If I Grow Up Read Free

Raven’s son?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAnyone else know about this?”
    I shook my head. “No, sir.”
    Marcus slowly squeezed the window guard until it doubled over. The skin of his dark hands tightened and his knuckles bulged. The metal creaked until it formed a V , like the V in the furrows of skin between his eyesas he fixed them on me. “Know what happens to kids who snitch to the police?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œI can trust you?”
    I nodded. “What about Darnell?”
    â€œI’ll take care of that,” Marcus said. “Meanwhile this is our secret, understand?”
    I understood.
    IF I GROW UP
    â€œWho was that?” Precious asked when I returned to the bench where she was talking to Terrell.
    Her eyes widened when we told her. “You Disciples?”
    â€œNot yet,” Terrell answered.
    Even in the sun, the cold gradually seeped through your clothes. Precious shivered and hugged herself. “You want to come to my place and watch TV?”
    It was tempting. Neither Terrell nor I had ever been invited into a girl’s home before.
    â€œMaybe another time,” I said. Terrell scowled at me, and I nodded toward Marcus’s car. The corners of my friend’s mouth turned down.
    Precious’s pretty lips pursed. “See you later.” She started across the yard toward her building.
    Terrell and I rode around the yard, always keeping Marcus’s car in sight. I asked him how Laqueta was, and he said she’d cried all night.
    â€œJamar stay with her?” I asked.
    Terrell shook his head. He got off his bike and started sliding around on a frozen puddle, leaving white scratchesin the dirty, brownish ice. “If I grow up, I’m gonna have a ride like Marcus’s,” he said through chattering teeth. He must’ve been freezing, wearing only that hoodie. “And chains and bling like you wouldn’t believe. You know Rance got a solid gold chain that weighs five pounds?”
    â€œHow do you know that?” I asked. Rance Jones was the leader of the Gentry Gangstas. I’d never seen him, and I was pretty sure Terrell hadn’t either.
    â€œI heard from someone,” Terrell said. “And he got a twenty-five-karat diamond pinkie ring. Them Gangstas use kids nine, ten years old.”
    â€œMaybe you should join them Gangstas,” I joked.
    Terrell gave me a sour look. “Marcus is my first cousin. He should let me join the Disciples.”
    â€œAnd get jumped in?” I asked. To prove you’d be loyal to the gang, you had to let yourself be beaten up and burned with cigarettes.
    Terrell shrugged. “Everybody else been through it.”
    On Abernathy Avenue, a police cruiser stopped behind Marcus’s car. The window went down, and Officer Patterson wagged a thick, brown finger at us. He was the only person I’d ever heard of who’d grown up in Frederick Douglass and become a cop. I slipped off the bench and went to see what he wanted.
    â€œHow you doing, DeShawn?” he asked. He had a round face and a thick, bushy mustache. Growing up, he’d known my mother, and he always said hello when he saw me.
    â€œOkay.” I leaned in the open window. The car smelledlike coffee. A shotgun and a computer were mounted next to the driver’s seat. Officer Patterson nodded at the Mercedes. “Marcus was that little boy’s uncle, right?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œGive him my condolences, okay?”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œTell him I’m sorry about his nephew.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Officer Patterson took a sip of coffee from a paper cup and brushed his mustache with the back of his hand.
    â€œGonna join the Disciples someday?”
    â€œNo, sir. Gonna stay in school and out of trouble.”
    â€œGood boy.” Officer Patterson reached over and patted me on the shoulder. Then he drove off. I went back to the bench.
    â€œWhat do