Blind turn, p.4
Blind Turn, page 4
Connie was a dirty red head with a foul mouth who wanted to do things with him in the dark, but in the light of day, she was prone to following her White Supremacist husband’s lead. Joel didn’t party like that, and he was certainly not bringing a broken hoe to turn an ounce of soil that grew his food. He only hoped that today, she would be nice and helpful and pull back on the sexual overtures.
“This is a nice truck,” Dex said, pulling Joel out of his own head. “What year is it? I mean, it looks brand new on the inside, and it runs good too!”
“The truck runs well,” Joel gently corrected.
“That’s what I said,” Dexter answered, scowling at Joel, thinking his mentor had misheard what he’d spoken.
“No, you said the truck runs good. I corrected your grammar, letting you know that the truck runs well,” Joel said. “If anyone asks you, how you’re doing, the correct response is I am doing well.”
“Well, I’m doing good,” Dex added. “I like the truck.”
Joel didn’t respond. He also detested small talk. In his world, he needed a body to say what was on their mind. He could respond by acting upon what they said, ignore the request, or provide a quick response. That statement required him to ignore the kid, but he couldn’t ignore the next question.
“Ms. Tootie really loves you,” Dex supplied although no one asked his opinion. “I see you kinda like her, but not like she loves you. Are you gonna marry her?”
“Stop being nosey, and the answer is no,” Joel said.
“If you do, she needs cooking classes. I was thinking you were pretty bad ass to eat that greasy food.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
He hadn’t answered the question about the truck and Dex had a good sense that his mentor didn’t plan to answer anything. The boy took another tactic.
“If you ask me, and I know you didn’t, I think you’d be the guy to give your last chicken nugget. You know the last one in the bag,” Dex said.
Joel took his eye off the road for a quick three seconds to look at the boy as if his head were spinning around on its own volition. He didn’t know what the kid was talking about, and the analogy was too hard to piece together. Reluctantly, he was drawn in.
“Explain that one to me,” Joel encouraged, “because I don’t get it.”
Dex welcomed the opportunity to engage in a real conversation with an adult who actually listened. At least he thought Joel listened to him. Well, he hoped he listened to him.
“I had this real big crush on my classmate Greg,” Dex said, cutting his eyes at Joel for a reaction to him essentially coming out of the closet to the man he called mentor. There was no reaction, which prompted Dex to keep talking.
“We went to the mall on Saturday. Greg was getting a new pair of shoes, and I’d taken a twenty from my passed out foster mom,” Dex confessed. “We went to the food court and I ordered a twenty piece. I was so busy looking at how handsome Greg was, that I didn’t notice I had only eaten seven of the nuggets and only one was left in the bag. I gave it to Greg.”
“That didn’t make any damned sense. You bought a twenty piece, he ate twelve and the one remaining; you gave almost everything to the person who ate all your food,” Joel remarked.
“True, but at the house, there was a left-over box of chicken. I could eat when I got home, but Greg, I dunno, sometimes they had food, sometimes they didn’t. Plus, he was fine and fly and I wanted him to like me,” Dex said, looking out the window.
“Giving people your last will not make them like you. That wasn’t a very good analogy,” Joel said, wondering what the hell the kid meant. “And...if he had money to buy shoes, he could have bought himself a five-dollar burger meal.”
“Yes, Greg could have, but in order for him to trust that I wanted to be a good friend, I showed him that I was willing to share my last if it meant he didn’t go hungry for the night,” Dex added with pride.
“Still, it’s a no from me,” Joel said. “People will use you Dex. Again, if he had the money to buy a pair of shoes, then he could have bought a cheaper shoe and bought his own meal.”
“Jeez, you are so jaded!”
“No, you’re too naive.” He waited for a beat to tell the kid a hard truth about life. “Predators always select the weakest in the herd. A lioness, an alpha male wolf, and a tiger all hunt the same way. They pick the weakest in the group, separate that one mammal from the safety of the cluster, and attack. Greg is, was, whatever tense you want to use, is a predator.”
Dex was offended at the shoddy characterization. He folded his arms across his chest in defiance. This would be the last time he tried to make conversation with the man about things other than slopping the hogs, milking the cow, or feeding the chickens.
“You don’t even know Greg. What you’re saying isn’t fair or true,” Dex said, looking out the window, not wanting to face Joel or an even uglier truth.
“Dex, my promise is to be as honest with you as I can, but in return, you have to also be honest with me,” Joel expounded. “I said it because you have that I just want to be loved and accepted look written all over you, and I’m sure Greg saw it. He was the reason you stole the twenty dollars. In my opinion, I don’t think that is a thing you did on a regular basis.”
“What do you know about it anyway!”
The kid was becoming defiant, and the last thing he needed was for the boy to walk into the social worker’s office with an attitude; it wouldn’t bode well for either of them. Joel mentally took out a sharp knife and poked Dex in the side.
He started by saying, “If Greg knew you were gay and that you had a crush on him, he was going to push the envelope to see how far you’d be willing to go for him.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience,” Dex said.
“I am, but I wasn’t willing to put my life in danger to be a part of a group who only wanted me in because of the color of my skin,” Joel replied. “Normally, groups don’t want you because you’re black, but this crew did, and that to me was a red flag. As you go forward, notice the red flags. If you choose to ignore them because a handsome boy made your pants get tight, then life is going to be hard for you.”
It was the look on Dex’s face that told Joel everything he needed to know. He wouldn’t ask any questions on the particulars because hell, he didn’t want to know about any of it.
“Between now and the time you turn 20, you will have been in love, or what you think is love, six times over. Actual love hits differently. Makes you want to stand taller and be better, not just for you, but for the other person involved,” he tried to explain.
“‘So, what you’re saying is that Ms. Tootie don’t make you feel that way?”
“Tootie and I are two consenting adults, well aware of the choices we are making in order to spend time together Dex. What I’m telling you is that the need to be accepted can force you to make decisions based on an unfulfilled need that you don’t even know is driving you.”
“So, what drives you, Mr. Thomas since it’s not love?”
It didn’t require Joel to think about the answer for very long. “Justice. Justice drives me to stand up for the little guy.”
“I’m a little guy so you’re standing up for me,” Dex said, in a way that made Joel feel all itchy on the inside of his stomach.
“Yeah, we’ll talk about what you saw in me to throw out the Mommy and Daddy bit in front of Tootie,” Joel replied. “You’re not as dumb as you act.”
“Mr. Thomas, I’m not dumb at all,” Dex remarked and went back to looking out the window. “I really like this truck.”
AYANA MICHAELS CRIED herself to sleep. There wouldn’t be many more of these days she would be able to take. Before curling herself into a small ball, she tried Dexter once more and still no answer. It was Monday. The clock was ticking and if she didn’t hear back from him by Wednesday, she was going to take off on her own and do the best she could.
The current living situation she was in had taken a dark turn for the worse. He’d found out. He’d found out and she thought he would help, but he didn’t want to help. What he wanted was the opposite of assistance. He wanted to do more harm.
She had to leave.
She had no choice.
CONNIE BRASELTON WAS the Director of Social Services for Monroe County, a job as far as Joel knew was one, she worked by choice, not out of necessity. Billy Ray Braselton, her husband, who owned the largest farm in the county, was a beer bellied man who spoke with a twang. He’d never been anywhere, seen anything particularly interesting, and never really cared about how fancy folks did stuff. He considered Joel to be one of them fancy black guys who didn’t truly understand his place in the world. His wife wanted Joel to know she held a special place for him between her legs. Joel didn’t want any part of neither husband or wife and intentionally avoided the woman.
Well, until today. Today he had no choice and had to present his case to her, hoping she would help him out. The county wasn’t large enough to start moving kids into his place without first letting the locals know what was going on. The Sheriff had been made aware, and now, he had to deal with Connie’s trifling ass.
“Morning, Ms. Braselton; this is Dexter Lockhart,” Joel started by saying, pushing the boy into the office first. “I came home on Friday night to find him sleeping on my couch.”
Connie’s bleached blond head swiveled to stare at Dex suspiciously. She squinted her blue eyes at him only, eliciting a smile from Dex, who looked at Joel with reverence. He didn’t appreciate where her mind was going and quickly shifted the conversation.
“I called the Sheriff to report it, but after the kid lent me a hand around the old place, taking care of the animals and all, I figured, if I keep feeding him, he’ll eventually look like me, so I’m going to keep the boy around,” Joel added. “I want to get some paperwork started on him, get him prepared for school in the Fall, you know, foster parent kind of stuff.”
The overly painted red lips parted. The tip of her pink tongue snaked out as her eyes bored into Joel’s belly, moving down to his crotch. He took a step to the left to shield his man parts behind Dex.
“So, Joel Thomas, you’re going to walk into my office and openly tell me that some random kid broke into your house and fell asleep on your couch, and now you plan to keep him?” Connie said with wide eyes.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” he replied.
“And you want me to consent to this idea of yours and place this child in your hands, a single man, living alone on 40 acres with a cow, a mule, some chickens, and two cats,” Connie said. “It sounds to me like you’re gay and this boy is going to be in danger in your care.”
“Dex is his name,” Joel replied. “Have a seat Dex, please.”
Joel took one of the seats in front of Connie’s desk, intentionally with an overly exaggerated man spread. Her eyes immediately went low, trying to check out the goods. He adjusted the jeans by pulling a bit at the thighs, and Connie again wet her lips.
“Ms. Braselton, I have no idea what the boy is running from or how he ended up at my place, but I have room in my home and room in my heart to give him a safe place to sleep, a roof over his head, and three hots a day,” Joel told her. “I’m trying to get the documentation in order so people will know he’s there and a social service worker can come out, check on him, and make sure the kid is in a harmless environment. That’s why I’m here.”
“And what if I tell you no and call Big Jed in here to take the boy, and we put him back in the system and send him back to Conway?” she asked, indicating the conversation with the Sheriff had already taken place.
“You can do that,” Joel added, “and I will call my people, and he’ll be back on my couch watching Netflix after dinner.”
“Oh really? If that was the case, why didn’t you just do that first instead of coming here?”
“I came here because I thought we were friends. I foolishly believed that you loved your job and helping kids, and this kid needs help. I’m offering to help him, yet you’re treating me like some weirdo who’s trying to hurt a child,” Joel stated in a calm voice.
“I’m treating you like a weirdo because in my mind you are, Joel Thomas!” Connie exclaimed, slamming her fist on the desk. Dex jumped but Joel remained cool. “I have no idea why you think we’re friends and I sure as hell have no clue on this flat green earth why in God’s holy name, you think I would entrust the care of this child to you. It ain’t natural and I don’t like it. I don’t even think I like you!”
Joel leaned back in the chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head. He stared at the ceiling first, then looked around the room. The family photo on the wall of Connie with her red-headed husband and strawberry blond children was the opening he needed.
“Well, it kinda hurts my feelings to know you think I’m a weirdo. Secondly, the earth is round, and we can’t assume to understand what God’s plans are,” Joel confessed. “I learned that years ago in Ohio working the Summer Christian Youth Camps my father started when I was born.”
Connie was quiet as Dex watched Joel work. He knew it was a tactic, and although he couldn’t put his finger on what his mentor was doing, Dex knew to stay quiet and let the man work his magic. When the time came for him to jump in and do his bit, Dex would be ready. Connie would soon find out that she wasn’t closely ready for what was coming next.
“You? Worked at a Christian Youth Camp?”
“I did, and my father was also a youth pastor,” Joel said. “Once my parents died in the car accident, I went into the foster care system, and I know how rough it can be, which is why I want to help Dex. However, if to spite me, you want to hurt the chances of this young man being a productive citizen of Arkansas, do your best.”
“Listen at you sounding all educated,” she scoffed.
“I am highly educated as you know, but I’m also smart enough to bypass all the subordinates who work for you and come straight to your office,” Joel said, flashing a charming smile.
“My answer is still no,” Connie stated with a smirk.
“I thank you for your time,” Joel answered, standing up. “Dex, I’ll get on the phone with my people, and we’ll get this taken care of, quick, fast, and in a hurry. Wait here with the lady while I make the call.”
“Yes Sir, will do,” Dex replied as Joel left the office, closing the door behind him. “Fuck!” Joel mumbled.
The one thing he didn’t want to do, he was going to have to do, and it was only going to muddy the waters. However, this called for the big guns, and he was going to pull them out, cock, aim, and fire. His fear, in making the call, was that asking for a favor would require him to give something back. It was the giving something back part he didn’t like.
He walked down the front steps to his vehicle, slid behind the wheel and removed his phone. Joel punched one and waited for the familiar voice to come on the line. The call was answered after the third ring.
“State your need,” the Archangel said into the line.
“Merge here,” Joel said.
“Go.”
“Got a hiccup trying to do things the right way. A blond director, whom I refused to diddle behind the barn when her husband was away, is blocking the option to put papers on the kid,” Joel said.
“And?”
Joel said, “And she’s about to put him back in the system and return Dex to Conway. He left for a reason, and he deserves a chance, so I’m asking for help.”
Archangel paused for a minute, then asked, “How many more will you take?”
“How many more what? If you mean kids, I don’t really want the one you sent, but he’s here, so I want him to understand that not all adults suck,” Joel said. “Hold up, what do you mean how many more? I’m not shopping at the local Foster Kids are Us muther...hello? Hello?”
The line was dead, and Joel was pissed. That’s why he didn’t want to call the Archangel. Every favor the man did for you came with more ways to have to pay him back.
“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it,” he said, leaning his head forward on the steering wheel. He stayed that way for at least eight minutes. This he knew because he’d set the timer on his watch to see how fast the Archangel was going to work. At the eight-minute mark, he called him back.
“Ayana Mitchell,” Archangel said into the line.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Your new foster daughter who should arrive on Thursday, but you can’t be a grown man living alone with four foster kids. You need to get married,” the Archangel said, “One girl, two boys, plus Dex.”
“And you need to kiss my ass! I don’t want to get married; I don’t plan to get married, and why is this girl coming to me?” He asked.
“She’s in a bad situation which is turning worse by the minute,” Archangel said. “Ayana was supposed to have arrived with Dexter, but Mr. Mitchell, the father figure in this ugly scenario, took her money. In a day or so with Dex gone, she’s going to call Dex. He’s her emotional support. Thursday, I need you in St. Louis. She will arrive Thursday night and be at the house with Dex.”
“I’m not getting married,” Joel said.
“To keep your kids, you’re going to need to make the family official,” Archangel said.
“Who said I wanted kids...hold the hell up! Four! Way-a-minnit! You said four! What the hell am I doing with four kids? I didn’t ask for four kids!”
“Go back inside and get the boy. The girl can take your office. The other two boys can take the spare room; it’ll work out well. I’ll be in touch,” the Archangel said and ended the call.
