16. Corinthians
Corinthians
“Let’s go, Mercy!” Madea yelled as she jumped from her seat. “Shoot the ball, baby!”
Mercy shot the ball, making it, and Madea and Granddaddy cheered.
Her daddy sat at the bottom of the stands, barely able to keep from yelling.
Every time Mercy got the ball, he was telling her what to do, where to shoot from, or clapping.
He loved watching her play basketball, and Mercy was good at it.
She was one of the few girls on the team who looked like they wanted to be there.
“What’s wrong with you?” Exodus asked. He was originally sitting next to Krude, but kept getting in trouble, so Madea made him sit next to Psalms and me.
“Nothing,” I answered, watching Mercy. Her coach pulled her and her teammate, Vine, aside while the other team was shooting free throws. Vine was good, too.
“Nah, you've been quiet,” Exodus said, shaking his head. He leaned back on the stands and crossed his arms. “What's up? Talk to me.”
“I’m just tired,” I told him.
“You been boxing a lot lately?” he asked, and I nodded. “I heard yo daddy telling Uncle Mathew that Cross was going to be training like you do soon. I asked Madea about me joining, and she said she would talk to Uncle Ruben about it first and get all the information.”
“You don’t want to box,” I said, shaking my head.
I looked down at my parents. They were the farthest away, talking to each other.
It looked like they were in a serious conversation.
Every once in a while, Daddy would shake his head or wipe his hands down his face, and Mama would look over at us.
She looked sad, while Daddy was annoyed. “Trust me, you don’t want to.”
“Nah, I think I do,” Exodus replied. “Madea said I can't play football like I want, and I need to hit something.”
“Play hockey,” I suggested.
“Black people don’t play hockey,” he denied with a laugh.
“The rec center has a hockey team,” I reminded him. “And everybody in there is black.”
“I pass,” he laughed. “I think I’ll do boxing with you and Cross.”
The buzzer sounded, and we stood. Mercy’s team lost, but the game was close.
We walked down the stands and to the door where we always waited for her.
Madea and Granddaddy had already planned to take us to their house for the night.
Our parents were going out for a big group date. They hadn’t been on one in a while.
“There goes my basketball star!” Granddaddy said when Mercy came out of the locker room. Granddaddy knelt and took her flip-flops from the bag he was carrying. Mercy took off her basketball shoes, handed them to him, then put on the flip-flops. “You did good, kiddo.”
“Coach said I need to work on my defense,” she said, shaking her head. She looked over at her daddy, who was watching her closely. His arms were folded, and he looked upset.
“He’s right,” her daddy agreed. “You let the same girl get past you three times. That girl ain’t better than you; she just saw you were being lazy, and her coach used it against you. I would’ve pulled you the first time she got past you.”
“Let that girl be,” Granddaddy said, standing. He waved him off and pulled Mercy into a hug. “You did good, granddaughter. Trust me when I say it because I ain’t ever lied to you before and won't start now.”
“She can do better and will,” her daddy replied. “Mercy, tomorrow we will run some drills.”
“Nah, tomorrow she is relaxing and being a damn kid,” Granddaddy told him. He looked at Mercy’s daddy like he was mad, and for a second, I wondered if he was. He and Madea had barely said anything to any of their kids since they got here. They spoke to us, gave us hugs and kisses, but that was it.
“She needs the practice.”
“For what?” Granddaddy said, glaring at him. “She’s a damn kid. All of them are, yet each of y’all hound them about something like the world is going to end. We barely see them. Y’all are treating them like a meal ticket instead of y’all’s kids. Shit is sick.”
“Daddy-“
“Stop talking to me, Angel,” Granddaddy said, waving off Mama. “You're one of the main ones. Corinthians is always at some damn practice or match. Girl ain’t had no damn peace in almost two years since she started boxing.”
“Take this outside away from folks,” Madea said, pointing to the door.
Uncle Mathew stood on the side next to his wife. They both looked antsy and kept glancing around, as if they were expecting something to happen. Uncle Mathew scratched the back of his neck, then licked his dry lips. “Mama, you-“
“Out-damn-side, Mathew,” Madea said to him.
We walked outside to where the cars were parked.
“Alright, now we are away from everyone, you can tell us how we are bad parents for wanting our kids to be better, to have better,” Daddy said, looking at Madea and Granddaddy.
“Ain’t nobody said y’all were wrong for wanting more for y’all kids,” Madea said, opening her van’s door for us to get in. “I ain’t in the mood to deal with y’all shit today.”
“Our shit?” Daddy questioned Madea. “This is why we don’t come around like that anymore. Mary always has something to say and a bad-ass attitude.”
“And she shouldn’t?” Granddaddy asked him.
“No!” Daddy yelled. “We are all just trying to take care of our family. Kids are expensive. We are doing what we need to do to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Them being good at something and us wanting to push them into a career path that could make them a lot of money ain’t a bad thing! ”
“You let them be kids, Ruben,” Granddaddy told him.
“Yeah, they are good at what they do. Mercy is a hell of a basketball player; Corinthians and Cross are good fighters. Psalms got a green thumb, even with her being as little as she is. Ex got a way with numbers. Judge is going places in science. Krude has a way with words and navigating people's wants and needs, but let them be fuckin’ kids. Don’t put that pressure on them to pick a career while in elementary. ”
“Nah, I’m making sure my daughters are set up for life; they won't struggle like I did.” Daddy wiped his hand over his mouth.
“Y’all might have raised your kids with a silver spoon in their mouth, but I wasn’t that lucky.
I had to work hard to get out of the streets and living in that big ass house. ”
“Ruben, you talk to fuckin’ much for somebody who just got a job and started taking care of his family. How long was Angel the breadwinner in that household?”
“There you go,” Daddy laughed and shook his head. “Every time.” He clapped, then rubbed his hands together. “Every fucking time we have a conversation, you bring up the fact that I was unemployed for a little while.”
“A little while is a few weeks or even a month or two. Not years,” Granddaddy told him. “That silver spoon you like to bring up so much is how your family survived while you weren’t working. Stop with the bullshit.”
“You got one more time to disrespect me,” Daddy said, glaring at Granddaddy.
Granddaddy laughed again, then moved faster than anyone thought he would, grabbed Daddy by the front of his shirt, and slammed him into the car behind him.
“Or what, Ruben?” Granddaddy asked him. “What are you going to do besides bitch and complain about it? You don’t run shit nor put fear in my fucking heart. ”
“Gabriel, the kids are watching,” Madea said, closing the door to the van.
“Roll the window down!” Krude said, tapping my arm. “I want to hear Granddaddy threaten your daddy.”
“Me too,” Ex agreed. “Roll the window down.”
I cracked the window so we could hear them, but not enough that Madea would notice.
“Beating his ass ain’t worth it. At least, not right now,” Madea said, walking over to Granddaddy. She put her hand on his arm and shook her head. “We got other shit to deal with.”
“The only reason I’m walking away and you’re still living is because of my wife and those kids in that van.
They don’t need to witness their first homicide just yet.
” Granddaddy slammed Daddy into the car again, this time so hard that the driver's window broke from the impact, and then let him go.
“The next time you step to me, remember that my being a Pastor was for niggas safety, not mine.” Granddaddy stood over him, then turned and looked at my aunts and uncles. “Anybody have anything to say?”
“How many people y’all think Granddaddy killed?” Krude asked as we continued to watch. “I bet it’s a lot.”
“Probably not as many as Madea,” Ex answered him.
“Madea?” Krude looked at him like he was crazy. “Not my favorite person.” He shook his head and waved him off.
“I live with them, remember?” Ex reminded Krude. “I hear things, and not just them having sex when they think I’m asleep.”
“I wish you had never told us about that,” Judge said, hitting him. “It's so hard to sleep over there now knowing they do that.”
“If I have to suffer, then so do y’all,” Ex shrugged.
“Anyway, I heard Granddaddy and Uncle JD talking the other night when I went to get some water out of the kitchen. They were talking about some boys who were being abused when Madea walked in. She said kill whoever is responsible for hurting the boys.”
“How did you hear all this?” Judge asked him.
“I was hiding in the hallway; you know it’s dark if no lights are on.”
“You think Granddaddy and Uncle JD killed the person?”
“I don’t know,” Ex answered, shaking his head. “I don’t put it past him, though. Everybody at church always says he’s crazy.”
Our parents got in their cars and left, while Madea and Granddaddy walked away from the car to talk.
They were far enough away that we couldn’t hear them, but they could see us.
Granddaddy said something, pointing to the cars that were no longer there, and Madea stood there letting him vent.
After a few minutes, she got on her tiptoes, grabbed his face, and made him look at her.
I could see her mouth moving, and whatever she said to him calmed him down.
He nodded, kissed her, then nodded again.