The White Fence

17. The Rejected Lover

            Patrice didn’t waste any time in shedding her sweater once we were outside the church yard. Even though it was early November, it wasn’t yet cold, but that didn’t stop Mrs. Gordon from demanding that her daughter still carry a sweater with her. Patrice gave the discarded sweater to Marcus to hold. “Umm….I’m telling,” he chided.  

            “You do and you’re dead,” she returned with a smile.

            “Now…uh…children…” Marcus began, imitating Pastor Johnson. “Tha lawd….I said…Tha lawd commandeth you to be-uh in obedience to your parents…and when…I said when-uh they command  you to wear-uh sweatuh…you best keep it on your-uh body.”

            The four of us broke out in a fit of laughter, fueled by Marcus’ friend, Lamont’s, play-by-play of this morning’s sermon. Pastor Johnson was just so over the top that he was easy to imitate and Lamont did it to perfection.

            When we reached Hatter Street, Marcus and Lamont went one way, heading back to their houses, and Patrice and I continued on towards the Trick without them. My shoes kept pinching the sides of my feet, and I contemplated where I’d get money for new shoes. I wondered if my mom would pose too big of a resistance about me getting a job. Most of the places that you could work around the Trick went to the kids of the shop owners, but maybe I could get a job at the book shop, or at one of the department stores downtown.

            Even though it took them nearly 45 minutes to change and come back, the courts were still pretty empty when Marcus and Lamont met back up with us. Patrice’s church started early, and was one of the first to get out for the day, so the rest of the Sunday crowd hadn’t made it out, yet. While they waited for more players to join them, the two of them started passing the ball back and forth between each other. When a third person showed up, that turned into a game of H-O-R-S-E, which morphed into a game of two on two, before slowly transforming into a full five-on-five game.

            The courts slowly began to fill, and Patrice became more interested in who occupied them, than in her brother’s game. “I’ll be right back,” she declared.

            “Pat-,”

            But she was gone, off to talk to one of the guys that was hanging around on the benches in between courts. I tried to figure out if I knew the guy from somewhere; if I’d seen him around, but he didn’t seem familiar despite Patrice seeming as if she knew him pretty well, or was getting to know him pretty well, at least. Although she was hurting from her recent break up with Darnell, it didn’t seem as if it was going to slow her down. That was all well and good for her, but I’d come along to help cheer her up, and now she was gone and I didn’t even have a book to keep me occupied during her absence.

            I was reconsidering our friendship when a guy walked into my field of vision, leaning against the far end of the bench I was sitting on. “What’s tha score?” he questioned conversationally.

            I gave a look over at the speaker. I didn’t recognize him, but he smiled at me as if we were acquaintances, showing off the slight gap between his two front teeth. I gave him an embarrassed smile. “I couldn’t tell you,” I admitted. I’d given up attempting to keep track of the score a long time ago.

            My visitor gave a chuckle. “How about we say it’s close. I’m Coley,” he said casually.

            I told him my name, and since he hadn’t held out his hand, I extended mine. He gave a glance at it before he shook it, smiling slightly. “You ain’ from here, is you?” he questioned. “I’d uh rememba if I’d seen you before.”