"Aw man. It happened again," Xavier exclaimed, slamming the newspaper down on the table with a vengeance. "What is this world coming to?" His father barely glanced up from his breakfast of grits, sausages, eggs, and toast; the same thing they'd eaten every morning for as long as Xavier could remember.
"What is it LaMont?" His mother always called him by his middle name. He watched as she tested the water in the sink for warmth before she placed the dirty dishes in it. She turned, wiping her hands on a white apron that she wore. She ran a tired hand through her graying hair.
"This article in the paper," Xavier vented. "Black-on-black crime is increasing and there's nothing that anybody can do about it. Not the police, not the public, nobody. I'm sick and tired of reading about brothers killing each other. Something needs to be done." His father snickered but said nothing in response. "I'm going to find a way to do something."
Xavier got up from the table abruptly.
"LaMont, you're not going to go and get yourself into trouble now, are you?" his mom asked worriedly.
"Of course not, Ma. You know me." He grinned sheepishly.
"She knows you all right and so do I." His father finally spoke. "Land your ass in jail and don't expect to be getting out anytime soon. You hear?"
Xavier threw his dad an annoyed look that he didn't bother to cover up.
"What the hell do you care, old man? Huh? You ain't never gave a damn before. Why you tripping now? If I get in trouble, I wouldn't turn to you for help anyway. If I go to jail, that's my damn business."
"If you get hit in your mouth, that'll be your business too," his father warned. Xavier shut up immediately. "All I'm trying to do is tell you right from wrong," he continued. "That's all I ever tried to do- teach you right from wrong. And what do I get for my troubles? Huh? Not shit. All I got is what's standing before me now- a snotty nosed, smart-mouthed troublemaker."
"Oh no. Not another speech," Xavier mumbled. "I guess you're going to start preaching to me now, right?" He glared at his father. "Preaching 'bout how Woodrow got caught up with the wrong crowd, got lost along the way and now he don't know if he's coming or going. Well, I don't want to hear about Woodrow. I'm sick and damn tired of hearing about him. Woodrow ain't a part of this family no more. As far as I'm concerned, he ain't even my brother." He pointed at his father. "And if you had some sense old man, you'd do the right thing and cut him out of your life too. But you can't see it like that." Xavier threw up his hands. "Forget this, man. You ain't even worth me wasting my breath talking to."
"Lamont," his mother said tentatively. "Don't start now." She spoke quietly. "You know how your father's blood pressure acts up. Don't upset him so early this morning, okay?"
"He don't care Mabel," his father told her. "That boy don't care about nothing but his self. He's a selfish ass son-of-a-bitch."
"Fred Holloway Brunswick," Mabel gasped. '
"I'm sorry, Mabel. I didn't mean it like that now. You know I didn't." Mr. Brunswick apologized quickly. "It's just that the boy done got me so upset." He suddenly clutched his stomach and moaned. "I think my ulcer is acting up now."
'Get off it, Pops," Xavier said. "Now, everybody in this room know that ain't nothing wrong with you. You're just faking so we can succumb to your wishes. That was discovered a long time ago. I ain't with that program no more. Nah bru. You need to start being a man and stand up for what you believe in. Stop wimping out. Ain't you tired of always backing down? Ain't you sick of bending to the wishes of the white man? I know I am." Xavier's whole expression became animated. His body language showed that he was serious as he continued speaking. "We as black men and women have to stand up and speak out. If we don't, we ain't never going to get anywhere in life." He gave both of his parents a sad frown. "We'll all end up like Woodrow- so high on crack that we're off in our own lil' disillusioned world. Is that any way to live?" He got up from the table, walked over to his mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you after school." He didn't even acknowledge his dad as he walked out.
Xavier was well known at his school, Gibbs High. Not only was he academically successful, he was also active in many of the school's functions and clubs. He was a member of the varsity football team. He made use of his time. If he couldn't beat the white man with his fists, at least he'd be able to beat him with his mind. At least that's the way he saw it, until lately.
"Hey fellas. What's up?" he greeted his friends. The usual group of four had gathered at his locker, impatiently waiting for him to show up.
"Man, you're late." A short, overweight guy named Peter Hall said. He was medium complexioned and wore glasses like Malcolm X used to wear. They all sported similar glasses.
"Hey, I had it out with the old man. Y'all know how he is," Xavier stated. They all nodded because they knew how Mr. Brunswick could get because they'd known him for years.
"I could blow him away for you. You wouldn't have no more trouble," another guy named Mike Williams said in a serious tone. Mike was known as "Pretty Boy" behind his back. Xavier gave him a sharp look. "Just kidding." Mike smiled tightly. His eyes said he wasn't kidding at all.
"Man, if you fuck with my father, I'll take your ass out." He glared at Mike until Mike got uncomfortable and looked away. "That goes for any of y'all," Xavier snapped. It was clear to see who led the group now. "My dad ain't the problem. It's these fuckers in the street who shooting each other up, selling drugs and robbing people that's the problem."
"So, what we gonna do about it?" Tim Connor asked. He was a handsome young with a muscular build. He wore a serious expression on his face most of the time. "I'm all with trying to solve the problems any way that they can be solved," he added.
Donnell Brown just nodded. He rarely said anything. He had a mean look on his face that everyone was used to seeing. He was tall and thin, which gave the impression of weakness. That wasn't the case. He would be the first to instigate a fight if someone got him wrong. Over the years, he'd been nicknamed "The Mean Kid," which was well deserved.
"I got an action plan," Xavier told them. "It starts with us becoming known in the hood for who we are and what we do."
"What do we do?" Peter asked.
"If you shut ya fat ass mouth I'm getting to that," Xavier snapped. The rest of them slanted their eyes at Peter and he visibly cowered. "Now," Xavier continued. "Up to this point we ain't did nothing to clean up our communities but talk." He paused. "Talk is cheap. It's time for some action." He stared at each of them. "From here on out we are going to be the hardest ass Negroes in this city. Right now if you ain't down with what we gonna be doing, it's time for you to walk." They all stared at him, unblinking. "Anybody here who don't want to be here?" He paused, waiting for someone to say something. No one did. "Good." He nodded. "Number one, we got a new name and motto. BTO, which stands for Brothers Takin' Over. We are gonna clean up the black community our way. Number two, we are gonna have to recruit some new members. I know we're hard, but five brothers ain't nearly enough to clean up this city. I'm counting on each of you to bring me at least five men between the ages of seventeen and twenty. They have to want to make a difference. They got to be brothers who care about their people. But-" He paused for emphasis. "They also have to be ruthless. They got to be down with fighting because when we get out there, some people are going to want us stopped. We will have to be strong enough to fight these people, whoever they may be."
"Wait a minute now," Mike interrupted. "What are you saying? What do you mean by whoever they may be?"
"That's obvious, Bonehead," Xavier snapped. "The police, ya daddy, whoever."
"Man, how we gonna fight the police?" Mike whined.
"You ain't down?" Tim asked. "Didn't X say you had the opportunity to walk a few minutes ago? Why didn't you walk?" Tim glared at Mike thinking of how much he'd like to hit the wimp in his chest and watch him curl up in a ball of pain.
"Yeah," The Mean Kid agreed. His eyes became mere slits in his face. The rest of the group glared at Mike too.
Mike got nervous. He hated confrontation. "I- I just meant that we need to have a plan or something," he stammered. "You know, so the police won't know what's going down. That's all."
"I was getting to that." Xavier said tightly. He fixed his eyes on Mike for a full minute. "I just can't hold it in," he exploded suddenly.
"What, man?"
"What's up?"
"I get a strong gut feeling that you want to take my place." This he directed at Mike. "What's up with that?" Mike said nothing. "You think you're man enough to fill my shoes? Huh? You have tried me too many times in the past and I'm telling you if you try me like a sucker again, I'm going to take your fuck ass out. You got that?" By now he'd gotten in Mike's face.
"Yeah, I got it," Mike finally mumbled.
"If I was X, I'd shine my size ten right off in ya ass," Peter declared.
"Well, you ain't X. You wanna try me?" Mike challenged.
"It ain't no factor for me. I'll bend ya lil' ass like a fragile toothpick."
"Hey. Hey," Xavier intervened. "You two chill. We need togetherness in this." He looked at each of them. "Y'all down or what?"
"Yeah, I'm down," Peter said quickly.
"Me too," Mike replied.
"I been down from the jump," Tim spoke out. Xavier nodded. He admired the qualities of the younger guy. If anyone could fill his shoes, it would be Tim. He wasn't going to let on to someone how much they were like him though. That's when they began trying to take your place. Xavier didn't need that. Not now. Not ever.
The bell rang for their first period class signifying that their discussion was over, at least for the time being. They all headed off after confirming they'd meet again at lunchtime.
* * *
During lunch they all sat together at a table in back of the cafeteria. If others thought about joining them, they quickly got the message that the five didn't want to be bothered. They wore set expressions on their faces.
Xavier received many admiring glances from the girls. If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it or let on. He was extremely handsome, with high cheekbones and an oval shaped face. He had thin, firm lips and unusual hazel eyes that he'd inherited from his mother's side of the family. His had a low cut hairstyle but by the texture of it you could tell it was of a fine quality. The color of his skin was medium-light, by choice. He made sure he stayed in the sun for hours and hours, because the darker he got the better he felt. His family was from mixed blood. His grandmother had been half white, half Native American. His father's ancestors were of Creole descent. Xavier despised the white portion of blood that ran through his family line and dispelled it every chance he got.
For some, having his coloring would have been an advantage. He knew he could pass if he wanted to. But for him passing wasn't an option. He didn't want to pretend to be white in order to live as white people lived. He wanted the same equality because he deserved it in spite of being black. He wasn't his father.
Thinking about his dad made him angry. His facial expression hardened. He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts.
"Let's get started," he told the group. "First, I'm going to appoint titles to everyone here. Of course, I'm the Head Man in Charge." He paused. No one said a word or disagreed with his choice. "Now, I'll tell you who's going to be my Right Hand Man, my Left Hand Man, and My Back Up Man. The last person will be the Look Out Man." He paused again, letting it all sink in. "My Right Hand Man will be the one who's in charge if I'm not able to be around. If something happens to me, he's to take over." He looked at Tim. "I appoint Tim Conner as my Right Hand Man." Tim smiled briefly, but was all seriousness again immediately. "My Left Hand Man will be responsible for getting all necessary supplies that we need. He'll also manage any money we make- and believe me, we're going to make plenty of that. I'm appointing Peter Hall as my Left Hand Man. Donnell Brown will be my Back Up Man. Cause you good at looking out for a brother," he directed to Donnell. "I know you won't let nobody creep me." Donnell looked even meaner, if that was possible. "Mike Williams is my Look Out Man. You'll play an important role of looking out for the rest of us. Can we count on you?" His eyes rested on Mike.
"What makes you ask that? Do you doubt me or something? Of course you can count on me," Mike said in an annoyed tone.
"Watch the level of ya voice, man," The Mean Kid warned. When he spoke everybody listened. Mike took heed. He knew that Donnell wouldn't offer any more warnings. He'd just catch him off guard with a quick, right hook. Mike didn't want to contend with Donnell. Not when he had a date with Lolita Stevens later that evening. He wanted his face perfect, not all bruised up.
"Sorry," he offered by way of an apology. The Mean Kid smirked.
"Since we got that out of the way, let's eat." They all gobbled down their lunches just as the bell sounded for the next class period. "Everyone meet at my place at exactly five o'clock. We got a lot of planning to do. BTO is going to be heard about before this week is over," Xavier told them.
After school, Xavier went to talk to his football coach. He was supposed to be at practice, but he was going to ask Coach Lester to let him get out of it.
"What do you mean you're not going to be at practice this evening?" Coach Lester exploded when Xavier relayed the news. "You know, this is the third time you've pulled this mess. How do you expect to be ready for our next game if you keep skipping practice?"
"I have more important things to do, Coach. You knew I was a busy person when you begged me to join the team. I didn't even want to be on the team, remember?" He eyed the older man critically. "Do what you have to, man. I'm outta here." He turned and walked off.
"You know this can cost you your position, don't you?" The coach yelled behind him. "Brunswick. I expect to see a doctor's excuse tomorrow. Brunswick?" Xavier kept walking as though he hadn't heard. He didn't care about football. Like he'd said, he had more important things to do with his time. If the coach dropped him from the team, that would be to his advantage. He'd have more time to spend with his group and all the work wouldn't fall on Tim. He knew the young man was capable of handling the responsibilities, but he was skeptical. He wanted to do most of the important stuff. After all, he was Head Man in Charge.
"Mama, I'm home," Xavier called as he walked through the door. As always, his mother could be found in the kitchen getting dinner ready.
"How was your day, son?" she asked, taking time to turn away from the stove to look into his face.
"Okay. Ma, the fellas gonna drop by today. You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not, but your father-"
"They'll be here around five." He was already half-way out of the room. "I have to study."
"LaMount," she called behind him, but he left. She turned back to her cooking with a worried frown on her face.
Xavier knew that his mama was trying to tell him that his father was having one of his attacks again. He didn't care. His father was faking, like he always did. He was in perfect health. His ailments were all in his mind. Xavier was tired of the games. If his father really was ill then he was almost one hundred percent sure it was because of the amount of alcohol he consumed.
Xavier studied for an hour then went to wash up for supper. He joined his parents in the dining room. His dad was already slouched at the table. He looked up as Xavier entered. His eyes were bloodshot. As usual, Xavier ignored him and took a seat.
"Smells great, Ma," he complimented as she placed dishes of food on the table.
"How did work go today?" he asked, grabbing a pork chop and slapping it on his plate.
Mrs. Brunswick worked part-time cleaning for some rich lady. He knew she detested the work and it was a strain on her back. Never the less, she went in each day and always managed to come home in time to cook supper. He felt his dad could be of more help around the house since he was temporarily out of work. As far as he was aware, his dad never lifted a finger unless it was to pick up a bottle to turn up to his thirsty lips.
He glanced at his father. His dad actually did look sick, but Xavier shrugged off his feelings of concern.
"Probably just hung over," he mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?" his mom asked.
"Nothing, Mama. Just thinking aloud," he answered quickly. He waited until she took a seat then they all bowed their heads in thanks as Xavier said the Grace.
Once finished with the prayer, Xavier quickly shoveled spoon after spoon of food into his mouth. His father stared at him with a deep frown on his face.
"Why are you in such a rush? Must be meeting with them hoodlum friends of yours," he mumbled.
"They are not hoodlums. Peter, Mike, Donnell, and Tim are all from decent families. They are decent black folk," Xavier argued.
"Since when did anybody black ever become decent?" his father snapped.
"Old man, if you weren't so bent on being something that you're not, you'd be able to see that there are a lot of good in black people. You just want to ignore the facts."
"The only facts I know about is what I see and hear. Blacks are considered lower than any other race on this earth. Tell me they aren't. Why would you want to be a part of that when you don't have to be?"
"Maybe because I'm proud of it. That's something you could never understand." He turned his nose up at his dad. "While you're out there, it's so easy for you to pretend than to face up to who you are and what you are."
"What's wrong with that? His dad asked. "More job opportunities are available to you if you're who they want to see," he said. "What they don't want to see is another black face."
"But why can't you accept that you are black, Dad? Huh? Mama don't try to hide her true color and she looks more white than you."
"Look, I don't want to discuss it any further. I am who I am. You be who you want to be," Mr. Brunswick said.
"You can keep pretending to be white all you want, but it's going to come back and smack you in the face later on in life. You can't continue to run from who you are." He gazed at his father solemnly. "I'm proud to be black," he ended. They continued to eat the rest of their meal in silence. Minutes later the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." Xavier jumped up from the table. He knew it was the guys. They were on time as usual. "Come on in." He directed them into a nicely furnished, cozy living room. "I'm eating dinner right now, but I'll be finished in a minute. Y'all wait in here." They all took a seat and he went back into the dining room.
Family photos lined the walls. Magazines were neatly arranged on a glass-topped table. They guys chose to sit quietly until Xavier returned.
"I knew it was that sorry bunch," his dad said as Xavier sat back down at the table. "I can feel my ulcer acting up," he complained. Xavier just smiled and shook his head.
"Sure, Pops." He threw his father a comical look, got up and took his plate to the sink. "Ma, I'll clean up in here first," he told his mother. She nodded gratefully.
"I'm gonna go and watch the news. Kick my feet up," she said, getting up from the table. She joined the boys in the living room. They all politely spoke to her. Unlike her husband, she thought they were a nice bunch of kids, kind and respectful. She liked each of them and especially enjoyed talking to Tim Conner. He always made her laugh.
"So, Mrs. Brunswick, when we going out on that date?" Tim asked jokingly. The fellows laughed and she joined in.
"As soon as my back straightens up." She played along with him. "You know I ain't young like I used to be."
"Well, you look better than all the young girls I know, Mrs. B.," Peter threw in. Mrs. Brunswick beamed.
"You boys want some brownies or something?" They all nodded quickly. They loved her cooking, what little they got to taste of it. "Well, go in there and help yourselves." They did as instructed. None of them were bashful.
They each spoke to Mr. Brunswick who barely grumbled a response. They expected that from him so it didn't bother them.
"Ya moms told us we could pig out on some of those brownies," Peter informed Xavier. He eyed the brownies, licking his lips in anticipation.
"You a pig all right," Xavier snapped. The rest of the guys laughed and Mr. Brunswick even chuckled.
"Man, why you dissin' me? You been rude to me all week," Peter whined.
"Man, I been rude to you all ya life. Why you wanna trip about it now?" He passed the guys the plate of brownies. He stared at Peter critically. "You need to go on the grapefruit diet plan, brother." Again, everyone laughed except Peter. He was the first to grab a brownie. Looking at Xavier defiantly, he grabbed two more and stuffed them in his mouth.
"Damn, Slim," Mike said sarcastically. Peter threw him a sour look.
"The man might be hungry, lay off him," The Mean Kid growled. No one said anything further about Peter's eating habits. They all left the kitchen, to Mr. Brunswick's relief. As soon as the door closed he headed straight for his stash in the bottom cabinet. With shaking hands, he poured the gin into a glass of orange juice. He took quick, desperate swallows.