The Twenty Dollar Bill

(The name of the person who is narrating the scene serves as the chapter title in The Twenty Dollar Bill)

David

I get up early. Mom’s on the couch. I guess I have to feed Whitney again. Don’t know where Jay is. I hardly ever see him anymore. It’s not like it used to be, when he would take me to the park and shoot hoops. Now he’s always running around with his friends. People he doesn’t even want me to meet. I’m not stupid. I know what’s going on with him and his so-called friends. I’m twelve, not six.

I look in the fridge. Nothing but old ketchup and moldy cheese. I should have known when I saw Mom on the couch, the empty bottle lying on its side on the coffee table, that she hadn’t bought any groceries. My stomach rumbled at the thought of another day at school without lunch.

I have to find something for Whitney to eat. I open up the corner cupboard, search behind the half-melted plastic bowls and find the oatmeal. I look on the back of the box. Supposed to add milk. I pour some into a pot and add water instead. I pour an extra cup of oatmeal in to make up for the missing milk, hoping that will make it nutritious enough for Whitney. Don’t have anything else to make, I guess it will have to do.

Once I feed Whitney I can walk her over to Alice’s. Don’t want to leave her with Mom. Have to leave by six so I can make it to school on time. Today’s my favorite day, we get to go downtown to the main library. I remember the permission slip and the lunch money for eating out stashed in my backpack. I think about Mom and the bottle. I leave the pot simmering and rush to the door where my backpack leans against the wall.

It’s gone. She took my money, the money Jay gave me so I could go to the library and eat at McDonald’s with the rest of my class. I want to yell, to run over to the couch and wake her up and ask her why she hates me, why she has to ruin everything for me. I crumple up the permission slip, holding onto it tightly in a curled up ball in my fist, until my fingernails bite into my skin and draw blood.

I open my fist and smooth the paper, place it back into my backpack. Doesn’t matter. I’ll just get my books and find a corner to read, the heck with McDonald’s.

I go back to the kitchen and stir the oatmeal. It doesn’t look right, it is too lumpy and I wonder how I will get Whitney to eat it. I hear the deadbolt slide in the door and Jay comes in. He looks tired, like he’s been walking all night.

Jay figures out what Mom did. He also tells me what’s wrong with the oatmeal, gives me twenty bucks so I can go to McDonald’s and then says he will take care of Whitney this morning. I love Jay, I do. And times like this, I can tell he still loves me, too.

I grab my backpack and put the money in with the permission slip, then take off for school. I’m happy, thinking about McDonald’s and finding books at the library and shooting hoops with Jay. Not thinking about Mom. Nope, today is a good day, and those thoughts don’t fit it.

I get to school early, since I didn’t have to take Whitney to Alice’s. I see Jefferson, my best friend, hanging out in the school yard. I tell him about Jay giving me money, tell him I have enough so he can eat there too. Jefferson’s mom doesn’t give him money either, but he usually has bologna sandwiches. But who wants to eat bologna sandwiches when the rest of your class is eating at McDonald’s?

We start talking about Big Macs and Super Size French fries and all the free refills of Coke we can drink. We talk too loudly, I guess, because Tyrone Banks comes over and next thing I know two of his gang are holding me while he goes through my backpack. He laughs and holds up the twenty dollar bill.

“Don’t you know who his big brother is?” Jefferson shouts at them. “He’s Jay-23. He runs with Gee. You guys better give that back if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone freezes. The two boys holding me let go, their arms falling to their sides and they step back from me. Tyrone looks at Jefferson, looks back at me. He sees the rest of the kids watching us. He holds the bill, looking like he wants to drop it and run but knowing what that would look like if he did.

“Jay-23 is your brother?”

I look at him, meet his stare. My brother, the drug dealer. The gang member. From what I’ve heard, the murderer. My brother? My Jay, who played hoops with me and makes sure Whitney gets to Alice’s safely and gives me money for lunch so I can eat at McDonald’s with everyone else? Jay is my brother, not Jay-23.

I know I could admit it and he would believe me, would give me the twenty back and leave Jefferson and me alone for the rest of the school year. I could tell him that, but it would take more from me than twenty bucks to believe Jay-23 is my real brother.

“No,” I tell him. “I don’t know any Jay-23.”

Tyrone pushes Jefferson hard, knocking him to the ground. He flaps the twenty in the air, then shoves it into his pocket. “Nice try, punk.” He and his gang walk off.

Jefferson looks up at me. I reach to help him up but he avoids my hand, pushes himself up off the ground. “Why’d you lie, David? Why’d you let him take the money? All you had to do was tell him yes, to let him know who your brother was.”

Jefferson’s my best friend. I want to explain it to him, but I can’t. To him, I have just thrown away the most street cred anyone in the sixth grade could have. I had given away safety, respect, protection – I had thrown away McDonald’s.