We Mortal Men (A Short Story)

We Mortal Men

"Yous the same man you was when I first met you," Craig said, a solid look of disappointment was dawned upon his face. I refused to look up back at him, not as an act of fear or shame, but I refused to let him see the rage in my eyes as I ate my stale cereal.

Not a day in my life had I ever had the luxury of tasting honey nut Cheerios with the honey, or the orange juice that didn't come from a can or have anything other than McDonald's or Roscoe's when Mama, Craig, Darrell, and I left to go out to eat. Daddy never went with us, he was a hustler that has little time or patience for the three of us kids.

"I ain't a man, yet. Why you saying it as if you knew me only since jr high?" I asked, quietly. Craig ain't blood, never has been. But he's my brother, and always will be.

"Boy, you said you was a man once you fucked that ebony girl in the eighth grade. I ain't doubt it for a second. That's when I first got my respect for you," he spoke to me in a tone reminiscent of longing. What was he getting at?

"I ain't my daddy though," I shot back.

"No one should be like your daddy, no one should be like mines, either," he said, solemnly. That's when I looked back at him. Faint shades of red were beginning the creep into the corners of his eyes. He could see the emotionless blank stare in mine.

"I can't cry over someone I don't know. He was just another boy on the street shot by another cop," I said.

"You got the sympathy of a judge," he spat, in a harsher tone.

"Yous a hypocrite, why you crying over one boy when yous killed men blacker than me?" I stood up. "You're fucking bullshit," I stormed out of the room and into the garage, not even bothering to finish my poor excuse of a meal. I pulled my red bike from out behind the car, and I began to ride, with no destination in mind.

Darrell wouldn't be back until five, and I didn't dare bring any cash with me to visit him after school hours. The only thing I had was my bike lock, which lay in loops on the handles, my metro card, placed in my left front pocket, and my phone, just in case if Mama decided to call and tell me to bring my stupid ass back to the home. I thought about going to Vashon high, but that seemed like a bit much for the time of day and I also didn't feel like bumping into any of my classmates. I could've also gone a bit south over to "Headhunters", a barber salon where my cousin, Jamie, would play his sax outside the shop whenever he was on his off hours. I loved listening to him, and hearing classic St. Louis blues might clear my head ever so slightly.

After 10 minutes of riding, I heard the faint squeaks of Jamie. The sounds gave me a feeling of relief, I prayed he wasn't almost over with his break. I headed a bit further south down N 14th street and then I stopped in front of the entrance to the salon.

"Well well, glad to see you here. Thought I was playin' to myself for a second," he chuckled to himself as if he was blissfully unaware of yesterday's events. I knew that he could see the shallowness in my eyes, the rage, fear, and uncertainty of how I was supposed to feel in my eyes.

"I never watch the news, but God said that yesterday should have been the day," Jamie spoke solemnly. I saw his face relax as he packed up his horn. It was clear what was on both of our minds.

"Only a few brothers in Ferguson gangs knew who Michael was, now this whole city acting like he was the greatest," I implored. Jamie looked up, nodding in agreement.

"It's 4:37, I'm not guessing you're here for a cut, you ain't got money," Jamie joked. What I always have admired about Jamie was how no matter what situation he would find himself in, he'd find a way to make things seem just a little better.

"I needed to get away from Craig, he's acting like Michael was blood. I can't fucking-"

"Watch it," he interjected.

"My bad, chill. But still, Craig get's on my nerves. His attitude towards this city is infecting my mindset. It's toxic," I enunciated.

"You said you love it here," he said.

"But not like Craig," I added. "I should go, mama might not stop for gas again this time."

"Car gas or loud?" Jamie chuckled.

"At this point," I paused, "I ain't quite sure."

I hopped back on my bike, a faint smile was plastered on my face. Going to Jamie was the right idea, for a few minutes, it all felt a lot less like my people weren't in danger