2-23-19

Dear Reader,
Hey! I hope all is well on your front. I'm no more for wear for the kind of life I'm forced to live on this death row...

Did you enjoy middle school? I didn't! I was a mixed kid that dressed proper, talked proper, and tossed into a school where the kids had segregated themselves. Like any color of skin, certain circumstances can make it tough to be you. Circumstance found me in the 6th grade. I was disliked by some (not many) of the white kids because of my darker complexion and disliked by some (not many) of the black kids because of the lighter complexion of my skin. What caused me the most trouble though was not choosing a side.

I was standing at my locker one day between classes, sharing basketball cards with a new friend who had the locker next to mine. A white kid. A couple of black kids came up and took his binder of cards from him. But not mine. I didn't understand what was going on. They left and my friend complained how he hadn't done anything to them and how "they're" always screwing with him. He really missed those cards.

Before class started, I saw the kid who took my new friend's property pass by my classroom door. So after class, I stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting to see that kid. I saw him. Book bag over one shoulder and the binder in his other hand, loosely tucked to his hip. I followed him. I was looking for a moment I could snatch it, but before I could make a move, he met up with his buddies. But I saw him put the binder in his locker! I knew how to pop off a lock (from watching TV :)), so it was as good as mine.

During class, I asked for a restroom break. The teacher gave me the hall pass and i headed straight for his locker. I got to it and took off my shirt as I looked around. I had to move quick. If I got caught, I'd be in a world of pain when I got home. Not really, those serious beatings died down a lot after my stepdad left and went back to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I slipped the shirt between the lock's arm and twisted my shirt. Alright, I pulled down on it with all my strength. I could imagine the arms bending the pins inside as my feet came off the ground and then bam!

No, it wasn't the lock door opening, it was a classroom door closing. And I could hear heels clicking against the floor. That could only be a teacher!

I slipped my shirt out of the lock. It clanged loudly against the locker and I sprinted to the boy's bathroom, breathing heavy, adrenaline rushing through my brain, dulling my sense of time but making me hyper aware of those heels steadily clicking against the imitation marble floors with a sense of urgency. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped.

Two clicks here... pause...? Click there, pause. And then they started clicking with the rhythm of a normal gait and the sound faded.

I waited a few moments longer to make sure she wasn't being sneaky. She was an adult. :P I came out of the bathroom and ran to the locker, aware that I'd been gone too long already. I slipped my shirt back in place and puled. But nothing. I pulled so hard I was hanging on it. And then I bounced and pop! It opened. Ha! I pulled out my shirt, put it on, opened the locker, and grabbed the binder. Shut the locker and hung the lock back on. I put the binder in my locker for safe keeping.

I remember telling my teacher I had to take a #2, which is why it took so long. She gave me a look of "too much information." Only a few minutes had passed? What? It felt like at least 10 minutes had gone by. That explains the look I got from the teacher. She's probably thinking I didn't even wipe. Ha ha ha! :x

After class, I'm at my locker and my new friend comes to his. I opened my locker with a smile on my face. I knew he's going to be real happy to have his cards back. There's like a hundred or more in it.

I pulled it out and he saw it. But before I could say anything, he said, "For real? I thought we were cool! I'd have traded some with you, man. You didn't have to have your homeboys take them from me!" And then he stormed off. I followed and yelled wait! Holding out the binder to show I was giving it to him. But next thing I know, I hit the locker hard and was getting pummeled by... yup. You guessed it: the guy who took the binder in the first place.

What? You thought this story had a happy ending? I wish it did. But unfortunately, most of the ones in my life don't. At least not until I become an adult. But I have a few that I'll be sharing with you. You'll need some light to find your way through these darkened hallways of my life.

Until next time.

Yours truly,
Doug