Mason watched until Suave disappeared around the corner, a proud smile on his face. It had been a little over a year since Mason met the boy, and he had taken Suave under his wings. Although Suave continued to live with Pastor Ralph, who ranted and raved about the boy’s association with the community’s drug kingpin, Suave spent most of his free time with Mason and his men.
Now a student at Kingston Technical High School in the eighth grade, Suave spent his days in school and evenings doing drug runs for Mason. His main duty was to make sure all Mason’s men around the area always had a full supply of marijuana. On a few occasions, he delivered the merchandise to customers in the neighborhood. These tasks were shared with Junior and two other young boys—Josh, nicknamed Cobra, and Samuel, known as Daddy Lizard. Suave remained aloof from Junior, whose hatred for him only intensified as Suave’s relationship grew with his father. However, he became best friends with Cobra and Daddy Lizard in no time.
“Anything else, Mr. Mason?” Suave asked his mentor later that evening as night was falling. “You want me to do that pickup on Keith Avenue?”
Mason was perched on a stool under the shop. He took a sip of the beer in his hand and said, “Nay, that’s it for tonight, young gun. You did a good job, as usual.”
“Are you sure? It’s still early. I don’t mind, sir.” Suave was almost begging Mason to give him something else to do.
Mason frowned. “Every night, it seems as if you don’t want to go home. What’s going on?”
“No... Nothing, Mr. Mason,” Suave stammered, his eyes widened in fear. “I’m just not ready to go home. That’s all.”
“Suave, you do know if that old fool is mistreating you in any way, I need to know,” Mason said in reference to Pastor Ralph. “It would take nothing for me to fix his business. You know that, right?”
Suave nodded, his eyes looking everywhere but at Mason. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Mr. Mason.” He hurried away before Mason decided to probe a little deeper.
Fear filled Suave’s gut as he approached the house. He hated going home, but he had no choice. He knocked a few times on the door and waited for Pastor Ralph to come and open it. The man refused to give him a key.
“This is my house, and you will not come and go as you please,” Pastor Ralph had told him. “I am the man up in here, not you.”
It took Pastor Ralph ten minutes to open the door. Suave knew it was a deliberate ploy to show his displeasure of him.
“Well, well, he remembers where he lives.” Pastor Ralph sneered at Suave. “I have a good mind to leave you outside.”
Suave wished he would. This way, he would have an excuse to tell Mason, who just might allow him to stay with him. Although he hated Junior and the thought of living with him, Suave hated Pastor Ralph more.
“Get your butt inside,” Pastor Ralph barked. He stood to the side.
Suave kicked off his sneakers and left them on the veranda. As he passed his uncle into the living room, he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. Suave shrieked and spun around to a fist that smashed into his gut. The boy doubled over in pain, crying.
“How many times I told you to stop running around with that devil and his followers, huh?” Pastor Ralph kicked the boy in his bottom, sending him to the floor, howling in agony. “I should just twist your neck right now.” But Pastor Ralph knew he couldn’t. If he killed Suave, Mason would make sure he was dead in seconds. So, he did the next best thing. Pastor Ralph abused the young boy and threatened him into silence.
“And remember, if you ever say a word to that drug dealer, I’ll make sure everyone knows. Both of us will pay the price.” His nasty grin didn’t reach his bloodshot eyes.
Suave whimpered, not from the pain but from the shame. It was the reason why he came home to a beating almost every night. He would rather kill himself than let anyone know about his ignominy.
Pastor Ralph knelt beside Suave and whispered in his ear, “You won’t say a word to anyone, will you?” His breath stank of the Johnnie Walker he often laced his coffee with. “Will you?” he shouted when Suave didn’t respond, his hand squeezing the back of the boy’s neck.
Suave shook his head, wincing at the sharp pain. “No.”
“I can’t hear you!”
“No, Pastor Ralph,” Suave said louder this time. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Pastor Ralph squeezed harder on Suave’s neck for a few seconds before he let go. He rose with some difficulty due to his arthritic feet, stared down at Suave before striding away to his bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
Suddenly, gospel music from Pastor Ralph’s records filled the house, washing over Suave on the floor like a bucket of ice-cold water. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain that flooded his body, ran to his bedroom, and shut the door, unable to lock it. Pastor Ralph had removed the lock days after Suave moved in. This way, Pastor Ralph could come and go as he pleased.
Suave sat down on the edge of the bed, nibbling nervously on his lips. Run out. Go on and get out now before he comes. He got to his feet and moved toward the door before stopping short.
“I’ll make sure everyone knows,” Pastor Ralph’s words rang in Suave’s head. “Both of us will pay the price.”
On heavy feet, Suave walked back over to the bed and sat down. Tears ran down his face as he reminisced about his parents. It didn’t matter what anyone said about Gloria and George. They loved their only child and showed it.
“Wake
