Chapter Twelve

Andy sat in the bleachers at the Blair High football stadium thinking about the last few days. While JB and his friends were on their way, the five-hour conversation with Leslie last night on the phone was still replaying in his mind.

It ended with Andy and Leslie having a Tuesday night date to hear Philip’s concert at the Oblique Club and at Houston’s on Peachtree Road in the trendy Buckhead section of Atlanta.

Andy watched as some neighborhood kids played touch football on the high-school football field. If they were caught they would be in trouble. Some other kids were sitting on the seats at the edge of the stadium, where the football team sat during games, talking about life in Charlotte Road. The stadium was open because joggers were using the all-weather track to put in some miles.

Andy listened to the conversations as they talked about the deaths of so many young people. They were shaking their heads as they discussed how a senior had died each of the last four years during prom weekend.

Then they really became animated, talking about the death of Coach Tompkins.

“That’s a lot of bullshit, I don’t think he died because of a car accident. Somebody killed Coach.”

“You think so?”

“You know he was helping too many black kids get away from Charlotte Road and find better lives. These old-time white folks that run this town only want to keep us down and in this poverty rut… look at our school and look at all the new schools around us in Gwinnett and even Barrow County. Coach was doing too much to help us improve the lives of not only the athletes, but all the young people in Charlotte Road. He was killed!”

“You may be right.”

The players on the field yelled for the two on the bench to join them in the game of touch football. Andy wanted to hear more of the conversation.

Andy watched and thought about the death of his two close friends in Barrow County, before he’d left for Brooklyn. His friend John-John had been lying at the front door when the firemen busted the door down and found his body, along with his little brother’s. When his other friend drank alcohol, Andy had many times felt tempted to follow his example, until Raymond had died that slow way.

Andy looked up and saw JB, and his friends Darius and Mark walking alongside the track. Darius alerted JB and yelled, “Mr. Pilgrim.”

Andy waved at the three young men as they made their way up the steps.

“Thanks for coming,” JB said. “These are my friends Darius and Mark.”

“I remember them. I believe they were listening in on our interview.”

“That’s was one of the reasons I told you we were not alone. I sensed they were there, along with others.”

Both acknowledged Andy with a handshake.

“Great seeing you again, JB… sorry it had to be like this.”

“Mr. Pilgrim, I don’t know what you can do, but Coach Tompkins was a great man and helped so many people….”

“Before you got here, I heard those wannabe football players talking about him.”

Darius smiled, “JB, it’s only the boys from the Bottom playing tag football…. What a bunch of losers.”

“I know, as if they knew anything…. Mr. Pilgrim, here’s the scoop. Coach Tompkins was asked to resign, a polite way of saying you’re fired, because certain board of education members wanted one of their colleagues’ son to be the new basketball coach. They’ve gone to the Professional Standards Commission that oversees all teachers with some trumped-up charges. I asked coach about that and he said the commission told him he ‘might’ have violated rules, and suspended him for a month in July. If he was guilty, it would have been more than a month in July.

“Also, Coach Tompkins knew about certain drug dealings with some staff members in the school. This was a chance to get rid of him so he couldn’t expose them and the people in the community who were supplying them with drugs to make available for distribution in and around the school.”

Andy leaned back. “Wow.”

“Mr. Pilgrim, we may be young, but we know what’s going on. These people are vicious. If you get involved, your life will be in danger. The only reason they haven’t tried to silence me or other students is because they know it would bring undue attention. Charlotte Road is a major drug-distribution point for people in the metro area.

“Mr. Pilgrim, can we count on you to help? Don’t look at our age. Even if Darius and Mark aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer… we can help and we know a lot.”

Andy’s thoughts flashed through his mind as he looked at the faces of JB, Darius and Mark. This would be like one of those Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple mysteries, except now he would be in the middle.

This would be deeper than anything he’d ever been involved in his life. He was thinking fast and furious. There was too much on his mind, with vicious cousins trying to steal and sell the old homeplace, some people at The Defender trying to take his job because they thought he was an uppity Negro, many ghosts were after his very being—and now these kids wanted to get him involved in solving a murder with drug implications. The last time this happened in Philadelphia, people died violent deaths.

For so many years he’d sat on the sidelines and watched life happen. Now he had to get involved, no matter the consequences.

Andy raised himself up and looked at the threesome. “JB, Darius, Mark, I will do what I can to get to the bottom of all this. It will be dangerous and it will not be easy. I will do some investigating and see what I find….”

“Mr. Pilgrim…”

“Please call me Andy.”

“Andy… we have to do this. For too long black and white folks have sat back and been the victims. Now, it’s time to act.”

“JB, you’re a remarkable young man who doesn’t see color.”

“When you’re blind you don’t see color, but you can tell a person’s personality. I can see people.”

“JB?”

“Darius, you finally speak?”

“Tell him about the time we were at the movies in Athens.”

“Yeah… I was with Darius, Mark and some other friends, going to our seats to watch a movie. Darius told me that, while we were walking together, these white people about five rows down kept staring at us.”

“Yeah, I said people are looking at us hard because you’re sitting with us.”

“Darius, let’s just repeat the conversation for Andy, not go through all this ‘he said, she said,’ etc.”

“Okay, here we go.”

“Darius!” JB yelled.

“Okay, here we go, ‘White people are staring at us.’”

“Why?”

“You’re white and not supposed to be with us.”

“Says who?”

“Then they yelled back, ‘What you doing with them Negroes, boy?’”

“I’m blind. White, black, blue, purple, red are all the same to me. Everybody is the same.”

Everybody roared.

“Yeah, those guys got up and left,” Darius said.

Andy fell back against the bleacher and laughed out loud. Darius and Mark joined in and JB couldn’t help but join in with the others.

“JB… I can’t help but help you. I will do some investigating from the office and give you a call later in the week.”

“Thank you Mr. Pil—I mean Andy.”

Andy watched as the three got up, with Darius helping JB as he walked down the steps. Mark was still laughing.

“Mark… it’s over… shut up.” JB said.

“Who you talking to?”

“The only Mark close to me.”

“If you weren’t blind, I’d smack you.”

“Don’t forget I can hear good and I will block your blow and put you in a wrestling hold and choke the breath out of your dumb ass.”

“Keep talking.”

“Mark, shut up,” Darius said. “You can’t even beat your little sister.”

Andy watched and saw the three Blair High students leave the stadium area, walking up the street. He walked down the bleachers and jogged to his car. He got into his Pinto and drove toward Highway 78. He turned left toward Atlanta and the forty-plus miles to his Midtown apartment.