Chapter SIX
DONOVAN THE PROTECTOR
Brianna sent Donovan two text messages during his lunch with Kyra. He read them when he stopped at a light down the street from Aunt Ruth’s house.
Hey, baby. Just wanted to know how things were going. Are you still with her? Where’d you take her? What are y’all doing?
In the second one, sent an hour later, Donovan knew his woman was losing her resolve.
Hey, baby. How long is your lunch going to be? I don’t want to call you. I’m trying real hard. If you don’t call me soon, I’m going to call you. Call me as soon as you can!!
Donovan almost didn’t call her back. Why’d she have to go overboard with the exclamation points? He had a lot on his mind. He didn’t want to explain things to Brianna until he knew what was going on. He had to remind himself that although his girlfriend was insanely jealous, this was a unique situation. This time Brianna’s concern was understandable. Donovan dialed her number, and she answered right away.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she said. “Is your date over? You on your way home?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Whatever. Is it over?”
“Yes.”
“I have a lot I want to say about this. Are you on your way home?”
Donovan cringed. “Yes.”
“Can I meet you there, so we can talk?”
“Alright.”
“Where’d you take her?” Brianna asked. “What did y’all talk about? What have you been doing all this time?”
And so the inquisition begins. Donovan sighed. “I thought you were coming to my house so we can talk in person?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there.”
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Brianna’s new Jetta was parked in his driveway when Donovan got there. He pulled in beside it and locked eyes with Brianna. She was already trying to read his expression. Donovan offered her a smile as he got out of his truck. He went around to open Brianna’s door for her, but she hopped out of her ride just as quickly. She met him halfway.
She stood with her arms by her sides, her eyes darting slightly as she searched her man’s eyes for the truth his mouth might not give her. She checked his lips and collar for foreign makeup. Donovan’s expression was unreadable.
Brianna wore black leggings with a small tee shirt. Her slender limbs were long and sexy. Her hair was flawless. But she was so unsure of herself, her attractiveness sank from a 10 to a 7½.
“So, how’d it go?” she asked.
Donovan shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“What’s wrong?” Brianna asked. “You look upset. What’d she do?”
Donovan didn’t think he was, but now that she mentioned it, he did feel a little gloomy.
“Just thinking about some stuff.”
“About her?” Brianna’s chest hitched.
Donovan already felt bad for Kyra. Now he had to offer more empathy to his girlfriend. “What are you so nervous about?”
“I’ve been going crazy,” Brianna admitted. “I didn’t know what was happening, on your little date. I imagined the worst things.”
“Jeez, Brianna. This is why…” He caught himself.
“This is why what?” she demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened with her or not?”
“Yes. Could we go inside, please?”
“Yeah,” Brianna said. “I’m getting hot. I can tell you right now, I don’t like this, Donovan. I don’t like anything about it.”
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
When they got inside, Donovan gave his woman a long, comforting hug and they sat together on the sofa. He told her about his lunch with Kyra, from the moment he picked her up to the worry he felt when he dropped her off.
Brianna wanted more details, like what went through his mind when he saw Kyra and how he felt when they hugged. Donovan was as open as possible, but he drew the line at letting Brianna play psychiatrist.
When he was done talking, she asked the same question Kyra asked when Donovan dropped her off.
“Why do you feel like you have to do something to help her?”
“I don’t know,” Donovan said. “I just do.”
He kicked off his church shoes and pushed them to the side of the coffee table. His tie and button-down were already draped over the arm of his recliner.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Brianna said. “I understand a friend wanting to help a friend, but you haven’t heard from her in fifteen years. Why are y’all still so close?”
“I know,” Donovan said. “No one does. You would have to understand what it was like when we were kids. What she and I went through together.”
“Then tell me.”
This is senseless, Donovan thought. There was nothing he could say that would make Brianna feel better about him spending time with Kyra or any other woman. But he didn’t mind reliving some of the memories. Maybe if he talked about it out loud, he could help himself understand why he needed to be Kyra’s guardian. Why him? Did God really assign Donovan this role, or did he take it upon himself, way back in the day when he was too young to know any better?
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
He told Brianna about meeting Kyra in grade school. She was quiet and small for her age. Kyra didn’t have nice clothes. Sometimes she came to school with her hair half done, like she styled it herself without an adult around to give her a once-over before she left the house. Kyra had a brother named Duke who was two years older. Her sister Jessica was a year older than Duke. Every now and then Kyra was fortunate enough to attend the same school as one of her siblings, but for the most part she was on her own.
Donovan and Kyra weren’t in the same grade, either. They only saw each other at lunchtime and occasionally before or after school. The first time they spoke was during recess when Kyra was in the 3 grade. Donovan noticed her walking alone near the gym while most of her peers were involved in games with at least one other person.
Donovan approached Kyra and asked if she wanted to play with his yo-yo. The smile that lit up her face changed Donovan’s heart in ways he still didn’t comprehend. He would never forget how awkward and vulnerable Kyra was. For the next twenty minutes Donovan’s only intention was to keep a smile on the quiet girl’s face. The following day he sought her out again with the same goal in mind.
The first time Donovan walked Kyra home from school, it was because a clique of bad girls tried to attack her. Kyra allegedly stole a dollar from one of them. Donovan was more sympathetic than upset when they arrived at Kyra’s home and she admitted to stealing from her classmate’s purse. Donovan gave her all of the money he had in his pocket (a buck fifty), and told her to ask him the next time she needed money. She never did, but Kyra would take a bag of chips or the desert from his lunch whenever Donovan offered.
What Donovan found most endearing about Kyra was the beauty and joy she possessed on the inside despite the obstacles in her daily life. Kyra’s mother, Deidra, smoked crack cocaine. Kyra never met her father. Kyra’s brother Duke was a budding criminal, spending the bulk of his adolescence in juvenile detention centers and alternative schools.
Kyra’s big sister, Jessica, had seen way too much. She was hardened and bitter about life. Jessica barely reacted to the hell their mom put them through. The only comfort she offered Kyra was the certainty that after awhile she’d get used to it.
With Donovan, Kyra found one person who never criticized her about her hand-me-down clothing or her dopefiend mom. Donovan was there for her when Kyra wanted to talk about the most dreadful situations, like when the dope boys came to her house and threatened to kill her mom over an unpaid debt. And Donovan had the regular life Kyra dreamed about every night. Donovan’s father still lived with him, and his parents were married. There was food in the refrigerator at Donovan’s house, and he even had cable television.
But the thing that made Kyra love Donovan so much was that he genuinely cared for her, though he had absolutely no reason to do so. Donovan never judged her. He rarely had solutions to her problems, but his encouragement lifted young Kyra’s spirits.
“It won’t be like this forever,” he would tell her. “When you grow up, you’ll have a normal family. Until then, you can come visit me whenever you want to. I’ll help you anytime I can.”
He was only a child himself, but Donovan was serious about being there for Kyra. The first time he helped her out of a jam was when she was in the 7 grade. Donovan was in the 8. Kyra’s mother’s addiction was going strong, and she came up with a boneheaded idea to move a drug dealer into her home. In exchange for living there and selling dope out of the house, the dealer paid Deidra rent, which was never cash; always drugs.
The dealer was known as FourFive. He was 35 years old with long hair he kept in cornrows most of the time. He set up shop in Duke’s room because Kyra’s brother was locked up or running the streets most nights. FourFive was respectful of Kyra and her sister, but they feared for their safety the entire time he was there. FourFive had beef with several dealers in the city. There were more goons who wanted to take FourFive’s life because he supposedly killed one of their relatives. FourFive didn’t fear his enemies. His signature weapon, a .45 semi-automatic, was never out of reach.
Despite the obvious dangers, the main problem FourFive brought to Kyra’s home was traffic. FourFive’s new dope house was open twenty-four hours a day. Junkies knocked on the front door when the sun was up and went around back when it got dark outside. FourFive had two good friends who were always there. They played loud music and smoked weed into the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes they brought female crackheads inside for sex if the women couldn’t afford their high.
After a month, FourFive was comfortable and established in his new spot. Unfortunately his new spot was Kyra’s home, and she barely slept at night. Donovan listened to her complaints day after day. He walked Kyra home so he could see FourFive himself. Donovan knew the drug dealer was dangerous, and he was too young to tackle the problem on his own.
Without telling anyone, Donovan began making anonymous phone calls to the police regarding the drug activity on Bishop Drive. On his sixth call, Donovan was told that he had to give them his name and address if he wanted to file a formal complaint. Donovan was only 13 years old. He knew his information would be filed in a police report. He also knew that snitching was a capital offense on the streets of Overbrook Meadows.
But Donovan cared enough about Kyra to take the risk. Two days later a SWAT team invaded Kyra’s residence while she was at school. When Donovan walked her home that day, her house was in disarray. The door had been kicked in. Every room was ransacked. Kyra’s mother sat on the porch looking lost and depressed. Kyra’s eyes lit up when she heard that FourFive was in jail, and he was never coming back.
Donovan didn’t tell her that he was the one who summoned the police until the next day. Kyra hugged him so hard Donovan had to beg her to, “Let me go. I can’t breathe!” Donovan waited three months before he told his mother about the incident. Beverly was furious. She truly disliked Kyra from that point on, but Donovan never doubted that he did the right thing.
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
The second time Donovan put himself in harm’s way on Kyra’s behalf was in 1997. He was in the 10 grade at Finley High. Kyra was a freshman, and they were as thick as thieves. Kyra was doing well in school. She was even a better math student than Donovan. Typically the best friends went to Donovan’s house after school to do their homework. Beverly wasn’t happy about that, but she was supportive because it kept Donovan safe at home.
Kyra had developed most her womanly physique by then, and she had quite a few admirers, both in and outside of school. Donovan was not among them, and he didn’t mind talking to Kyra about some of the boys she liked. She didn’t tell Donovan about the one crush that made her uncomfortable until things nearly got out of hand. This admirer was bad news from the start because Marvin was already in a relationship with Kyra’s mother. And he was 38 years old.
Sometimes, late at night, Marvin had a look in his eyes that chilled Kyra to her core. She was so frightened, she started barricading her bedroom door before she went to bed. Unfortunately she could only block her door with items she could lift or drag herself, and Marvin was much stronger than she was. He pushed her door open twice already. Kyra was awakened both times. She stared wide-eyed at the door, and she saw Marvin’s ugly face in the opening. But he didn’t walk in. Not yet anyway.
When Kyra finally told Donovan about the way her mother’s boyfriend watched her and always felt the need to use the bathroom when she was in the shower, Donovan was upset that she didn’t tell him sooner. His concern became anger when Kyra told him that she complained to her mother several times, but she wouldn’t listen. Marvin was a dopefiend, too. He provided Deidra with a mostly free source of drugs. Kyra’s mother wasn’t willing to give that up just because her youngest daughter might get raped. Hell, a lot of things might happen.
Less than a week after Kyra confided in Donovan, her troubles at home reached a boiling point. Marvin broke through Kyra’s barricade one night after he sent Deidra to score their next high. Egged on by the hard liquor he’d been consuming, Marvin stepped into Kyra’s room for the first time and tried to pull the sheets off her body. She held on to them with all her might and screamed at the top of her lungs.
Spooked, Marvin retreated and didn’t bother her anymore that night. Kyra lay in bed trembling until her mother returned. When she heard Deidra’s voice, Kyra summoned the courage to confront Marvin in her mother’s presence. But nothing happened.
Marvin said he thought Kyra barricaded the door so she could sneak out of her bedroom window. He said he lifted Kyra’s sheet to if it was really her under there, rather than a pile of clothing. He said he was startled and confused by her scream. He never did anything to harm her. He didn’t know why she didn’t like him.
Surprisingly, Deidra sided with Marvin. She threatened to kick Kyra out if she continued to lie on her boyfriend. Deidra told Kyra to stop barricading her door at night. She said she wanted to be able to check to see if Kyra really was trying to sneak out of her room. Plus Kyra’s barricade might prevent someone from saving her if there was a fire, Marvin added.
Kyra told Donovan what happened when she got to school the next morning. He was in a foul mood for the rest of the day. She had never seen his eyes so dark. The best buds usually went to Donovan’s house after school, but he insisted on visiting Kyra’s home instead. She was against it, but Donovan marched on alone when she tried to stop him. Kyra caught up and pleaded with him along the way.
Donovan was only sixteen at the time, but he’d been playing football since the fourth grade. He had the build of a college freshman. When they arrived at Kyra’s house, Donovan knocked on the door while Kyra paced anxiously in the front yard. Marvin answered. His expression was quizzical. Donovan dropped his backpack and grabbed a fistful of the man’s tee shirt. He yanked him out of the house so quickly, Marvin stumbled down the steps and face-planted on the dry lawn. Kyra screamed. Deidra rushed from the house, her eyes spooked from cocaine. She started yelling, too.
Marvin scrambled to his feet with anger quickly replacing his confusion. He went after Donovan with his fists raised. Kyra started crying. The difference between their sizes looked astronomical. Deidra demanded to know what was going on. Kyra wanted to know, too. She talked to Donovan about everything, and he never reacted like this.
“What the hell’s your problem?” Marvin barked. His tee shirt was ripped. Dead blades of grass clung to his nappy hair.
“Quit messing with Kyra!” Donovan told him. He stood defiantly with his little fists balled.
Marvin shook off the rest of his shock and sneered at him. “Boy, I’ll beat yo bitch ass!”
“Stop!” Kyra wailed. “Please, stop!”
“Come on!” Donovan said. “I ain’t scared!”
“Get that boy away from my house!” Deidra shouted.
“Come on, you pervert!” Donovan yelled. His eyes were locked on Marvin’s.
Kyra had never seen him fight before, but Donovan’s boxing stance was official. For a brief moment she thought Donovan would be able to stand his own. But Marvin had been in plenty of fights during his life as a junkie. He grinned and closed the distance between them with quick, purposeful strides.
“You gon’ do something about it, little punk?”
“Kyra, get that boy–”
WHAP!
Deidra was cut off by the sound of palm hitting cheek. Donovan didn’t see it coming. And when it connected, he couldn’t see anything past a blinding flash of red and white. Donovan stumbled backwards. The side of his face exploded with blistering pain. Kyra screamed again, and so did a couple of street people who were drawn to the fight like moths to a flame.
“You come to my goddamned house starting shit!”
PAP!
Marvin berated Donovan as he whooped him. But he wasn’t fighting him like he would a man. The second blow was another slap that connected with the side of Donovan’s head. His world spinning, Donovan dropped to one knee. He didn’t feel the blood leaking from his split lip, and he couldn’t hear any of the people shouting around him. Vaguely he caught sight of a loose brick in the lawn. He reached for it instinctively.
But Donovan’s senses were slurred. His movements were telegraphed. Marvin saw him go for the weapon, and he decided to put an end to this. He reared back with his right leg, planning to punt the runt’s face like a football, but Donovan’s brain cleared up for a fraction of a second, and he saw the sneaker coming. Donovan blocked the kick with his arms, and then he grabbed Marvin’s leg and threw all of his weight at him.
Marvin fell to his back with the teenager on top. Donovan knew he’d lose the fight if he didn’t take full advantage of his superior position. He swung blindly, as hard and as fast as he could. Marvin blocked the first eight punches, but the ninth one landed square on the chin. Donovan didn’t notice Marvin’s face grow slack, and he didn’t see the man’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Donovan did realize that all of his subsequent blows were landing flush, but he didn’t slow up.
If I stop, he’ll get me, he told himself. If I stop, he’ll get me.
The warning played over and over in his head like a mantra. Donovan’s heart was jack-hammering. Blood began to leak off his chin. He had Marvin fully mounted. The dopefiend’s limbs were stretched limply in the grass. After five more blows, Donovan felt his fists starting to bleed. A few punches later, Donovan realized it was Marvin’s face bleeding, not his hands.
By then Donovan knew the man was unconscious, but he was still too afraid to stop. The two blows Marvin delivered were the hardest Donovan had ever been hit in his life – and he knew the dopefiend wasn’t really fighting him at the time. If he let up, Donovan fully believed Marvin would kill him. So he hit him again and again. He didn’t stop swinging until one of the bystanders grabbed him from behind and pulled him off his opponent.
“Stop, man! You killing him!”
Donovan broke free of the stranger’s grip, but he didn’t go after Marvin again. Everyone could see that Kyra’s tormentor was no longer a threat to her or anyone else – not for the rest of the day at least.
Kyra rushed to Donovan’s side. He turned to retrieve his backpack while the crowd surrounded Marvin. Most gawked. A couple of people took pictures with a new gadget called a “camera phone.” One person had the sense to roll Marvin onto his side so he wouldn’t swallow his tongue while unconscious.
“Cuh, come on,” Donovan told Kyra. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His face was a mess with sweat and blood. His hands and knuckles were throbbing with pain. But Donovan didn’t acknowledge what just happened. “We gotta, we gotta go do our homework,” he panted. “Go to my mama, go to my mama’s house.”
He started walking in that direction. Kyra was stunned stiff for a second, but she broke out of it and ran to catch up with him. Her mom yelled, “Kyra, where the hell you going?!” but she didn’t slow up or even look back.
When they got to his house, Beverly nearly had a heart attack at the sight of her sweet baby. She didn’t calm down much when Donovan told her why he had to fight. That night Beverly forbade Donovan from hanging around Kyra. But of course he wouldn’t listen. He started taking Kyra to the library after school rather than bring her home. This was the first time he openly defied his mother. When Beverly found out, she was the one who conceded. She told Donovan to bring Kyra to their house after school like he’d been doing, so at least she would know where he was.
Kyra’s mother didn’t stop smoking crack after that, but they never saw Marvin again. Later, whenever Kyra tried to talk to Donovan about what happened, he downplayed his heroics. He didn’t agree that he put his life on the line for her. But he didn’t have to. Kyra saw it with her own eyes.
Donovan wasn’t sure if fate led him to Kyra on the playground of Sunrise Elementary. But he knew that she needed him in her life. If he wasn’t there for her, who would be? He couldn’t think of one person.
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
The house became completely silent when Donovan finished his story. Brianna stared at him, her heart fluttering in her chest. There were a million thoughts swirling through her head. She didn’t want to vocalize most of the things her subconscious was telling her, but it was so black and white. There was no way she could pretend not to see.
“Donovan, tell me the truth. Do you love her?” Brianna felt her heart ripping in two before he opened his mouth to respond.
“I do love her. But it’s not like you think. I’m not in love with her.”
“But, how can that be? After all you’ve been through with her.”
“If she was a boy, you wouldn’t ask that.”
“But she’s not.”
“Why can’t a boy and a girl be close without falling in love?”
“I’m not saying it can’t happen, Donovan. But I don’t think it’s possible with you two. I don’t like this, Donovan. I don’t like the idea of you hanging around other girls.”
“I’m a teacher, Brianna. I’m around mostly women everyday.”
“I know, and I don’t like that, either,” Brianna said frankly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Tell me why your mother put her out.”
Donovan’s heart froze. She knows. A chill enveloped his whole body. But Brianna was worried and unsure, not accusatory. Donovan wanted to tell her about the kiss, but he knew she wouldn’t believe it was a one time thing.
“I told you, my mom never trusted her.”
“Then why would she let her live with y’all in the first place?” Brianna wondered. “That’s a terrible thing to do to a child; take them in, and then kick them out after a few months.”
“She didn’t do it to be mean,” Donovan said. “My mama wanted it to work. She gave it her best shot. But she thought me and Kyra were going to start liking each other. It started to drive her crazy. She couldn’t do it. She thought she could, but she couldn’t.”
Brianna nodded slightly, and Donovan knew she accepted that. The lie made him feel sick to his stomach.
“Did Kyra come back to Texas for you?” Brianna asked.
Donovan’s eyes lit up. He was happy he could be completely honest with this answer. “I asked her that today, and she said no.”
“You asked her if she came back for you?”
“Yes,” Donovan stated. “I asked her that exact question.”
Brianna frowned. “Why did you ask her that? Did you want her to come back for you?”
“Now you tripping,” Donovan said with a shake of his head. “You’re on a fault finding mission.”
“What if she said yes?” Brianna asked. “What if she did come back for you?”
“She didn’t.”
“But what if she did?”
“What if the world ends in an hour?” Donovan said. “I have no idea what I would do. Why are you worried about something that didn’t happen?”
“You have no idea what you would do if Kyra said she came back for you?”
“Brianna, I’m with you. And I love you. I wouldn’t leave you for Kyra – not even if she told me she came back for me. I’m not an a*shole. Now please, stop.”
He reached for her, and Brianna allowed him to pull her into his arms. Donovan’s embrace was as warm and wonderful as it had ever been.
Despite what he told her, Brianna’s vision blurred with tears. She knew it wasn’t wrong for her to want him all to herself. The thought of losing this man was unbearable.
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