Chapter 2.
The alarm clock intoned horrendously, waking Art out of a comfortable sleep. Lazily, Art prodded his eyes opened and without warning, saw Sanchez’s face; his phantom spoke, “Get up.”
Hurt by the thoughts of Sanchez’s murder, Art rolled over, and pulls his Hulk Hogan sheets over his head. Aggravated by the repetition of the alarm clock art kicks his feet.
“You heard what I said,” Kim, Art`s mother yells as she snatches the Hulk Hogan sheet set off of him completely.
Sighing with the all the energy Art had in him, he sits up in his bed with his eyes purposely still shut.
“That is your problem now. You don’t listen. That is why you’re ass suspended. You always talking about how it’s not you and it is those teachers. Yet I see differently those Parkside elementary teacher do not be fucking lying on you. Get your ass up!” Kim slaps Art in the head with the pillow that she snatched from his bed.
“Turn that off mom, please.” Art lays back in the bed, exposed Thundercat underwear and all.
“Hell, no. You get up and do it yourself.”
The sound of his bedroom door slamming closed, confirmed that he would have to get up and turn the alarm clock off himself. Irritated Art snatches the alarm out of the socket and tosses it across the bedroom floor.
“I do not feel like getting up.” Art says aloud to himself.
`Annoyed, Art gets out of the bed and goes to his closet to grab his towel and wash cloth. Looking down at his closet floor Art sees the shoes with Sanchez splattered blood on them. Sanchez face appears again.
“Art.”
Art kicks his stained black, grey and white Bo Jacksons to the back of the closet, with hopes that this action will push Sanchez out of his mind. In a daze, Art fixates his eyes on his red and grey Karl Kani flannel. Memories of Sanchez murder continued to flood his thoughts. Art still could not believe his hero was dead. Wickedly, tears streamed down his face.
“Art”, he heard Sanchez voice, yet again.
“Art. Yo ass still ain’t dressed yet? If you do not get dress in 15 minutes, nigga I am going to request that next time, instead of suspending you, they take your ass down to the Lakeland Juvenile Detention Center.” Art’s mother, replaces Sanchez’s echo with her high pitched nagging.
Art snatches the red and grey flannel off the hanger. “Hurry up.” Kim hollers, exiting Arts room once again.
Art disliked when his mother placed demands on him. Although, Art was too young to be labeled as a man, he still knew he was going to become one and wanted his mother to treat him as such. Sluggishly, Art approaches his off-white seashell nightstand to retrieve a pair of clean underwear and his favorite khaki Karl Kani pants. As Art goes towards his bedroom door, he stubs his toe on the alarm clock that he had tossed across his bedroom previously.
“Awe Shit.” He screams in agony.
“Art.” Sanchez appears once more.
“Mom!” Art shouts, as he scarcely flees his room.
The smell of old spice clogged Art’s nostrils while he and his mother waited patiently for the principle to enter his office. With disgust Art scanned principle Edwards cluttered office.
In the right hand corner stood the red, white and blue American flag. Art’s mother was no Jehovah Witness, however she did not condone Art pledging allegiance to the flag. Kim was aware that the flag represented the United States declaring their freedom from the United Kingdoms of Great Britain, as well as Ireland; then in return, enslaving Africans and murdering the natives. Art’s mother was a Caucasian women who loved chocolate added to her milk, therefore any system that belittled minorities she always was against it.
Next to the American flag was a 4 foot tall disorganized filing cabinet and on top of it sat a globe. Facing art was Canada, North America, and South America. Something about the globe captivated Art and he than, had an instant urge to want to conquer the world.
“Hello Mrs. Moore.” Principle Edwards greeted Kim as he entered into his office.
Kim unbuttoned the top button of her pink blouse, stood up and extended her hand, “Good morning principle Edwards.”
Principle Edwards adjusted his tie and began playing with his wedding band.
“As you do know, Art is unruly. Not only is his behavior unacceptable he is also failing subjects in his class. From what Mrs. Walker says, Art just doesn’t want to learn. Have you ever thought about Ritalin?” Principle Edwards flops down in his wooden desk chair.
“Ritalin? Oh hell no! My son does not need any drugs. He is bad, but shit he isn’t that bad.” Kim sadly looks at Art and grabs his hand.
Art does not look at Kim in return, he just concentrates hatefully on principle Edwards. Principle Edwards was around 5’6 and had to weigh a solid 200 lbs., he always wore a grey dingy two piece suit with a black collared shirt and an ugly emerald green tie. Principle Edwards was a bald man with a naturally wrinkled forehead and he had the darkest brown eyes anyone had ever seen and Art disliked catching whiff of his brunet Hulk Hogan mustache; for it always smelled like wet kitten. Displeased with his principles whole face, Art mugged Edwards lips; for they were disturbingly cracked. Art then started to pray silently to himself that principle Edwards would not smile; because behind his smile hid neglect of dental hygiene.
“Oh Mrs. Moore trust me I understand. However keep in mind that your son will most likely grow up to be a menace to society. Why not control him now?” Principle Edwards shifts through the papers that were scattered on his desk.
“First of all principle Edwards, you have no place to tell me what kind of man my son will become. Secondly think before you speak when you referring to mines.” Kim crosses her legs, and tightens her grip around Art’s hand.
“No disrespect Mrs. Moore I am just trying to help. Plus you could apply for cash benefits with the state if you are not already getting assistance.” Principle Edwards suggest, still shuffling papers.
Kim clears her throat and tilts her head back. She stares repulsively at principle Edwards before responding.
“So, when can he return to school?”
“In three days. Now if you need him to return sooner I can arrange that.” Principle Edwards stopped shuffling through the papers and looks at Kim seductively.
“I don’t know if something is wrong with your eyes, but I have some eye drops in my purse that you can use.” Kim lets go of Art’s hand to reach inside her bag.
“No. I don’t need eye drops.” Principle Edwards laughs and began to play with his wedding band again.
“Art will return on Thursday. Also you might want to clean that ring if it is irritating your finger like that.” Kim gets up from her seat and straightens her skirt.
Art looks at his mom and back at principle Edwards. The sweat that formed on principle Edwards forehead made Art bawl his fist.
“What you looking at principle Edwards?” Art broke his own silence.
Before principle Edwards could answer, Kim interrupted, “Shut up and let’s go.” Art gets up and follows his mother to the door.
“It’s ok. He can ask me anything he wants.” Principle Edwards laughs hysterically. RING! RING! RING!
The school bell blared, startling Kim and Art.
“I hate school.” Art said aloud, looking directly into principle Edwards eyes.
To Be Continued