“Any luck finding the matching weapon?”
“Techs are still going through the confiscated firearms. If we find the right gun, maybe Pappy left a usable print behind. He wasn’t gloved when he discharged the gun. We know that from the powder marks.”
“Except most prints are smeared by the kick of the recoil.”
“Then maybe a palm print.”
“Speaking of the son of a bitch, what’s going on with Pappy?”
“He ain’t a rich boy, but someone posted bail for him.”
“Bail on murder?”
“Discharging a firearm’s all it is so far.”
McCain cursed. “Politics. Isn’t it against NCAA rules for him to take gifts? Isn’t bail a gift?”
“I doubt that’s in the rule book, Micky. And Pappy has more important things to deal with than the NCAA board.”
“Scumbag. We both know damn well that he was the shooter, even if he didn’t mean to hit Julius. Let’s just hope we can keep a good case against him. You know witnesses. Their memory gets foggy after the panic wears off. Even without politics, we gotta hope to get this nailed down in a couple of days or else things will start to get very murky.”
“Look how long it took them to arrest that kid from Baylor… What was his name?”
“Carlton Dotson,” McCain said. “Yeah, I forgot about that. What’s with these basketball players anyhow?”
The question was rhetorical. Dorothy ignored it. “What was it? Six months before they issued the warrant?”
“Difference was Dotson confessed to one of his friends that he shot the other kid-Dennehy. And it took a while because there was no body. We sure have a body, but maybe I’d trade it for a confession.”
Suddenly, Dorothy felt the crushing fatigue from the last twelve hours. “It’s a waste of time talking about it. Try to get some rest, Micky.”
“I’ll try,” McCain answered. “If I don’t succeed, there’s always drugs.”
Dorothy expected to find both boys gone, had hoped to unwind by having her tiny house to herself. Instead, they were home, their faces grave and filled with what could have been remorse for every sin they’d committed in their lifetime. Seeing a “hero” gunned down could do that to you.
Big-time remorse: They’d prepared breakfast for her: toast and jam, coffee, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Upon seeing her, Marcus marked his place in his anthropology text, and Spencer looked up from his algebra homework. They regarded their mother; she looked back at them. Dorothy spoke first.
“Don’t you boys have school?”
Marcus said, “Classes were canceled for the day.”
“What’s going on with the team?”
The older boy sighed and shrugged. “Everything’s on hold. We’ve got a meeting-the whole team’s got a meeting-at three.”
Dorothy looked at her younger son. “And you? What’s your excuse?”
Spencer bit his lip. “I’m way behind, Mama. I’m trying to catch up, so I figured-”
“You can catch up on your own time, young man. Get packing.”
“If you want, Mama, you can tell the school I have an unexcused absence. I can’t go back to class until I know what’s going on in algebra. It’ll be wasting my time and I won’t learn nothing. It’d be better if I studied here, but if you kick me out, I’ll just go to the library or something.”
Dorothy blew out air. “How long will it take you to catch up?”
“If I be working all day, maybe two days.”
“You bet sweet Jesus you’ll be working all day. Especially if I write you an excuse! No doing anything with your friends until you’re all caught up.” Spencer nodded and Dorothy sat down. “Thank you, boys, for making me some breakfast. I know that you’re both doing it because you are feeling real bad about Julius. And you’re feeling bad that I’m dealing with it… with his parents.”
“That must have been awful,” Spencer said.
Tears formed in Dorothy’s eyes. “No words for it.” She picked up a piece of toast and bit into it absently. “One of you guys pour me coffee.” She sipped her juice. “Did you make decaf or regular?”
“Decaf,” Marcus said. “Figured you might want to sleep.”
“Good thinking,” she said.
“Yeah, he’s the smart one,” Spencer said.
“Cut it out,” Marcus retorted.
“Don’t fight,” Dorothy said.
“No one’s fighting,” Spencer said. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“I thought we were talking,” Dorothy said.
Spencer said nothing.
“Go on,” his mother urged.
“Maybe it’s not the right time-”
“Go on!” Dorothy said testily.
Spencer cleared his throat and looked at his older brother.
Marcus put down a cup of coffee for his mother. “I’ll be in the other room if you want.”
“No, stay here,” Spencer said. “I might need help.”
Dorothy’s eyes narrowed. “What’d you do this time?”
“I didn’t do nothing. Just listen, okay?”
And then it dawned on her why she was snapping at him. Because it made her feel like a normal parent. At this moment, if she didn’t act like a normal parent, she’d break down and sob, thanking the good Lord for her two beautiful sons and for keeping them healthy. She didn’t want to do that-to be weak and vulnerable and help-less-in front of the boys.
She said, “I’m listening, but you ain’t talking.”
Spencer frowned. “All right. I’m gonna work real hard in school, Mama. I’m gonna… I’m gonna try not to get distracted by all the stuff that goes down there-the guns, the drugs, the gangstas. Lots of shit goes down there.”
“Watch your mouth!”
“Sorry.”
“No more carrying guns, right?”
“Yeah, right,” Spencer said. “Can you let me finish?”
“Who’s stopping you?”
Spencer didn’t bother answering the obvious. “I’m gonna try real hard. But you have to know this. I know Marcus knows this. And I know I know this.”
“Know what?”
“I’m getting to that, okay?”
No one spoke.
Spencer sighed. “Mama, I ain’t a student. I don’t like school, I don’t like books, and I don’t like keeping my ass parked for five hours when nothing goes on except people yawning, throwing things at each other, or even worse.”
“There are some good teachers.”
“They try, Mama, but it’s a zoo. The classes are crowded, the books are old and boring, and I’m not interested in what they’re teaching me.” He looked desperately at his brother.
Marcus shrugged. “School’s not for everyone.”
“You shut up,” Dorothy said. “Now, you listen here, young man-”
“Mama, please!”
Dorothy started to speak but stopped herself.
“Can I finish?” Spencer whined. When there was no comment from the big lady, he said, “I don’t like dodging knives and bullets and drugs and people asking you to prove yourself or showing off their shit. I know, I know. My mouth. But that’s what I deal with day in and day out.”
“And what do you think I deal with?”
“The same thing. Which is why I came to this conclusion. If I’m gonna deal with the stuff-see, I said stuff-I might as well get paid for it. I don’t want to go to no college. I don’t have a college brain like Marcus does. Wait, Mama, don’t interrupt.”
“I didn’t say nothing.”
“It’s on your face.”
“Sure is,” Marcus muttered.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut it?” said Dorothy.
“Yes, Queen Dorothy, I apologize for my untimely interruption.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
Spencer bit a nail and said, “Ma, I want to go to the academy. That’s what I want to do if I don’t make it in the pros.”