Before the Ever After
Jacqueline Woodson
Part 1
1999
Memory like a Movie
The memory goes like this:
Ollie’s got the ball and he’s running across my yard when Dad comes out of nowhere,
soft tackles him to the ground.
Then everyone is cheering and laughing because we didn’t even know my dad was home.
I thought you had a game, I say, grabbing him.
It’s a half hug, half tackle, but
the other guys—Darry and Daniel—hop on too and Ollie’s escaped, so he jumps
on top of all of us jumping on my dad.
Yeah, Mr. J., Darry says. I thought we’d be watching you on TV tonight.
Coach giving me a break, my daddy says. He climbs out from under, shaking us off like we’re feathers, not boys.
Ah man! Darry says.
Yeah, we all say. Ah man!
Sometimes a player needs to rest, Daddy says.
He looks at each of us for a long time.
A strange look. Like he’s just now seeing us.
Then he tosses the ball so far, we can’t even see it anymore.
And my boys say Ah man, you threw it too far!
while I go back behind the garage where we have a whole bunch of footballs
waiting and ready
for when my daddy sends one into the abyss.
Everybody’s Looking for a Hero
Once, when I was a little kid,
this newscaster guy asked me if
my dad was my biggest hero.
No, I said. My dad’s just my dad.
There was a crowd of newscasters circling around me, all of them with their microphones aimed at my face. Maybe I was nervous, I don’t remember now.
Maybe it was after his first Super Bowl win, his ring new and shining on his finger. Me just a little kid, so the ring was this whole glittering world, gold and black and diamonds against my daddy’s brown hand.
I remember hearing the reporter say Listen to those fans! Looks like everybody’s found their next great hero.
And now I’m thinking back to those times when the cold wind whipped around me and Mom as we sat wrapped in blankets, yelling Dad’s name, so close to the game, we could see the angry spit spraying from the other team’s coach’s lips.
So close, we could see the sweat on my daddy’s neck.
And all the people around us cheering, all the people going around calling out his number, calling out his name.
Zachariah 44! Zachariah 44!
Is your daddy your hero? the newscaster had asked me.
And all these years later, just like that day, I know he’s not my hero,
he’s my dad, which means
he’s my every single thing.
Day after the Game
Day after the game
and Daddy gets out of bed slow.
His whole body, he says,
is 223 pounds of pain
from toes to knees, from knees to ribs,
every single hit he took yesterday
remembered in the morning.
Before the Ever After
Before the ever after, there was Daddy driving to Village Ice Cream
on a Saturday night in July before preseason training.
Before the ever after, there was Mom in the back seat letting me ride up front, me and Daddy having Man Time together
waving to everyone
who pointed at our car and said That’s him!
Before the ever after, the way people said That’s him! sounded like a cheer.
Before the ever after, the people pointing were always smiling.
Before the ever after, Daddy’s hands didn’t always tremble and his voice didn’t shake
and his head didn’t hurt all the time.
Before the ever after, there were picnics on Sunday afternoons in Central Park driving through the tunnel to get to the city me and Daddy making up songs.
Before the ever after, there were sandwiches on the grass near Strawberry Fields chicken salad and barbecue beef and ham with apples and Brie
there were dark chocolates with almonds and milk chocolates with coconut
and fruit and us just laughing and laughing.
Before the ever after, there was the three of us and we lived happily
before the ever after.
Daniel
In second grade, Daniel walked over to me, Ollie and Darry, said You guys want to race from here to the tree?
When he lost, he laughed and didn’t even care, just high-fived Darry, who always wins every race every time and said
You got feet like wings, bruh.
Then he got on his bike and we knew he wasn’t regular. He was fearless.
Even back then, he could already do things on a bike that a bike wasn’t made for doing— popping wheelies and spinning and standing up on the seat while holding on to the handlebars and speeding down the steepest hills in town.
Me, Darry and Ollie used to call ourselves Tripod cuz the three us came together like that.
But when we met Daniel, we became the Fantastic Four.
And even after he broke his arm when he jumped a skate park ramp right into a wall, he didn’t stop riding.
He said My cast is like a second helmet, held it high in the air