FOUR
ON THE short car ride over, D'Andre Walker sat sulking in the back seat, trying to think of a way to turn the situation around.
“I don't see why I can't come too.”
His mom nodded. “We already told you. It's only three days. You can come along somewhere better next time.”
The car sped ahead through the New York City streets.
He jerked in anger. “I wanna go Barbados too!”
“And you will, D'Andre. Just not this time.”
“Hey,” his father interjected. “You best listen to your grandpops. Don't make him mad.”
“He's not gonna,” said Mom.
His father turned the final corner onto Grandpops' street in Queens. “Naw I'm serious, son. Your Grandpops is old school. He don't take no s**t. And he's strong. If he hits you, you ain't gettin' up.”
“He's gon' be good,” said Mom. “Aren't ya baby?”
