Accounts of the Ladoga High School reunion for the graduating class to which Tamarvan Barnes belonged, tell of a pretty standard affair. It took place in the high school gymnasium and when it was over, a handful of the attendees went to a large house in the woods of west Ladoga where they lit a bonfire and continued their celebration until the early morning.
Tamarvan was at this bonfire and though she hadn’t been spotted at the event in the school gymnasium, Viv showed up to the bonfire and gave Tamarvan a ride home well before the gathering ended. Tamarvan had driven to the event in the school gymnasium, but he’d had too much to drink to drive to the bonfire and he had passed out by the time Viv shook him awake enough to stand.
“I think he showed up drunk,” one of Tamarvan’s classmates explained. “Everybody was excited to see him because we had all heard he came to town the day before and no one had seen him in person or talked to him in years. But everyone was surprised, disappointed, ’cause all he wanted to do was drink. I think he threw up on someone at some point. He wasn’t the person any of us remember from school and I think everybody was surprised that he was drinking so much. Honestly, he seemed sad, or mad about something. He kept talking about Yusef Hassan. I didn’t know who that was until somebody reminded me.”
“I didn’t think you were coming,” Tamarvan said when he came to in the passenger’s seat.
“I didn’t come,” Viv said, obviously annoyed. “I saw pictures of you passed out with balls drawn on your cheek and recognized the handy work. Spencer says you gotta come out next week for another kegger.”
“There was a keg there?” Tamarvan said with a groan and he sat up in his seat and surveyed the scene outside.
“I haven’t seen you in five years, and here you are drunk as a skunk. I didn’t even know you drank.”
“I don’t,” he said. “It’s just crazy to be here. Seeing my family after so long was good, but they’re not the only thing in Ladoga, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when I got here, I realized that I had forgotten about Yusef. I didn’t really forget about him, but I just hadn’t thought about him, what happened to him, in so long. When I saw the middle school, it all came back like I was watching it on TV.”
“Yeah,” Viv said sympathetically. “I didn’t even know him like you did, but it’s a little infuriating how everybody just forgets about it. Black people act like you crazy for even bringing it up, but every time there’s something going on with black kids dying and there’s marches or whatever and people start remembering everybody we lost that don’t get justice ’cause of senseless violence and racism, I always remind people about Yusef. Just ’cause I feel like black people forget that we capable of that mess too.”
Tamarvan was staring at Viv as she frowned out at the road through her windshield. She had grown up on the west side of Ladoga and the two had met when Tamarvan took summer classes at the nearby university. She was black, but her father had a successful business and her family was rich by Tamarvan’s standards. He’d introduced Viv to Yusef and Roger and they’d spent time together a few times before Yusef’s untimely death. She and Roger had maintained their friendship over the years.
“I don’t think they ever even arrested anybody for it,” Tamarvan said. “Nobody cared, but his family, his friends.”
“Roger says he goes to the police station every now and then and asks about it. He’s been doing it since Yusef died.”
Tamarvan was angry and he shook his head slowly.
“It was black men that killed him,” Tamarvan was slurring, but he spoke very deliberately. “I don’t necessarily want black men to go to jail, but I want people to care like they cared when Daedae got shot, or when Meeka got hit by that stray bullet. The church got involved, called for an end to violence and people marched down to city hall. Yusef grew up in the Bottoms just like Daedae and Meeka. It just hurts to think that nobody cares about him, his neighborhood doesn’t care because they didn’t really think he was part of it.”
“The real problem is law enforcement in Ladoga,” Viv said. “If a group of black boys had killed a white boy, or God forbid a white girl, they would have flipped the Bottoms upside down to find out who did it. Ladoga has always been a racist city, it hasn’t really changed since it was founded. Every mechanism of government is designed to protect and placate the white inhabitants, and everyone else has to have a lot of money or access to competent legal knowledge to make anything work for them.”
Viv pulled into the driveway of the home of Tamarvan’s old teacher. He was staring at her dreamily, still very drunk and his eyes were swimming in the sockets.
“Someone should fix it,” Viv said as the car idled.
“You should,” Tamarvan burped.
“Have you been listening? Ladoga is a racist town, of course it’s misogynistic. Even if I could get into government, I’ll have to waste time dealing with all the shit people give professional women. You have a pedigree. You could be the mayor.”
“Yeah, and then I could blow it all up.”
They both laughed and Tamarvan slunk out of Viv’s car, then staggered to the house.
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