This Is My America(79)

A truck speeds toward my house. It’s Steve.

As Steve parks, I bite my lip. I’m light-headed and dizzy. We can bring Jamal home now.

I text Jamal.

Steve’s here.

We found the gun.

He’s going to help.



Meet us at the house.

Everything’s going to be okay.

I pray I’m right.



* * *





Fifteen minutes later, the back door creaks. Jamal’s hands are shoved in his pockets, his thin white hoodie draped over his head. I wrap my arms around him like I haven’t seen him in days.

Home feels normal again. Until he takes his hood off. His face is stormy, as Daddy used to say. All his feelings trapped in his body—wind, rain, heat, thunder—all spinning inside.

Quincy comes down the hallway and jumps on Jamal. They hug. Wide smiles, half hugs before doing their handshake routine.

“Man. It’s good to see you,” Quincy says.

Jamal gives his first wide smile. “Thought I’d be dead, huh?”

Jamal’s joke falls flat with Steve, who chuckles uncomfortably. Jamal sizes Steve up. In many ways, Jamal and I are the same. He’s better at hiding it with a big grin, while at the same time he’s judging your weakness.

“This is Steve.” I fumble around, letting go of Jamal when the creases around his eyes settle. “From Innocence X.”

“Pleasure, man,” Steve says as he gets up to greet him. “You don’t know what it means to finally meet you in person.”

I don’t move until Jamal takes a seat in our family room. The boarded-up window still not replaced. His shoulders slump back and dig into the couch. I’m filled with hope, lightness inside, watching Steve and Jamal meet for the first time. The knots riding up my throat relax, and I can breathe normally.



Steve looks at me, asking for my permission to begin. I nod, taking a seat next to Quincy, who keeps his hand softly around my side. Jamal’s face looks suspect about this situation here, too.

I share with Jamal and Steve everything Quincy and I learned. That when we left the Pike, the police were searching for the gun. I just hope Chris and Justin were caught out there, too. Just like I was.

“Gun or not, I got you, Jamal,” Steve says.

“I got you, too, man.” Quincy gives Jamal a dap. “Forever.”

“I’m gonna ask you a few questions,” Steve says.

“I can’t go public,” Jamal says. “This might just be a case to you, but it’s my life. If I go in, I can’t trust I’m coming here of this alive. I don’t know what that gun means yet.”

“I’ve been in touch with my dad. He’s flying here tonight. We’re taking your case on, along with your dad’s.”

My heart swells. Steve hadn’t shared that with me yet. Quincy squeezes my hand.

“Thank you.” Jamal presses his palms to his heart. “That’s good for my dad.”

“It’s good for you, too,” I say.

Jamal shakes his head. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen when the cops find that gun. I can’t risk my life. My freedom. They could plant evidence, even if I’ve never seen that gun in my life.”

“I will do everything I can to protect your family,” Steve says. “Jamal, you think you can keep running for the rest of your life? Hide out forever?”



Jamal looks at me because he’s willing to take that chance.

“Tell me what happened at the Pike,” Steve says.

I’m expecting Jamal to jump up, resist. But he doesn’t. He’s been waiting to tell his story.

Jamal repeats what he’s already told me. Except now he definitely thinks Chris killed Angela. I’m not so sure. Steve takes notes feverishly, hanging at the edge of his seat, listening to Jamal, and asking more questions.

Steve glances at me as I fidget. He takes a long pause and gestures at me to share my suspicions.

“But you don’t think the boyfriend killed her, Tracy?” Steve asks.

“Ex.” Jamal’s jaws clench a bit, and his voice goes tight. His eyes dull. I know that memory from the Pike must be flashing through his head. The night he lost Angela.

“Chris said he suspected Scott, but that doesn’t mean he knows. Chris’s uncle is still sketchy.” I play the audio I recorded. It’s hard to hear, so I turn it all the way up. We huddle around my phone.

Steve rubs his hands over his freshly cut fade. “I wonder if Chris shared that in his police report.”

“When I confronted Chris at the cemetery, his thoughts were scattered, but he didn’t claim he saw Jamal kill Angela—he just blamed Jamal. With the gun, Mandy’s story, Chris blaming Scott, Jamal could get his story out there and convince people it’s the truth.”



“I’m not going in until I’m confident I can prove I’m innocent.” Jamal’s about ready to jump out of his seat right now and run back to the shack.

The front door slams open. Mama hollers for me by the entrance as she steps into the house with Corinne. I look at the clock above the mantel. Nine. Mama’s back from visiting Daddy and gone to Monday choir practice already? Steve’s biting the inside of his cheek when Mama zeroes in on Jamal on the couch. She rushes Jamal like she’s trying to tackle him.