Black Boy White School by Brian F. Walker Read Free Book Online

looked at Anthony, clearly hoping that he would laugh, too. He didn’t, though, and eventually she put a hand on his arm. “What’s the matter? Are you homesick?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAre you lonely?” She glanced at Paul and Khalik holding court, and then back at Anthony. “Those guys seem pretty fun. Have you met them yet?”
    â€œI met ’em. They’re straight.”
    â€œOh,” she said, lighting up. “Are they from the same part of the city as you?”
    Anthony looked at her, shook his head, and then frowned. Did they think that every black person in the world came from New York? “I’m from Cleveland, Ms. Atwood. I wish people around here would get that right.”
    She shifted uncomfortably, and blood rushed to her face. Anthony was glad that she was embarrassed. “That was a dumb assumption,” she said sincerely. “It’ll never happen again, Tony. I promise.”
    Anthony rolled his eyes and caught movement at the edge of the woods. Brody came out, smiling wide and weaving between the trees. Venus emerged a few seconds later and teetered over to a group of girls. Anthony sighed. Maybe he should have smoked up when he had the chance.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Ms. Atwood said, rubbing his arm again. “Making friends takes time.”
    He drew a breath but then let out the air. Telling the truth wouldn’t get her off his back. “I’m making plenty of friends, Ms. Atwood,” he said. “For real. Everything’s fine.”
    She stared at him awhile and then smiled. “You mean straight, right? Everything’s straight?”
    â€œYeah, Ms. Atwood,” Anthony said, grinning. “Straight as a gate.”
    After dinner, Khalik started telling more New York stories. Most of them were violent and filled with blazing guns. The tales sounded fake to Anthony, or at least exaggerated. He could tell that Paul smelled the bullshit, too, by the way that the other Brooklyn kid kept frowning.
    â€œI got a story,” Anthony said before he could stop himself. Everyone looked, and he suddenly felt hot.
    â€œHe talks?” one of the other kids said, and a few of them laughed. Anthony said to forget about it, but then they all urged him on.
    â€œOkay,” he said, and then swallowed. At first he was going to tell them about Mookie, but he changed his mind. He wasn’t ready to share that story yet, especially with a bunch of rich white kids.
    â€œThere was this old dude who used to live on my street,” he said. “Mr. McKinley. And he was mean as shit. He used to sit upstairs on his porch all day and yell at anybody who came near his grass. But these girls, Delores and Darnetta, lived in the downstairs half of the house, and we used to sit on their porch and play Uno.” A few people nodded at the mention of the card game. It helped Anthony relax. “So one day we were down there, playing; me, the two sisters, my friend Floyd, and this dude named T-Bone. Mr. McKinley started yelling at us, but we mostly ignored him. Old dude got quiet after a while and we kinda forgot he was up there. Then all this water came down on top of T-Bone and he started screaming. We all jumped out the way and saw Mr. McKinley standing up there with a big pot in his hands, laughing his ass off.”
    â€œOh my God,” someone said from the other side of the fire. “He poured hot water on him? Is that true?”
    Anthony nodded, feeling a twisted sense of civic pride. Brooklyn and Khalik could kiss his ass. “T-Bone went and told his big brother, Junebug,” Anthony continued. “Bug was just outta jail and already crazy. Later on that night, he broke into Mr. McKinley’s house and straight killed him. Cut him up in the bathtub . . .”
    â€œOh my God.”
    â€œBut that ain’t the scary part,” Anthony said. “This happened when I was in the third grade, and