Portray

Work clothes

Citi Trends clothing store buzzes with a constant flow of customers pushing shopping carts around with garments of clothes slung over the top. In the department area, no children roam about. Commotion fills the store by shoppers conversing over old holiday tunes streaming from the speakers above. Their conversations consisting of small talk; such as what school their children attends to the uninteresting topics of extracurriculars.

"If I knew to come here for the holidays, I could've gotten my girlfriend a cute coat." Denise says, eying a brown "Pink" jogging suit she held in front of her.

"You must not wanna keep ya friend." Tray teases, fanning through a rack of men's pants.

"Whatever," Denise dismisses his response, "what they got y'all wearing at this plantation anyway?" She inquires.

"Uh. . Black and beige."

Denise's face cringes, "Them colors dry as hell." She comments, ignorance spewing from her face.

"Unless you took the advice from my mama to stay in school, you got no choice but to wear clothes these white men tell you to wear." Tray states, moving onto a different rack.

"I hear you, cuz, but that life isn't for me." Denise snickers arrogantly, shrugging her thin shoulders.
Tray glares at her with a look of disbelief.

"Boy you all looking at me crazy, I'm just telling you what's up."

"And what is up, Denise?" Tray stops what he was doing to hear her out."

"I'm working on a couple moves. I got a man to look after me. He pays my car note, the whole nine. He makes sure I don't need for nothing, period." Her words ends with emphasis.

"Period!" Tray mocks her. "and what does this man need from you?" His tone indicating he smelt bullshit coming."

"Why can't a man do for a woman without it being some ulterior motive type deal?"

"Do you hear yourself? You know nothing comes free in life, especially from a man with dick and balls." Tray states.

"You sound like my mama, boy!" 

"And you sound like you don't got the sense she blessed you with." Tray came back.

"Get off my case. He and I help each other. He wine and dine me, cause what nihga don't like a bad ass bitch?" She proclaims, twirling around to showcase her assets.

"You a whole mess, girl." Tray chuckles, going back to shopping.

A half an hour passes and he comes out the store with three pairs of pants, five Hanes cotton shirts along with a pack of socks and boxers in hand. Denise's Toyota Camry bends out of the lot and onto W. Outer Dr. As the car cruises along the medium flow of traffic, they come up to Redford Academy.  Cars lined up along the curb for at least a quarter mile. Tray looks down the sidewalk at the wave of kids pouring out onto the school grounds. He thinks back to the times he was in their shoes. How simple life was for him.

"The uniforms look the same as when I was in school." Tray says aloud.

"Tray, you've been gone for four years, not much has changed for real, besides the city going to shit." Denise replies.

"Yeah.. but it seems longer than that."

"So what school does Junior go to?" Denise asks, reading him like a book.

"Stevenson." Tray answers.

"In Southfield?"

With a nod of the head, Tray looks forward.

He couldn't tell, yet next to him, his cousin was behind the wheel conspiring a plan. The car turns onto Southfield freeway, heading northbound.

With Tray's seat reclined back, he was none-the-wiser of the car detouring out of the city limits. By the time they reached eleven mile, he was half asleep. The car ride was full of silence apart from the car rocking back and forth over the potholes. This causes Tray to to pop his head up, peering around the lot.

"Cuz, what you doing?" he asks, confused.

"Figured I'd surprise you with seeing Junior." Denise said, smiling optimistically.

Tray rubs his eyes like he's woken up from a deep sleep. His sight follows the bodies of kids. His cousin let the fuss blow over, staring ahead through the windshield.

"Tray.." Denise says, in a mellow tone.

He turns and looks at her.

"You ever think back to when you were a lil' kid? You know, like them. Shit was smooth than a mug." She was happy as she reminiscences of her childhood. The feeling almost nostalgic.

It was complete Deja' Vu. Ironically, he thought back to the same thing.

"You say that now. But I recall all them times you lost your shit cause your mama was on your head and kept tabs on you."

"Bro! How could I forget?" Denise says, her eyes beaming brightly as she thought back to her school days, "she still does to this day!"

The two reflect on their childhood in the company of silence. Tray didn't question whether if he could turn back the hands of time—to make some changes—he certainly would. He glances at Denise, and right then, he's reminded of the Essence of his youth that remained intact over the years. The innocence in her shone bright through her deep brown eyes.

"That gotta be Junior over there.." Denise points across the school yard. "the one with the Batman book bag."

He focuses in on a kid a few feet past the buses, standing on the grass off to the side. Instantly, the other children crowding around his son fades out. Junior looks to be out of place with his lunch box dangling to his side. Tray sat there in the car for a minute longer. After waiting, Denise lightly nudges his arm, then makes a face,

"Well, nihga you gone wait for school to start over?" she hisses.

"Wait here, cuzzo." Tray orders, stepping out from the car.

Denise watches him make his way across the lot and worm through the horde of kids and faculty members. At fifteen feet away from Junior, he somewhat expected Junior to notice him from out of the crowd. Just like in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies. Instead the kid scans the school lot.

Just as Tray was to close the distance between him and Junior, a woman dressed in a loose-fitting gray suit walks up, "Hi, buddy." She says sweetly. "mom is running a little behind, she'll be here shortly."

Tray stands on the sidelines watching his kid interact with a stranger. It's like he was a ghost: seeing his child in the flesh, yet his son was unaware of his presence. After a moment, he turns back heading in the direction of the car. He occasionally looks over his shoulder at Junior.

"Hey, how about we get you some hot chocolate, what'd you say?" Tray hears the woman propose to his son.

Back in the car, Tray watches from a distance. Neither him or Denise said a word. Moments later a gray minivan pulls along the curb behind the buses. Tray's attention focuses in on a woman stepping out, circling around the van and approaching Junior and the strange woman accompanying him. She stays there talking with the other woman briefly before her and Junior turns back toward the van.

Tray squints to get a better look at the woman with his son. From how far they are, he was unsure whether that was his baby's mother with his child.