Last Year Before Reality Excerpt
by Conrad Prophet
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Chapter 1
“Do you see where your brother Jack is now? Another reason why he’s there is because he doesn’t have the brains to do for himself. He has to follow behind someone like a lost puppy. When you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take your there. What you two have to understand is that this world is full of followers. Please don’t be one. I want both of you to be leaders. Make a difference, at least in your own lives.”
“Yes, Mama.” both of them answered.
“Marcus, your brother was arrested last month for armed robbery and first degree murder. He’s been in the county jail since then, waiting for his trial.”
For fifteen minutes Mrs. Davis told the story to Marcus while Rene stared at the clock on the wall.
“I want both of you to be careful who you call your friend. Jack and those other black men thought Daniel was their friend. Anytime a person thinks he or she is better than you because of the color of his or her skin, that person will never respect you. Also, don’t be jumping in cars with anyone, not knowing where you are going. I’m finished, Rene. Are you happy?”
“It’s about damn time.”
Rene’s mouth dropped as he saw the expression on his mother’s face.
Ah shit. I didn’t mean to say “Damn!” Rene thought.
It was too late.
“Rene, I warned you about cursing in my presence! Your behind is mine!”
She lunged at him, but he jumped from the couch and ran for the door. Gripping the knob, he felt a sharp pain in his back. He turned around and was met with a slap. A smirk formed on his face.
“You can’t hurt me, Mama! I’m a man! Your slap can’t hurt this beautiful, black face you gave me.”
She reached back and slapped him again. The impact of her palm against his face caused her hand to sting. He stood there as Marcus grimaced, imagining the pain.
“All this slapping doesn’t faze me because I know this is your way of showing you love me. Don’t worry about me hitting you back. I love you too much to ever hit you.”
“Shut up, Rene! Just shut up!” she screamed through her hands as they covered her face.
“I’d rather you take your frustrations out on me than on Marcus.”
Marcus nodded his head in agreement.
Mrs. Davis swung again. This time, Rene caught her hand and kissed her softly on the cheek.
“Mama, you can’t cause me any physical pain because the streets of Rock Bottom have made me strong. Daddy made me mentally strong. The only way you can hurt me is to tell me that you don’t love me and mean it.”
“You’re just like your father! Don’t know when to shut up! If he would have kept his mouth shut just one time, maybe he’d still be alive today!”
“You’re right, Mama. I’m just like my father and proud of it! If he had been quiet like you wanted, he would have lived the life of a punk! But he died a proud, strong black man. Not kissing anybody’s ass! That’s how I’m going to die! A proud black man, just like Daddy!” he said, pounding his fist into his chest and opening the door.
“Then take your ‘proud’ self to work and don’t slam the …”
SLAM!
The house remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only five minutes. Tears ran down Marcus’ face as he gathered enough courage to approach his mother.
“You alright, Mama?”
“Go in your room and do your homework.”
“School hasn’t started yet, Mama. I don’t have any homework.”
“Go take a nap then.”
He walked back to his room. Mrs. Davis continued to sit on the couch holding her face in her hands. As she looked up to stare at the family photo on the mantle, tears rolled down her face. Her husband was dead, one son was in jail, and her volatile middle child Rene was a time bomb waiting to explode on the world. Every morning and night, she prayed to God to watch over him. Since the first day of Rene’s freshman year at Rockwell High School, she cringed whenever the phone rang. She expected to one day receive a call that he had killed one of the white students, or that one of them had killed him. Rene was right about how similar his personality and temperament were to his father’s.
Born and raised in Little Rock, Arkansas, Mr. Davis had been an outspoken man. Like his father, he had never been a subservient southerner like many of the other black people. While Mr. Davis was growing up, he was never forced to work in the fields like the other children who sharecropped with their parents. He attended school. His father was determined to make sure his son didn’t have to labor in the blazing Arkansas sun all of his life, as he had been forced to do.
But Mr. Davis had difficulties emulating the “happy-go-lucky-black-man” mentality exhibited for the comfort of white people in the South. He broke every unwritten rule between the races. While most black people quickly moved from the sidewalk into the street and lowered their heads to avoid eye contact when a white person approached, Mr. Davis continued walking with his head up. The white people would see the confidence and pride in his face and become intimidated. His father taught him that everyone was created equal, and that the achievement of a person when faced with adversity determined the better man. This was the same philosophy Mr. Davis taught his sons and the same philosophy that eventually led to his death.
Chapter 5
The ride to Amber’s house was difficult for Bridgette. She had seen women abused on television and heard about it happening to Amber before, but she did not believe it until tonight.
“Girlfriend, will you please tell me why you stay with Mike? You know your parents told you he was too old for you,” Bridgette asked, while she continued to look ahead, trying to avoid looking into Amber’s eyes and seeing the pain she was in.
“He loves me,” Amber said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“He loves abusing you. That is what he loves.” Bridgette was raising her voice. She could no longer contain her anger or hold back her tears. “Every time the two of you are together, he never respects you. Always calling you ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes.’ I don’t know where you got the idea that a man doesn’t love you unless he beats you and calls you out of your name. If that’s what love is, a man better never love me. You should not be getting hit by your man. Another thing. You sit next to me at church every Sunday. Do you listen to Rev. Hayes talk about how a man should love a woman? What Mike does to you isn’t love. No woman should be getting hit by her so-called ‘man.’”
Bridgette had to wipe her own tears before she was able to continue. “Does your father hit you?”
It was difficult for Amber to answer. “No,” she finally said.
“Then how can any other man justify hitting you?” Bridgette asked.
She did not answer.
“Amber, I will tell a brother in a minute that my father doesn’t hit me. It lets the brother know that if my father doesn’t hit me, he better not even think about doing it.”
They reached Amber’s house. Bridgette pulled up in the driveway. No one moved. They sat there staring into the night.
“Is your father home?” Bridgette asked, trying not to make eye contact.
Between sniffles, Amber answered. “He is out of town on business. He won’t be back until next weekend.”
“What is he going to do when he finds out what happened tonight?”
“He said he would kill anyone who ever touched me,” Amber answered.
“Good,” Bridgette said.
“What are you talking about? I love Mike, and he said he loves me.”
“True love doesn’t hurt, Amber. Do you see how your father loves your mother? That is true love, Amber. What Mike is showing isn’t love. It is abuse. He is too old to be talking to a high school student anyway. In all honesty, what can a seventeen-year-old girl do for a supposedly grown man, other than give him money and sex. You need to pray that God gives you wisdom and removes the spirit of stupidity from you.”
“You’re right, Bridgette.”
Bridgette held out her arms to console Amber. They cried together.
“Thanks for the ride,” Amber said.
“Do me a favor.” Bridgette said.
“What?”
“Find a young man your age that believes in God. But before you find a man, you need to establish a closer relationship with God. Once you know the love of the Lord, you will know in your heart that not only do you deserve, but that you should only accept unconditional love and true respect from a man. You don’t deserve what happened to you tonight. No woman deserves to be verbally, physically, and mentally abused.”
Amber got out of the car and closed the door gently. She took her time walking to the front door. Bridgette waited until Amber was safely in the house before leaving. As she pulled out of the driveway, she felt tears rolling down her face again. Amber tried to be as quiet as possible entering the house. She turned the key slowly, not wanting to wake her mother. She closed the door and locked it. Then she took off her shoes and headed for the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move.
“Mama, what are you doing up?” she asked.
“I was unable to sleep. I kept having a feeling that someone I love was in pain.”
Amber began to cry again. Her mother got out of the chair and turned on the light. What she saw made her grab her chest. It was difficult for her to breathe.
Do you want to know what happens next?
If so, order Last Year Before Reality now.
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