Chapter 10

Friday, July 9, 1976

I awoke to a rainy grey day. I knew I had to continue my conditioning program. I forced myself out of bed. I dressed in my workout clothes and took my room key and my neck pouch. I still needed a wallet.

Outside it was chilly and wet. I started towards the park to do my daily run, and remarkably I was not the only one running. I was probably the youngest one here. I ran about 2 miles and then did my cool-down exercises. I felt better and awake, but I was both wet from the rain and sweat and chilled after I stopped exercising. I was walking back to the hotel when the skies opened up, and the thunderstorm started in earnest. I was drenched by the time I got back to my room. I should have stayed in bed.

I quickly got into the shower. I cranked the hot water to the max, and the heat and steam started to work its magic on me. Slowly I began to feel almost human again. I stood in the shower, just letting the water hit me. It seemed an eternity. I started to think about the house and the phone call from last night. Was it worth it? If it were people from the neighborhood, would it be safe to move there? What could I do to make the house safer? At what cost, and when would that become impractical or too expensive? I had the money. But spending it unwisely or foolishly could deplete it quickly.

Maybe I should look at rebuilding the house I already owned. Maybe tearing it down and starting over could be wiser. I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t talk to Uncle Lucas; he wasn’t someone I trusted any longer. I had an idea, but it was a long shot.

I went to the church we attended. The pastor was named Lloyd Jefferson. Calvin’s parents were married by him in the church, and we attended Mount Calvary Baptist Church every Sunday. I didn’t attend church in my first life after I left home. But I was dragged to church every Sunday and Wednesday night. There were no excuses, complaining about it would not have been in my rear ends best interest, so I went.

I didn’t think Mr. Jefferson would be on the bad guy’s side. And I could use his help. I knocked on his office door. He told me to come in, so I did. He was about 70 by the look of his face and hands. They were heavily wrinkled, and his hands had large liver spots. He had thick eyeglasses, and they made him look bookish.

Pastor Jefferson offered me a chair. I took it without comment.

“Calvin...”

“I prefer Michael now, pastor Jefferson,” I interrupted.

“I see. Ok, Michael. How are you holding up? I see you are walking around very well. No limp or signs of injury. You’re a very blessed man.”

“Yes. I am very blessed, pastor, I lost my parents to a car wreck. I spent three weeks in a coma. I suffered from excruciating pain. I had my house shot up by unknown people, probably gang bangers, which has made it uninhabitable. But yes, I am very blessed.”

“Those are all true, but you are alive. You’ve healed with no signs of the trauma you suffered. You are healthy; rumor has it you collected a rather generous settlement. Once again, I say you are a very blessed young man.”

“I concede to your interpretation. I didn’t come here to argue,” I said.

“Why did you come, if I may ask?”

“I came for advice,” I answered.

“How can I help?”

“Well, I was thinking of moving into a different neighborhood, one that isn’t part of the ghetto. My uncle, who is now my legal guardian, got a new job over at Ford Motor Company. He is going to be one of the lead design managers working on the future Mustang. So, he is going to make good money. We went and looked at a house in Brighton Estates yesterday.

We found a house we both liked. I offered to use part of the money from my settlement to purchase it. I received a phone call last night at the hotel we are staying at, and they made a threat that I would not be moving into the neighborhood. The problem is I only gave that telephone number to my attorney. The only other person to know it is my uncle. And the other bit of information I have is I overheard my uncle on the phone. I heard him say something about them missing me, and no, we can’t do anything now. I was going to get my settlement. And because he is my guardian, he would be able to get a large chunk of it. Or words similar to those.” I paused for a breath.

“So, you see, I don’t think I can trust my Uncle Lucas, and I can’t prove the realtor didn’t say something to the wrong people. I got the distinct feeling they don’t want black people moving into the neighborhood, even though it is illegal to prevent anyone from living anywhere.”

“I can see your dilemma, but I am not sure what you are asking exactly?”

“I need help. I need to know. Should I try to buy the house even though I have been threatened? Or should I just rebuild? How should I handle my uncle? He seems to want to steal my money. I don’t feel safe around him. Do I go to the cops? Will that do any good? Who do I talk to about getting a better guardian?”

“Son, these are really big questions. I don’t have all the answers. Normally I would say pray about it, but I think you want a more immediate solution. I would advise you to talk to a counselor from Children’s Protective Services. I think they would be a start, but that could also be a terrible outcome. They tend to take an exceptionally long time to investigate issues. As for where you should live, I can’t answer that for you. Only you can decide that. I would like to think you would want to stay in the neighborhood you’ve lived in with your parents. And help those of your own kind instead of moving to an uppity, hoi polloi, high falutin’ neighborhood. I think maybe you might want to fix up your parents’ house and make it livable again. I am sure it could be done without too much expense.”

“Did you see the house after the drive-by? It looks like a war zone set from the movies. It will be anything but inexpensive to repair. As for helping out my own kind, what help have I ever gotten from my own kind? I didn’t see you come to visit me in the hospital. Did you even try to help with the memorial service? Oh, that’s right. There hasn’t been a memorial service. Why should I now help this community? Especially after this neighborhood may have helped destroy my house. I’m not sure I want to live in an unsafe neighborhood. So, we are back to where I came in. It feels like I’m wasting my time. I will take my leave now.”

“Wait a minute. You wanted my advice. I gave it to you. I’m sorry you feel as though you wasted your time. I think I gave you sound advice. It may not have been what you wanted to hear. But I honestly believe you need to come to terms with where you are going to live on your own. I said what I did concerning staying in the neighborhood because you could be a leader for this neighborhood. I think you have the makings of a man of destiny. You will probably be successful in the future, no matter where you live.

“And I am guessing that whatever career choice you make, you’ll make it to the top of your chosen field. I see you’ve committed to football. I saw you play last year. It wasn’t your best effort. If you want to be a success in the field, you’re going to have to put in more time and be disciplined.”

“I know that. I am already working out every morning, and I am getting into great shape. I want to be the starting quarterback in the fall.”

“That is just one example of what I am talking about. Why aren’t you trying to motivate the rest of the guys going out for the football team to join you in your quest to be the best? They won’t all be able to start, and they may not all be great, but they can all be better by the beginning of school. That’s what I mean by being a leader,” Pastor Jefferson said.

His words were making me think. I did want to be a leader. But did I have to live here to be a leader? Couldn’t I be a leader from Brighton Estates?

“What about rebuilding the house and living there? What’s wrong with that idea?”

“That house is too small, and it’s not safe here. Look at the drive-by. That should tell you I’m not safe here.”

“And you think that whoever shot up that house won’t be able to find you again if they really wanted to?” He asked the question like it was a matter of fact. “So, you go spend a bunch of money on a big house, and then you move in. And what if in a couple of weeks or a couple of months the same thing happens? I’m not saying that it’s a given that it will. I am only asking what if?”

I was shocked. I really hadn’t thought that whoever had done this would be able to find me. I was slipping. I got caught in the teenage trap of short-sightedness. Of course, Chaos could find me if they wanted. I’m sure the gang bangers would be able to find out where I was with just a few questions to people who knew me. Heck, all they needed to do is follow me home from school, and they’d know everything about the place.

“What about Uncle Lucas? I need to be able to trust him. And I don’t. I’m not sure I ever can. With what he said over the phone, I am sure I’ll be in danger, if not physically, then surely financial. Who can I ask to be my guardian? I don’t know of anyone right off the bat who’d be willing to take me, and I would be willing to live with them.”

“What about Mr. and Mrs. James?”

“I guess they could,” I replied nervously.

It was worth looking at, and maybe it would be nice to have a brother. I hadn’t considered the Jameses because I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. I wanted to get revenge against my uncle for what he said. Even if he didn’t have anything to do with the attempt on my life.

“I guess I need to talk to my attorney.”

After the conversation with the pastor, I called the real estate agent. She informed me that the owner had received another offer, which was considerably higher than mine. I found this to be both discouraging and a blatant lie. I was nearly sure of it, but I could not disprove it easily. Was there a way to prove it? I thought to myself.