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( CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU GOT GAME? ) March, 1992
❝ if you really cared you would've stayed. ❞
◯
Devon's raw knuckles banged onto the front door, the young man's stomach twisting into a bundle of nerves as he waited for someone to answer. Devon stood there in a flustered mess, fearing what was waiting on the other side. He rarely ever thought of his childhood home as something to be fearful about, but after his uncle informed the young man's about his mother's absence, he was incredibly scared that his suspicions would be confirmed.
Was his mother mad at him? Sad? Feeling abandoned? All possible options made Devon's stomach churn with worry, and that was something he didn't need to think about. His mind was already occupied with constructing an entire dance number from scratch, he didn't need another problem to be sitting on his plate.
As Devon stood there on the front porch, his heart suddenly leaped out of his chest once the door cracked open, the male's eyes widening in surprise as he dumbly stared at his mother, who stood in the doorframe expectantly. "Mama?" Devon uttered, a sense of relief filling the male's body at the sight of her.
The older woman gave him a subtle grin, blinking at her distant son nonchalantly. "Dev? What are you doing here?" She asked, leaving the door open as the male warily stepped inside. His gaze trailed after the woman, who appeared to be in perfect shape. She walked down the length of the hall, not looking as distraught as Devon would've imagined.
When his uncle told him about his mother's sudden absence, Devon honestly expected to see her in a wreck, or worse, hurt. However, as Devon's eyes examined the clean, organised house and the gleaming floors, it appeared that his mother was in better shape than ever. "Aren't you supposed to be with Arkell at his game?" Devon's mother asked, disappearing in the kitchen to collect the baked goods she normally made for special community occasions.
"Uh yeah, uncle took him, I'm gonna head over there soon," Devon said, furrowed brows still knotted in confusion. The male waltzed through the living room, his eyes immediately landing on the TV once he saw a news headline boldly presented on the screen.
"Opening arguments begin today in Southern California in a case that shocked the Los Angeles Police Department, revealing a video tape of the brutal beating of Rodney King..." the news presenter said, and Devon's brown eyes narrowed at the flickering screen. He remembered the day the breaking news about Rodney King's videoed assault dropped. The entire neighbourhood was outraged by the story, already spewing their dislike for the police, the system and the entire country. Devon, to put it lightly, shared those same sentiments.
The young man was appalled by the news. He thought back to his previous run-ins with the police, and remembered that in each moment, despite being fuelled with anger, he admittedly feared for his life. Almost a year later the trial for those officers was commencing, and Devon had to see them be brought to justice.
