same day, 8:39 PM
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" MRS. THOMPSON ASKED AS AN ATMOSPHERE OF FEAR AND CONFUSION FILLED THE ROOM.
The friends all gave each other nervous looks, Allen's grip on his younger brother's shoulder tightening. Another boom went off. It sounded like it came from down the street where the main road was.
"Y'all stay here." Ms. Thomspon said quietly, taking off her apron and reach for the door knob. Before Ms. Thomspon could turn the knob to open the door, Chris immediately stood in front it, preventing his mom from going anywhere.
"I'll go ma, you heard the news; it's too dangerous out there." Chris interjected, holding out his son, CJ, for his mom to carry. His mom hesitated before grabbing CJ and holding him on her hip.
"I'll go too." Allen said, the thought of his older brother going out there worrying him a little.
"Nah, lil' bro. You just stay here and make sure Malcolm X over there doesn't get into trouble." Chris said, staring at Marcus as he said it. Marcus stopped pacing back and forth and biting his nails to roll his eyes at Chris and suck his teeth.
"Be careful-", Ms. Thompson said before Chris turned away and closed the door.
As Chris closed the door, Allen's mother turned to the living room full of kids sitting in her house, sighing.
"Look, I'll drive y'all kids home. Your mothers are probably worried sick. I know I would be." Ms. Thompson said, mumbling the last sentence as she rubbed her forehead in stress.
"It's okay, ma. They rode their bikes here, anyway." Allen said, getting up and rubbing his mom's back.
She gave him a crazy look that said aw hell nah. "Oh, no. There's no way I'm letting y'all kids ride your bikes home-"
"Ma, it's okay." Allen reassured his stressed out mother. "I'll walk everybody home. And, Chris is out there anyway. "I'll walk back with him. We'll be 'ight. I swear."
She gave the kids the same look she gave Chris as he walked out the door. She felt uneasy letting them out the house, all exposed. Especially in a neighborhood like this with the rioting going on, as the news said. But, another part of her new that they all were smart. They had to be in order to live out here.
"You better call me when you on your way back. I swear to God Allen Quincy Thompson, I'm not playin' with you." Ms. Thompson said, giving Allen a weary look as all his friends got their stuff together.
"Okay, ma. I will." Allen responded, understanding where his mom's fear is coming from.
"Thanks for dinner, Ms. T." Dwayne said as Allen held the door for him. She gave him a small smile, still uneasy. The rest of the them said the same as the all made their way out the house. Allen smiled at his mom before following behind them and closing the door.
The street was dark. The only light you could see was the red and blue police lights coming from down the street. The air smelled like smoke. You could hear people's screams and yells coming from the same way the police lights were shining.
"Always somethin', man." Dwayne mumbled, unlocking his bike from Allen's gate.
"I can't believe those pigs got away with that shit. And now look, South Central is up in flames." Regina commented, gesturing towards the sirens of firetrucks. Malia shook her head in agreement.
"Man, fuck the police. We should be out there, fighting the power-" Marcus began to say.
"Okay, first off, you listen to too much Public Enemy. Second, did you see the news? People are getting injured and arrested. Too much is happening right now. I don't know about you, but I got a sick grandma depending on me." Dwayne said, actually sounding logical as he picked up his bike and started walking down the sidewalk, opposite of where the sounds of sirens and the smell of smoke was coming from.
Plus, no one could really argue with that. They all had families that were relying on them.
"You really sayin' we should just sit and back and do nothin'?" Marcus asked rhetorically as they all started to walk down the poorly lit street.
No one said anything, including Hakeem.
"What's wrong with you, 'Keem? I'd thought you'd have the most to say right now." Willow finally spoke up, and when she did so, everyone turned to look at Hakeem.
Hakeem felt the stares of his friends on him as they all looked to him. Honestly, Hakeem didn't know what he was thinking right now. He was just focused on getting home to his mom and sister. He wanted to make sure they were okay, especially since his mom worked nights.
"I'm just tryna make it home." Hakeem said, turning his head slightly so he could make eye contact with Willow but quickly looked away.
Willow gave him a disappointed look, wanting to say something but decided that now wasn't the time or place.
Marcus was about to say something, irritated with his friends, when a group of people who didn't look much older then them ran past them with what looked like bats and matches. They were laughing, talking about what sounded like the riots.
"Aye!" Allen yelled as everyone stopped walking, turning back to look at the group of young adults who had stopped running too, only to mean mug Allen.
"Marquis?" Allen asked, looking at the his older cousin, one of the people in the group of kids who was holding a bat.
"Allen? Whatchu' doin' out here, man?" Marquis asked, turning his mean mug into a concerned older cousin look as he held out a hand towards his friends and walked towards Allen.
"I could ask you the same thing." Allen said, gesturing towards the bat.
"We 'bout to go loot some stores." Marquis chuckled maliciously, slapping the bat in his hand. "Those white motherfucka's ain't gettin' away with that shit." He said as his group of friends held up their fist. "You heard about Rodney King, right?" Marquis asked once he noticed Allen's overwhelmed look on his face.
"Yeah...but I ain't know-"
"Ain't know about what? The rioting? Shits crazy." Marquis gestured towards the flames and the smoke coming from down the street. "It's happening right on Florence and Normandie. But, we gotta do what we gotta do. We not sittin' back no more."
Allen looked back at his friends then looked at his cousin, sighing. Hakeem listened carefully to what Marquis was saying, his last sentence replaying over and over in his head.
"Aye, I'mma catch you later, man." Marquis said, giving Allen dap.
"Yeah." Allen mumbled, as Marquis turned away and ran to his group of friends. And they ran off, not knowing what they were getting themselves into.
"That's exactly what I'm sayin'." Marcus said, raising his voice a little once the group of kids were far away enough and they continued to walk.
"We know what you sayin', Marcus." Allen said, not making eye contact and walking to where Hakeem was.
The more the riots were being brought up, the more Hakeem was starting to worry about his mom and sister. He didn't know where either of them were and frankly, he was just tired of being around Marcus.
"Look, I'll see y'all in the morning. I gotta make sure Tia's okay." Hakeem said, hopping on his bike and starting to pedal down the street, not waiting for any response from his friends.
"Aye! Hakeem, wait up!" He heard Regina call after him but he ignored her and continued to pedal.
Hakeem pedaled as fast as he could towards his house, which he wasn't too far away from. He turned a corner and saw a group of Crips blasting music in a blue Mustang. He glanced at the one sitting in the passengers' seat as he gave him a threatening stare.
Hakeem shook it off and continued to pedal fast, standing up his the pedals of his bike, turning into his driveway. A streetlight illuminated his small house and from what he could see, his mom was home because her car was in the driveway. Hakeem hopped off his bike, locking it up on the gate. He gripped the straps of his backpack as he climbed up the steps of his porch.
"Hey, ma? Tia?" He called, opening the door to see the kitchen light and microwave on, but no one there.
"'Keem?"" He heard his mom say as he closed the door. He saw his mom at the end of the hallway, still her in scrubs from work. He sighed, relieved.
"Hey, ma." He mumbled, setting his backpack by the door and taking off his Jordans.
"Hakeem Witherspoon, where have you been? Do you know what time it is?" His mother questioned angrily, walking in the kitchen and opening the microwave, giving him a worried glare.
"Sorry, I went to Allen's after school to watch the game." He said, not even irritated at the fact his mom was nagging him. He walked over to the small table that sat in the middle of the kitchen and sat down in one of the chairs.
"Well, call your mother next time you decide to not come home until 8:57." She emphasized, mixing the potatoes of what looked like a TV dinner. "You know how it is out there."
"Why aren't you at work? I thought you had the graveyard shift this whole week." He asked, playing with the old tablecloth that covered the table.
She hesitated to answer the question before bringing the TV dinner over to the table, sitting down next to Hakeem. "They gave me the rest of the week off because of the riots." She said. "You know about that, right?"
Hakeem looked up at his tiresome mother. "Yeah. I saw on the news over at Allen's." Hakeem replied quietly.
"Don't make no damn sense, those police officers getting aquitted of the beating of that innocent man. Innocent black man to be exact." His mom shook her head, poking her fork into the dry meatloaf that came in TV dinner.
"Look, I don't want you and your friends going out there and rioting, okay? I saw what they were doing on my way home from the grocery store and it's too crazy. Matter of fact, I want you comin' straight home from school until this all dies down."
Hakeem was about to say something but decided against it. He knew where his mom was coming from and didn't find any purpose in going against her. His mom looked up from her dinner at her son. She was worried that he wasn't talking much because she expected him to say at least something.
"I'm assuming you ate already at Allen's." She said, her mouth full of mashed potatoes.
"Yeah." He mumbled, getting up and getting a glass cup from the cabinet. He poured himself a glass of Kool-aid and set it down on the counter before hugging his mother from behind. She flinched a little before accepting her son's warm embrace and smiled, softly patting his cheek.
"Good night, ma." He said, grabbing the glass of Kool-aid and heading down the narrow hallway to his room.
"Sleep tight, 'Keem." She replied before he went into his room, closing the door behind him. He turned on the lamp that sat on his nightstand, illuminating his messy room. He sighed, tossing himself on his twin size bed. He sat there for a moment, thinking about all the events that went down today, to the police incident this morning, to running into Allen's cousin that night.
While laying on his bed, he looked at all the posters that covered his wall, his eyes landing specifically on his Malcolm X poster. He tilted his head sideways so he was looking at the poster straight on.
What are you doing, Hakeem? Hakeem thought to himself as he continued to stare at the poster of Malcolm X delivering his famous speech, The Ballot or the Bullet.
Your city is up in flames right now and you're sitting here, doing nothing.
"What am I supposed to do?" Hakeem asked out loud.
Go out there and use your voice, put some of that education to use. Hakeem continued to think, looking at the poster as if it was the one talking to him.
Are you mad, Hakeem?
"Of course. But this ain't the first time I've seen the white man win."
That's a poor excuse. You think I haven't seen the white man plenty of times? That doesn't mean you give up. You and your friends are always talking about what you all would've done during the civil rights movement. Now, this your chance to do just that.
Hakeem immediately sat up, looking away from the poster. It all seemed to make sense now. "Now is my chance." He whispered to himself, sitting on the edge of his bed. It was true, he was always thinking about the injustice black people in America faced and what he could do about it. He got up from his bed and was now pacing around the room. His mind was running around with thoughts of what to do and how to do it.
He decided that he needed to get his thoughts out to someone he knew would listen. He crept out of his room into the now dark hallway. He looked to his right and left and saw his mom and sister's room doors closed. He slowly walked down the hallway into the living room where the house sat on its charger.
He sat on the couch in the dark room, the only source of the light coming from the moon. He dialed the number, hoping someone would answer. It rang five times before someone picked up.
"Hello?" Malia answered with her usual attitude.
Hakeem perked up. "Hey Malia, put Charles on the phone." Hakeem whsipered, not wanting to wake his mom or sister up.
"Why? And why you whisperin'?" Malia asked, smacking her gum.
Hakeem rolled his eyes, wondering why she had to be so nosey. "Why you got so many questions? Just put Charles on the phone."
"Boy, don't be talkin' to me like I'm some-"
He heard Malia stop mid sentence and then two faded out voices on the line. It sounded like they were arguing. He held the phone out away from his ear once he heard a loud static noise. He shook his head, knowing Malia and Charles were arguing over the phone.
"Hakeem?" He heard Charles ask, almost sounding out of breath.
"Yeah, man." Hakeem whispered, putting the phone back to his ear.
"What's up? Why you whisperin'?" Charles asked, finding himself whispering too.
"I was thinkin' about the riots and...I think we...I think we should do something."
A/N: I want to introduce some minor characters like Hakeem's mom who is played by Angela Basset and Chris, Allen's brother, who is played by Mehki Phifer
anyways, I should be updating more reguarly now I'ved managed my schedule for school and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter :)