(But does this mean they haven’t forgotten about him either?)

* * *

   LikeIWasSaying,MontreyCameByCuzHeSaidHeSawGabeInThePark”LookinAllSad,”SoHeWantedToMakeSureEverythingWasOkayAnd—

   IDunnoWhatHappened…

       She’s wholly in her own world now. REliving as she REcalls. Which makes the whole thing, and the fact that she’s sitting here in front of him sharing it, seem a little less RIdiculous.

* * *

   EverythingJust…​CameOutIGuess,​IWasSoStressed​OutAndHadn’t​BeenSleeping.​NextThingIKnow,​I’mCryin’​AndMontrey​IsHuggin’Me​AndHe’sSaying​SomethingAboutHow​”YouKnowAnyFam​OfQuanIsFam​OfOurs”And​”WeGonMakeSure​Y’allTakenCare​OfMs.Trish,”​ThenHeLeft​AndAFewHours​LaterHeAnd​AFewOfYour​OtherFriends​ShowedUp​WithGroceries​AndMadeMeGet​OffMyFeetAndA​GirlHeIntroducedAs​”MyLadyHere”​CameInAnd​CookedDinner​AndCleanedUp​AndTheyLEFTAn​EnvelopeWith​EnoughMoney​ToGetUsThrough​TheMonthAndI​Don’tKnow​WhereTheMoney​ComesFromAnd​Ain’tSureI​ReallyWantToBut—

* * *

   She shakes her head, realizing where she is, and seems to slip back into her body. Quan’s been staring at her the whole time, and they finally look at each other.

   He definitely ain’t got nothing to say now.

   “Anyway,” Mama says, breaking the eye contact. “Sorry for shakin’ you up by coming here. I just—”

              (Please let her say she wanted to see me…Quan thinks.)

   “Well, I just thought you should know.” She sniffs. Turns away from him now. And Quan knows right then he won’t feel his mama’s gaze on him again. “About your sister.”

       “She know you were coming to tell me?” he says, though he already knows the answer.

   He watches her chest rise and fall with force. “She didn’t really want you to know.”

   “I figured. Well, thanks for telling me anyway. Not much I can do, obviously—” though I wish there was more, he doesn’t say.

   She nods. Just once.

   “Gabe really does miss you, though.”

   Quan smiles in spite of himself. “Tell li’l man I miss him too. Imma see him soon—” It’s past his lips and dangling in the air out of reach before he can snatch it back.

              HOPE.

   Now Mama’s eyes do latch on to him again. Skeptically. And maybe even a little…protectively.

        But not of him.

   “Yeah, okay, LaQuan,” she says, clearly done with the conversation. She rises from the table. “You take care of yourself in here.”

              Done.

   It almost chokes him on the way out—especially after hearing her give up on him again—but Quan manages a “Yes, ma’am.”

   His mama motions to let a guard know she’s

              done.

       “Just wanted you to know stuff ain’t been easy, but everything’s all right.”

   As she walks away, though? Without a single glance behind her?

   Quan wants to cry out:

   How can anything be “all right” when me being HERE is all wrong?

June 14

    Dear Justyce,

    I’m…not in a great place right now. Found out some shit about my sister and…man, I don’t even know.

    So my moms came through—with bad news obviously, cuz why the hell else would she pay a visit to her wrongfully incarcerated firstborn. And looking PAST the fact that it dredged up all this unresolved “mommy-issue” shit I know Tay is gonna be riding my ass about for the next who-knows-how-long, the stuff Mama TOLD me threw me into such a damn tailspin, I had a full-blown panic attack in the hallway on the way back to my cell. I think the superintendent almost shit his pants.

    “Damn, homie. What exactly did she tell you?” I can hear your goofy ass saying (which actually makes me feel a little lighter, won’t lie). The long and short of it is that my crew has been helping her out.

    I was real surprised at first. Truth be told, I thought all them fools had moved on. Washed their hands of your boy and went on about their lives. Guess it’s safe to say Tay’s prolly right about me having some sorta abandonment complex.

         (Pause: not sure how I feel about the fact that my counselor pretty much lives inside my head now.)

    Anyway, like I was saying, I guess deep down I’ve been convinced that everybody I really gave a damn about—in what feels like a whole other life—has forgotten about me. Can’t none of them visit me obviously, but my moms never did either. And the only person who’s ever written to me in here is you.

    And fine: I can’t imagine none of my dudes sitting down to handwrite no letter. Even knowing all that, though, after a while, the silence makes a dude start to think certain things.

    Hearing that they not only haven’t blotted my existence from their memories, but are helping take care of my family when I can’t? That shit has me ALL messed up, man.

    Not sure if you read poetry (if you don’t, you should. Doc got me hooked.), but there’s this one stanza from a poem by this dude named Jason Reynolds that keeps coming back to me:

jason jason grind and grit

    don’t forget you’re not alone

    for everywhere is where you fit

    and everyone feels just the same

It’s actually a poem about going too hard and being tired and needing a rest, but seeing my mama reminded me of what it felt like to be held down by dudes who got me. Knew where I came from, understood what I been through, and held me down even when my own mama had given up on me. The fact that they’re now holding HER down, just because she’s connected to me…That’s got me feeling some type of way, man.

    All I can think about now is if (when?) I DO get outta here, don’t I gotta go back?

    Wouldn’t a real man ensure that his debts are paid? That those who stood in for him are shown appreciation not only through his words, but through his deeds?