(Die)versity

It was the beginning of Spring in Downtown Los Angeles. Two young girl scouts were set up in front of a luxurious high rise apartment. People walked by going on with their everyday lives, some of them moving towards or away from the building.

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?” the girl scout asked.

“Buy one, get one half off!” She picked up one of the Thin Mints and broke it in half just to get some attention. The ad for the apartment complex behind them was more prominent up on the roof, CONDOMINIUMS FOR SALE — www.939broadwaylofts.com.

The closest they got to someone stopping at their table was a man landing on a car from above on the street. The girls screamed. The car alarm rang loudly. It kept ringing and set off a few others nearby. The incident immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. People altered their course and began to circle the car the man landed on. The scene is gruesome as the man’s lifeless body lays on top of the crushed car.

An alarm rang and rang until Anthony Little lifted his arm up from under the bed sheet to turn it off. He pushed himself up on his elbows which sank equally far down into his mattress, giving him a net zero of progress in actually getting up. He managed to peek out at the time through heavy lidded eyes. 6:30 AM. Time for work. Anthony forced himself up and into his morning routine. He picked a clean, white shirt which contrasted his melanin skin, and layered it with a suit jacket. Once he was fully dressed he left his bedroom into the family-style apartment. His younger brother, Sebastian, and his grandmother Linda were already at the breakfast table with a full spread ready.

“Morning, Grandma,” Anthony greeted.

“Morning, honey,” she replied as she poured him a cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”

“Horrible,” Anthony said as he sat back down. His body felt glad to be at rest again, but the smell of the breakfast perked him up. He turned to his brother Sebastian seated across from him. “What’s up kid?”

“What’s up, man,” Sebastian replied. He was an adult in society’s eyes but couldn’t shake off the weight of his older brother and grandma looking at him the same way they had for 18 years.

“Why horrible, baby?” Linda asked. She set Anthony’s cup down. He took his coffee dark, just one extra punch to keep him up in the morning.

“Grandma…” He stalled to take a sip. Too hot, but he forced it down and moved to cool his mouth off with a pancake. “Come on. I don’t want to ruin this beautiful breakfast with work drama.”

“Oh,” she said, gossiping towards Sebastian, “it’s from this job.”

“Why did I even say anything?” Anthony replied.

“Anthony, I told you being the only black man working with nothing but white folks was gonna take a toll on you.”

He shook his head. “What toll? I go to work and come home like everybody else.”

“Anthony, you’re gonna lose yourself being around sun dodgers everyday. How you think they got OJ?” Sebastian held back a snicker.

“Grandma, just forget about it,” Anthony politely said.

“Okay, fine” she gave in.

“Thank you, Grandma.” Anthony turned his attention to Sebastian who was just about to clean his plate. “Big college man. You gonna miss me?”

“Nah,” Sebastian said between bites.

Anthony smirked and rolled his shoulders back. “That’s cold blooded.”

“I lived here for 18 years,” Sebastian said. “It’s time for me to branch off.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t miss your big brother.”

Sebastian stared up for a moment. “I’ll miss you, man. Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I’m happy. Mean ass little kid.”

“Be nice,” Linda said.

Anthony worked on his breakfast once again, but did not let the forks clacking against the dishes take over the space for conversation.

“You talk to Dad lately? He was asking about you,” Anthony asked Sebastian.

“No, but I’ll stop by to see him. It’s on the way. He actually wrote me not too long ago. He’s on his 4th appeal. They found new evidence.” Sebastian spoke with confidence. To Anthony, it sounded unearned.

“Sebastian, criminal appeals have a 7% success rate. Don’t let that man psych you into thinking he’ll be out. He did the same thing to me for years.”

“You have no sense of hope. You just said it yourself, it’s 7%, not zero.”

“Hey I hope for the best…” Anthony said, defusing Sebastian’s rising tone. “If he comes home, wonderful. If he doesn’t I’m not losing sleep over it. I know where he lives. I visit him once a month, that’s more realistic to me.”

“He’s coming home,” Sebastian said sternly. With that, he finished his breakfast, brought his dish to the sink, and left early.