Always Upbeat / All That (12 page)

When my mom kept crying, I went over to the other side of her. My dad looked away and when he looked back at me, tears were in his eyes too. I was shaking with worry.

I was not an only child. I had a younger sister, Lola, who was headed to the seventh grade. She was going to be a week late starting school because she was in a summer ballet program in New York.

“Oh my gosh! Is it Lola Ivy?” I asked, calling my sister by her whole name, which we did only when we were serious. “Is everything okay with her in New York? She's not hurt or anything is she?”

“No, no, son,” my mom mustered up the courage to say. “I'm so sorry to break down in front of you like this. I told your dad I wouldn't do it, and we don't know everything going on with me, so why stress? However, I haven't been feeling too well. Also, I found a lump in my breast.”

I heard exactly what she said, and at that moment, it felt like I had been shot. My whole body became numb, and it felt like my heart had been shattered into a billion pieces. I had to be in a nightmare because there was no way in the world something physically could be wrong with my mom. She was a rock, always going one hundred miles per hour. I knew nothing of how PMS got women down because I never knew one moment when my mom was on or off of her cycle. She never had mood swings. She was sassy, fierce, confident, and strong. A lump.
Cancer
. It just could not be.

“No, no,” I kept repeating. “No, no.”

I stood up and backed away from my parents. My dad came over and held me tight. He and I both broke down. Then I pushed him away because I refused to believe something was wrong with my mom. She had to be okay. Things had to be right. There could be nothing wrong with her. I would not accept anything less.

My mom got up, wiped her face, stood beside me, and placed her arms on both of mine.

“It's going to be okay, honey. Whatever the doctor is going to tell us, it's going to be okay.”

But how could it be okay if she was ill. My heart got hard. All of this was not fair.

My parents consoled each other. I grabbed my keys and got out of there. I didn't care about the consequences. It didn't matter that I knew I was supposed to be getting ready for school. I didn't care if I didn't sleep at all because I had just been hit with the worst news imaginable. My mother might have cancer, and as big, fast, and strong as I was, there was nothing I could do about her facing sickness.

As I drove like a maniac, exceeding the speed limit, driving in the median, and going around slow cars, subconsciously it didn't matter if I crashed because the thought of living this life without my mom was unbearable. If I wasn't here, that problem was solved. I guess there was something else working inside of me that calmed me down because the next thing I knew, I was in my cousin's neighborhood.

It didn't look as upscale as the one I lived in. It was late at night, and the place was jumping. The place where I lived was like a closed mall. Brenton's area had six and seven cars in certain driveways. Some were broken down and on bricks. Even though it was night, you could see the place wasn't well kept, and maybe that's why I didn't feel sorry for people.

Though I was just a young black man, there was so much about my race I didn't understand. Yeah, my parents provided a lot for me, but I worked hard on my own. When you see people not taking care of property, being all loud and rude in the middle of the street, not moving when they see a car coming, and with no common courtesy for their fellow man, I understood why some people don't want to be around Negroes.

As I honked the horn for the brothers to get out the way, finally realizing they were so high they probably didn't understand I was trying to get around them, I felt we had to do better. Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. He risked his life and didn't even get to see his own children grow up so that we could be about something, and I knew in the pit of my gut that he wouldn't be proud of the majority of black men: in jail, on drugs, not taking care of their families, and gone too soon.

That's when I realized I was no better. I had to figure out a way to handle my problems. Black men probably turned to booze sometimes, not only because it was cheap to get alcohol, but also because it was easy to turn up the bottle and wash away their problems when jobs were hard to find and owning much of anything was out of reach. I could only imagine how a man must feel when he couldn't take care of his family. Girls just throwing themselves at you trying to get pregnant so they can latch on to any dollar somebody worked hard to earn. I wasn't just trying to blame females. It took two to tango, and if you decided it was cool to lie down with the sista, then whatever the consequences might be, you got to take care of it. It was easy for me to understand the plight of the black man, and that let me know I should not be so judgmental.

When I pulled up to Brenton's yard, there was a whole bunch of yelling going on, and the front door was open. I quickly jumped out of my car and ran inside. My aunt's place was being ransacked. A man I had never seen before was tripping before my very eyes.

“Grab his arm, Blake!” Brenton yelled out.

Brenton held the man by one hand, and before he could chuck my aunt's lamp across the room, I grabbed his arm, and the lamp fell to the couch. The man started tugging, wiggling, and going ballistic.

“What's wrong, Aunt Val?” I called out.

My aunt was just standing there, shaking.

Brenton yelled, “I told you, Mom, don't trust him. I told you not to let him back in this house. I told you I saw him the other day around the corner, stoned.”

“He needed something to eat, Brenton. I was just helping my friend. I mean, we been dating … I didn't know, but he came in here all drunk and high, Blake,” my aunt started saying to me. “I was so glad Brenton came home because he was hit …”

“What?
What?
You better tell these boys to leave me alone. I'm gonna call the cops on your tail. That's what I'm gonna do. They gonna lock you up. Then what?”

“Joe, just get out of here!”

It was hard to get the man to cooperate, but Brenton and I handled it. Though he was kicking and screaming, we got him up out of my aunt's place. My cousin wasn't the starting linebacker for a 5A program for nothing. He grabbed that man by the collar like he was the dumbbell in practice and pushed him back so far he ended up falling on the concrete.

“I'm giving you this pass just once, but if I ever see you five feet in front of my house again … I'll …”

I grabbed my cousin and pulled him away from the man. When I looked back, the dude had run away. I hadn't seen my cousin upset like that ever. It was just a mess.

Brenton was breaking down in my arms so much that I could not even tell him my mom might have cancer. I had to put my hurt and pain aside and be there for not just my cousin, not just my boy, but for my brother.

“It's going to be all right, man,” I said.

“He put his hands on my mom, Blake. I just don't understand why she trying to get with any old joker, man. For a hug and a kiss, for a couple dollars … Dang, man, I got to quit the football team. I got to get another job. I got to take care of my mom so she don't need nobody else to take care of her! I just got her, Blake. I just got her!”

I looked up at the perfect night sky and knew that I could not break even though I felt like I was in my own pit of doom. For my cousin's sanity … For him to know we can get through this … For him to know he wasn't alone … For him to know whatever he had to do, he wasn't quitting the football team. We needed him. I had to be strong. He had to be strong. We had to keep our guard up.

I
felt like I had to be excellent, performing at my maximum best, ready to dominate, and the best QB ever seen, because I was getting ready to head to the National Underclassmen Combine—an elite football camp—in Birmingham, Alabama. My parents were going to be taking me, Brenton, and Landon. We were invited to this camp after being selected as one of the top fifty players in each position in the South. Landon was one of the top receivers. Brenton was one of the top linebackers. And I was doing my thing as one of the top quarterbacks across the states of Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Florida, South Carolina, and Georgia.

Of the other top forty-nine players in our position who got invited, we did not know exactly how many would show up. However, we knew the ones who came were going to have their game faces on. I was determined to show them what I was made of.

We were leaving so early in the morning that Landon and Brenton stayed over. They were piled up on the floor in my room on two different air mattresses. I was lying restlessly on my bed.

Landon must have looked over at me wrestling and said, “Blake, man, you ain't sleep?”

“Yeah, I'm sleep,” I said, hoping he would get the message that I did not want to talk.

I had a lot on my mind. Neither of them cats knew what was going on with my mom. Also, my father was still tripping. Though every part of my game was sharper in practice, I knew my dad was still not satisfied with my forty speed. Although a quarterback does not have to have super speed, I wanted to be dominant in all areas. I did not like that Brenton could bench press more than me. Yes, he was a linebacker and was supposed to be stronger; however, I still did not like it because I wanted to be superior in every skill. Landon was like lightning, and I wished I had his flash. I really wanted to get the two of them up so they could help me in my weak areas, but it was too late in terms of morning hours and too late because we were competing the next day. Where I was as a player was pretty much where I was going to stay. I'm not a whiner, but I thought it was easier to just say, “Yeah, I'm sleep,” hoping that Landon would be like, “All right, man,” and leave me alone.

“What about you, Brenton?” Landon asked, obviously wanting to talk.

“Tryna dose off,” Brenton said, truly sounding tired.

“Y'all can't sleep like me,” Landon said nervously. “I'm jittery, and I feel like my heart is gonna fall out of my chest. I don't know if I can go through with this tomorrow.”

“Landon, come on, partna,” Brenton said to him. “You straight, man.”

“You're not the only one nervous,” I finally admitted.

“Cuz, don't you trip. You are the baddest quarterback around,” Brenton said, surprising me that he was that confident in my skills.

Thinking about all that was on me, I became emotional. The light from the moon shone into my bedroom. I did not even realize that they could see me wiping me eyes.

“Blake,” Landon sat up and said in a caring voice. “Brenton's right. You know you gonna show out tomorrow. Dude, I don't ever think I've seen you cry. What's wrong?”

Being vulnerable, I said, “It's my mom, man.”

“What's going on with Auntie?” Brenton asked, as he sat up too.

“I don't even wanna talk about it. You guys need to concentrate, and I don't want to add none of my stress to y'all.”

“Fo' real, Blake, don't front,” Brenton said. “You was there for me. Don't hold out. If you going through, I'm going through. What's going on with Auntie? I'ma be worried crazy if you don't tell me now. You gotta spill it. What's going on?”

“She may have cancer. There, I said it,” I yelled, letting out some of my pent-up frustration.

My room got silent. Landon got up and put his arm on my shoulder. I cried harder. My cousin bowed his head. I assumed he prayed. It was good to know I had two teammates—friends, no brothers—who really felt my pain.

The next morning we were on our way to the National Underclassmen Combine. I did not want my mom coming because I did not want her stressed out, as I knew she'd be nervous for me. However, as my favorite cheerleader, she was in the car pumping us all up. I hoped Brenton and Landon would not treat her differently, and they did not, which was cool. They laughed with her, and she enjoyed that we said we were going to represent.

The three of us were a little uneasy, and we'd hardly slept, but when we stepped onto the football field in Birmingham, Alabama, and saw the massive crowd of top athletes, we knew we were ready.

My dad was more nervous than my mom. First he was in the stands. Then he was hanging on to the fence. Next he was walking the track and biting his nails. Finally he stood in the end zone where he was kicking at the dirt. The man could not stay still. But I blocked him out. I told Landon and Brenton that this was our time to shine, and if there was one thing we knew how to do, it was to take our play up another notch. The National Underclassmen Combine needed to be ready for us.

When the head coach, Coach Lot, asked us to assemble for warm-ups, we lined up across the end zone. I stood straight in front of him on the front row, and Brenton and Landon were beside me. We were jumping up and down, hitting each other in the chest, making grunting noises, and firing up everyone around us. Yeah, we were in competition with these other guys, but all of us had done something amazing to get to this level. If we had confidence and enthusiasm for each other, this would be a better experience for us all.

When stretching was over, Coach Lot came and divided us all up by position. I was no different when it came to leading the drills. I was too hard on myself when it came to the forty because I was the second fastest out of the thirty-nine quarterbacks who were in attendance. Remarkably, it was the same thing when it came to lifting the weights. I lifted 155 pounds twenty-three times. I was second to only one guy. In every other event I performed, I was the best.

When we moved to actual competition, I showed out too. We worked on three-step, five-step, and seven-step drops. My footwork was on point. All of my balls had tight spirals, and the receivers had no problem catching any of my passes. One of the toughest throws to make is the deep out route, but my arm strength made it happen for me with ease. They rotated quarterbacks in for the competition. When I was on the field, my team was able to move the ball extremely well. I had the most TDs. Coach Lot picked the top ten quarterbacks, and I was in that number.

In the afternoon when the competition was over, the Combine held a ceremony. Coach Lot stood at the front of the group and announced, “More impressive than being in the top ten in your position is being number one in your position.”

I could see my dad gritting his teeth when the best linebacker was announced, and he almost ran onto the field when Brenton came forward. When he announced the best wide receiver, and Landon's name was called, my dad did a dance. My dad yelled louder than any cheerleader I recalled ever hearing when I was named the top quarterback. My dad ran on the field and kissed me on my cheek. I was embarrassed, but I was extremely proud.

Most days he gives me a hard time, and he makes me feel last when it comes to all the other players. However, that moment when he went that extra step to let me know he was hyped that I had accomplished something really awesome, meant a ton. He showed me his love. We just hugged. Even if he grilled me on the way home, or if the next day's practice was hell, or if I should disappoint him during the seven-on-seven game that was coming up at the end of the week, I knew that at that very moment he was proud of me. Nothing could take that feeling away.

To top it all off, there was a tie for the leadership award that was given. Coach Lot announced that it was the first time in the Combine's history that the award was given to three people from one school. Landon, Brenton, and I represented the Lions with class. Needless to say, we were proud, but we were hungry. On the way home my dad took us to a steakhouse. We were full from our tummies and from his love.

Seven on seven meant that there were only seven players on offense and seven on defense. We did not really need linemen because there was no hitting permitted. It was really a passing league, and there was a bunch of talk that got around that I was chosen as the top quarterback at the National Underclassmen Combine, and I was only going into my junior year. I had been coached up for years because of my dad, but I was maintaining my dynamic status because of my skills.

We knew when we stepped off of the bus that the team to beat was Rutland from Bibb County in central Georgia. They were tough. They were mean. And they were gunning for me. When I saw the size of their linebackers, I wondered why they weren't at the Combine. Then I remembered that not only did you have to be good, but there were fees attached. The higher the level, the more money you had to pay, so some boys who were good opted not to go that route because they could not afford it. Sizing up the big gorillas in front of me, I knew some cats did not need the Combine and camps to get their play out there to college scouts.

“So all I'm going to say, Lions, is I need intensity. We're going up against eleven other teams. The team still standing at the end of the day wins the seven-on-seven tournament,” my dad stated with passion.

The first three games, we breezed through. We were tired on game four. Some guys got cramps, as the heat was the biggest opponent, and it was whipping our tails.

My dad reeled all of us in and said, “When you're a Lion, you have courage. You protect what's yours. Though you're a beautiful creature, you can get mean and nasty. So dig down deep into yourselves and turn it up another notch. Matter-of-fact, what's that song you used to sing a couple of years ago? ‘All the Way Turned Up.' Let's finish this thing. You guys are the best-conditioned team out here. I know it. Play like it.”

Though we were struggling in the beginning of game four, we pulled through. During game five the other team was flat, and we basically won because they played so pitifully. Then we had to face the big monster, Rutland, and they were talking noise.

“Hey, Blake. I heard them boys hurt somebody in the last game. You ain't really supposed to hit like that. Don't throw up no high balls 'cause I'm not catching it. I ain't tryna get no cheap shot,” Landon said, as we scouted out the other guys.

I wanted to go tell my dad exactly what I'd heard about the opponent, but he was already on it, and he called us in again, and said, “All right, I talked to the refs, and we don't have to play these guys because a couple of them took some cheap shots. One guy was ejected and can't even play in this game. So if we don't want to go, they'll call it a draw. It's y'all's choice. I already like how y'all played. I don't want anyone to get hurt. We can walk away from this thing and live to fight another day. Our season is more important. It's a few weeks away, and it's gonna be a jungle. I need all my Lions ready to roar.”

We all were eyeing each other. None of us said anything. My dad took that like we were ready to pack it in and go home.

My eyes got bigger and excited, like a lion's does when he sees prey he wants to devour. “Hold up, Pops. We ain't scared. Like from your favorite movie,
The Wiz
, we're not like the lion in the beginning of the film. As a matter of fact, we got the brains the Wiz gave Scarecrow, and I know we can outsmart Rutland. We got the heart like Tinman got. We play as a team, and we're not gonna let each other down. We have the courage of a lion. They might be bigger, but they're not faster and stronger. Big doesn't always mean better. Just like Dorothy, we wanna go home. Only difference is, we're going home with the prize.”

My teammates started roaring a lion's call. My dad nodded. We were ready to play.

They scored the first two touchdowns, making one TD after picking off one of my throws. Though frustrated, I did not lose my head. I kept the team motivated. The next three scores were ours. We went home champions.

On the bus my dad said, “There are lots of seven-on-seven tournaments going on around the state. Contenders wanted to be in this one because twelve dynamic teams competed—no chumps. You guys came out champions. I'm proud of you men. Proud of your hard work. It pays off. This is only the beginning. Get ready for the jungle, baby, get ready for the jungle! Y'all go out, have yourselves a good time. Take tomorrow off, and I'll see you first thing Monday morning. On three: one, two, three … Lions!”

We all roared.

“When yo' pops said we can go out, I didn't know he meant you, too,” Colby, a nagging defensive back came up to me and said later, as we were about to go into a house party.

Landon had my back and said, “You need to get some skills because we were getting burned in the secondary.”

Landon looked at me to join him in the roast, but I was feeling too good for the drama. Brenton laughed, letting Colby get the message that his play was sorry. I just stared at the brother.

“Don't look at me like that, Blake. My leg was hurting out there today.”

“I ain't say nothing to you, man,” I said with my arms up in the air, needing him to back up the accusations I did not deserve.

“I'm just saying. I know y'all ragging me because it seemed like I wasn't holding down the secondary. But I'ma be all right. I got the corner covered,” Colby said, hitting is chest.

I didn't know whose house I was in. Landon said it was some party, and Brenton and I just tagged along. The place was jumping, and it didn't look too suspect. Some places I did not need to go into because it just looked like trouble, but this was a calm, peaceful neighborhood, and there did not appear to be any thugs around. I could not go in just any place. I had a rep to protect and a future to be around for.

Before I walked in, I dialed Charli's number. “Where you at, baby?” I said, wanting my arms to be around her.