A Family Affair Lib/E

Marcus Major is the bestselling author of a number of novels, including A Man Most Worthy, Good Peoples, and Four Guys and Trouble, as well as a novella in the anthology, Got to Be Real.

“Hey,” Leonard said as he settled onto the couch next to Amir, “your brother has been working out.”

Amir took a sip of his soda and scoffed. “He should have plenty of energy to work out.” He eyed Myles contemptuously. “Some of us have to do real work.”

Leonard laughed and looked proudly at Myles. “Tell him, son, you work hard. Not only are you a teacher, you’re a writer.”

“Aaah, oh.” Amir set the glass back onto the coffee table, “I almost forgot, this man here is a wordsmith,” he said grandly. “Do you want me to tell you what you are?” Myles asked smartly. He picked up the remote off the arm of the chair and turned to the other NFL pregame show.

“Uh-oh, ’Mir,” Leonard said playfully, “you better calm down before Myles puts it on you.”

Amir found the notion preposterous. “I don’t care how much this cat swells up, Pop. He’ll always be little brother to me.” Amir cracked his knuckles showily.

Myles had long ago perfected the practice of ignoring Amir, but Leonard laughed so loudly that it made Myles chuckle. Ever since they were kids, their father loved pitting them against each other. Myles just shook his head as he concentrated on what the commentator was saying about the Raiders-Chiefs game to be played later that day.

“I don’t know, ’Mir,” Leonard said, enjoying himself too much to let it go. “He’s a big dude.”

“Puh-lease,” Amir said, “what’s he gonna do, Pop? Backspace me to death?” Amir lifted his leg up defensively and cringed. “Put me in the dreaded parentheses?”

Leonard was now roaring. Margaret Eva Moore came into the den, quickly surveyed the room, and walked over to the coffee table, where she slid a coaster under Amir’s drink.

“Don’t y’all have anything better to do than mess with Myles?” she asked.

“Sadly, Mom, they don’t,” Myles said. “It’s the only respite they have from their monotonous, inconsequential tedium of an existence.”

Amir’s eyes widened. “Duck, Pop! He’s gonna big word us to death.” Amir lifted his forearm. “Thesaurus-shields up!”

Even Myles and Peggy were now laughing. Peggy eyed Leonard’s near empty glass.

“You want something else to drink, Lenny?”

“Yeah,” he snarled, “I would like to have something else to drink, but you won’t let me have a beer in my own house.”

His father’s tone, Myles noticed, seemed unnecessarily nasty. He looked over at Amir. Apparently, he didn’t think much of it because he was busily munching on a handful of potato chips. Myles looked up at his mother.

She let Leonard’s rudeness go. “So would you like iced tea, juice, or soda?” Peggy asked patiently.

Before Leonard answered, he noticed Myles’ gaze on him. When he spoke this time, the surliness was gone. “No, Peg, I’m fine.”

She turned and walked back into the kitchen. After waiting a minute or two, only to not look so obvious, Myles finished his soda, got up, and walked out of the room in search of his wife. Peering out into the backyard, Myles spotted Marisa and his cousin Jasmine sitting at the wooden picnic table. They were watching his twin eight-year-old nieces put on a karate exhibition. Myles chuckled at the seriousness etched on Deja’s and Jade’s faces as they went through a series of martial arts moves on the mat.

Marisa applauded enthusiastically. Jasmine, keeping in line with a proper teenager’s sense of blasé regarding everything in the world, mustered a few claps. Myles also noticed that Jasmine was following her dictum of wearing the most provocative clothing allowed. Half of her back was showing because of her low-slung jeans and her tight blouse. Recently turned seventeen and on the cusp of womanhood, it seemed to Myles that only a minute ago Jasmine was the twins’ age.

She was also on the cusp of giving her Aunt Peggy a heart attack. Since Jasmine’s mother had had another relapse and was locked up on drug charges, Jasmine was living with Myles’ parents. Despite the fact that Myles tried to warn her, she tested Peggy often. His mother was a sweet lady and all, but she was always a short trip away from blacking out when it came to disrespectful children. Apparently, from what Myles had been hearing of late, Jasmine wasn’t heeding his warning. Maybe because she didn’t believe him. Maybe because she didn’t think she was still a child, but rather an adult on equal footing with her aunt.

If that was the case, she was in for a rude awakening.

“Not bad, not bad,” Myles said as he stepped out into the backyard. “There were some areas that need improvement, though.”

“You know karate, Uncle Myles?” Deja asked, catching her breath.

“What?” Myles looked around dramatically. “You betta ask somebody!”

So Jade did. “Does Uncle Myles know karate, Aunt Marisa?” “Um, no,” she replied.

“You betta ask somebody else,” Myles railed. “I’m a master. In fact . . .” Myles looked around. “Too bad there are no cinder blocks for me to break into two.” He cracked his knuckles like Amir had done earlier.

“I’ll find one, if you like,” Jasmine offered smugly.

“Of course,” Myles continued, keeping his attention on the girls, “since you two are just starting, I know y’all don’t want any of me. If you did, I would teach you a thing or two . . . or three or four. “

“Oh, really?” Deja asked.

“Yeah, really.”

“Well, don’t sing it, bring it,” Jade said.

Myles began slipping out of his boots. “Well, I’m not in competition form, but I suppose I can wing it.”

“And when they break your arm, I suppose we can sling it,” Marisa chimed.

Myles stepped onto the mat and faced the twins. Smiling, he bowed grandly to them. Their response was fixed determination.

“All right,” Myles said, “let’s do this. . . .”

Fwoomp!

“Get up, come on . . . get up.”

Having missed the mat while taking his pratfall, Myles was laid out in the backyard next to a pile of leaves. He opened his eyes a sliver.

His nieces, Deja and Jade, were standing menacingly over him with their fists clenched, looking like miniature versions of Charlie’s Angels. Myles peeped the snarl on their faces. They looked ready, willing, and more than able to dispense more beatdown. They had the unmistakable “this is what happens to niggas who loud talk us” look on their faces. Their desire for him to get up was with that idea in mind, not out of any concern for his well-being.

Myles gave an exaggerated eye twitch and moaned. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Jade. “Mommy, can I go back in the water? It’s been an hour since I’ve eaten.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “On that note . . .” She got up and walked into the house.

“What?” Jade asked Myles.

“You said, I can go back in the water,” Myles insisted. “I ate my peanut butter and jelly over an hour ago.”

Myles noticed that Deja had eased slightly out of her fighting stance, but Jade wouldn’t relent. She was ruthless.

“She’s not your mother,” Deja said cautiously.

Myles turned his head toward her and looked at her wide-eyed. “Mommy, there’s two of you?”

“She’s not your mother either, and you’re not at the beach,” Jade said. She took a step toward Myles.

Myles flinched. He thought he was about to catch a Lugz in his midsection.

“Now, you was talking a lot of stuff before,” Jade continued. “You ready to back it up?”

Myles fought the urge to correct her “was” with “were” and instead propped himself up on his elbows and scowled at her in puzzlement. Then he grinned knowingly.

“You’re just joking with me, Mommy,” he said confidently. “If we’re not at the beach, then how come I have all these pretty birds flying over my head?” Myles sat up and grasped at the air. “I’m going to catch one for myself. Tweet-tweet little birdies, tweet-tweet.”

The twins laughed.

Marisa joined them on the mat.

“Grandma?” Myles asked, eyeing her. “I thought you were in Georgia.”

Marisa ignored him. “Girls, stop beating up your uncle. Your mother wants you inside.” She nodded in the direction of the kitchen window. Kenya was visible through it, motioning for the girls to come in.

“Okay, Aunt Marisa.”

The girls bowed toward their vanquished foe.

“You were a very worthy adversary, but we had to teach you a harsh lesson,” Deja said.

“Yeah,” Jade added, wagging her index finger like a pint-size Jackie Chan. “Next time, be more cautious with your words.”

Myles nodded softly, his face full of contrition. Lesson learned.

“You better check on him,” Jade said to Marisa as she made her way to the house. “He’s talk...