Lessons || MJ

Lessons || Chapter 6

Author's Note: What do you think of Leslie now? I've also inserted a picture of The Kid and Tricky. Feedback is appreciated.

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LESLIE

The Kid just cried in my arms and pulled away with those red eyes before kissing the top of my head. I allowed him to drape an arm around me as we descended to another end of the warehouse. Bass the previous music hushed around us. The Kris Kringle security only bowed their heads, but I looked back to find Morris almost jogging behind us. He nearly Cheetah print suit meant nothing.

"Where's Tricky?" I whispered to The Kid.

We'd finally stopped moving down flights of straights. His faux-paus library self had machined its way into a secret door for the bachelor pad and mafia chamber. The symbol that overlapped between the letter P as well as a crucifix centered the floor. My favorite color purple outlined that nameless gang figure in the shape of a circle.

Again, I found myself enclosed by white bearded security. Still musclebound. The Kid and Morris trailed behind me and I took a careful seat behind his desk. Dark in the light to be exact. Morris lowered his head once more beside me in the other chair.

A surely unfilled black Glock rested alongside my favorite picture of Tricky, me and The Kid. We lifted champagne to the New Year as I rested my curls on the white sleeve of my best friend Jerome, the big brother I had never had.

I looked over to find Morris patting his eyes with a tissue. He passed the box to me, but I refused, puzzled.

"Nelson?" my voice whispered to The Kid. "What's going on?"

"Jerome died this morning, Piglet." Nelson turned away from me. The words just flew over my head as I glared at Morris in total disbelief.

"What?" I mumbled.

Nelson sighed and turned back around in his office chair. His eyes fixated on me. "This stupid cop shot him during one of my tasks this morning and he died at the scene. I'm sorry, baby."

"Load the bullets and give me your gun." I lowered my voice. There was only silence trapped within the walls of this underground room.

"No." The Kid never stopped looking in my direction. Morris even gazed at me, but I didn't even care. My brother just died. "You'll be killed."

I shook my head. "Fine. Did you at least catch the monster?"

In that moment, neither man responded. I squinted watching Morris rise from the chair beside me and leave. His gleaming Cheetah suit just raced away. I looked back to find the Glock missing from that desk across from me. I almost panicked. The Kid just folded both arms in his chair.

"I'll ask again. What is going on?!" I clenched my teeth immediately. "My brother's dead and you're not saying anything, Nelson! Did you kill him? Was it Morris? If I don't get answers, I'll ll smoke you right now."

He rose from the desk and shook open palms in front of me. Fear rushed over his usually calmed and serious face. "No, Piglet! No! It wasn't any of us. I swear!"

Fed up, I snaked around to his evil desk and shoved him out of the way. That Glock and its wonderful case of bullets rested safely in one of the drawers. Click. Open. Click-Click. Point. Now with that instrument loaded with death, I pointed the heavy gun in his face.

Mr. Tough Guy disappeared.

"Baby. What are you doing?" I shook my head as The Kid rushed to balance on his desk. Papers and the picture frame I loved so much dropped to the floor. Glass of the frame shattered. "Give me the gun and I'll tell you everything. Just put the gun down." His voice trembled without shame at a higher pitch.

I lifted the Glock to rest under this light chin. Tears welled as I croaked with a thick northern accent. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"We found Calvin!" The Kid shrunk down his voice. "Now just put down the gun."

"What do you mean?" I screamed, yanking him off the desk with my free hand, "My father's murderer is in here and you expect me to put this gun down?!"

Nelson failed to calm me down. I still pointed the gun at him without streaming tears "Baby, I've got him on lockdown in a strait jacket. We just didn't want you to panic like this."

"Well, great job. Now I can never come back to you." I answered with sarcasm and passed him the gun. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed.

It wasn't long before he unloaded that monster and slammed it back into the drawer along with those prized bullets. I fell to my knees in tears. His arms engulfed me as we both sobbed in the middle of that gang emblem. I'd become nothing short of frail.

**

DARRYL

Leslie returned to campus on Sunday. She and Yvonne remained quiet when I noticed them walking around. They both locked hands with lowered heads as both women sulked in black. Only a funeral would prompt such behavior. I walked back to the dorms and found Max jumping out of his Wrangler with a bag of Mickey D's.

"I just got back here." Max said. "What's with the long face, D?"

"Leslie's back. And I'm pretty sure she's just left a funeral." I whispered.

"Oh, damn." Max grumbled in response.

As soon as we both looked back, Leslie and Yvonne had disappeared. My patient grew thin and I planned to find them again, Max stopped by holding both of my shoulders. His grasp shook me back and forth at this moment. Barely any other classmates surrounded us here.

"Leave her alone!" Max shouted at me. "The last she needs is you suffocating her personal space right now. Someone died, Darryl. Jesus!"

"I don't care. Something's happened with those two and no one's said anything." I defend myself and shoved away from Max. "I'm gonna find out what's going on whether you like it or not."