into when I first walked into the church.
âYo . . . I cried, Sabine,â I said with a slight smile on my face.
âItâs all right, baby. Thereâs nothing wrong with that.â
âYeah, there isnât,â I said after I thought for a moment. âSabine, I canât watch them put Richie into the ground. I just canât watch that!â
âItâll be all right, Mark,â Sabine reassured me, calling me by my real name. âIâll be with you.â
Again I started to cry as Sabine gestured for my hand and helped me out of the limo. Together we walked across the grass and toward the spot where everyone was standing. A cemetery service was taking place for Richie.
Since it was still drizzling from earlier, everyone was forced to stand under this tent. The coffin was decorated with all types of flowers. A few people spoke and then I realized that they werenât going to put Richie into the ground right away, at least not until all of the rain had completely stopped. The electrical equipment which was used to lower the coffin into the ground might have gotten wet and caused problems.
As everyone started to disperse back to their cars, I took one more long look at the coffin, shook my head, and turned to walk back to the limo. Once inside the limo, I started to panic. Yo, I forgot to write Richie a poem, I thought. I didnât have the time to write what I wanted to write and what I had promised myself that I would write, but I asked Sabine for a piece of tissue and a pen, and then I scribbled this poem:
To Richie
Look into the world Tell me what you see. Maybe you see hope Maybe you see me. I certainly see fear I certainly see despair,
Despair is sure to be me. Definite is hope, Hope waiting to be set free. I know the better of these But which one will I find? Maybe just maybe itâll be hope.
Only if you help me, Richie, Help me find the grace of God.
Love Mark
I got out of the limo and ran back over to the gravesite. I tossed the piece of tissue and I watched it softly float to the spot where the casket would be set into the ground. That way it would be waiting for Richie when he got there. I looked at the coffin one last time.
âRichie, youâre with God now,â I said. âSo donât worry about a thing. Youâll be aâight. We love you.â Then I yelled as loudly as I could, âFourth crew!â as I jogged back jogged back to the limo.
The limo ride back home was slow because it started to rain very hard. It was raining about as hard as it did on the night Richie was killed. I remember thinking how it was a good thing that it had rained on the night Richie was murdered, simply because the rain helped to wash away the blood stains that were left on the concrete from Richieâs wound.
Fourth Crew
The funeral was finally over. Iâd taken off my suit and I put on my baggy jeans along with my high-top green and white Nike Airs. I then placed my gold caps into my mouth and I clipped my beeper to my pants.
âPaula! Paula! If Ma is looking for me, let her know that Iâll probably be at Randyâs house, or I might still be over Richieâs crib eating dinner, aâight?â
âOK, be careful,â my sister hollered back as she told me that she would be dropping by as well.
With that, I walked across the street to Randyâs house and knocked on his door. I called out for him to come open the door. Randy had been slow at everything heâd ever done in his entire life, so finally, after about five minutes of knocking, he opened the door for me.
âYo, man, you ainât change your clothes yet?â I asked as I followed him into his basement. Randy still had the same clothes on that heâd worn to the funeral.
âYo, hurry up, man! Everybodyâs already at Richieâs house. His family cooked dinner for us. We gotta bounce.âAs Randy switched outfits we started kickinâ it