Swing Read online

  him.

  Nope, Mom counters, but where is my vintage brass Asian

  elephant?

  Dad follows with, And where is your grandmother?

  Consequence

  I don’t snitch on Granny, but I’m so troubled, I don’t

  deny that Mom’s coveted elephant from Thailand

  is missing its tusks, and that I hid the elephant away

  because Moses knocked it over . . . that I had a party . . .

  that Junior Wilson jumped from our balcony and fell

  hard, but that he and his pinky toe will survive . . . I

  tell them how the party was all to impress Sam . . .

  That I confessed my love to her, for her . . . I tell them

  how she loved me back . . . and now she doesn’t . . . I

  tell them how prom is never going to be in the cards

  for me . . . How Walt is going . . . How Walt made the

  baseball team . . . How life sucks . . . and they end up

  not punishing me . . . because I guess my parents have

  decided my life is punishment enough.

  Kind of Blue

  I heard the news today

  that my life is over.

  Destroyed

  in one afternoon.

  I watch the record

  spin round and round

  to the sound

  of my love drowning.

  You don’t matter

  to her anymore.

  Freddie Freeloader

  is who she really wants,

  and you were just

  a rebound.

  The sax, trumpet,

  piano, and drums

  taunt me,

  haunt me,

  scream at me.

  Keep listening,

  they holler.

  We know you.

  These songs were

  composed from

  my pain.

  Blue in Green—

  everything will

  turn to frozen blue.

  The bass says,

  You’re a fool,

  as it keeps the rhythm

  of my tears.

  Flamenco Sketches

  of her in my mind.

  I heard the news today.

  She’s over.

  We’re over,

  and it’s All Blues.

  All Blues

  for the rest

  of my sorry days.

  Part 6

  Three O’clock in The Morning

  Text from Walt

  1:32 pm

  You coming to the game?

  I’m feeling lucky, like

  it’s gonna be epic.

  Two Strikes

  Walt swings

  at two fastballs

  like he’s swatting

  flies at a picnic,

  wondering

  if he connected,

  the crashing pop

  of ball

  in leather

  telling us all

  he didn’t.

  Walt at Bat

  The outlook is dismal for Walt Disney Jones today:

  two strikes and three balls, I doubt he makes the play.

  Divya clings to hope: If only he could get a whack at

  that—

  It’s do or die for my Swing at bat.

  All eyes on Walt as he digs his hands in dirt;

  two tongues holler when he wipes them on his shirt;

  and now the pitcher launches a nightmare

  and Baby “Swing” Bonds misses everything but air.

  “Strike one!” the umpire roars.

  With a sneer, Walt assures he’s got something in store.

  The second Mercury moon comes spinning through;

  he swings . . . and the umpire yells, “Strike two!”

  The smile is gone from Walt’s lip;

  upon his cocky shoulder, a chip.

  And now the pitcher winds for the throw;

  and now the air is crushed by my best friend’s blow.

  Oh, somewhere jazz is playing, and love is in full flight.

  And in this tiny town, a flag is flying bright.

  And somewhere men are fighting, living in combat.

  But there is joy today at Westside—because Walt’s at bat.

  Unfortunately

  When the next pitch

  comes,

  Walt smacks it

  into the outfield!

  Me and Divya—with

  her new, matching

  HUG LIFE tattoo—

  jump up as if

  it’s a miracle.

  She starts

  snapping pics

  like a proud parent.

  Swing jumps

  for joy,

  kicking dirt,

  running

  for first base,

  and that’s when

  I realize,

  and I’m sure he does too,

  that he should have been

  practicing

  running

  as much as batting,

  because as fast

  as he swung

  and hit that ball,

  he gets thrown out.

  Independence Day

  Yo, I got a hit. Did you see it? I killed it. I go up to bat. I

  miss the first pitch, the second, then BAM.

  I know, Swing. I was there. Remember?

  I don’t even care that I didn’t get on base. I hit.

  Indeed, you did.

  It’s happening, Noah. Right now.

  What?

  I’ve hit my stride.

  Oh, really? How’s that?

  I’ve discovered the secret to success.

  Yeah, what’s that?

  Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must

  have perseverance and be arrogant in our self-love. We

  must believe that we are gifted for something and that this

  thing must be attained.

  That’s actually deep, Swing.

  It was deep when Marie Curie said it too, Divya says,

  kissing him on the cheek.

  First woman to win a Nobel Prize, first person to win

  twice, he says, turning his cheek and catching her on the

  lips.

  For inventing radiation, right?

  For developing the theory of radioactivity that allowed

  us to actually understand how radiation works.

  Unfortunately, she got exposed to too much radiation, and

  BAM. July 4, 1934.

  At least she died doing what she loved, Divya says, and

  they both laugh and link arms, like they were meant to

  be, like nothing else matters, like they own the world.

  Hey, was Sam here?

  Didn’t see her, Divya says. Did you, Noah?

  No, I say nonchalantly, trying to act like I didn’t notice,

  when I most definitely did.

  Texts with Walt

  5:14 pm

  Yo, since you’re not going

  to prom, and I am,

  can I borrow your car?

  5:14 pm

  Uh, no.

  5:18 pm

  I’ll knock that interest off

  your IOU.

  Future Plans

  On the way

  to get Granny

  detailed,

  ’cause he says

  my car is appallingly

  filthy,

  he casually mentions

  that he might graduate early,

  this summer,

  then travel

  around the world

  before heading to

  his dream school,

  Grinnell College—

  Because they had a black graduate

  in eighteen freakin’ seventy-nine.

  That’s where I need to be. Right

  in the middle of an institution

  that reeks of social justice

  and progress
.

  You feel me, Noah?

  Yeah, I feel you.

  Also, because Herbie Hancock went there.

  I’m assuming he’s still alive.

  At the Stoplight

  Hey, isn’t that—

  It is. Don’t look.

  Just drive then.

  I can’t—the light’s red, dude.

  She’s rolling down her window. She’s— Hey,

  guys!

  Ignore her. Act like we don’t hear her.

  My window’s down, Noah.

  GUYS! Pull over.

  Oh, hey, Sam, Walt says.

  Hey, yourself. Pull over, I need to talk to Noah.

  Sure thing.

  Why’d you say okay?

  What was I supposed to say, Noah? She was literally right

  next to us.

  Conversation with Sam

  Are we okay?

  It is what it is.

  What does that mean?

  It means sure, we’re friends, okay?

  Then why’ve you been ignoring me?

  Not ignoring, just busy.

  All day and night.

  Homework. Parents are back. Everything’s not about you,

  you know.

  You’re still mad.

  . . . .

  Talk to me.

  What do you want me to say?

  I want you to say we’re still friends. That you’re mad, but

  you’ll get over it. That we really don’t have anything in

  common. We don’t like the same music, the same food. It

  was nice and fun and a little mysterious, but you gotta

  admit, we really didn’t gel.

  . . . .

  Say something, Noah.

  So you’re gonna be with him now?

  I don’t know. No, maybe. It’s complicated. But I know what

  I’m not gonna be.

  What’s that?

  One of those girls who makes a dumb decision ’cause she

  thinks a boy won’t like her anymore and the rest of her life

  is screwed up.

  . . . .

  I’m not gonna be the girl that’s known a boy forever and

  ruins that relationship because she thought that they were

  lovers who were friends, instead of best friends who loved

  each other. I don’t wanna lose you, Noah.

  Then why’d you do that to me—why’d you lie?

  I didn’t know what to do. It was stupid. I’m sorry I hurt

  you, Noah. I’m still trying to figure out what love is.

  You should listen to jazz.

  . . . .

  So, you think we’re gonna be better being friendly

  instead of romantic?

  We were for eight years.

  What about our kisses?

  What about them?

  Were they okay?

  They were more than okay. I liked kissing you.

  Well, you could use a little work keeping your teeth to

  yourself, I say, with a smirk.

  Oh, you got jokes, do you? she says, plucking me.

  . . . .

  I’m sorry, Noah.

  You didn’t have to throw it in my face, Sam.

  I didn’t mean to. Cruz just showed up. We talked a few

  times and he wanted to get back with me, but I wasn’t

  ready. He just came over with some flowers, like that was

  gonna work.

  Did it?

  I don’t know. I mean no.

  Well, I just want you to be happy, for real.

  That’s why I love you.

  A lot of good that does me now.

  . . . .

  I’m just kidding. We’re good.

  You sure?

  Yep, just don’t tell Walt that you broke up with me. Tell

  him it was mutual. I gotta protect my street cred.

  Your street cred? That’s funny.

  We gotta finish cleaning the car. Walt’s taking it to prom.

  You going?

  Yeah.

  With Cruz.

  Not with him, but yeah.

  That sounds real suspect.

  . . . .

  Well, goodbye, Sam.

  Don’t say it like that—it sounds so final.

  Have fun tonight.

  It’s definitely over

  I tell Walt, but we’re cool.

  You sure, yo?

  Wasn’t meant to be, but it hurts a little. A lot more than a

  little, actually.

  Sorry, dude. I guess she wasn’t your soulmate after all.

  At least you found yours.

  True, and I need to get home so I can practice.

  Practice?

  Cooking.

  Huh?

  I’m cooking her dinner for prom.

  No way.

  Tandoori chicken, this chickpea dish I saw on Top Chef,

  and samosas.

  You know how to make all that stuff?

  I want to be a full human. I love new ideas. And new

  people. I want her to know I respect and honor her culture.

  Real diversity begins at the dinner table. Our humanity,

  Noah, will rise with our breaking of daily bread. You

  must—

  Okay, okay, I get it.

  It’s about to go down, Noah.

  Just don’t mush up all your food in front of her, yo.

  My uncle’s band is gonna serenade her.

  Uncle Stanley Stanley is back in effect.

  I got a playlist and everything. Watch out, world, Swing is

  coming through like gangbusters.

  All the Things You Are, Divya: A Playlist by Swing

  Come Rain or Come Shine

  You Go to My Head

  All of You

  You and the Night and the Music

  The Way You Look Tonight

  I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance

  There is No Greater Love

  It Had to Be You

  You’re My Thrill

  Someday Sweetheart

  Over the Rainbow

  East of the Sun and West of the Moon

  Let’s Fall in Love

  Just You, Just Me

  Bumpin’ on Sunset

  A Love Supreme

  Slowly Coming Alive

  For the next

  few days

  I catch up

  with Mom,

  do extra credit

  for physics class,

  practice writing essays

  for the SATs,

  even make it to

  the batting cage,

  just to hit

  some frustration

  into the air.

  But the best

  part of my week

  is taking

  the fifty dollars

  Mom gave me

  to the thrift store,

  to buy a couple

  Coltrane albums,

  ephemera of all kinds,

  and an art kit

  that’s never

  been opened.

  What Being Alone Looks Like

  There are hundreds

  if not thousands

  of photos

  and videos

  being plastered

  online.

  Everybody’s got a date.

  There’s Walt and Divya

  shutting down

  the dance floor.

  Cruz and Sam

  laughing

  like everything’s

  back to normal.

  Everyone’s either

  smiling or smirking,

  twirling or twerking,

  posing or posturing,

  kissing or wanting.

  And I’m here

  playing solitaire.

  Best Thing I Never Had

  I stop

  torturing myself,

  get offline,

  and fall asleep

  listening<
br />
  to Beyoncé

  ’cause even though

  it is what it is,

  I still miss

  what isn’t.

  Why is my alarm

  going off

  at three o’clock

  in the morning?

  Because it’s not—

  it’s my phone

  buzzing.

  Who’s calling me

  this late?

  Stranded

  Hello?

  Yo, wake up.

  Who is this?

  It’s me, Swing.

  Who?

  It’s me, Walt.

  Walt, what are you doing?

  Your car stopped.

  What do you mean, it stopped?

  Dude, it won’t move. It won’t start.

  Did you put gas in it?

  Of course I put gas in it. Can you come get me? It’s cold

  and dark out here.

  Where are you?

  Alaska, maybe, I don’t know. I dropped Divya off. She lives

  way out.

  . . . .

  You there, Noah?

  Yeah, I’m here.

  I’ll drop you the pin on Google Maps.

  Walt, you have my car. How am I supposed to get there?

  Take your parents’ car. They won’t mind, it’s an emergency.

  Help a brother out.

  . . . .