Search for Safety Read online

  Aunt Fay walked right to a room marked Main Office. “Please tell Florence that Fay Jordan is here,” she said to the secretary.

  Minutes later a tall, thin woman with wire-rimmed glasses emerged, a big smile on her face. She and my aunt hugged, and then Aunt Fay turned to me.

  “Ben, I’d like you to meet Ms. Spencer. ”

  “Nice to meet you,” Ms. Spencer said, shaking my hand. I was surprised at how strong her grip was. “I understand your grades have been very good at Lincoln,” Ms. Spencer continued. “It’s no surprise if you’ve been living with your aunt for the last couple of years. ”

  “She keeps on me, Ms. Spencer,” I admitted. It was true. For years, Aunt Fay was telling me to study and to read.

  “Well, you’ll be without your study coach from now on. But I’m sure you can do it on your own, Ben. ” Then she turned to Aunt Fay and said something that almost knocked me over. “So when are you leaving, Fay?”

  “Leaving?” I asked. Ms. Spencer must have made a mistake.

  Aunt Fay winced. It was the same pained look I’d seen when we were outside.

  “In two weeks,” she replied. “That’s something Ben and I still need to talk about,” she added, looking at me. “Ben, why don’t you look around the school while Ms. Spencer and I catch up a bit. ”

  I nodded and left the office, my head spinning at the news. Where is Aunt Fay going? Was it far? How could she leave now? The questions kept coming as I wandered down the quiet hall, passing darkened classrooms and rows of empty lockers.

  I moved down the main corridor in a daze when I spotted an open door. Just then, someone rushed into the hallway. I was so surprised, I stumbled backward into a row of lockers.

  “I’m so sorry!” said a pretty girl with long braids, her arms loaded with stacks of green file folders. She was wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt with the words Bluford Buccaneers in blue writing on it.

  “S’awright,” I said, a little embarrassed. “You didn’t know I was out here,” I added, trying to sound relaxed.

  “Yeah, but I need to slow down. There’s usually nobody here in the summer, so I’m used to having the hallway to myself,” she said, looking at me closely. I hoped she wasn’t staring at my bruised face. “Are you a new office aide too?” she asked.

  “Office aide?” I almost laughed. “No, I’m a transfer student. I’m about to start my sophomore year here. ”

  “For real?” the girl answered excitedly, shifting the stack of folders to her other arm. “That means we’re both in the same class, or at least we will be in a few weeks. My name’s Cindy. Cindy Gibson. ”

  “I’m Ben McKee. I’m glad you’re in my class ’cause you’re the only person I know in this whole school,” I admitted. Cindy smiled, and for a second, Bluford’s hallways suddenly seemed nicer. I wanted to keep talking to her, but I wasn’t sure what to say. “So . . . what’s Bluford like? Do you like it here?”

  “It’s okay. You got all kindsa people here, you know. Just like any school, I guess,” Cindy confessed, pausing as if she was trying to decide what to tell me.

  “Last year, I was kinda hangin’ with the wrong crowd,” she admitted, lowering her voice. “I missed a lot of days and had to go to summer school. When I finished, the principal, Ms. Spencer, gave me a job as an office aide. I think she was tryin’ to keep me out of trouble. But she doesn’t have to worry. That’s all ancient history—”

  “Ben? Are you there?” Aunt Fay called out, her voice cutting Cindy off.

  Cindy and I glanced toward the sound just as Aunt Fay appeared at the far end of the hallway. Dressed in her suit, she looked strong and important, like she was Bluford’s principal, not Ms. Spencer.

  “That’s your mom?” Cindy asked. I could hear the respect in her voice.

  “No, she’s my aunt,” I mumbled. “Gotta go. ”

  Cindy smiled, and again the empty hallway lit up. She looked so good standing there that for a second I didn’t know what to say. Switching to Bluford didn’t seem so bad anymore.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Ben,” Cindy said. “I guess I’ll see you around in a couple of weeks, right?”

  “Definitely,” I replied, turning and following Aunt Fay toward the exit.

  “Who was that?” my aunt asked as we made our way out to her car.

  “Just some girl I met, that’s all. Her name’s Cindy,” I answered.

  Aunt Fay smiled at me, and I could feel my face getting warm. She started the car and pulled out of Bluford’s parking lot.

  “I have a feeling this is gonna be a good place for you, Ben. I just wish I was going to be here to see it,” she said, her face suddenly very serious.

  In all the excitement about Cindy, I’d almost forgotten what I’d learned in Ms. Spencer’s office. Now it hit me. “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m taking a trip back East to see Grandpa for a while. I didn’t tell you sooner because you already had your mom’s marriage and the move to worry about. I figured that was enough,” Aunt Fay explained, putting her hand on my shoulder.

  Her touch hurt me inside. Part of me wanted to be angry at her for leaving, and another part wanted to stop her somehow. I barely knew my grandfather. He divorced my grandmother and moved to North Carolina when I was just two years old. When I was really little, he sent birthday cards, but that stopped when I was in second grade. Aunt Fay was the only one who stayed close to him. She told me last year he had Alzheimer’s. Since then, she was always on the phone checking on him.

  “How long will you be gone?” I asked, barely able to look at her.

  “I’m not sure, baby,” Aunt Fay replied, and I could see her eyes glimmer for a second. “I don’t want to leave you two, but Grandpa’s slowly forgetting everything. I want to spend time with him while he still knows who I am,” she explained.

  I couldn’t imagine Aunt Fay being so far away. All my life, she’d been the rock in our family, holding everything together no matter what tried to rip us apart. She saved us after my father walked out. I was just a little kid then, but I can still remember my parents fighting all the time just before he left. Afterward, Mom got depressed and stopped going to work.

  “I don’t know what we’re gonna do, baby,” Mom had said. I was only six years old, but I remember being hungry all the time, and the refrigerator was always empty. Then one day the power company shut off our lights. We were living in an apartment without electricity and getting our meals from a food bank when Aunt Fay finally rescued us.

  “Geneva, you and Ben cannot live like this,” she announced. She’d come over for a surprise visit and found Mom and me sitting in the dark except for a few candles. “C’mon, you’re both coming to stay with Grandma and me. Let’s go right now,” she’d said, picking me up easily in her strong arms.

  That was the day we moved in for good, and it was the first time I can remember feeling safe. Now those days were gone—and Aunt Fay would be gone too.

  “I’m sorry I have to go, but I know you understand,” Aunt Fay said, breaking the sad silence that suddenly filled her car.

  “I do,” I said, nodding my head.

  There were no tears on my face, but inside I was crying.

  Chapter 3

  “Well, I haven’t left yet. There’s no reason we can’t have a little fun before I go back East,” Aunt Fay said.

  We had driven in silence for about fifteen minutes. I noticed she was pulling into the crowded parking lot of a shopping mall. Fun was the last thing on my mind.

  “C’mon, Ben. You’re starting tenth grade, and you’re gonna need new clothes, especially with the way you’re growing. I figure your mother won’t mind if we went school shopping. ”

  School shopping. It was what we did every August. Before Grandma died, she used to come with us too. As soon as the Back to School commercials would start on TV, Grandma and Aunt Fay would start getting excited. To them, school was as important as church.

  “God put a good head on your
shoulders. It’s your job to use it,” Grandma would say all the time.

  “Grandma’s right,” Aunt Fay always chimed in. “The reason I’m a teacher is because I got an education and made something of myself. That’s what you’re gonna do too, Ben. ”

  For a while, it seemed that way. When I was little, I was a good student, and they were always proud of me.

  “See how smart Ben is,” Grandma would say each time I brought my report card home with A’s and B’s. “One day he’s gonna be president. ”

  All that changed in middle school. That’s when I started caring more about my friends than my schoolwork. My grades got so bad, I failed sixth grade.

  My aunt, Mom, and Grandma were so mad they grounded me the entire summer. No TV, no video games, no computer. Not even a radio. All they gave me were books. For a while, I didn’t open them, but then I got so bored I started reading.

  I liked it.

  My old friends made fun of me. “Who you tryin’ to be?” they’d say if they caught me carrying a book. But they weren’t the ones with Grandma and Aunt Fay nagging them all the time. And they didn’t have the guilty feeling I had whenever we went school shopping after my problems in sixth grade. It felt so wrong to see my family spending their money on my new school clothes when all I did there was fail. Maybe it was the books or the guilt, I’m not sure, but I never failed again.

  It all happened years ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. Aunt Fay did too. I could see it in her eyes.

  “C’mon, Ben,” she said again. “Let’s make sure you’re ready for Bluford. ”

  I nodded and stepped out of the car, wondering if it was the last time Aunt Fay and I would shop together.

  Hours later, after buying clothes and getting tacos at the food court, Aunt Fay and I drove back to the house. Larry’s car was parked at the curb outside when we arrived. Seeing it made my stomach turn.

  “Before I go, I want to give you something, Ben,” Aunt Fay said as I got ready to leave. She handed me an envelope.

  “What’s this?” I asked, opening it up. There was fifty dollars inside. “You already bought me clothes, Aunt Fay. You don’t need to be spending more on me,” I said, trying to hand it back to her. She brushed my hand aside.

  “Keep it, Ben. Call it rainy day money. When you need it, use it,” she said. “You’re old enough to spend it wisely. ”

  I shook my head but hid the money deep in my pocket. “Thanks,” I said, wishing Grandpa would get better and Aunt Fay would never leave.

  She smiled at me and then eyed our house. “I think I’ll come in for just a minute,” she said. “Maybe Larry knows when your Mom’s coming home today. ”

  We walked toward the front door. I could hear the TV growing louder as we got closer. I opened the door and found Larry sitting in his chair flipping channels, a beer in one hand, the remote in the other. The TV was so loud my ears hurt, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes narrowed for a second when he saw Aunt Fay.

  “Larry, can you turn that down a bit?” she asked. I knew she was checking out the house. There was a barely hidden frown on her face the whole time.

  Larry turned down the TV slightly, but it was still pretty loud.

  “I hope y’all put some curtains up,” Aunt Fay said. The only coverings on the front windows were the tattered green shades that came with the house.

  “Yeah, well it’s hard to be working and fixing things up at the same time,” Larry said. “You’re welcome to come in and do it yourself if you want. But I hear you’re leaving us soon. ”

  I could tell Larry was happy to say this. You could hear it in his voice. I’m sure Aunt Fay heard it too.

  “My plane leaves the Saturday before Labor Day,” Aunt Fay said. “I need you to take good care of Ben and Geneva while I’m away. ”

  “They can take care of themselves,” Larry replied between sips of his beer. “They don’t need you or me doing it for them. ”

  Aunt Fay frowned, but Larry ignored her. He flipped stations a few more times, stopping on a sports channel.

  “Tell Geneva I’ll call her later,” Aunt Fay instructed. Larry grunted and gulped his beer again.

  She shook her head and asked me to come out to her car with her.

  “I’ll try to get back here one more time before I leave,” she said when we got outside. “If you need anything before then, call me. Understand?”

  I nodded. We need you to stay, I wanted to tell her, yet my mouth was suddenly frozen shut. She needed to see her father. I couldn’t ask her not to go. But without her, my mom and I were in trouble.

  My bruised face and sore legs were proof of that.

  An hour later, I was up in my room hiding the money Aunt Fay gave me under my mattress when I heard Larry coming up the steps.

  “Do me a favor, Bennyboy. Go up to the corner, make a right, and go about six blocks until you see Cat’s sandwich shop. Get some cheesesteaks and a bag of chips for your mom and me. Here’s money. Get something for yourself and bring back the change,” he ordered, handing me fifteen dollars. It was the nicest he’d ever treated me, so I listened without even thinking about it.

  I wish I didn’t.

  Finding Cat’s was easy. Union Street was busy with apartments and a few small businesses, including a laundromat, a check-cashing store, and an old barber shop. But once I turned up the corner, things changed. Except for a liquor store, there were almost no businesses. Most of the houses had bars on their first floor windows.

  By the time I’d crossed the six blocks to Cat’s, I’d passed groups of kids my age sitting on corners watching me pass. I’d been in the city all my life and knew how to carry myself, but I was a stranger in this new neighborhood. A target.

  Walking back in the hot August afternoon with a bag full of sandwiches, I knew I had to move quick. I’d gone about four blocks when I heard someone yell out to me.

  “Yo, homie. Whatcha runnin’ for?”

  I turned to see two guys rushing toward me from across the street. The one who was talking was tall and muscular. He looked like a boxer wearing baggy jeans and a muscle shirt. The other was my height, but with a mean, angry face. He had on jeans, a saggy blue T-shirt, and a backwards hat.

  I walked faster, but they kept up with me.

  “Boy, I’m talking to you,” the big kid yelled out again. He crossed the street and stepped in my path. I was only a block and a half from Union Street. I could see it in the distance, but it was still too far away.

  “Man, I don’t have time for this. I gotta be somewhere,” I said, trying to step around him. I shifted the sandwich bag so my right hand was free, just in case I had to hit someone.

  “You ain’t goin’ nowhere until we say so,” the kid said, blocking me and turning to his friend. “Shamar, check out what he’s got,” he said, nodding toward the bag in my arm.

  Shamar tried to yank the sandwiches from my arm, but I held on.

  “Get outta my face!” I said, shoving him back.

  That’s when a fist crashed like a brick against my sore jaw. The hit spun my head around and sent pain shooting through my face. I was still on my feet when someone kicked my leg right where Larry had the day before. It felt like someone was stabbing me, it hurt so bad. I screamed and went down on the sidewalk, dropping the sandwiches.

  “Dude is soft,” someone said then. They had no idea I was already hurt.

  Hands started rifling through my pockets as I struggled to get up. “Get off me!” I yelled, managing to elbow Shamar. He backed away.

  “Hit him again, Rodney,” he urged. I braced myself.

  A second punch exploded into my stomach, and I went down again, fighting for breath. By the time I picked myself up, Shamar and Rodney were gone. So were the sandwiches and all Larry’s change.

  My heart was pounding when I got home. I was afraid to tell Larry what happened. As soon as I walked in, I spotted Mom sitting on the couch, a Marlboro in her mouth. She looked exhausted as usual.


  “What took you so long?” Larry barked as soon as he saw me. He noticed right away I wasn’t carrying anything. I wished I could just disappear and never see him again. He came closer. “Where’s our food and my change?!”

  “I got jumped,” I explained, embarrassed to say the words.

  “What?!”

  “A couple guys stepped up to me on my way home. I tried to fight them, but they took everything,” I admitted. Larry stared at me as if I disgusted him.

  “You can’t do nothin’ right, can you?” he yelled, and then he started cursing. “Next time you lose my money, I’m gonna kick your butt worse than any of them kids. You hear me, Bennyboy?”

  My face burned, and I wanted to scream, but Larry’s angry stare kept me quiet.

  “Oh, Larry. It’s not his fault,” Mom said, taking a puff of her cigarette. Part of me wanted her to stand up more for me, but I knew she couldn’t. What if she said something that set him off again? There was no way we could handle him.

  Larry shook his head at me and grabbed his wallet. “I can’t stand to look at you anymore,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna go get the sandwiches myself. If I find those kids, they’re in trouble. ”

  As soon as he left, Mom put her cigarette down and grabbed some ice and a washcloth for my swollen face. “Just don’t let him get to you. He’ll be all right once he gets some food in his belly,” she said.

  I couldn’t stand to have her babying me, and I didn’t want to hear her take his side again. It was all too much, hurting me more than any punches. I got up and headed toward the steps.

  Mom shook her head, grabbed her cigarette and plopped back on the couch. She seemed so tired, not just on the outside, but on the inside too. Like it had seeped into her bones somehow.

  I climbed the long, hot stairway to my room wondering how Mom and I would survive the sudden changes storming through our lives.