“Man, come on with all that. I was in my house big chilling.”
“Nah, you da man. You da shit, my dawg. Get out my truck and show me what the fuck you made of, Hollis!” I snatched him by his T-shirt and pulled him from the truck.
His eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “Yo. You wildin’, H-Town!” he screeched.
I shoved him. “Nah, your punk ass is wildin.’ Is this what all the time we’ve spent together over the last year meant to you? You out here bullying women and people who are trying to make a decent living? Huh?” I asked, shoving him a couple of times.
He backed up. “Yo, I ain’t trying to fight you.”
“That’s the least of what you’re trying to do, Hollis, with the shit you just pulled.” I walked up on him until I was in his face. “Because if you had been any other nigga, you’d be lying in that field stankin’.”
“What?”
“I would’ve put a bullet in ya ass for fuckin’ with what’s mine!”
His eyebrows lifted, and he raised his hands. “Yo, I didn’t know that was you. I’m sorry.”
“That don’t matter, Hollis!” I shouted at him. “In the big scheme of things, you shouldn’t be doing that to nobody. What the fuck are you doing with your life? Kena’s life? Your kid on the way doesn’t need a dead daddy or one locked the fuck up.”
He dropped his head and held it in his hands. I paced for a few minutes, trying to calm down. When I finally did, Hollis was staring at me with his chest heaving, and tears falling from his eyes. He was angry, but he was a good kid.
“The fuck you crying for?” I demanded, thinking of how my chest squeezed tight seeing Baby in the condition she’d been in when I arrived at her bakery and how difficult it had been to console her.
“Man, I’m trying, but I’ve been struggling to find a job so that I can provide for my kid when he gets here. What kind of role model will I be if I can’t buy a bag of diapers?”
“What kind will you be if you’re locked up or dead?”
“At this point, being in his life will bring more harm than good.”
“Do you want this kid?”
“Yes!” He slapped his fist against his palm in frustration.
“Then you need to be willing to show up for him, and that starts before the baby is born.”
“I’ve applied for all the jobs, but they turned me down because of my juvie record for skipping school or not having experience.”
“Here’s what’s about to happen: I’m going to hire you. Not because I feel sorry for you or your circumstances, but because I see the good in you. I see a lot of you in me, with some exceptions. Clearly, I never had a kid, but I did get into some trouble because of the poor choices I was making, and nobody wanted to take a chance on me.
“I’ll hire you at the shop to work, but only if you’re going to school. That shit is non-negotiable. First, you have to return to the bakery, apologize to Tegan, and make shit right with her. If she doesn’t feel comfortable with you working across the street from her, then you’re not going to get hired. You feel me?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. If you’d have been any other nigga, ya daddy would’ve been making funeral arrangements for ya ass for threatening my woman.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry don’t fix shit. You stepped to the wrong one, and one day, someone won’t be as forgiving as I am, and they won’t believe in second chances. I want you to think about all this, and you need to decide about what you’re gonna do with your life.I’m not forcing you to do anything; it’s on you, but those are my terms.”
We stood staring at each other for a while before he spoke again. “Man, this shit is hard, and ain’t nobody ever believed in me the way you do, ’cept for my daddy.”
“Then keep giving me something to believe in.”
He nodded, and a little seed of hope started flourishing within me. As angry as I was at him for what he did, I also cared about him, his family, and his future a great deal. I wanted to see him succeed. Hollis was the little brother I never had.
“A’ight, Harlem. I’ll make it right with her.”
“Get ya ass in the truck,” I muttered.
