I always got rides to and from elementary school, which would’ve been too far to walk even if I’d been old enough to do it on my own. My mother might’ve drove me there most mornings; I remember her being there the time I was too shy to come to the door when the girl I had a crush on held it open for me in kindergarten or first grade; but I think it was my grandmother who usually drove me home. She’d pick me up in her old gray car with the brown vinyl seats. I still remember the way it smelled. The only time I remember my mother picking me up was after my senior trip to Boblo.
Middle school was close enough for me to walk as I did in the morning and back home most days. I was nervous about it at the beginning, especially after seeing Morrell getting beat up by a group of boys, but I quickly got used to it. In fact, while I wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s something I enjoyed, I didn’t mind it. It was more of a leisure than a burden except for the day I got sucker-punched. The kid walking ahead of me took-off running when he saw the gang, but I was too clueless to follow. Then there was the time Chantelle; another girl I had a crush on; tried to bully me with her friends.
In the seventh or eighth grade, I started walking home with my best friend Derrell. We’d walk up Conant until we got to Six Mile, literally halfway from my house, then part ways. I remember the day we stopped to have a wrestling match for the faux federation we ran at the school, much to the entertainment of the two boys who stopped to watch. One of them said, with a laugh and a smile, that he could tell I was The Undertaker by the way I lifted the lid to the garbage can as if it were a casket. I think I beat Derrell that day, by his own decision, since we never really wrestled to pinfall.
My brother Tobe picked me up the day either Henry or Eugene hit me in the eye, just millimeters from the pupil, with a flying paper clip or something similar. I remember being in the office when the secretary started laughing at the fact that my brother arrived to pick me up on a bicycle. He drove Derrell home one day too; in his car or jeep; the day he (Derrell) slipped and almost fell getting out. That was hilarious. My mother picked me up on some days in her minivan. I remember James seeing her and making comments that suggested he was sexually attracted to her. Dry heave.
Other middle school memories include kids lying in the street then jumping up to startle on-coming traffic, the aftermath of a lump-headed boy who just got hit by a car, a trench-coated smoker named Frank who used to walk with me sometimes, walking to school with a boy who said he had a gun in his pants and being held at gunpoint by cops who claimed I fit the description of their suspect. Eyewitness Eugene asked me about that particular incident later that day. I also remember Tobe, more than once, driving me and Johnny to school to Spice 1’s Fuckin Murderer song.
I attended four different high schools. Walking to and from, or at least from, the primary one was something I generally enjoyed. Though the trip was a little further than middle school; about a mile and a half; it was a better experience. That’s mostly because it was a lot less dangerous, or at least it seemed to be, as bullies and such had more-or-less become a thing of the past. One thing I often did to pass the time was rap (freestyle) to myself, in my mind, to imaginary beats, which I actually started doing in middle school. It just became more of a tradition in high school.
I can remember getting rides to and from that particular high school only a few times. My uncle Gabe took me the time I needed a parent or guardian to get me back in after I got suspended. My Big Brothers mentor Richard picked me up in his gold Lexus on at least one occasion. It was probably the day he stopped by to get some books from mister Kidney. My art teacher took me home one day. I’d walk most days though and usually alone. I started walking home with friends like Michael, Derek, Sabrina and Joi toward the end, at least as far as we could before parting ways.
My other high schools, which I attended for shorter periods of time, gave me a break from all that walking. I did walk home when I stayed with my aunt in Greenville, Mississippi, but she usually, if not always, drove me there. She also drove my nieces to school. I remember the time she cussed out some little girl’s mother because the daughter cut off a piece of my niece’s hair. I also remember the time I lost my apartment key. We found it on the ground, but she yelled at me in the car, nonstop, until her distractive anger almost caused us to crash. She stayed quiet after that.
The only time I ever rode the yellow bus was on the occasional elementary or middle school field trip; I never rode it in high school; but I rode the DDOT/Smart bus to and from two of my four high schools. One I attended for summer classes to make up credits. That’s where I met Greg and Muffin. The other is the one miss Sanneh drove me and my Journalism classmates to and home from the day she treated us to dinner at Hellas. That’s also the school Morrell used to give me rides from sometimes. He didn’t know about the time I saw him getting beat up and kept walking.