Ishmael’s hand hardly left my thigh. Not inside his mother’s home and not in the car on the way to his home.
“Yes.”
Mentally, I began organizing my calendar to include a week-long visit to the island. Everything needed to be rearranged.
“She’s lovely,” I yawned.
“My mother?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“She is.”
I wasn’t sure when I’d fallen asleep. Neither was I sure how long I’d been asleep. Soft tunes played in the background. The car’s engine was still running. However, we weren’t moving.
I lifted my seat using the button on the side. The point of the trip where I’d reclined was blurry. I didn’t remember lowering the seat.
“Hey?” I groaned, peering at Ishmael.
We faced the brick home with a perfectly manicured yard. My surroundings were familiar. So was the man beside me. He stared straight ahead in deep thought.
“Is everything okay?”
Ishmael shrugged.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m beginning to wonder if this race was truly for Berkeley to meet their next mayor or for me to meet you.”
“Is–”
“Since that night, Royce, I’ve faced one deterrent after the other. While my confidence in my ability to lead Berkeley hasn’t wavered, my confidence in the voters have. It doesn’t matter how much good I’ve done or how much I’ve invested in the youth of this city, they’ll only remember those headlines.
“False accusations. And, quite honestly, the work I do won’t change. It won’t. No matter if I’m in office or just a nigga who cares. The work won’t stop. It won’t change. So, again, I’ve been wondering if his race was for Berkeley or just a part of our fate.”
“Both. What if it’s both?”
I lifted a hand to his chin and pulled it in my direction.
“It can be both, baby.”
“I’ve been trying to go about this the right way. I don’t think I’ve ever fought fair in my lifetime. Daniels is no saint, which makes this shit even more challenging. He’s killing our neighborhoods and the children’s chance at a bright future.
“He’s going to be the death of Berkeley. I can’t let that happen, Royce. I won’t. Should he win, retirement won’t be able to keep me grounded.”
“He won’t win.”
Ishmael nodded. “He won’t.”
SIXTEEN
Election Night…
“Shhhhhh! Everybody shut the fuck up!” Indigo yelled.
“You shut the fuck up, toothpick!” Roulette’s rebuttal caused us all to chuckle.
