October 24th, 2019

She was kicking him out.

It was mutual, but-

She was kicking him out.

Jazmine stood at the door, barring his entrance to the apartment building. Beside him in the parking lot was a suitcase and his computer bag. He wasn't upset, he wouldn't let himself be upset. It was his suggestion. He had planted the idea in her mind that they needed a break, they needed to be alone to face their childhood terrors.

She would return to her parents, he suspected. His headphones were firmly in place, a speaker at the National Action Network playing.

He wouldn't return to his grandfather's home. Nothing but ruin was there, it wouldn't be the obstacle he needed to face. He needed to help them, engage with his people like younger him tried to do before the thoughts became too painful and loud and he hid.

He gathered his bags and put them in the car, the weight of Jazmine's eyes on his back. In his ears, "while I had words working against me, you had something much more cruel, you have numbers working against you".

He closed the back seat door, gave her a wave she didn't return, her face wet, and he entered the driver's seat. He started the car, listening to the hum of the engine, and pressed his forehead against the cold steering wheel.

"African American median network is a small fraction of the national average, you all know that. You all know that African Americans are almost 6 times more likely to be incarcerated, you all know that. But this is something that most of you do not know; that according to a study that was published in the guardian a number of months ago, median African American net worth is projected to go to zero by 2053."

Huey lifted his head, looking in the rearview mirror at the young woman on the curb behind him.

He knew what he had to do. To heal himself, and to save her.