3
Jamal’s parents argued about Saint Aurelia at the kitchen table.
Renee Freeman wanted him home.
Isaiah wanted him cautious but refused to forbid the trip.
Their brick house sat in a quiet neighborhood outside East Briar, modest by Hampton Crest standards and luxurious compared with the apartment complex where Cleo lived.
The Jefferson Medal lay on the table.
Isaiah turned it over in his hands.
“Funny.”
“What?” Jamal asked.
“A Jefferson medal around a Freeman neck.”
Renee did not smile.
“Nothing about that family feels funny.”
Jamal opened the refrigerator.
“Mrs. Jefferson is nice.”
“Nice people can raise troubled children,” Renee said.
“Bart isn’t troubled.”
“He looked sick when they called your name.”
“He expected to win.”
“Disappointment is normal. That look was not.”
Isaiah placed down the medal.
“What does Cleopatra think?”
“She doesn’t want me to go.”
“Then she has sense.”
“Both of you decided that?”
Renee folded her arms.
“Why do you need this trip?”
“I don’t need it.”
“Then stay.”
“I want to go.”
“Why?”
Jamal closed the refrigerator.
“Because I spent four years being told I belonged at Hampton Crest as long as I remained impressive. I want one weekend where I am just part of the group.”
Isaiah looked at him.
“You think an island changes people?”
“No.”
“It removes witnesses.”
Renee looked at her husband.
“Isaiah.”
“What?”
“Do not frighten him.”
“He needs enough fear to balance that confidence.”
Jamal sat.
“I can handle Bart.”
“This is not basketball,” Isaiah said.
“I know.”
“Does he?”
Jamal did not answer.
His father leaned forward.
“You have beaten that young man in nearly every category his family taught him to value.”
“I did not do it to him.”
“Intent does not control injury.”
“So I’m supposed to apologize for succeeding?”
“No. You’re supposed to understand that some people experience another person’s success as humiliation.”
“Bart is not a killer.”
“Nobody said he was.”
“Cleo practically did.”
“Cleo sees things you don’t.”
“She assumes the worst.”
“She grew up where assuming the best could cost you.”
Jamal looked toward his mother.
“You agree?”
Renee’s eyes softened.
“I know you want to believe intelligence gives you control.”
“I never said that.”
“You act like it.”
“I’m the smartest kid at school because I study, not because I think I’m invincible.”
Isaiah smiled faintly.
“You said smartest kid at school.”
“I am.”
His father laughed.
Renee did not.
“That confidence is why people follow you,” she said. “It is also why you think warnings are for everyone else.”
Jamal looked at the medal.
“I’m going.”
His mother closed her eyes.
Isaiah nodded slowly.
“You’re eighteen.”
“That means you agree?”
“It means adulthood begins when parents lose the power to prevent mistakes.”
Renee stood.
“Do not call it a mistake before he leaves.”
“I hope I’m wrong.”
Jamal reached for the medal.
His father held it down.
“Listen to me.”
Jamal met his eyes.
“If Bart turns your success into a grievance, do not argue him out of it. Leave.”
“I will.”
“If the others start acting strange, leave.”
“How?”
“Call me.”
“It’s an island.”
“I will find money, a boat, a helicopter, or Jesus walking on water. Call me.”
Jamal smiled.
Isaiah did not.
“Promise.”
“I promise.”