The Night Gardener

RAMONE CALLED REGINA FROM the parking lot. Diego had come home briefly, picked up his basketball, and gone out the door. He wasn’t angry, Regina said. Just quiet.

 

Ramone drove over the District line down to 3rd and Van Buren. He parked, left his suit jacket in the car, loosened his tie, and walked up to the fenced court. Diego was shooting buckets, wearing shorts too big for him, a wife beater, and his Exclusives. He spun in a reverse layup, gathered up the ball, and tucked it under his arm. Ramone stood three feet away from him and spread his feet.

 

“I know, Dad. I messed up.”

 

“I’m not gonna lecture you. You made a choice and you did what you thought was right.”

 

“How long am I out for?”

 

“You’re not going back there ever,” said Ramone. “They found out we used the Silver Spring address to get you in.”

 

“So where am I gonna go?”

 

“I’ve got to talk with your mother. I expect we’ll put you back in your old school for the rest of the year. Then we’ll figure something out.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

Diego looked out across 3rd. “Everything, this week…”

 

“Come here.”

 

Diego dropped the ball and went into his father’s arms. Ramone held him tightly. He smelled Diego’s perspiration, the Axe he sprayed on his body, that cheap shampoo he used. He felt the muscles of his shoulders and back, and the heat of his tears.

 

Diego stepped out of Ramone’s embrace. He wiped at his eyes and picked up the ball.

 

“Want to play some?” said Diego.

 

“You got me at a disadvantage. You in your eighty-dollar sneakers and me in my brogues.”

 

“You scared, huh?”

 

“To eleven,” said Ramone.

 

Diego took the ball out. It was over, really, with his first step off check. Ramone tried to beat him, but he could not. Diego was a better athlete at fourteen than Ramone had ever been.

 

“You goin’ back to work like that?” said Diego, nodding at the sweat stains on Ramone’s shirt.

 

“No one will notice. Women stopped looking at me five years ago.”

 

“Mom looks.”

 

“Occasionally.”

 

“Five dollars says I can make it from thirty feet out,” said Diego.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Diego banked it in off the glass. He flexed his arm, kissed his biceps, and smiled at Ramone.

 

That’s my son.

 

“You didn’t call backboard,” said Ramone.

 

“I’ll take that five.”

 

Ramone paid up. “I’m outta here. Got a long day today.”

 

“Love you, Dad.”

 

“Love you, too. Call Mom if you go anywhere, let her know where you are.”

 

Ramone went to the Taurus and got under the wheel. Before he turned the key, Rhonda Willis called him on his cell. They had Dominique Lyons and Darcia Johnson in the boxes down at VCB.

 

“I’ll be right there,” said Ramone.

 

 

 

 

 

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