a baby. But I did sort of hurt her feelings—twice—telling her that I wanted to do something without her. But there was no denying that I cared for her deeply. I felt my blood boiling as I saw the guy run his hand up the back of her shirt.
Saxon came off the dance floor and said to me, “Man, what’s up with my sister?”
I couldn’t even speak, I just pointed over at her. He saw what I saw. It looked like she was getting herself into a situation that was more than she could handle.
“Man, I think them dudes are in a gang. Now my sister trying to put on a show for you. Y’all so dumb. Y’all like each other. Now she’s with this guy in a gang.”
“You sure he’s in a gang?” I asked. Saxon and I stood up when we saw the guy yank her hand and pull her close to him.
“Ouch!” she screamed out, “let me go. Let me go!” He raised his hand and smacked her. I was about to head on over there when Saxon pushed me down.
“Man, please, I got this.”
I said I’d go off to find Deuce so we would be there for back-up if need be. I was so mad at Savoy and mad at myself too. She and I didn’t know how to communicate with each other. We had to handle this mess.
“It’s a fight, man, it’s a fight!” some dude said, running in the direction of the commotion Saxon created. A swarm of people ran past in an effort to see a brawl. I couldn’t believe I was the only one with sense, going away from all the fuss. Unfortunately I needed to find Deuce and take my tail back into the midst of the chaos to bail Saxon out. Problem was, I couldn’t find Deuce and Kendall anywhere. The noise behind me grew louder and people were yelling, clapping, and cheering. Somebody was getting clobbered, and because my guy wasn’t a hometown boy I had a strange feeling Sax was really in trouble.
I jetted up the stairs to the V.I.P. lounge and it was completely empty. I couldn’t imagine Deuce talking his way into the V.I.P. section, but I had to check. Even the bouncer that manned the section was downstairs watching the fight. My boy was in trouble. When I saw blood, I reached into my pocket and got my cell out and immediately called 9-1-1. I had been part of the scene only days before, and I knew how this town worked. Whoever they caught would be looking at a rap sheet, whoever called it in would be considered a crime fighter.
“Thanks for your call,” the policeman told me, “but the bar owner already called it in and we’ve got officers headed to the scene. If it’s the gang you’re describing, I’d recommend you stay clear of them. They’re usually armed and more than dangerous.”
My breathing intensified tenfold when I hung up the phone. I tried to dial Deuce’s phone number three times, in such a state of panic that I misdialed. Finally I got through, only to receive his voicemail. After looking everywhere, I thought about the one place I hadn’t looked—the women’s bathroom. As soon as the door creaked I heard sounds of passion. Kendall and Deuce were in there making out, trying to get laid up, whatever he wanted to call it. Now just wasn’t the time for all that.
“Deuce?”
“Man, what? Not now.”
“Saxon’s in a fight.”
Deuce busted out of the handicap stall with his pants down. I turned around and said, “Come on, we got to get out there and help him.”
“That boy can’t keep himself out of trouble for five minutes,” Deuce said. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Kendall did me the courtesy of not coming out of the stall so I wouldn’t see her in any compromising ways. I replayed everything to Deuce as we dashed through the crowd.
“Oh, he’s getting creamed,” some guy in the crowd yelled. Normally I could see over crowds, but people were standing on folks’ necks trying to see this fight—you would have thought it was a World Championship bout or something. However, when the police raided the joint, bodies blocking our way moved quickly toward all exits. In the mass of confusion I saw a bloody silver knife in the hands of the gang leader. Savoy dropped to her knees and my heart stopped. I couldn’t even recognize her brother’s face, and knew from the bloodstain on the left side of his belly that the thug’s knife had pierced Saxon’s stomach. I was so torn I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to let thug dude get away with it. I wanted to go after him, fight a fair fight and kill his behind. He had waited until his boys tore Saxon up and then he took him out—it just wasn’t right.
But as soon as I turned, Savoy called out, “Perry, help me! Help me, please. You’ve got to help me stop the bleeding. My brother, I don’t know if he’s going to be okay. Please, I’m scared, help me!”
“I’m going to go get the police,” Deuce said.
Part of me was wishing I hadn’t been such a knucklehead in the beginning—in terms of Savoy—and all of this could have been prevented. But it was facing me now. When I touched Saxon’s body he wouldn’t even move, scream out in pain, or cry for help. My body started shaking as if I was in an ice cold freezer. It was déjà vu. I remember the paramedics trying to save Collin Cox, our other suitemate. Though his prospects had been bleak, he pulled through. Seeing Saxon’s frail body in front of me, I just didn’t think that he would be so lucky.
“We’re going to lose him,” Savoy said, reading my mind.
Instinctively, I said, “No, no. He’s going to get through this! He’s going to get through this,” as I rocked her in my arms.
I was so sick of hospital waiting rooms that if I had stock for every time I had been in one over the past couple of years I’d be rich. It was a good thing we were here for the bowl game, because Savoy’s parents were still in Miami and met us at the hospital. I didn’t know how to console her. She stayed in the arms of her mom, as her dad and I paced in opposite directions so we would stay clear of one another. I knew deep down it was useless to hold out much hope. Saxon was in real bad shape and if this was the end for him I didn’t even know if he was saved, and that killed me. I cried out, Lord, give me another chance! Help me make sure that my friends know You. You want me to be a fisherman of men, alright. I’ll put down my shoulder pads. I’m here. I’m available. Save my friend. Dang, I know we can’t do it without You. This is a lot—dealing with trouble.
3
Clinging to Hope
I was in such a daze, hoping everything would be okay with Saxon, that when my cell phone rang it startled me so that I almost took a leak in my pants.
“There you are, son,” my dad said. I hoped he hadn’t called the hotel and checked up on me. I had told him and my mom that I was going to go sleep off my depression over the horrible game. Before I could explain the night, he took my breath away by saying, “Son, this isn’t good news.”
What in the world did he have to tell me? What wasn’t good news, what was so bad? With Bilboa’s aunt and uncle’s accident early in the year, I couldn’t take it for granted that just a mere car ride across town would always prove to be a safe one.
“Are you and mom okay?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s Grandma.”
“What’s wrong with your mom?” I said, feeling very angry at the Lord. He told me that he would never put more on me than I could bear. I couldn’t bear losing Saxon, and now my dad
