Mid-Fall 2009

As Derek had anticipated, his family's reaction to Malakai's release was far less positive. Chenille demanded her brother not to get back in with him. This gave the college student more incentive to keep their previous encounters quiet. Unlike his impervious sister, Momma Dean accepted the news albeit resignedly. Christopher's indifference only existed because he didn't know who Malakai was. To be fair, the boy was too innocent to understand how crime-ridden Englewood was.

Another string of kidnappings had popped up in the past month. Chenille would stay with Christopher until he was on the school bus every morning. Momma Dean also heard some talks in the community about a neighborhood watch. She cited how most folks didn't see it for the AMBER alert system due to its strict criteria. And, of course, there was the usual collective distrust of police. Because of these, a handful of protective guardians instead took matters into their own hands. One snatcher was brazened to grab a kid in broad daylight. He was caught in time and given a heavy dose of street justice. Ironically, the police arrested the citizen vigilantes. That whole mess was the most discussed subject on the news. However, Derek didn't know about it since he had other things on his mind.

All students at Kennedy-King College were obligated to appear on campus for midterms. It was also on that particular Wednesday Christopher's class had their class trip to the DuSable. While his hopes for having his uncle with him were dashed, his mother volunteered to be a chaperone. She would have to put in overtime for the next two days. On another note, Derek could've sworn the third grader mumbled something about Kenny. He didn't dare to ask him to repeat in front of Chenille. For all he knew, she might still be hung up on her son's father.

It would take five days for the exam scores to be posted. To take his mind off that, the college student delved into his oft-mentioned job search. He applied for four to seven different places in two hours. It would take weeks to reach a response; however, there was two underlying issues. The Great Recession, for one, slimmed a large number of blue-collar jobs down in its wake. White-collar jobs nowadays were the majority in Chicago. On a related note, the ideal candidate those companies sought was someone with a Bachelor's or Master's degree. Neither of which Derek had. He couldn't afford to be picky.

Momma Dean came home around 4:30pm with Chenille and Christopher. Mother and son had a wonderful time at the DuSable. They spent the whole dinner, recalling the exhibits they saw and which of them were their favorites. Momma Dean asked most of the questions. She approached her disengaged grandson afterwards. "You seem rather quiet."

"I didn't feel like talking much."

A moment later, the Reynolds matriarch hushedly spoke, "Have you spoken to Malakai Harris since he got out?"

Derek was taken aback by her question. "How did you…?"

"That alone says it." She paused for a moment before she spoke again. "It ain't my business who you should be around, but I do have my concerns."

The college freshman tried to push any thoughts regarding his former friend's phone call. "He drives the bus all day. He ain't got time to run game." Still, one question was itching to come out of him. "Moms, do you think prison can really change people?"

"It could. Why? Do you believe something happened with Malakai?"

"Nah, just wondering," he minimized.

"Well, if you see him again, don't get your hopes too high. It's easy for folks to backslide."

On Monday, Derek accessed his midterm results through a laptop he borrowed from campus. He received a C in his Fundamentals of Speech Communication course. His professor in General Education Math gave him a B minus. The college freshman should be glad he wasn't flunking. After all, his GPA was still deemed "acceptable". But Derek wasn't happy. It was as if he was sinking into an existing blankness. He just logged off his student portal without a second thought.

Derek opened a new tab and typed "Directions to Cornerstone Residential Reentry Center for Men" in the search engine. He found out it was a 30-minute car ride from the apartment. As he was preparing to print, the college freshman got a phone call. "Hello?"

"Hey," Chenille answered. "Momma Dean just called."

"Is she okay?"

"She's alright. Can't say the same for her car. It broke down on South Green Street. Mind picking her up? Sharice won't let me leave work early."

"Nah, I'll go." Derek called his grandmother to inform her that he was coming to get her. En route, he found himself outside Stepps. The college student hadn't visited there since that night he left with Nikki. As usual, there was no crowd of eager patrons waiting for entry. He noticed something else on the graffiti-coated door. Derek parked his car to have a closer look. An official document was sealed in plastic. It read:

Due to an increase in property rent, this venue will be closed on January 1st, 2010, by the Order of the Mayor of Englewood.

A wave of incredulity engulfed him whole. Staggering backwards, he accidentally bumped into a pedestrian. The student turned to apologize; he immediately froze upon seeing her face. "Sara?"

"Hi," she frostily remarked. Her focus was monopolized on the resting toddler in her arms. Much to the elder Johnson's relief, Samara remained undisturbed. "As much as I'd like to talk, we need to get home." She tried to continue walking away. However, her ankle strain couldn't be masked.

Derek stopped her, quizzing, "Need a lift?" Sara quietly glared at him, but her expression soon indicated a wavering refusal. She situated herself and Samara in the back seat of his car. The younger Johnson napped soundly on her mother's lap. When the college freshman glanced in the rearview mirror, he observed how Sara stroked her daughter's head. Derek tried to break the silence. "You know we need to stop meeting like this, right?"

"I was actually waiting to see you again," she obfuscated.

"For real? Why?"

"You tell me." The dismissive passenger indirectly met his gaze. "As a matter of fact, why don't you start with how you found Samara that day at the mart?"