bed, pulling up the comforter so that it hid him from the waistband of his boxer shorts down. “Come on in, Ma.”

When Jennifer walked in, Jerrod was confused by her stylish appearance. She wore a floral, silk, strawberry blouse and black slacks. Her hair had been neatly styled in an updo that showed off her high cheekbones, and her face was softened by the hairs of her bangs. It was Saturday morning. Jennifer never dressed up on Saturday morning unless....

“You and Coach going somewhere?” Jerrod asked.

“Going out to breakfast,” she said. “You know it's after eight o'clock, right? Are you gonna help Angel finish packing up Ms. Essie's things?”

“Oh!” Jerrod kicked away the covers and jumped up. He had told Angel that he'd meet her over there at seven-thirty this morning. They were going to get some things boxed up to be placed in the storage space she'd rented until she made a permanent decision on what to do with them. “I'm coming. I just gotta brush my teeth and wash my face. Tell her I'll be over there in a minute, will you, Ma? I overslept.” Jerrod darted past his mother and into the bathroom across the hall.

“Well, don't kill yourself.” Jennifer laughed. “Wish I could get you that excited about cleaning up your own room.”

“I'm gonna clean that up today too,” Jerrod vowed while looking at his red eyes in the bathroom mirror. His room was almost always messy. “I'll do it when I get done with helping Ms. Angel.”

“You don't have homework?”

“I only had science,” he reported through the closed door. “I did it last night.”

“Okay,” Jennifer called back. “I have to get going, but on the way out, I'll tell Angel that you'll be over soon.”

Jerrod was just about to put his toothbrush in his mouth when he stopped to ask, “You ain't gotta keep Austin-Boston today?”

“Colin has him.”

“He ain't had to work today?”

“Angel said he went into the office, but he's not really on the clock. Colin's just catching up on some stuff and insisted on taking Austin with him, saying it wouldn't be a problem. No babysitting for me today.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A moment of silence passed, during which time, all Jerrod could hear were the bristles of his toothbrush grinding against his enamel.

“Jerrod?”

Jerrod winced a little. He thought Jennifer had already left. Spitting the mint-flavored paste from his mouth, Jerrod answered, “Ma'am?”

“I may have a surprise for you when I get back.”

“Surprise?” Speckles of white foam jumped from his mouth and landed on the mirror as he spoke. Jerrod used his washcloth to erase it. “What is it?”

Jennifer's laugh could be heard echoing from somewhere near the front of the house. “Now if I told you, it wouldn't really be a surprise, would it?”

Jerrod smiled to himself. He wasn't as clueless as his mother thought, but he played along anyway. “I guess not.”

“See you in a couple of hours,” she said.

“A'ight.”

It only took Jerrod a few minutes to freshen up and pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that showed his track team spirit. It tickled him to think that T.K. and Jennifer didn't give him more credit than they did. He wasn't a kid anymore. Approaching sixteen and with only two years to go in high school, he'd have to be pretty dim-witted not to know that his mother and his track coach were a serious item. Although Jerrod had made a conscious effort not to build up false hope, Jennifer's little
surprise
was one that he'd been wishing for ever since it became clear to him that she and T.K. were more than friends. He wasn't stupid. Jerrod knew that what his mother was going to bring back home with her was T.K. And what the two of them were going to announce was their engagement.

“That would be so cool!” Jerrod's voice bounced off his bedroom walls. He would like nothing more than to see the two of them make it official. T.K. would make a great addition to their family, and Jerrod would finally have the father he'd always wanted. “I'll bet that would make Ms. Essie smile.”

His spoken words brought him back to the reality that Angel was waiting. As soon as he finished tying his shoestrings, he bounded out the front door and scurried up the steps of what used to be Essie's home. He stopped on the porch and looked up into the sky. This time, it wasn't about having reservations about entering the house; he was just noting the rain clouds that loomed above.

“Hey, Jerrod.” When he entered the house, Angel greeted him with kind words, but her smile was void of its usual warmth. She still looked good though. Jerrod couldn't remember a time that he'd seen her in shorts before.

“Hi, Ms. Angel,” he said, making an effort to keep his eyes fixed on her face and away from her perfect legs. Her solemn look made Jerrod wonder if she were displeased with his failure to keep his word. “I overslept. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be late.”

“It's okay, sweetie.” Jerrod basked in the sound of her term of endearment. If he were a few years older, he'd give Colin a reason not to like him. “You're just in time,” she continued. “I've been working on putting away all of Ms. Essie's towels and washcloths.” Angel pointed down the hall that led to the open linen closet. “I had no idea she had so many of them.”

Jerrod shrugged. “Well, maybe she bought them for other folks.”

“What other folks?”

“I don't know. Whatever other folks needed them, I guess. I told you she knew everything. Maybe she knew people like me would be coming over and would need towels.”

Angel tilted her head. “People like you? What do you mean? You and Jennifer needed towels?”

“No, not me and Ma. Just me.” Jerrod couldn't help but laugh a little at the recollection of it all. “Ma had locked me out of the house one night when I stayed out past my curfew.”