Excerpt from "Entrepreneur" by MQW

The Prelude:

Swift

I made it to graduation, and damn was I glad to go. I had spent six years of my teenage life at this private school. My stepmother Camille was in the army, so that enabled me to go away to school. Pops didn’t care either way as long as I got a decent education. I didn’t want to go but what choice did I have. I remember like it was yesterday I was packing my bags for the three hour trip to the middle of nowhere.

“Swift get down here before we’re late,” my mom yelled up the stairs.

“I’m coming!” I lied knowing damn well I wasn’t ready yet.

“If you’re not down here in five minutes we’re leaving you here!” my mother threatened.

That would be a great idea. I thought to myself.

I didn’t want to risk a beat down so I hustled down the stairs. I knew my mother wouldn’t hesitate either. If I could avoid it, it would be a good thing.

When I got to the bottom of the steps outside I took one last look at my house and sighed. My mother popped the trunk and I threw my suitcase in. As I got comfortable in the car I was mad all over again. When I looked at my brother he had a stupid grin on his face.

So I mustered up some confidence and asked my mother, “How come Malik not coming?”

“His dad doesn’t want him to go,” my mother said in that parent tone I’ve grown accustomed to hearing.

“That’s an excuse?” I said sounding disrespectful. As soon as I said it I wish I could have taken my statement back. I swore my mother’s hand moved in slow motion. She smacked the feeling out of my face. My mother’s facial expression changed as my statement had hit a nerve. Malik’s father Raheem was a worthless steaming pile of dog shit. All he did was send cards with no money and show up once in a blue moon. He was full of broken promises.

He still tried to make decisions for his son. After all he was his biological father. Pops locked the house up then opened the car door and got in. He sensed something happened right away.

“Camille what’s going on?” Pops asked with concern in his voice.

“Nothing honey,” my mom said not even giving him eye contact.

“Aight,” he said skeptically. Then he saw my brown skin face red and almost snapped. He knew what the deal was. Every time Raheem’s name got brought up all hell breaks loose. He decided to drop the matter for now. He fully intended to sit down with Camille and discuss it. I could tell by the way he looked over at her.

My mother put the key in the ignition, started the car, and put her Slick Rick CD in the disc player. The rest of the trip I looked out the window. I was trying to be positive about my situation. I was thinking about the girls and what they would look like. I used to love when my mom had her book club meetings. I would sneak a peek at my mother’s best friend Ms. Peaches. She had to have the biggest breasts ever without being sloppy. I had to admit that the basketball thing did interest me too. I’ve been playing basketball since I could pick one up.

While we were driving all I seen were highways and trees. I was growing impatient with each passing minute. I kept shifting positions in the backseat of my mother’s car. She kept shooting me that “Sit still” look. That was until I noticed we were closing in on my school. It was even better than seeing the glossy pamphlet pictures. They always tried to false advertise. Just like fast-food restaurants, it didn’t look anything like the picture on display.

This place was different though. As we entered the school premises I noticed the football team on the practice field. Their red and white uniforms appeared to be brand new even from a distance. The field damn near resembled the football stadiums I saw on television most Sunday afternoons. There were numerous seats all highlighted by the gigantic nightlights in back of the commentary booth. We pulled up to the tall brown brick building that housed the superintendent’s office. I was a little shook. What if I wasn’t private school material? I kept thinking over and over again. I mean I was an above average student, but who knows?

When me and my family entered the building I noticed large framed pictures on the walls. They were of former students and staff members. The carpet was dark gray and spotless. Every office in the building had silver nameplates with employee names etched into them. Even the water fountains seemed special for some reason. My mother mouthed, “come on” as I was wondering the lobby enjoying the scenery.

When we finally entered Superintendent Allen Thompson’s office I was relieved. He seemed like a cool person. He was even taller than Pops. He was an older gentleman with a gut problem far as I could see. Mr. Thompson wore glasses and was balding a little on top. His office book shelves were lined with numerous books. I spotted Native Son only because I had read it three times at the Free Library on 52nd and Market.

We all sat there as we introduced ourselves to the superintendent. He shook my hand last and proceeded to ask me questions. I told him my favorite hobbies were basketball and computers. He told me that there were plenty of basketball courts and computers to go around. Maybe it wasn’t going to be bad after all. Then Mr. Thompson asked, “Stephen, what do you think this school can offer you?” He said this as he sat on the edge of his desk with his hands in his lap. I was a little dumbfounded and caught off guard. I couldn’t think of a good lie so I just told him what I really felt.

“The opportunity to become an entrepreneur,” I stated smiling from ear to ear. My mother, Malik, and Mr. Thompson shared a laugh. I didn’t see a thing funny. I was dead serious. I learned real young I wanted my own things. I didn’t like my parents bossing me around. I wanted to be independent someday. Little did they know their remarks gave me motivation. As I was reminiscing there was a knock at my room door.

“Yo, Swift we got less than 15 minutes to get to the stage,” Kenny said out of breath from running up three flights of stairs. I grabbed my cap and gown and headed out my room door. The graduation ceremony was just like I thought it was going to be. My whole immediate family was there along with a couple of my aunts and uncles. Cars filled the area surrounding the stage. The banner on the top of the pillars behind us read, “Good Luck Class of 2002” in huge red letters. The rows of seats were filled to capacity. When it was my turn to get my diploma my family roared like I won the championship or something.

I just wished my biological mother Rita was there to see it. That brought a few tears to my eyes. She died during the pregnancy. Her and Pops were high school sweethearts. Me and my older brother Keon were the result of their marriage. It took a while for Pops to recover and eventually remarry. My little brother Jahiem came bursting into the world a short while after Pops and Camille’s honeymoon.

This place had made me a man. I had my first fistfight, my first sexual experience, and my first entrepreneurial dream started here. It was more than just a school to me.

When the idea first came up I thought it was a punishment. I soon realized it was actually beneficial in the long run. I’ll never forget my 12th grade English teacher told me to never be scared. I hated going in front of the class. Those speeches taught me how to address people. If I wanted to get into business I had to interact with people often.

I packed all my things in cardboard boxes, and said my goodbyes. A lot of these people I would never see again. Some of them I never wanted to see again anyway. I spotted my high school girlfriend, gave her a hug, and told her to keep in touch. I held her a little longer than a friend should.

I let her perfume invade my nostrils. Her soft breasts rubbing against me reminded me of old times. That was a time when I had no worries. Damn Cianni was bad, but my immature attitude messed that relationship up. If I could take those moments back I would. On the three hour drive back to Philly, I wondered how my life would turn out. It didn’t take me long at all to see though.