Chapter Two Excerpt

{A toast as we read...}

Camille Clayton usually left the house at eight o’clock every morning. She was predictable that way. She didn’t have to be at work until nine, but Mrs. Clayton liked to be early to most everywhere she went. Her husband, Robert, knew that about her.

During the school year, Marcus usually arrived at his grandparents’ house around seven-thirty every morning. The only exception was when he spent the night with his father’s parents, which was most of the time. And like his grandmother, whom he called “Ma’dear,” Marcus was predictable. Robert knew that, too.

Ma’dear and Robert, or Poppa C as Marcus called him, lived next door to their son and his wife, which provided an excellent convenience with regards to childcare. It had been that way since Marcus was born. Though he was not the oldest grandchild, he was the only boy, and was Poppa C’s favorite. It was a given that Marcus would be wherever his grandfather was and that fact was never challenged or questioned. It just was.

For the most part, Marcus practically lived next door because Launa and Jewel both worked long hours most days. This left their only son alone. In a big house. By himself. Even with Marcus having been trained to check in with his grandparents before and after school and even with him playing football at the Bradhurst Club, adult supervision was still needed for a youth as creative as Marcus had become. So, when Jewel and Launa said “check in,” they meant, “Take your butt to your grandparents’ house and stay there until we come get you.” And that’s just what Marcus did.

During the summer months, the routine was virtually the same. Ma’dear would leave at eight o’clock and Marcus would show up a short while prior, and always just in time to eat breakfast before he was out the door and up the street to visit his friends. His ritual.

At eight-thirty, Poppa C’s Barber Shop would open for business with the flicker of fluorescent lights and the sound of jazz music as the side entrance would open and the screen door was unlocked. At eight-forty-five, a tall, slender, honey brown-skinned woman would walk through the side entrance, close the door, lock it, and slide out of her A-line dress. By nine o’clock, there was no mistaking the lady’s yells for anything other than pleasure. At a little after ten o’clock, the lady would be redressed and headed toward the side door to go about her day. That was also usually when Marcus would appear in the doorway, scowling.

“What, Dino?”

Marcus generally refused to answer.

“If you came to clean the shop, wait until later this evening.”

“I didn’t come to clean the shop. You just opened up.”

“Then why you standing there giving me the evil eye?”

“’Cause I hope you catch something.”

“I’ma catch yo’ little ass and beat it.”

“I’ll tell Ma’dear you doing the oochie coochie with Miss Anna.”

“And I’ll kill you.”

“You better watch yourself, Granddad. I’m your biggest ally.” Turning to head back up the hill, Marcus would add, “Or your biggest enemy.”

That was their relationship. Marcus and Robert Clayton. The ten-year-old and his grandfather. Unfortunately, that was the way they interacted for years after the first time Marcus walked in on his grandfather, having sex with someone other than his grandmother.