Page 5 of Off the Charts
I turned looking over my shoulder at him. He’d calmed down and was staring out the window pulling at loose strings on the couch. I turned to face Shawn again. “Anything I should know about him?”
“Quiet, shy, and the little nigga got them hands. That’s it,” he chuckled. I shook my head to stop my laugh. “Miss Baxter is already calling his people up, so someone may or may not be here shortly. You know how that shit go.”
“I do. I got him.”
“I appreciate you bro. We’ll connect on this later. I’m going to handle the other nigga.”
We did a quick dap and when he opened the door, Ryan was in the hallway talking shit.
“That little nigga weak as fuck! Let me get at him! Let me go!”
The kid, who I now know as Zion, got up so fast charging toward the door that I barely caught his arm before he slipped out.
“Woah. Woah. You good,” I held him back, locking the door behind Shawn. “People like that, you don’t allow them to get in your head. Don’t give that situation any more of your energy. It’s done. You hear me?”
His eyes finally met mine and he spoke in the calmest tone. “He doesn’t want to see me again. I can bet you that, sir.”
I tried not to, but his little voice talking shit made me chuckle. “And I believe you. Now, take a seat.”
“Yes sir,” Zion mumbled and plopped down on the couch. I made sure to enable the feature that allowed me to lock the doors from the inside. Not only did it help with privacy, but when I had to call CPS on parents, it helped keep them from fleeing.
“We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Mr. Denver and you are?” I extended my fist to him.
He looked up from the floor to my fist then met me halfway. “Zion. Collins. It is nice to meet you, Mr. Denver. I heard you are cool.”
“You can say that.” I shrugged.
Not bothering to sit behind my desk, I leaned against it silently studying Zion. Based on the information Shawn had given me, I knew there wasn’t anything in his chart that would give me answers so I searched my brain trying to find the best way to approach him. My eyes moved to the basketball sticker that was half peeled off his shirt.
“Kobe or Jordan?”
His big watery eyes met mine again, but this time, he was looking like I had offended him. I chuckled. Zion swiped away his tears with the back of his hands.
“Are you trying to make me feel better about having to spend the rest of my school year at home?”
“No. I asked you Kobe or Bron?”
Zion blinked. “The numbers will say Bron, and he is a great player, and you cannot take that away from him, but nobody can make difficult shots like Kobe. When it was crunch time, he was going to come through especially when it came to free throws. Kobe didn’t get his flowers until he was gone and although I didn’t fully understand ball when he was alive, I study him now. He's elite and an amazing teammate. Most won’t agree, but he will forever be in my top three. Plus, he paved the way so Bron could ball. I’m going with Kobe all day.”
Impressed, I nodded my head. Zion was able to articulate his words and emotions well. People are shocked when I say that for kids over the age of five, but I know plenty of little niggas whose favorite color is bacon.
“I got to agree with you there. Who is your number one?”
“Allen Iverson.”
That answer threw me off. “Dam—dang! You really do know ball.”
“I do. Thanks to my dad.”
“How old are you?”
“Nine.”
I folded my arms against my chest. “You’re a smart guy, Zion.”
A little smile formed against his lips. “Thanks, Mr. Denver. Can I call my mom now?”
“We’ve done that already, so while we wait on her, you care to tell me what happened today? To my knowledge, you’ve never been in a situation like this. What sparked it?”
