Tears of a Tiger (10 page)

FEBRUARY 20

—Hey, Monty, what's up? Watcha doin' there, little brother?

—Hi, Andy. I'm colorin' this picture for my teacher. It's real live homework, just like you do.

—Yeah, I wish mine was still that easy. Is that a poster for Brotherhood Week?

—Yep. It says, “All for one and one for all.”

—Hey, that's pretty good reading for a little dude.

—This is nothin'. Last week, my teacher gave me a book with
chapters
in it. Watcha think of that?

—Chapters? I didn't know they put chapters in first-grade books. You too heavy for me. How come all the people in your picture got yellow hair?

—'Cause that's the prettiest color hair. These are special people in my picture and I want them to look real nice, so they gonna have yellow hair.

—You crazy, kid. What about this little girl here? She looks black to me—she's got fuzzy little braids and a real nice smile. Don't you have any brown crayons?

—Nope. She gonna have fuzzy little
yellow
braids.

—Why don't you make her look like Keisha? She's got pretty brown skin and curly black hair. You like Keisha, don't you?

—She's okay. You the one that's crazy about Keisha, not me.
I
like girls with yellow hair.

—You're a hopeless little dude, Monty.

—Actually, I like colorin' Africa pictures better than this kind of pictures—with no people in it. You know—lions and tigers and dinosaurs and stuff.

—Lions and tigers and
dinosaurs
?? That's some combination.

—Yep, and giraffes and dragons too. Hey, Andy, can I ask you somethin'?

—Sure, kid. Lay it on me.

—Do tigers cry?

—I don't know, Monty. I never thought about it, but I don't think they do. Why do you ask?

—Well, I drew a picture last week at school, and the teacher wanted to know why I put tears on my tiger. I told her he was very sad. Like you get sometime.

—You're somethin' else, little man. If you want to put tears on your tiger or dragons in your jungle, you tell your teacher that your big brother said it was just fine.

—Okay. Hey, Andy, can you take me to see that new dinosaur show at the museum?

—No, buddy, I can't—I can't drive—remember?

—Oh, did you forget how to drive?

—No, I'm not allowed to drive anymore.

—Why? Were you bad?

—Yes, Monty, I was bad. I was really, really bad…. Now go wash your hands and get ready for dinner.

FEBRUARY 25

—How's that Andy Jackson doing in your class, Sheila?

—Well, he was no superstar to begin with. I guess now he's somewhere between failing miserably and squeaking by with mercy. He's not a bad kid. I understand he's pretty good in basketball. Maybe that will be his escape. That's what they all think anyway.

—Does he seem like he's bouncing back from that accident he was in a few months back? Wasn't he in counseling for a while?

—Yes, but I understand he's been dismissed by the psychiatrist as “stable.”

—Stable? Look, I had Robbie Washington in my history class and it still upsets me. That kid watched his best friend die. How could he be stable after only three months?

—You know what? Just between the two of us, I don't think that accident affected him that much. Black kids are tough. They see a lot in life that we never experience. For example, that kid Gerald Nickelby, whose stepfather beats him up. Everybody knows about it. The police arrest his dad every few months or so. They go to court and Gerald ends up right back down there with the stepfather regaining custody. Like I said, they're tough. A white kid would have cracked under the pressure that Andy went through. But do you know what Andy does? He's always cracking jokes and making the other kids laugh. That young fool set off a bottle rocket from my window last month. The kids thought it was hilarious. They were all standing by the window cheering, when I walked in.

—Yes, you may be right. I heard he was going to be the master of ceremonies for that awful talent show they have. There's no real talent. All they have is that loud, disgusting rap music. Remember last year? That sweet little Donna Correlli was booed off the stage when she tried to sing opera.

—Oh, don't get me started about rap music…meaningless, mindless noise. Well, there's the bell. I'm giving my first bell a pop quiz. Don't forget the human relations committee meeting tonight after school.

—Okay, see you then.

MARCH 9

MARCH 15

MARCH 15

MARCH 30

—Ladies and Gentlemen!! Welcome to the Fifteenth Annual Hazelwood High School Talent Show. And I, Andrew Marvelous Jackson the First, will be your magnificent Master of Ceremonies! We'll be rappin' and scratchin' and bumpin' and jumpin'! We gonna electrify your senses and bombard your brain with the sounds that make you want to get down! So,
let's get busy!!!

 

—Rhonda, come here. You wanna see a striptease show from backstage? Stand here by the curtain so they can't see you from the audience.

—Girl, Keisha, what are you talkin' about?

—Look at Andy! Look what he's doin'!

—He's takin' off his clothes! No, he's just pretendin'. Wait a minute—he took off his shirt! Everybody's dyin' laughin'! Oh, no! He wouldn't dare! He's unbucklin' his belt! This is
too
funny! Keisha, he's crazy!

—Rhonda, look! Mrs. Jawes is starting down the aisle! I don't think she finds it very funny.

—Psst, Andy! Old Thunder Jaws is headin' your way!

—Whew! He's putting his shirt back on. And the song is almost over. Did she go back to her roost?

—Yeah, but she's got daggers in her eyes.

—Rhonda, speaking of eyes, could you see Andy's face while he was dancing out there?

—The lights made it hard to see, but yeah, I did notice that his face looked funny.

—You know, with all that laughter and silliness out there,
Andy wasn't smiling.
Shhh, here he comes…

—You're doing a great job out there, Andy. They love you. That was
so
funny when you pretended to do that striptease in the background while Rashawn was singing, “Baby, Baby, Please!”

—Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is your group ready to sing, Keisha? If you'd spend more time gettin' yourself together and less time spyin' on me, this show could get over with by midnight. We ain't got all night, you know.

—Hey, you don't have to talk to me like that! I was just trying to compliment your stupid behind!

—What did I say? I just asked you if you were ready.

—It was the
way
you said it.

—Sometimes you get on my nerves, Keisha.

—Me? You've got to be kidding! Do you know what I put up with from you? If I hear one more sob story from you, I think I'll puke!

—So that's the way you feel about it! I thought you cared! I thought you were the only one in the world who really, really, cared!

—I
do
care, Andy. It's just that sometimes it's just too much!

—Why don't you just go to hell!

—I believe that's what I'm getting out of. Good-bye, Andy.

—Wait a minute! You can't leave! What about your song?

—
You
sing it!