Masked Issues

“Mom, come on. It is one night a year… That’s it one night. I mean can’t you just be a normal mom for one night?” Marlon an exasperated 12 year old was pleading with his mother about going out on Halloween.

“You can ask once, you can ask twice, you can ask a million times, but the answer is not going to change. The only thing that will be changing is my patience. Now go get your father, dinner is almost ready.”

Marlon knew when to give up. Turning tail he went to the den of their little single family home in Tinley park. Marlon could hear his dad from here yelling at the Cubs, not able to believe what was going on in the game. He was always like this with baseball and ever since they had moved back to the Windy city he had been more enthralled than ever. It also didn’t hurt that the Cubs were actually good.

“Dad, mom says dinner is ready and I was wondering-“

“-Whatever your mother said I agree with her and it is not happening,” his dad answered briskly, not taking his eyes away from the game. Marlon was fairly certain that his dad hadn’t heard a thing about dinner.

Taking his leave Marlon huffed back to his room, knowing that he had a few minutes- a few minutes to pout before his mom would fetch his father and then call him down. He needed those few minutes to be alone and regroup before he tried again.

Falling into his bed Marlon screamed into his pillow before turning flat on his back. It had been a hell of a year. His dad and mom had made the decision to move from Atlanta back to Chicago. Well, made the decision is putting it too nicely, his mom got a promotion so they moved back to the town his dad was raised in.

That had happened in January and things started out fine until March, then things changed. The incident happened and it changed everything for them. His dad, he still went to his job, but his mom lost hers. She lost hers and then became super mom, protector of all and guardian overlooking everything he did. He had been a good student, but ever since she had become so naggy he had slacked off some. Sure his counselors said it was the move, his mom thought that he was being lazy, his dad thought it was some combination of the two and every adult in his life reminding him, all the time, that he was becoming a young man and being black in America, at any age, but especially his, was dangerous. Especially for a kid developing a smart mouth and slacking off.

“Marlon. Where are you? I got your dad, now all we are missing is you,” Marlon’s mother yelled up to him.

Marlon turned over, got up, and trekked downstairs. Biding his time to fight another day.

………………………………

“Look man, who cares if your mom said no? We can come to my house, we can eat some pizza, have soda, I’ll get my parents to get us some bags of our favorite stuff. Or we can go to a party. You know I mean, I am sure there are a few going on that our parents would allow us, you know with safety and stuff in place.”

Leon, Marlon’s best friend, was trying to help him feel better. He lived on the South side and over the past few months they had seen less and less of each other. Mainly because Marlon’s mom was going postal on safety. During March and April it had made sense to him, but now? Now? Come on, it was October. Chatting through text they made plans they were not sure could happen.

“Do you really think my rents would let me go to a party like that? Come now?”

“Look man, you can’t just… Well you know…. Come on, doesn’t a party sound like fun?”

“Of course it does, but that will not do anything to sawy her. You have seen her. Come on man. I just don’t get it.”

Marlon was done trying to figure out his mom. He knew that Leon was trying, trying to bring him up, but the year had just been so damn long. He understood the dangers, but it was just a stupid mask and it was just one night. He didn’t care that he was 12, he didn’t care that some people thought he was too old to go trick or treating. He didn’t care that he had been invited to three parties, two of which Leon didn’t know about, he didn’t care about that at all. He didn’t care. As Marlon saw it, he had the mask, and trick or treating would be safer than some party with people he barely liked. He needed to go out, get some fresh air, and some candy. He wanted a piece of normalcy.

……………

The next few days Marlon kept his head down at home and school. Too many kids asked him about the party and when he tried to play it off, they didn’t buy it. It drove him mad, kids rushing to him, because he was tall and black, in a sea of cream, made him cool. He didn’t like basketball, he loved baseball, he wasn’t down with this or that, and overall it drove him mad that here, unlike at his old school, he was seen as some sort of attraction. His school only had 4% African American students, and the rest of them had grown up and blended into these kids. They saw them as kids and that, in the end, was all he wanted. Was to be seen as a kid.

“Marlon can you come in here?” His mother called as he came home from school, barely escaping the bus as people hounded him about the party, or about if he was trying out for the basketball team. Marlon hesitated a second. He heard that tone in her voice, that tone that said he had done something wrong, but Marlon was sure he hadn’t. He had said yes sir and ma’am to everyone, he had picked up his room, did his laundry, and even had aced two quizzes he had had this week. It was all a part of his plan. If he showed he could be perfect and get the mood right maybe, just maybe he could get his mom to say yes. Then…. Then it would all be fine.

“Yeah,” Marlon said from the door, still unsure if he wanted to be home. Realizing that by responding he had divulged the fact that he was home and not just the sound of the wind. Damn… he thought to himself. I could have just walked back out. Of course then he would have been harassed again. “Coming mom.”

Walking into the kitchen Marlon was officially worried. His mom was sitting at the table, the scent of cookies that had wafted down the hall were in fact on the table, his favorite double chocolate chip, and everything was just so perfect and proper. It was as if the air was ready to interrogate him. His mother was prim, pressed, and perfect and he was sure this is how she looked when she was about to negotiate a big deal. Marlon wondered if the people entering those rooms felt as helpless as he did.

“Please sit,” she invited him with a command. Marlon took the seat that she had pulled out, she poured and pushed him a glass of milk, then passed him a little plate of cookies. Marlon took the milk and cookies and tried to enjoy a few as his mothers gaze pressed down on him, making that almost impossible.

“How are they? Did you have a good day?” Marlon’s mother asked as he slowed down.

“They’re great,” he lied, not sure if he had even tasted them under this pressure. “And it was a good day. I mean, you know I got a good score on my history quiz and well baseball sign ups are coming up and…”

He trailed off. His mother’s smiles and nods were all a facade. He could see that from here.

“Well, baseball that could be fun. We will have to see about that.”

Marlon wished she would just spit it out. The smile, her white teeth and big eyes, framed by her blonde straight hair, he couldn’t take it at all. He just couldn’t.

“Mom… wha-”

“-Marlon I got a call from Miss Grassi, you know Veronica’s mom, and well she told me that they were having a party at their place and was wondering if you were coming. They said they hadn’t received your RSVP yet. I told her I didn’t know, but I would talk to you and call her. So do you care to tell me why Mrs. Grassi had to call and tell me about a party?”

Marlon gulped. Ahh, it made sense. Of course she would be like this about the stupid party. Marlon had purposefully thrown away the invitations. He didn’t want to go so he wasn’t really worried about talking about it.

“Well mom, you see, I wasn’t…. Well I wasn’t going to go, so I just threw them out and-”

Marlon knew he had made a misstep.

“-Marlon. Come now, I thought we had taught you better. I would have liked to know,” his mother started.”

“As I said. I wasn’t planning on going.”

“And you didn’t tell Mris Grassi or Veronica?” His mother pressed. “I thought you knew better.”

“I was going too,” Marlon lied sure that his mother saw right through it. “I just hadn’t-”

“-And beyond that,” his mother butted in. “Why wouldn’t you want to go? Veronica is a lovely girl. Her mother told me all about the party. It is going to be outside with plenty of space for everyone to spread out. It is a costume party so you could dress up. You know, get out, get to know some of the kids.”

Marlon just stared blankly at his mother as she rambled on about the importance of socializing. The woman who had basically made him a hermit for his safety was now endorsing some outdoor shindig?

“Can I wear any costume I want to?”

“Within reason.”

“The one I was going to wear this-”

“-No…”

“Why not?” Marlon started to feel the anger rising as the real issue was coming to the surface.

“You know exactly why not. I am not having this conversation again-”

“-Then I guess I’m not going-”

“-Why not?-“

“-Because I don’t have a costume to wear,-” Marlon spat as they started talking at and over each other.

“-That is not true. Plus we can get you a costume.-”

“-You just don’t get it.” Marlon snarled. By this point his fists were balled, he was looking down and getting angry. His mom’s voice was raised as this little talk was becoming hostile.

“What don’t I get?” his mom finally asked.

“You’re not black…”

And with that Marlon got up and left the kitchen, leaving his mom, stunned, alone with her thoughts.

………….

Marlon wasn’t sure why he said it. He really wasn’t sure. Was Michelle his real mom? Yes. Biological? No.

Marlon’s mom had died in childbirth and Michelle had found his dad during a really dark time. She was a medical sales rep. She actually met his dad in the hallway right after it happened and something about that meeting changed their lives.

She took all of her vacation just to help Marlon’s dad get through it. She helped him plan the funeral and looked after Marlon ever since he was born. After three weeks of this she stopped by every time she was in town. She even left her job on the road for one in corporate sales and marketing, just so she could be around more often.

No one in the family had an issue with Michelle. No one. She was compassionate, kind, caring, loving, loyal, and after being a surrogate mother and wife for about a year and a half her and Marlon’s dad had officially tied the knot.

Marlon had never once questioned Michelle as his mother. Never. He had never said anything like that to her before. Marlon had seen the looks she got in the stores. He had seen the remarks she got for just being with his dad. And the past few years he had even seen how she had to continue to adjust.

A month after they moved into this home Marlon and his mom were on a walk. Marlon stopped to tie his shoes, and a cop car rolled by, flashed his lights at him. Michelle turned around immediately, and in her own way somehow defused the situation.

No guns were drawn, but Marlon had seen the cops reaching. They asked Michelle to stay back and having the presence of mind she did that, she did that as she explained that Marlon was her son and they were just on a simple walk together. The cops asked a few more questions. My mom continued to explain and then did something Marlon hadn’t expected. She invited the cops over for dinner.

They broke bread with their family. His mother acting as a bridge between the cops and her young son, his dad late at work. What had started as a tense moment ended with him talking baseball with the two men.

Michelle did that for every single patrol pair in the neighborhood. She brought Marlon to see the officers at the station, she got to know them and had Marlon get to know them. Michelle had always been hyper aware of her place and the challenges her husband and son faced just for being black… And now Marlon had said something he couldn’t really take back.

……………

His dad never came up to talk with him that night. Marlon laid in his room and stared at the ceiling. Marlon was pretty sure that his dad knew something had happened between the two of them, but his mom wouldn’t have said anything. She would want to deal with this on her own. She would give him his space, make a plan, at least that’s what he thought.

Over the next few days every time Marlon saw his mom she was cordial; eerily polite and nice. Her eyes were bloodshot though and looked as if she had just got done crying. Marlon wanted to say sorry, but he didn’t know how, and also he didn’t really know that he wanted to say it. He was still angry. He was still frustrated. The only inkling he had that he wanted to apologize was that his chest and stomach felt heavy, he knew he was wrong, but being 12 meant he didn’t need to admit that.

After a week Marlon was sure that his mom had talked to his dad. He saw the hushed conversations stopping when he came in. He was also sure that his dad wanted to have a conversation with him, but his mom wouldn’t allow that. Instead things festered and grew. Pressure mounted as the strain of the year built. His mom’s unemployment, the isolation, the fear. It all grew until one night, a week before the party, Marlon decided he was going to take matters into his own hand. He was going to prove his mother wrong.

Marlon decided he was going to put on his costume, go for a walk around the neighborhood, and show his mom that it was safe. It was a simple plan and he knew that that was all he needed to show her that she had gone mad for no reason. So Marlon got out the components of the costume he had carefully crafted during his summer seclusion.

Marlon had know that this was going to be his last trick or treating year. He understood that. He understood that despite how much he loved it that he was aging out of it. So he had thought about all of the costumes that he had worn over the years and picked the one that he had loved the most and decided to redo it. He picked the one from when he was six: Shredder from the ninja turtles.

Without his mom’s knowledge he painstakingly ordered the supplies he needed. He ordered a purple shirt, that he quickly transformed into a cape. He sewed it and everything so it would be just right. He had a pair of black jeans and boots already, so he ordered a tight athletic shirt. Marlon had always been athletic, but he had worked out extra hard just so he could have the abs that would show through.

He built the sharp, studded shin and wrist guards. They took him weeks of meticulously cutting, glueing, painting, and covering with foil, but the prop pieces looked sharp and deadly.

The only thing he had left was the helmet, which he had forgone and changed. It was a simple facemask, he figured he didn’t need the big bulky helmet, but to keep the stealth look. For good measure he added a hood to it.

Donning the costume for the first time Marlon looked himself over in the mirror and froze.

He looked stealth, sleek, and sharp. Not like the cartoon, but like his vision of what Shredder would be. He looked like a super villain. His months of hard work stared back at him. His physique, his hours of scratching and clawing. Marlon was ready to show the world and, more importantly, his mom

The cops know me… Marlon thought as the conversations he had had with his mom and dad creeped into his mind. The memory of that first walk coming back. They have all been to my house. I even discussed the costume idea with a few of them. That was how his mom had found out about it. She didn’t know that it was finished and thought it was just an idea. He didn’t inform her otherwise and had kept it hidden until right now. Until tonight.

Marlon didn’t wait, scampering out of his window, he jumped down from the roof and took off. It had taken him longer than he had liked, the window getting suck when he tried to close it, but that didn’t matter now. He was off, ignorant of the fact that a neighbor had watched some of it from their window across the street.

…….

“911- What is your emergency?” an operator took the call.

“There is someone, breaking into homes. They just tried to break into my neighbor’s home, I am going to call them in a second. But I thought you should know. It looked like he got stuck trying to go through an upper story window and gave up. He jumped down from the roof and ran.

“Where are you sir?”

“I am at the corner of….”

The man gave his location and the direction Marlon had run. Before long the cops were on their way.

………..

Marlon was enjoying the brisk air. He wondered what he should do? Just go on the normal walk. That was it. He kept telling himself. Go on a quick walk and then home. This was all just to prove that it was safe to his mom.

The problem was Marlon didn’t have a normal route here. Back in Atlanta he knew every home, every house to avoid and which to hit twice. He knew who gave out full size and kingsize candy bars and who gave out floss. Now he had no idea. So he debated. Did he go on a longer walk? One that may actually be his route? Or just a short one to prove a point.

Lost in his own thoughts Marlon didn’t see the people looking sideways at him as he ran down the street. He didn’t see the whispers. He certainly didn’t see the people avoiding him. He thought about figuring out how much candy people handed out by how much they decorated. Of course this year it seemed to that fewer houses were decorated than he would have expected. Maybe they just decorated later. He had no point of comparison.

The sun was getting low. Marlon was almost there, just two blocks away after taking a medium long walk, deciding to take the middle ground on his thoughts. He was about to round the corner, so he would be able to see his house, he was flying high, ready to prove his mother wrong, when his world and bubble crashed around him.

Lights flashed, someone yelled at him over a bull horn, Marlon froze and turned, blinded by the headlights and searchlights on top of two police cruisers.

“Drop the weapons,” Marlon heard screamed at him over the intercom as four people jumped out of their SUV style cruisers. Four doors were open, four shapes were there, all holding something out at him. Marlon knew instinctively what it was. They had their guns pointing right at him.

Martin’s head raced as his eyes adjusted. Officer McNeal, Officer Pec, Officer Ramirez, and Officer Smith were all pointing their guns at him. At the boy who they had talked baseball with, the ones he had dinner with, the ones he had played catch with and visited at the station with cookies.

As Marlon tried to comprehend how this had gone so wrong the more immediate problem mounted: What did he do?

His father had been talking to him for years about a situation like this. Ever since he was nine and did his hair in cornrows for the first time.

“Do whatever the officers ask son. Don’t argue, don’t say anything. If you do have to say something it is always yes sir or ma’am. You don’t resist. And most of all you do what they say.”

His father’s voice kept repeating the same thing over and over to him in his head as Marlon realized he didn’t know how to do it. Spray paint, cardboard, and aluminum foil attached to old rollerblading protective gear looked like some sort of weapon that he couldn’t drop. He couldn’t take them off without moving.

If he moved he was dead Marlon knew that. If he ran he was dead. He also knew that. If he didn’t get these things off. He was dead. What if he spoke?

“Officer Ramer-“

“-Drop the weapons?” the intercom spoke again, drowning out any attempt he had at a response.

Brow furled with sweat the world seemed too close in. Why had he not listened? Why was this happening now? Why had he insisted on creating something so life like? He didn’t even like the ninja turtles anymore. What was he thinking? The thoughts raced, but one bobbed above the surface: His mom was right…. His mom was right…..

“Offic…” He tried to speak again as his muscles became fatigued. He had no idea how long they had been in this stand off, unable to communicate his true intentions to four officers who saw a threat. It could have been thirty seconds or it could have been an hour. All Marlon knew was his arms were tired and his legs were wobbly. He was going to move…

Marlon’s eyes lost focus on the world around him. He didn’t see the neighbors peeking out their windows. He didn’t see the lights anymore, or even three of the officers. All he saw was the gun. He saw Officer Ramirez, his faced scared and taut as he battled the same struggle Marlon was, one for survival. Ramirez didn’t realize this was him. He didn’t realize that Marlon was a 12 year old boy. All he saw was a tall, black man, with knives. Marlon didn’t know that the police had received three calls. Marlon didn’t know that one of his neighbors had reported him as a possible break in. All he knew was the gun.

He could almost see down the barrel. He could see the chamber, the bullet that he knew would come for him. Marlon’s arms were tired he was going to move. He was sure his life flashed before his eyes. Marlon couldn’t focus, his mind wandering, all to the bullet, he was sure he was going to move.

“This is your last….”

The voice stopped.

Marlon’s heart skipped a beat.

Then Marlon heard it.

His heart stopped.

………………

“That’s my son,” Marlon heard Michelle, his mom, yelling. “Please sergeant, tell your men to put down their guns… Please…. I promise you that’s my boy….”

Marlon could hear the anguish, fear, and pain in his mother’s voice. He could hear her struggle against someone or two someones holding her back.

“Please…”

“Men… Stand down I am going in,” Marlon heard Sgt. Richards say over the radio, before the voice was directed at him. “I need you to lay down on the ground Marlon. Lay down and I will be coming over. Do not move once you are on the ground. Spread your arms and legs wide. And I repeat do not move.”

Marlon’s breath was gone again, danger still racing through his veins as he tried to comply as best he could. Not wanting to move too fast and not wanting to move too slow. He lowered himself, he put himself on his belly, and resisted the urge to pull off the mask from his face. He spread his arms and laid there, prone, exposed, for whatever was about to come.

He heard the sergeants boots bounce off the pavement, his breath heavy, fighting every urge to yell out to the man who had given him his new glove. Marlon followed his dads advice and laid there.

The approach was paced, calculated, cautious. His mother’s whimpers, small pleas coming in and out. His father consoling her as she went.

A boot kicked the blades on his right wrist and they crumpled. The sergeant walked around his head and did it to the other one…. Then he felt his arms pulled behind his back, forcefully, painfully as cuffs were applied.

Once they were on he was jerked up and turned around.

“Marlon?” the sergeant asked.

“Yes sir…”

“Dear god boy,” the man said as he removed the mask form his face. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Marlon couldn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“Well you caused quite the commotion. Come on let's get these off of you and get you back to your mother.”

Marlon felt the cuffs come off and life became a blur. His mom raced towards him and he her. They embraced and cried together. He kept saying “sorry… sorry… sorry….” All while she stroked his hair, kissing him, holding him, telling him it would be okay. Holding the boy everyone had mistaken for a man.

The sergeant talked to Marlon about what he had done. About why it had happened and explained why it couldn’t happen again. Marlon nodded and said yes sir. His dad had the same conversation with him after the police left. Marlon never thought to ask about why his neighbors had felt so threatened or if this really was all his fault. He just nodded and agreed. Marlon threw away the costume never wanting to see it again and in the end fell asleep almost as soon as his mom tucked him in.

The rest of that week Marlon stayed home. He was tired and exhausted. Almost dying can do that to you. He cut his hair and went to the police station to apologize. He listened to nightly lectures from his dad. But his mom, she didn’t yell or anything else.

She gave him love and support, like she had his dad. She started to dig deeper into what had happened, wondering if there was a bigger problem. She wondered how her 12 year old son had almost lost his life. She wanted to do something so no other parent would ever have to feel that fear or pain. She understood that 9/11 was fresh in everyones minds, but that hardly excused what had happened.

Marlon never went to the party. Or trick or treating. He just stayed at home. The baseball season over after Steve Bartman had messed it up all those weeks ago.

Marlon helped his mom with her research as she tried to tackle everything from police reform to school shootings. She had been doing research on school shootings for months. So worried that since the Columbine shooting they seemed to be escalating and getting more frequent. The John McDoughn shooting being the one that pushed her over the edge. Now police reform was on top of her list as well.

Marlon had never worried about these things before, but now, after being so close to dying, he really got it. He grew up in the blink of an eye and hoped he could help her make it better. Marlon got that the 2000’s were only three years old, he just hoped they could make it better. That the shootings would go down and that his children wouldn’t have to carry the same fear he did. Marlon hoped it wouldn’t be another decade of lessons not learned.