the passenger seat, Doug watched as Charles began massaging the area of his face where Cassandra had slapped him.
“Well, that was fun,” Doug said, trying to make light of the situation.
“I just don’t get it,” said Charles. “What happened back there? I mean, one minute her brother attacks me for no reason, and then when I defend myself, Cassandra up and hits me and threatens us?”
“I don’t know, Charles,” said Doug. “It was an explosive situation from the moment we met that guy. He definitely had a big chip in his shoulders.”
“Yeah, well I hope I knocked it off,” replied Charles.
“I think you did a little more than that,” responded Doug. “In fact, I think you went a little overboard, Charles. I mean, he was beat after the first few hits. You could have either stopped at the rear kick or the backfist.”
“I don’t know what came over me,” replied Charles. “Everything started flowing, Doug. After I hit him in his forehead with the upper backfist, before I knew it, I was in the air, and my foot was on its way to the target.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure,” said Doug, “this will be a night that old Kenny will never forget.”
“His name is not Kenny, remember?” Charles responded jokingly. “It’s Kenneth.”
“Well, after tonight,” said Doug, “I’d be surprised if he remembered what his name was.”
“What about Cassandra?” asked Charles. “I thought I knew all about girls. But after tonight, I think they’re just plain crazy.”
“First of all, she’s not a girl, Charles. She’s a woman. And secondly, you know how that old saying goes, ‘blood is thicker than water.’ It didn’t matter that Ken started the fight. In a situation like this, the only thing that mattered to her was that Kenny is her brother, and you are not. It was instinctive for her to come running to his rescue.”
“Yeah, but a gun?” responded Charles. “She threatened to shoot us with a gun. I thought she was supposed to be our friend.”
“Well, I guess that’s just the way that they handle things over here in EPA [East Palo Alto],” replied Doug.
“What does living in East Palo Alto have to do with it?” responded Charles, his facial expression showing that he was offended by the statement. “If you’re inferring that because they live in EPA and they’re black, then I don’t buy it. Look at my dad. He’s black, and you don’t see him going around threatening to shoot people with a gun.”
“Come on, Charles. I’m not prejudiced, you know that,” Doug said defensively. “I’m not trying to talk bad about black people. I am talking about East Palo Alto in general. You and I both know that it’s a fact that, due to guns, the murder rate in EPA is the highest in the state of California. Like it or not, most people consider EPA as a ghetto.”
“Yeah, well we both go to Ravenswood High School and it’s in EPA,” replied Charles. “Most of the people that we know at school are cool and would never act crazy like that.”
“That’s because of Sequoia Union High School District’s mandatory busing program,” said Doug. “They try to make sure that all the schools are ethnically balanced and socially integrated. That’s why some of the kids living in EPA are bused to other schools, and we were sent from our neighborhood to attend a school in East Palo Alto.
“Charles, you cannot compare the six hours that we spend at school every day with actually living in EPA. Even at school, we all tend to gravitate and socialize with people from our own neighborhoods. At the end of the day, Charles, you go back home to your parents’ nice big house in the very affluent neighborhood of Atherton. Unlike other black fathers, your dad is a senior vice president at Xerox Corporation, and your neighbors are Willie Mays and Shirley Temple.
“Now could you ever imagine Little Miss Good Ship Lollipop Temple pulling out a .45 Magnum or a twelve-gauge shotgun to settle a dispute at a crumpet party?”
“I can see your point,” said Charles, as they approached Doug’s house.
“We’re here!” Doug said, pulling into the driveway and shutting off the engine to the car.
“Turn on the interior lights,” Charles said, while lowering the visor so that he could look into the mirror. “She didn’t leave any scratches on me, did she?”
“You’re fine, man,” Doug said impatiently. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” said Charles, “but one thing’s for sure. I never want to see that crazy Cassandra ever again in life.”
“You’ll get over it,” Doug said, losing patience. “Now let’s get inside. My mom is probably furious that we’re so late, so you know what that means? We are going to have to make a good first impression on the relatives to keep her happy.”
“So in other words,” Charles replied with reluctance in his voice, “I’m going to be stuck entertaining any girl that your mom sets me up with.”
“You got it, buddy.”
Charles looks toward Doug. “Can this night get any worse?” he asked, his face showing defeat.
“You haven’t met my cousin yet,” Doug chuckles silently under his breath as they walk into the house.
Chapter 2
Part 1
The rays from the morning sun pierced through the window. The clock on the nightstand sounded its alarm. A hand reached out from beneath the blanket to search out and silence the instrument responsible for disturbing his slumber, but he soon realized that the effort was in vain, for the misty clouds of sleep were now gone.
Charles folded down the blanket to expose his eyes to the morning sunlight. Cupping his hands behind his head, he continued to rest on the soft pillow. It was Friday morning, but not just any morning to him. This had been the day he had waited for in great anticipation—the day that his father, Charles Gill Sr.—would leave on a three-week business trip to Japan. Except for the maid, he would have the house to himself. Charles smiled as he thought about his father’s car. With dad gone, now I’ll finally have the ability to go wherever and whenever I want, he thought to himself. Doug was right. This is the boring city of Atherton. Nothing ever happens here.
His mind flashed back to the previous conversation between him and his friend, Doug. He began to laugh as he tried to imagine old Shirley Temple in a fisticuff over a crumpet at one of her little social gatherings. It had been a week since the Cassandra/Kenneth episode in East Palo Alto; and as far as he was concerned, he never wanted to see Cassandra ever again.
Now it was a matter of deciding what strategy to use to try and get the keys to his father’s Ferrari. Dad is no simpleton, he thought. He would definitely spot one of my schemes coming from a mile away.
Just at that moment, he heard three long beeps from a horn of a car. Looking out from his bedroom window, he could see a black limousine parked in front of the house, and he knew that it had come to take his father to the airport.
“That’s it!” He exclaimed. “The old rush-him-out-the-door-before-he-knows-what’s-going-on technique. I’ll run downstairs and rush my father into the limo. Just before I close the limo door, I’ll slightly mention that I’ll be using the car to go to school. I won’t mention the Ferrari directly, so he won’t know which of the three cars I am talking about and will not say no. When he comes back from his trip and finds out that I have been driving the Ferrari every day without putting one scratch on it, then maybe he will start trusting me to drive it more often.”
Charles jumped out of bed and hurried to put on his clothes, eager to put his plan into action.
Part 2
Hearing the last sound of the horn from the limousine, Maria Lopez, who had