This Is My America(29)

At the bottom of the last step, I hear Quincy call out to me, “Think if I didn’t get shot, I’d be your ride-or-die and not Dean?”

I try not to think about how that moment changed our paths. I can’t say I’d be friends with Dean if Quincy hadn’t gotten shot. Not with how black and white school is. Dean filled Quincy’s absence, and I never let Quincy back in. I don’t know what to say.

He waits for an answer. I want to say something smart about all his girlfriends, but Quincy’s move literally did catch my feelings by surprise. I turn to answer.

“I’ve never forgotten how good you were to me.” I pause. “Are still. Thanks for helping me today.”

Quincy gives a shy smile. “Jamal’s gonna be okay,” he says.

My throat closes at how sure he is.

If only I was that certain.





LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

Mama fidgets as we sit in the prison visiting room. Last Saturday I was asking for forgiveness, and now, a week later, Jamal is gone. Daddy’s gonna see how we’re holding up for real. How Mama’s doing without her boy, who Daddy made promise to take care of us while he was away.

My stomach lurches. I’ll have to lie to him for the first time and pretend we’re okay.

We’re not okay.

There’s a stall in the line after we’re searched. Up ahead you can see it’s a correction officer who’s the holdup. The same hard-ass from last time who was looking at me and Daddy.

“Back in line.” He points at us.

I turn my head. I know better than to argue with him. Finally, we’re at the front.



“Tracy, Lillian, and Corinne Beaumont,” I say. “Visiting James Beaumont.”

“I didn’t ask for your names yet.”

I shut my mouth and wait for direction, even though we’re following exactly what the family in front of us did.

“Who are you visiting?”

“James Beaumont.”

He scans the visitor roster. He passes Daddy’s name, but I don’t say anything. Being a smart-ass won’t help me. He takes another minute before he speaks.

“You’ve already made a Saturday visit for the week.”

Mama’s eyebrows knit together, but she doesn’t speak.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “You must be mistaken. Can you please check again?”

“No exceptions.”

“I…Please check again. I promise you there’s a mistake.”

Mama taps at my arm to take a breath and calm down. Arguing with COs never helps, but I want to see Daddy tonight.

“No, see right here.” He points to my time log. “Next in line.”

Twenty-five minutes. He’s stopping me from visiting my father because last Saturday I checked in twenty-five minutes later, so we’re technically still in the same week. This is absurd. He knows it’s absurd. They’ve never gone by the hour here. It’s always the date. Saturday or Monday. Never the time stamp.

“No. It’s my visit day. The rules are the day, not the time. Right?” I look at the people behind me. “Right, the day?”



There are a few concerned looks, but no one is willing to back me up. Mama takes Corinne to sit without arguing. I study him: I’m not going to win.

More rumblings behind me. A little boy asks, “When did we visit last Saturday? Are we going to have to wait, too?”

I start the waiting process over and join Mama so I can follow these new rules.

Corinne grabs my hand. I hold it fiercely until she smiles. Her eyes soften.

“Tell me how he was last time,” Corinne asks, since she didn’t go with Mama on Monday after the interview incident.

“Tired,” I say.

Corinne’s neck tightens.

“But good. He was strong, said he missed you the most.”

“He did not.” Corinne rolls her eyes, then studies me for the truth.

“He did. He said you grow up the fastest.”

A smile creeps across Corinne’s face. Mama winks, then puts her arms around Corinne.

“Well, I sure don’t look a day over thirty,” Mama says.

“Thirty?” I smirk.

“Yes. I hear it every day at work.” Mama rocks in her seat, all black-don’t-crack proud.

“You think he’ll notice I’m taller?” Corinne scoots up in her seat and stretches her neck up.

“Definitely,” I say.

“Yeah, he’ll notice,” Corinne says softly.



I glance at Mama, and her eyes are misty. Like me, she knows Corinne’s been marking off her height for a long time, and for her sake I hope she never has to worry about Daddy missing her grow up much more than he has already.

“Don’t talk your daddy’s ear off about Jamal,” Mama says. “He wants to hear how you’re doing.”

I nod, but it’s a promise I won’t be able to keep.

“Lillian, Corinne, and Tracy Beaumont.” The CO finally calls us when he’s ready, waving us through to the visitation room. When I pass him, he grips my arm and leans in. “Disruptions get visitation revoked. Remember that next time you wanna show off on TV.”

I take a hushed breath as I pull my arm back. He made a lesson of me because of The Susan Touric Show.