Knockout Games (17 page)

“You got no right to be here,” said Kalvin. “You ain't a cop and I don't go to Truman anymore.”

Jamison raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so you're admitting you no longer go to school. Does your mother know that?”

“Don't be playing my moms. She knows I'm good,” Kalvin said.

Jamison smirked. “I seriously doubt that.” Boner continued to growl, and Jamison seemed ready to strangle him.

Kalvin ignored him. “That dog is trained to kill, yo.”

Jamison looked at Kalvin's mom. “Mrs. Barnes, I'm here as a favor. Next time it won't be me; it'll be SLPD. I'm trying to look out for my kids—” he stole a look at Kalvin, who was about to say something. “The kids at Truman, who have been involved in these Knockout Games.”

Kalvin's mom piped in. “Kal don't go in for these kinds of things. He works that all out at the Rec Center.”

“Is that what he tells you?” He turned his attention back to Kalvin. “I don't know if you heard or not, but we had a little chat with Prince Rodriguez this afternoon. Know him?”

Kalvin shrugged.

“Yeah, apparently he was part of that whole water balloon incident last night—”

“For reals, Mr. Jamison?” interrupted Kalvin. “Why don't you arrest me for stealing lollipops?”

Jamison was not amused. “You know someone knocked out a city councilman that night?”

Kalvin looked confused.

Jamison brightened. “Oh, you haven't heard yet? Well, apparently your pal Prince was identified as a possible perp and in our discussions, one name kept coming up: the Knockout King. Ring any bells?”

“Yeah, it's one of those old-school video games my pops use ta play.” He pretended to box from the couch.

“Nice tat,” Jamison said, pointing at his fist. “Coincidence?”

Kalvin pulled his hand away. “You gonna have to do better than that.”

His mom cut in. “He's a boxer, and you know it. He won a bunch of fights, so they started calling him that. I told him he shouldn't deface his body, but he was so proud.”

Jamison glowered at him. “That's a nice story and I'm sure it'll play in front of a jury.”

Again, Kalvin scoffed. “Ain't no juries in Family Court.”

Jamison was impressed. “That's right, Kalvin, there aren't. But there are in
adult
court, which is where you'll end up, Einstein.” Jamison leaned into his face. “Like father, like son. Do I have to explain it? The man beat it into you.”

Kalvin jumped up off the couch, ready for action. Boner started barking. Kalvin's mom stepped between him and Jamison. “Kal, no! Don't let him make you do something stupid. He's just baiting you.”

Kalvin calmed himself and held out his wrists. “You ain't got nothing on me; otherwise, you'd be here with a cop, arresting my ass now. So you just making noise is all.”

Jamison stood up to his full height, one eye on Kalvin, one on his mom. “OK, tough guy, this is where we part, then. You had a chance to go to Grant Remedial and get back on track. But you've stayed away. And now, I don't have to bait you into doing something stupid. You'll screw up on your own and when that happens, the cops will be the ones standing here. Then, you won't be so cocky. You sure you have nothing to say to me? I'm your last chance.”

Kalvin nodded. “Yeah. One thing.
Good-bye
.” He waved him off like a rich person waving off the help.

Jamison walked up to Kalvin's mom. “I know he's involved,” he said. “The question is, are you going to help him by coming forward, or wait until somebody dies and he's charged for murder?”

She didn't say anything; she just opened the door for him to leave.

“Alright then,” said Jamison. “My job is done here.”

Kalvin ignored him. When the door closed and the footsteps drifted down the stairwell, Mrs. Barnes sat down next to him.

“Kal, I don't want to lose another person in this family to prison. If you have anything to say to me, please say it now. You know I'll back you. Are you involved in all this?”

Kalvin took a deep breath, even managed a smile. He put his hand on hers. “Mom, I ain't going to no jail. I ain't dealing; I ain't in a gang; and I ain't killed no one. And I plan to keep it that way. I'm gonna get back into school, graduate, and apply to college, like I said. That's bank, Mom. What he's saying . . . that's just lies. We're just messing around, having fun, and they don't like it. But I'm a good boy, Mama.” On cue, Boner hopped up into Kalvin's lap and licked his face.

She patted his hand. “I know you are, son. As long as you're trying to better yourself, I'll be on your side.”

“I did mess up one thing, though.”

His mom lowered her head. “What's that, son?”

“I messed up with that girl in there. She trusted me and I kind of screwed it all up.”

I almost believed him.

“Well, what do you do when you mess up, Kal?”

He knew the answer, which they said together like they'd practiced it a hundred times before.

“You make it better.”

She stood. “I'm going to the store. You spend time with that girl and make things right, ya hear?”

“I will, Mom.”

When she left, Kalvin just sat there petting his dog. After a minute, he said, “I know you're listening.”

I opened the door and walked over to him, plopped down on the couch. This day just kept getting stranger and stranger. “What're you going to do?”

“About us?” He moved his hand over toward me, but I didn't take it.

“About the cops,” I said.

That stopped him. He got up and went to the window, overlooking his kingdom. “I gotta do some cleaning up. Prince shouldn'ta disobeyed me. And Joe Lee, well, he'll have to learn that sometimes speaking out only makes things worse.”

I got up to leave. He didn't move from the window. Before I stepped out the door, I asked, “Is it true you wrote a poem for me?”

He didn't even look at me. “I don't write poems. I take care of business. You do what you gotta do.”

25

The next morning, I woke up antsy and paranoid. I hadn't slept much all night and when I did, all I had were weird dreams. I dreamt Kalvin's dad was teaching me how to fight. After he showed me a thing or two, he wanted me to prove myself by knocking out Kalvin. I couldn't bring myself to do it. “It's okay,” he said. “He deserves it.” When his dad yelled at me to do it, I jumped off the roof and landed in the park where the Metal Detector Man saw me and started chasing me, yelling, “You did it! I know it was you!”

I sat on my bed feeling like they were on to me. Who
they
were, I wasn't sure. Jamison? Kalvin? Rodney Graves said arrests would be made. Did they already know everything? I was about to call Destiny, but what if they tapped the phone? That was followed by,
How would they know to tap my phone
?

I was already late for school, but I got on to my Facebook page. First thing I did was delete any video that had anyone from the TKO club in it. I kept refreshing and logging on and off until I was sure they were gone.

Then I remembered Destiny had shared them and who knows who else shared hers. I panicked. Jumped on Google and luckily figured out that deleting got rid of the shared videos too.

After they were deleted, I grabbed my camera and deleted everything on that as well. And then I thought about my computer. Everything was on there too. Should I delete my hard drive?
Yes
.

I was losing my mind.

In that moment I thought of Destiny. I couldn't lose her. I needed to talk to someone and the only someone who might understand was royally pissed off at me.

I texted anyway.

Me:
R we ok?

I sent it off. I waited. And waited. No response.

She was normally quick to answer. That was it. I could take a hint. I didn't want to go back to having no friends. I'd let her chill twenty-four hours, then try talking to her again.

I could call up Mom. She'd be at work, all stressing as she usually does. What was I gonna say? I know what Dad would say:
Your problem, you deal with it
.

And that's when somebody pounded on my door. “Open up, police.”

My heart stopped. I looked out my second-story window. I could jump. Maybe onto a car so I didn't break an ankle. I pictured my mom getting a phone call about how either I broke both my legs from the jump or I was in jail or—

Then I heard someone snickering.

Jesus
. I walked closer to the door and now the person was laughing pretty hard.

I peered through the peephole. Prince was standing there, his head shaved.

I flung the door open and smacked him in the shoulder. “You scared the shit outta me!” I hissed.

He held up his hands. “
'Spensa
—my bad, Fish. I couldn't help myself. It was too easy.”

I gawked at his pale skull. It made his whole head seem smaller. “Nice look, by the way.”

“Gotta adapt,” is all he said as he walked past me. His eyes scanned the room. He was not impressed. “I really had you scared, didn't I?”

Why was he here? “How come you're not in jail?”

“How come you're not in school?”

I tried not to look panicky. “I wasn't feeling good.”

He shrugged. “They couldn't pin anything on me. It was dark. They showed my picture to a couple of witnesses, but they were old and didn't see so well, so they couldn't pin it on me. Besides, Destiny was my alibi. We were ‘studying' together that night.”

I didn't want to know what that meant. “But it was you, right?”

He smirked. “Got any beer?”

I crossed my arms. “It's morning.”

“Doritos?”

I shook my head. “What. Do. You. Want?”

He crashed on our couch, spreading out. “K sent me.”

“K sent you? Aren't you on his shit list?”

He glared at me. “We had a talk.” He grunted painfully as he sank into my couch. “He's seeing things more my way now.”

“Really.” I said. “What's he want, then? He can't text anymore?”

He shrugged. “Just being safe. Don't know when the cops're listening.” Prince cleared his throat. He didn't act so cocky. “Our idea is not to pull back.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, we go out again on Saturday.” He leaned forward. “Play Knockout.
BAM!
” He performed an epic knockout punch for me.

I stared at him for a good ten seconds. “Are you. . . as stupid as I think you are? Didn't you just get questioned by Jamison and that cop?”

He was annoyed by my questions. “Yeah, and what happened?
Nada
. K said what you said. At first. Then I reminded him that the Knockout King don't run from nobody. See, they expect their little threat will be enough to scare off the Tokers. But not K and not me. Are you kidding? We thrive on that shit.”

“Yeah, well you can count me out. I'm done.”

He was trying to see if I was bluffing. “Destiny's coming,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

He leaned back again, shaking his head. “You got
huevos
, I'll give you that. If I had my own crew, I'd want you on my side too. Though I hear things are not so good for you at the moment.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I personally could give a shit one way or the other. But if you're not there, I'm sure Destiny will step up and take your spot.”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

He stood and moved toward the door, stopping just short. “Tell me. What did you feel when I pounded on the door and yelled ‘Police'? You probably thought of all kinds of crazy shit. Should I grab a knife? Hide? Jump out the window?”

He saw my reaction to that last one and smiled. “Uh-huh. At that moment,
anything
coulda gone down. One minute you was just sitting there, the next—you were a
chola
thinking of becoming a fugitive, right?”

“That doesn't mean I like it.”

He didn't believe me. “I seen that look in your eye, when you hit that metal detector guy. The way you stayed behind with K on the roof.”

“So?”

“So you like it. Don't lie.”

He opened the front door. “I'll tell ya something else:
chinga la juda
—fuck the police. They don't scare me. They want to change the rules? Fine. We can change too.” He poked me in the chest. “We're making a statement on Saturday, so you better show up next to the library on Grand Avenue. Eleven a.m. Otherwise, those who don't play,
get played
.”

“Is that a threat?”

“You're smart. Figure it out,” he said, walking away.

26

At nine o'clock, Mom woke me up. It was already bright out; for a second I thought I'd overslept.

“It's Saturday,” she said. “I made breakfast. Come eat before I go to sleep.”

I stumbled out of bed and plopped myself down at the kitchen table. She'd made pancakes. When she served me, she paused for a second, looking at something on my neck.

We sat there eating in silence, but something was on her mind. Finally, she said, “What's on your neck?”

I touched it. “What?”

“Looks like a hicky,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

My face felt hot. “I probably bruised myself when I fell the other day.”

I should've had a better comeback. “I used to fall too, when your dad first dated me.”

“It's not like that.”

She sighed. “Well, it was going to happen, so . . .”

She wasn't mad, maybe a bit sad. “One day, I'll wake up and have missed all your teen years.” She put her hand on my arm. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Probably not anything
. “Yeah . . .,” I said.