A Story By: L. B. Horton
Our son hasn’t been the same since that night. He never wants to talk to us about it, every time we bring it up he changes the subject quickly. I guess if I’d done something of the sort, I’d feel the same way as well. Even with that incident taking place I’m still proud of the person he’s becoming. One thing I can say is, the shift in his personality hasn’t been subtle. Makai use to be a chatter box! We couldn’t get him to quiet down for anything…even before he could use words. We’d say, “man, little dude’s got a lot to say.” Baby boy would just go on and on and on. Once he began using words, it was over. There was no “why phase”, it lasted too long to be considered a phase. He questioned everything…”How this is like this? Where are these made?” We’d spend our whole day answering questions. Should have known that was his way of telling us that he had a thirst for knowledge. The boy loved to learn, he loved to read as well. We could give him a book and that would be his pacifier…an hour later he was out! One of the things that surprised the most was, the fact that he remained this way through middle and high school. You know most kids once they get out of elementary school learning becomes a chore. Not our Makai, we didn’t have to mention a word about homework to him. He was the only kid I’d known that would sit himself down and do his homework on his own. Not only did he like school he loved his sports just as much and I think that added to the homework thing. Makai knew…”Homework not done, no practice.” I’m certainly glad he held himself to that mark. Our boy was a walking 4.0 on top of being a walking touchdown. When he was about 6 we finally signed him up for little league football. We tried to get him in sooner but he was too small so we waited. He took to it immediately…those tiny legs and that big head running over and around everyone. It was great! Just before his 11 birthday, Makai hit a growth spurt that shot him to about 5’5″…which is huge at that age. So with this came all of the “that kid is too old to be playing with these kids!” From parents who’s kids sucked anyway! We tried our best to keep that stuff away from him because we knew it would take a toll on him and it did. He just wanted to play and be left alone. By the time he reached middle school the growth slowed down and the other kids started to catch up. Also by this time he had been moved to quarterback, which I didn’t think would work at first but….the kid was a natural. And he was a lefty so that made him unorthodox. He earned a starting spot on varsity early in his freshman year and never looked back…he and his best friend Dooda who’s real name was Shareef were a crazy combo. Dooda was a receiver…all of 6′ 170 pounds. All Makai had to do was throw it up and Dooda was right there to snag it. The team lost just about every game their freshman year and went undefeated their sophomore season…of course everyone was proud. Mainly because the team they beat in the final game of the season, they hadn’t beaten them in 15 years. We knew it was coming too, you could just feel it as the game went on….they got weaker and we got stronger. They wound up winning their division and conference but fell short during playoffs. But I guess that’s what happens when one of your best players is in jail. It was a phone call we would’ve never expected to receive in a million years. It shook us to the core. Our son was in jail for stabbing someone he was very close to. Our initial reaction was one of shock and then fear. Several questions ran between the two of us….”Why? What happened? Who was it? Why didn’t we accompany him to the party? How did something escalate to point of him pulling a knife?” As we get to him and do what we had to do to get him released. We could see the concern on his face. The first thing he said when he saw us was, “I’m sorry guys! I just closed my eyes and swung…I didn’t mean it!”…”We know son, come on so we can get you home.” Once we got him in the car, the radio cut on and Mak asked us to turn it off. We asked why and he said “I just don’t want to hear anything about what happened and I know it’s going to come on at some point.” At this point we hadn’t know who the victim was, we just knew that he was still alive but in serious condition. When we arrived home Mak went straight to his room and we sat and wondered what would’ve caused this. As we spoke I decided to turn on the tv and as soon as I did so the reporter came on with a news break…”the victim of what witnesses describe as an accidental stabbing…has been pronounced dead just a few minutes ago. After doctors tried desperately to save the young man. Shareef Abdullah was stabbed earlier this evening in what was an argument that turned in to a fist fight.” Our faces dropped and we feared the worst. “Was he the person that Makai stabbed?….could that be why he didn’t want to talk about what happened?” Neither wanted to be the one to break the news to him but we had to. As we approached the stairs we heard his room door open and he approached the stairs at the same time…with a blank look on his face. “He’s dead isn’t he?”…unsure of what to say we just nodded our heads. Mak immediately broke down at the top of our stairs. And kept saying “I didn’t mean it….they charged at me and I swung…I didn’t even realize I had my knife out!” As if this was an already perplexing situation….my wife blurted out, “he’s your son, you handle it.” Was she suggesting that because she wasn’t his biological mother that she had no stake in figuring out what to do next? Time went on, Makai wasn’t charged seeing as though he was a minor and everyone attested that it was indeed an accident. His only punishment aside from the mental ramifications was, he was to be expelled from his school. At one point the superintendent wanted my boy out of his district as a whole but some strings were pulled and that never happened. He got to stay in his home district but had to go the only school that would take him. Unfortunately it was all the way across town. He agreed he’d go and make the best of it.
To be Continued…..
Respect. 