Just Another Hero Read online

  “My son says his fries taste funny,” another lady complained. “I want a refund.”

  “No problem, ma’am,” Kofi told her cheerfully as he returned her money. What he wanted to say was, If your kid hadn’t poured syrup all over them, they wouldn’t taste like that! But he didn’t.

  I gotta get a better job quick, Kofi thought, before I toss one of these kids into the french fry grease! But he knew that no after-school job was going to be enough to pay for a school like MIT. He needed big money and soon.

  When he got off at ten, his head throbbed and he was starving. Even though he’d been surrounded by food, he hadn’t eaten a thing. He stopped by Skyline Chili, where the sauce was thick, the pasta was buttery, and the cheese was real. He ordered a five-way with everything, including onions. I can’t really afford this, but man, I’m starved!

  He sat inside, sipped on a Coke, and munched on the food. He started to take another pill, then reminded himself that this was the last refill, and tossed the bottle back into his backpack. I can handle this, he thought. No sweat.

  He opened his cell phone and hit number one on his speed dial. “What’s up, my sweet?” he said smoothly when Dana picked up.

  “Nothin’ happenin’. Doing homework. Where are you—eating at the competition again?”

  “Nobody can compete with Cincinnati’s most famous chili place, babe! I bet they serve Skyline in heaven!”

  “And all the angels probably have onion breath!” she joked.

  “I’d like to share some of my onion breath with you.”

  “You turn me on even when you’re being disgusting!” Dana replied softly.

  “For real, girl. You know you’re my only.”

  “I know. I better be.” She laughed. “You always know just what to say to me.”

  “That’s ’cause you turn me on, just by the sound of your voice.”

  “What can I say—I got the power!” she said.

  “You got more than that!” he told her.

  “Hey, didn’t you go to the doctor today?”

  “Yeah, I went.”

  “He didn’t give you any more of those pills, did he?”

  “Nope. I’m clean,” Kofi lied.

  “What did he say about your arm?”

  “He said I’m Superman, and I got arms of steel.”

  “Well fly on over here, put those steel arms around me, and kiss me good night.”

  “Wish I could, sweet thing, but I gotta fly home. I still got homework to do. Besides, your mama would kill me if I came over this late.”

  “I can handle my mother. But can you handle me?” she asked, her voice deep and inviting.

  “Ooh, girl! You’re one hot mama!” Kofi breathed into the phone.

  “I gotta go, Kofi, before we burn up the phone,” she said. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love you.”

  “Love you back.” He closed the cell phone and smiled. Dana made his screwed-up life make sense. Without her, he didn’t think he’d make it to graduation, maybe not even to the end of the week. Sometimes it scared him, how much he needed her.

  When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see his mother at home, acting like a real mom. She had cooked dinner—it smelled like chicken with onions, his favorite—washed the dishes, and swept the kitchen floor. Her eyes looked bright and clear, and they reminded him of times when she always looked like that, when she went tromping through the woods helping him find buckeyes for a school project on Ohio. When they’d made a red-green-blue-purple mess of the kitchen table and floor when they dyed Easter eggs one spring. The times before she lost her job…two babies to miscarriages…the times before the liquor bottles started piling up.

  “Hey there, Kofi,” his mother called out, bringing him back to the present.

  “Hey, Ma,” he said as he tossed his book bag into the closet. “Something smells good.” He kissed her on the cheek and sniffed. All he smelled was Shalimar cologne, her favorite. He sighed with relief and surprise.

  “I fixed dinner for you,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “But it’s cold now.”

  “You never cook, Ma. How would I know you had food waiting for me?” he replied as he grabbed her and gave her a hug. “But I really appreciate it—honest. I’ll take it to school for lunch tomorrow. Kids at school will be jealous ’cause I have a home-cooked meal!”

  That made her smile. “I wanted to celebrate your college acceptance. I really am proud of you, you know.”

  Kofi blinked. “I told you about that almost two weeks ago,” he said, trying to be patient.

  “Oh. I guess you did.” She checked her nail polish. “Well, you know how busy I’ve been,” she replied. “I can’t believe you’ll be leaving us to go off to college in just a few months!”

  Kofi shook his head. He truly didn’t know how his parents were going to manage without him.

  “I have to mail the letter back to MIT real soon, Ma, to let them know whether I’m gonna show up in the fall. But…well…I’m not sure how to answer it.”

  “Why? They should be proud to have my sweet, smart son showing the rest of the kids how it’s done!” His mother reached out and touched him on his cheek, like she used to when he was a little boy.

  Kofi jerked back. “Ma! How are we gonna pay for it?” he said, exasperated. “Have you thought about that for even one minute?”

  “Yes, actually, I have.”

  Kofi looked at her, stunned. “For real?”

  “Have you already applied for the scholarship that’s given through the post office for children of employees?” she asked.

  “Yep. Filled out the application online and sent it a couple of months ago.”

  “My boy, you’re really on the ball,” his mother replied admiringly. “And what about the McDonald’s scholarship for students who work there after school?”

  “Yeah, I applied, but there’s, like, a million kids on that list. It’s a long shot.”

  “Did you check with your guidance counselors? I bet they’d know about other available scholarships,” his mother said hopefully. “Don’t smart kids get to go to school for free?”

  “Not anymore,” Kofi told her ruefully. “I’ve applied for several grants and loans, Ma. But I don’t know if I got any of them, and even if by some magic they come through, it still won’t be enough.”

  “We’d better speak to your father when he comes home. I’m sure he’ll have some suggestions.”

  “Like rob a bank?” Kofi said sarcastically.

  “Kofi!” His mother scowled. “Your dad can be very resourceful. And who knows? He might just win the lottery between now and the time you start packing your bags.”

  “Are you serious?” Kofi stared at her.

  “Hoo-boy! I need a drink.” She went to the cupboard to find a clean glass.

  Kofi slumped into a chair, knowing serious conversation with her would disappear into that glass of brandy. “Ma, should I mail the acceptance letter, or just go to one of the community colleges here?” He dreaded her response.

  “Mail the letter, Kofi,” she said. “Tell them you proudly accept their invitation to enroll in their fine institution.”

  “And the money?”

  “We’ll find it somehow. Have faith, son. Now get to bed—you have to be up early for school.” She poured three inches of brandy into a wineglass and took a sip.

  Kofi trudged upstairs to his room and quickly finished his homework. As he brushed his teeth, he heard his cell phone ring—he’d downloaded a really cool ring tone last month.

  “What’s up, man?” said Jericho when Kofi flipped open the phone.

  “Nothin’ happenin’,” Kofi replied. “Just talking to my ma about all the college stuff.”

  “How’s it look?”

  “Pretty grim right now. I live on the Cartoon Network, man. Except the ’toons got more sense than my folks do sometimes.”

  “Do they know you got accepted to MIT?”

  “Yeah, but I may
as well have been accepted to college on the moon. I don’t know how I’ll get there, or how I’ll pay for it.”

  “You can’t turn down MIT, dude.”

  Kofi flopped on his bed. “I haven’t mailed the letter back yet—I’m still hoping for a miracle. That’s what my father’s praying for.”

  “I feel ya.”

  “What about you? Did you ever get that Juilliard audition rescheduled?” Jericho had missed his chance to try out for a spot at the prestigious school when he chose to go to the initiation activities of the Warriors of Distinction instead. “I know your dad was pissed at you for blowin’ that off.”

  Kofi heard Jericho sigh. “Yeah, lookin’ back, it was pretty stupid, missing that shot, you know. So I called the man and he let me have a private audition a couple of weeks ago.”

  “That’s cool. How’d you do?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” Jericho replied with a laugh. “I played my trumpet so sweet and so good they wanted to change the name of the school to Jericho University!”

  “You crazy, dude. So is that where you’re going in the fall?”

  “Well, I also had a football scout from Michigan State come talk to me.”

  “Shut up!”

  “He’s offerin’ me a full ride—books and everything,” said Jericho.

  “Man! You think it’s too late for me to learn to play the drums or get good at ping-pong or something?”

  Jericho laughed. “You got straight As, Kofi. That ought to get you something. And I’ve seen you play ping-pong, so forget that one!”

  “So what are you gonna do? Which one are you gonna take?”

  “I don’t know yet, man. I applied to a couple of other schools too. Olivia says go with my heart and trust my gut, but I don’t know what that is. I just don’t know.”

  Kofi was quiet for a moment. “Funny. Dana tells me the same thing. Holler back tomorrow, man. Peace out.” He shut the phone.

  Kofi lay restlessly on the bed, thinking about his parents. He knew he’d have a hard time falling asleep. The prescription bottle in his pocket started calling out to him. Boy, if I don’t get out of this house soon, I’ll end up just like them.

  ARIELLE

  CHAPTER 17

  MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21

  ARIELLE PADDED DOWN THE HALL IN HER bare feet to shower and brush her teeth before bed. She loved the feel of the thick, cushioned carpet between her toes.

  I’m beat, she thought, stretching her arms above her head. I could sleep for a year. She yawned.

  Like a bad dream, Chad came out of the bathroom, startling her. He wore a lush black silk bathrobe with matching slippers. “Did you finish your homework?” he asked her.

  “Yes. All of it.” She hoped his interrogation would be brief.

  “Dinner dishes washed and put away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kitchen floor swept?”

  “Yes.” Chad employed a maid service that came in twice a week, but she couldn’t figure out why. It seemed like he made her do all the cleaning before they even got there.

  “You have exactly three minutes in the shower,” he said, glancing at his watch. “The water bill was a little high last month.”

  “I know,” she said with resignation. She started to ask him how long he’d taken in the shower, but she didn’t want to get into another confrontation.

  “You are so wasteful. I left you a bar of soap from one of my hotel trips and a half inch of toothpaste on your brush.”

  Arielle hated that hotel soap—it was harsh, didn’t lather, smelled like perfumed medicine, and made her skin dry and itchy. Plus, it was so small it barely filled the palm of her hand.

  But all she said was, “Thanks, Chad. Good night.”

  She closed and locked the bathroom door and leaned against the cool yellow tiles. Egyptian cotton towels and rugs the color of buttercups decorated the room. But like all the other rooms in the house, it seemed to Arielle to be just another pretty prison.

  She stayed in the shower a full ten minutes, just to spite Chad, and took her time drying off and putting on her pajamas and robe. The bathroom, warm and steamy, was a pleasant respite from the rest of the house, which Chad kept on the chilly side. She unlocked the door and headed to her room.

  The door of the bedroom her mother shared with Chad was slightly ajar, and she could hear their animated, agitated conversation. She knew she shouldn’t listen, but, well, they should have shut the door if they didn’t want her to hear, she reasoned.

  “Don’t tell me how to run my business or my household!” she could hear Chad saying.

  “I don’t care how you treat your clients, but this is our family, Chad.”

  “Even a family needs structure, Michelle.”

  “But…somehow it feels like…you’re using a hammer instead of a hug to control things,” her mother said hesitantly.

  “Hugs are a waste of time.” Chad’s voice was gruff.

  “Not to me.” Her mother was silent for a moment.

  Arielle tiptoed closer to the door.

  Chad said suddenly, “You should have met my father.”

  “You hardly talk about your dad.”

  “Army general. Tough. Hard. Proud. I felt his iron fist many nights.” Chad’s voice sounded tight and tense.

  I bet his dad was a real piece of work! Arielle thought, shaking her head.

  “That must have been rough for you as a kid,” Michelle said gently. “But surely he had a soft side too.”

  Yeah, right—Chad the huggable baby. Hah!

  “Heroes don’t hug.”

  “Daddies do.”

  Good one, Mom!

  “Perhaps. But fathers do not.”

  “Oh Chad, in some ways I feel sorry for both of you.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy, Michelle.”

  Then her mother asked, “Do you think Arielle is as strong as you were as a child?”

  Arielle leaned forward to hear better.

  “Arielle? She’s a puff of smoke.”

  So that’s what he thinks of me? Not that she was surprised, but it still hurt to hear him talk about her like that.

  “If that’s true, do you think maybe you’re too hard on her?”

  Good lookin’ out, Mom!

  “She needs discipline.”

  “Give her a chance, Chad. She’s just a kid.”

  Thanks, Mom.

  “By the time I was her age, I had a straight A average and I’d been accepted at West Point.”

  “She’s not you.”

  “Look, I don’t ask for much—just do things my way.”

  Of course! Because your way is the only way! What a narrow-minded piece of scum….

  “I know, but—”

  Don’t cave in, Mom. Stand up for me!

  “Aren’t you happy here?” Chad interrupted her.

  “It’s lovely. I love this house, the roses in the yard, the furniture, the paintings, even the plates and glasses. Every time I come in the front door, I take a deep breath and smile with pleasure.”

  Me too, but I’d never admit that to him.

  “Doesn’t all that make you happy?” asked Chad.

  “I can’t hug the carpet, Chad. It’s people who make happiness, not furniture.”

  Another good one, Mom!

  “I’ve never been one to show emotions, Michelle. You knew that when you married me. I’ve given you all I can. If that’s not enough, then…then…maybe it’s time to move on.”

  What? Uh-oh! But maybe this is a good thing.

  Her mother exhaled loudly. “Are we happy, Chad? When’s the last time we went out and did something just for fun?”

  “The office Christmas party,” Chad replied.

  “That wasn’t fun—that was a required appearance.”

  “You looked drop-dead gorgeous that night.” Chad’s voice went low.

  “Thanks, but what was I—just another holiday decoration?”

  Mom sounds sad, Arielle thought.

/>   “Michelle, what do you want from me? I’ve given you and Arielle so much.”

  “And we appreciate it, Chad.”

  “It can all go away, you know.”

  “Is that a threat?” her mother asked.

  I woulda asked the same thing.

  “I need to get some sleep,” Chad said, his voice dismissive and final. “I have to be at the gym at six. Turn off the light, Michelle. We’ll discuss this more at a later time.”

  “Should I make an appointment?”

  Good final jab, Mom.

  “I’ll ignore that. Go to sleep.”

  Arielle tiptoed back to her room, but it was a long, long time before she fell asleep.

  KOFI

  CHAPTER 18

  THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 24

  “QUIT HOGGIN’ ALL THE PIZZA!” DANA SAID with a laugh, grabbing the warm, greasy slice from Kofi.

  “Girl, don’t be messing with me and my food!” he said, snatching it back.

  “You had six pieces!” she cried out, pulling it away from him while he was in mid-bite.

  “Don’t you want me big and strong so I can protect you from monsters and dragons and stuff?”

  “I might need protection from your dragon breath!” she teased, holding her nose. “That garlic is kickin’!”

  He leaned over and breathed heavily in her face. “All to keep you under my spell, my princess!”

  “You’re wack, Kofi.” She snuggled closer to him on the sofa.

  “Seriously, I’m glad you stopped by, Dana. You always know when I need company—or food!” He grinned.

  “Where’s your mom?” Dana asked.

  “Who knows? Thursday is ladies’ night at lots of the clubs, and she gets in free. She’ll probably hit several of them before she drags in here.” He picked up a frayed sofa pillow and punched it.

  “And your dad?”

  “He’s at work, I think. He’s been taking late shifts at the post office. I gotta admit—he seems to be trying.”

  “I like your dad,” Dana said.

  “You do?”

  “Sure. He looks like you—only a little grayer and fuzzier. And he’s got a great sense of humor. He cracks me up with his corny jokes.”

  “Yep, that’s my pop. Always ready with a funny line and a tip on which horse is sure to win at Turfway.” Kofi sighed.