Welcome to my Short Story section... Enjoy!
Most stories will be accompanied (followed) by discussion questions...
IT WAS LIKE the demon inside of me was all of a sudden awakened. It came outta nowhere. I was standing on the corner, smoking a cigarette, waiting for my friend who was supposed to be meeting me at the club. I thought he would’ve gotten there first, but he didn’t. Not wanting to look stupid, I walked over to the corner store and bought some cigarettes. I was in a neighborhood that was not my own. On top of that, it was late at night. These dudes didn’t know me and I didn’t know them. All I knew was that everybody seemed to be looking at me as if they were trying to figure out whether they wanted to rob me, jump me, stab me or shoot me.
I was nervous, borderline scared, but I knew better than to let that show. I felt like a gangster that had been dropped in the middle of a rival gang’s neighborhood. I wasn’t into that kinda stuff, but they didn’t know that. I decided that the most important thing was for me to be able to see everyone who could see me. So I backed myself into a corner, bent one leg and put my foot against the wall, pulled my hood up and fired up a cigarette. Even though I had no idea I was gonna end up in this situation, I still had a gun on me. Those who know me will tell you, I always have a gun on me. I guess I’m just a believer in Murphy’s Law: Anything that can go wrong will.
20 minutes ticked away, and my homeboy still hadn’t shown up. I called him two or three times, but I got no answer. My mind started playing tricks on me. I was thinking all kinds of crazy stuff like he might’ve helped somebody set me up. He might’ve gotten me to be at a designated place, at a designated time for somebody else. I couldn’t think of any enemies I had that would go through that much trouble to set me up. And I didn’t think he was down on his luck enough to set up his own homeboy no matter how much somebody may have offered him. All I knew was it was midnight, 30 minutes after he was supposed to meet me, and I was still posted up on a dark corner against a brick wall puffin’ a jack.
If he don’t show up in the next five minutes, I’m up outta here. That’s what I told myself. About three minutes later, my cell phone started vibrating. I reached down just knowing before I even looked at the phone that it was my boy calling to tell me that he had parked the car and was looking for me. But I was wrong. It was my cousin calling from outta town, asking me what I found to get into on a Saturday night. I guess the let down of it not being him pushed me over the edge. I told my cousin what had happened, but I didn’t stay on the phone long. As soon as I hung up, I started walking towards my car. I was parked about five blocks away from the corner I had been posted on for the the past 40 minutes or so.
About two blocks before I made it to my car, I was approached by three guys. The look in their eyes said it all. I could read their thoughts. He ain’t from around here, AND he by himself. This gon’ be easy! I knew they THOUGHT it was gon’ be easy, but they thought wrong. One of ’em said “Aight dog, you know what it is. Don’t make this have to get violent.”
I said, “I don’t want no trouble. Y’all do what you gon’ do and lemme get up outta here.”
One of ’em said, “now that’s what I’m talkin about” and started walking over to me. I guess my punkish words made him feel like he didn’t even have to be careful or nothing. He walked over to me smiling and started reaching in my pockets, checking for money. When he reached his left hand into my right pocket, I used my left hand to quickly grab him by his dreads. At the same time, I reached into the small of my back with my right hand and grabbed my .380 and put the barrel to his face. Both of his boys jumped back with their hands up. I had been carrying that .380 for at least two or three years, but this was the first time I ever had to pull it on somebody.
I smacked him across the face with the pistol, putting him right to sleep over a splattered mess of his own blood. Then I quickly lifted it and aimed it at the other two. That’s when all the begging started. “Dog, you got it… We don’t want no trouble… Take what you want… We ain’t even wit’ him!” It’s amazing how quick dudes can be to jump bad when they have the numbers, but once you even the playing field, you see how trickish they really are.
“Anybody still standing on this street in five seconds gettin’ shot. One…” I didn’t wanna shoot nobody, and I ain’t wanna rob nobody neither. But my heart was beating so fast from everything that had just happened that I didn’t know what I was about to do. I just wanted to run them off so I wouldn’t have to make that decision. One was knocked out, bleeding from where his teeth used to be. The other two were gone, and I was walking back to my car. When I saw that no one was looking, I tossed the gun into the sewer about 20 feet away from my car.
I hopped into the car, locked the door and took a deep breath. I put the key into the ignition, and just before I turned the car on… the phone rang.
IN HIS FEELINGS AGAIN
A Short Story by De’Wayne Simpson
Copyright © 2009
I WAS HIDING in the closet the whole time. They thought I was outside riding my bike, so they didn’t feel the need to act fake, like they normally do when I’m around. I was actually looking for my birthday present that I knew was hidden somewhere in my mom’s room. I heard my father come in the door, and they started arguing. I was already snooping around in the closet, so I just closed the door behind me. I didn’t close it all the way, but enough so no one could see that I was in there.
It all started with a simple question, “Where were you when I called last night?” Mom got mad. She told him that she didn’t have to answer to him or anyone else. “I was doin’ whatevr I felt like doin’ at the time… just like you were. So what, whenever you feel like you wanna talk to me or see me, I’m ’posed to just pull the thought out the wind and make myself available?! I don’t think so. There was a time when I was always available for you. That time is over. Newsflash – you ended it!”
I could feel the anger building up inside of my father. I started reaching around the closet, trying to find something that could be used as a weapon. As long as they were arguing, I was going to stay hidden in the closet, but the second it sounded like a fight, I would be right there in the middle of it. Nobody hits my momma, not even my father.
The arguing grew louder and more intense. I was sure they were about to fight, when all of a sudden, they paused. And then, less than a second later, I heard what they heard that made them pause. It was the sound of the tumblers turning in the front door. I cracked the door enough for me to see what was going on. My father looked at my mother. His facial expression said, “Who got a key to your house, woman?” My mother’s facial expression said, “Ahh hell, just when things couldn’t get any worse.”
Damon, my mother’s new boyfriend, was supposed to be taking me out that day to work on my running back drills for football practice. The only reason he had a key was because my mom was scheduled to be at work, and she didn’t want him standing around at the front door all day waiting for me to come home. Everything had just become twisted and tangled into a big mess. My dad and my mom had been separated for about a year, but you know how men are… once ours, always ours. He knew that he and my mom could never be, but he didn’t want her with anyone else either. I guess he figured, if she never got with another dude, then that must mean it was her fault that they didn’t work out. But if she could make it work with someone else, then that would mean it was his fault. Hey what do I know…
Well, my mom walked toward the door to make sure she was in between my dad and Damon after he came through the door. Damon recognized my dad immediately, from the pictures in my room. He tried to shake his hand and say “wassup,” but my dad just looked at his hand as if he smelled piss in the air. Then he looked him in the eyes with the same facial expression. Damon said, “Is there a problem?”
He was talking to my dad, but my mom answered, “Naw, it ain’t a problem. He was just leaving.”
My dad replied, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere; I’m waitin’ for Junior to get home.”
He had started to sit down when my mom grabbed him by the arm and said, “No, Damon is waiting for Junior. YOU are leaving, NOW!”
My dad began to walk towards the door. As he passed Damon he said, “Why don’t you come outside wit’ me for a second, bruh.”
“No problem,” said Damon. I knew what that meant. There was about to be a fight. I liked my dad and Damon. I didn’t want them to fight. I didn’t want my mom to have to deal with all that stress either. Plus, the landlord in my complex didn’t play all that. If there was a fight outside that could be linked back to us, we’d get put out for sure. I knew my dad. If he called somebody out, he would definitely back up his words. I knew Damon too. He would never back down from anyone. My mom sure knew how to pick ’em.
As soon as I heard them going through the front door, I hopped onto my feet, boldted out of the closet, and went straight to mom’s window. I opened the window all the way and climbed through it. I ran around the building. A few seconds later, they all saw me coming around the corner. I knew the one thing they wouldn’t do is fight in front of me… or at least that’s what I thought. I had to think quick. When I got close enough for them to hear me I screamed, “Damon, you late. You was ’posed to be here almost a half hour ago. I started to go without you. You ready? …Hey dad, what you doin’ here?”
My mom replied before anyone else could speak. “Your dad had to drop something off for me. He was just leaving. Tell him goodbye.”
I went over and shook my dad’s hand. “Aight dad, see you next time.”
My dad shook my hand and then started walking over towards his car. My mom called me over to her for a second before Damon and I left. She said, “Gon’ and start the car Damon; Junior’ll be right there.”
“Wassup?” I asked.
“Just one thing,” she said. “If you been outside around back all this time, how’d you know Damon just got here?”
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS:
1) Which characters do you feel did things wrong in this story? Which characters do you feel should have done things differently?
2) Junior figured out a way to handle the situation. Who else could have handled the situation before it reached that point?
3) If this story had a sequel, where do you think it would go next?
4) Do you think Junior's father's actions, reactions, thoughts, and words were normal for a man in his position?
5) If you were the author of this story, how would you change it in order to improve upon it?
WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?
A Short Story by De’Wayne Simpson
Copyright © 2009
THE FRONT DOOR swung open so hard that the mail fell off the shelf on the wall. Along with the cold winter air, Marcus entered the house. He took off his wet, snow-covered coat, hat and boots before attempting to walk upstairs to his room. A voice paused him at the bottom step. “Marcus? Marcus, baby, is that you?”
“Yeah, grandma… it’s me.”
“How was school today, baby?”
“It was cool… I’m a lil’ tired. I’ll come holla at you when I wake up.”
“Wake up?”
“Yeah. I’m ’bout to go take a nap.” That peaked Grandma’s curiosity. She was way up in her years, but she wasn’t a fool by any means. She had raised Marcus from the day his dad went to jail. Marcus had been with his grandmother for nine years. He could’ve gone and stayed with his mom, but he chose a different route. His mom, Brianna, began dating a man just after Marcus’s father went to prison. The man had four kids by his previous wife. They all lived with their father after he married Marcus’s mother. Marcus didn’t get along with any of them. He didn’t really like to deal with them when he visited his mother. He surely wasn’t going to live with them.
Marcus went upstairs and sat in the chair next to his bed. His feet were perched up on the trunk that sat in the corner of his room beneath the window. His grandmother came upstairs and stood in the doorway. She was only about four or five feet away from Marcus, but he didn’t notice her until she spoke.
“Ya know… I always know when something’s wrong wit’ you, even when you don’t wann’ tell me.”
“Oh yeah, grandma… how is that?”
“For one, I don’t get no kiss when you come in the house.”
“I’m sorry, grandma.” He stood up alongside the bed and stepped towards his grandmother. He gave her a hug and a kiss before returning to his seat. “So, everytime I come home and don’t give you a kiss, it means somethin’s wrong wit’ me?”
“Oh naw,” she said. “I jus’ wanted my sugar.”
He lauged a little before asking, “So how do you know?”
“Well,” she began as she walked over slowly and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Whenever you sit in your room without the television or the radio on, I know that there’s somethin’ wrong wit’ you.”
He thought about it for a second before choosing not to argue at all. He realized that she was exactly right. There was in fact something wrong with him. He sat on the bed next to his grandmother and asked her about herself. “What about you, grandma? How are you feelin’ today? You good?”
“I will be once you come clean wit’ me and stop keepin’ me up all nite wonderin’ ’bout what the problem is. Once you get to be my age, baby, you can feel what everyone around you is feelin’… even if they don’t wanna tell you.” That was the final straw. Marcus knew that he had to tell his grandmother what was happening, otherwise, the stress of trying to guess would kill her.
He stood up in front of his grandmother, looked down into her eyes and said, “Well… I’m eighteen-years-old now, grandma, and I feel like it’s time for me to start taking care of you. I mean, I’m grown now. You raised me to be a grown man, and I think it’s time I start actin’ like one.”
“You’re bein’ silly, Marcus. You do everything around here for me. You make sure everything in this house is always in working condition. You go to the store for me all the time. You keep the house clean. You keep the grass cut. You—”
“Grandma, all of that is all well and good, but—” He thought about what he was getting ready to say. He saw her sitting there, staring deep into his soul, awaiting what would be the truth. He just didn’t know if she could handle hearing it. Although, he didn’t know if she could handle not hearing it either.
Marcus sat down next to his grandmother and said, “Grandma, I know that you haven’t been payin’ the mortgage around here for the past few months. I was outside cutting the grass one day, and this guy walked up. He told me he was there representing the bank and that the house would soon be foreclosed on if we couldn’t show both the intent and the means of catching up with the mortgage… I know you didn’t tell me because you wanted to protect me, but I’m not a little kid anymore. I also know that your savings have run out, and you’ve been gettin’ by just on what you get from the life insurance people. I can’t sit back and watch you lose everything that you and grandpa worked so hard for.”
He took a deep breath and continued. “So… I decided I had to find a way to support myself and you and right away. So I hopped on the train, went downtown and enlisted in the army. The way I see it, if it was good enough for granddad, then it’s good enough for me… Please, grandma, don’t try to keep me from doing this. I’ve thought it through completely, and it’s the only option that allows me to do everything I should be doing.”
There was so much his grandmother could’ve said and probably wanted to, but she didn’t All she said did was look away from her grandson and say, “When your grandfather joined the army, he told me that it was for me too. And I asked him, if all I want is you to be here with me, then how could you leave me for me… I never forgave the army for what they did to your father. They teach him how to kill and then send him out to do it. Then the one time he had to use what he learned to defend himself, they just left him in that place to rot… Now, they takin’ you away from me too.”
“But grandma, I can’t think of anything else I can do to make the money we need to get out of this corner life done backed us into. I don’t have no skills that pay this good. I can’t afford to go to college. And even if I could, we can’t afford to wait another four years to make some money. Grandma, you just gon’ have to trust me on this one.”
“I do, baby… I do. Besides, if it’s one thing I know about you Martinson-men, it’s that once you make up your minds, my words won’t mean anything.”
“Your words mean everything to me, Grandma… They just won’t alter my path.”
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS:
1) What do you feel Marcus should do, go into the army and financially support his grandmother or stay home and be with her?
2) This is the first short story about Marcus Martinson, so you don't know but so much about him. What images of Marcus has your mind imagined? What do you think of him as a person?
3) Do you feel like his grandmother did the right thing by allowing him to stay with her and not live with his mother?
4) How do you think Marcus's father has affected the adult Marcus is becoming (or has become)?
5) Where do you see this story going next?
