Team Seven by Marcus Burke

was so mad, so mad I just spoke my mind. “Listen, ’ight. Let me tell you something, Pop. This ain’t fixing to be no every week thing. After today don’t bring him ’round me no more. Test me if you think I’m playing. I’ll beat his lil’ ass and then what? I don’t fucking like him, okay?” Now I knew I was out of order for speaking to him like that, but I didn’t even care.
    He eyed me.
    I was so scared I couldn’t even raise my eyes from the floor. Pop was a loose cannon. I was waiting for him to snap and beat the hell out of me at any moment. I looked out the window and saw EJ walking back toward the car picking piecesof Laffy Taffy out of his braces. When the door creaked open and slammed, I let the seat back down again.
    By this point it was about afternoon and I’d had enough fuckery for one day. I grabbed my belly and started rocking back and forth. “Pop, I think I need a washout. I think my insides are rotting. I feel like I’m getting the Hershey squirts. You gotta take me home.” The only person in the car who believed me was EJ.
    “Aww, Big Bro, I’m sorry, man. You’re not feeling well?”
    I wanted to ask EJ if I had an echo, but I let it rock.
    “Yeah, son, I ain’t feeling so hot. It’s time to take it back to the hood, but I’ll get up wit’ you.”
    Knowing how I felt about him, Pop didn’t really say much. He just looked heated at me, but I didn’t care. He should have known he was dead wrong putting me through all this anyway. I was happy I was going home, but the fuckery wasn’t over. EJ was still in the car.
    I let the window down to get some air and rubbed my belly and started tapping my knee and biting my nails. About a half block away from my house, the car stopped.
    “Alright, pickny, get out and don’t shit yourself before you reach home.”
    EJ just thought “Daddy” was so funny. I threw him a pound and bounced. I didn’t even say bye to Pop.
    “You sure you okay? It was nice meeting you. Catch ya on the flip side,” EJ said, hanging halfway out the window like a monkey as the two of them pulled off.
    I didn’t go home. I walked back two blocks to the Tucker, my old elementary school, and sat on the top of the monkey bars. How could I go home? I knew Nina and Ma were goingto want to know what I did all day. I couldn’t bullshit this one. Ma, she sees right through me. And I knew if I told Nina she was going to tell Ma.
    For a while I just sat there, reading the credits of my new CDs. I felt like everything today was my fault. I just knew Ma was going to be so mad at me for going out there and fraternizing with the enemy. I decided that this day was a secret I would take to the grave. Once the streetlights came on, I started walking home.
    When I turned the corner onto Lothrop, I saw everyone was outside. Ma, Nina, Nana and Papa Tanks, Aunty Diamond and her boyfriend. When they saw me, they started popping party poppers and singing “Happy Birthday” and throwing confetti. I just wanted to cry when I saw them, but I mustered up a half smile and walked up to the porch.

6
Objects in Motion
    It didn’t take long to be identified as one of the troublemakers in the seventh grade. In just one week I went from being a harmless wanderer to being a roaming troublemaker. My teachers in the sixth grade labeled me a hallway-wanderer and they stuck me in the “resource room” down in the basement where they hide the special education department. The school told Ma that I needed extra attention, but I think they just ain’t want me wandering the hallways like I do. I don’t really need the extra help, but the teacher, Ms. Lenny, damn near be doing my homework for me. I still feel like the punishment didn’t fit the crime, but I shouldn’t complain.
    See, there’s a big difference between being a wanderer and a troublemaker. Both stigmas raise teachers’ eyebrows and neck hairs, but when you’re a wanderer they’re still nice to you, they just want you to get