~November 1977~
Scotty and Anthony got off the bus at the entrance to Garden Hill Top; not exactly a school bus but the Metro--which is what kids in the city rode in order to get to the school. There were a few other kids from Winton Terrace that also went to Walnut Hills High School; Anthony Johnson was one of them.
Before going to Walnut Hills he hadn't known Anthony well, just that he was a kid in a lower grade. Now Anthony was someone that he actually liked. It was mostly born out of desperation. Scotty was lost at the huge school. He'd missed the opportunity to attend the summer bridge program that gave new attendees an opportunity to familiarize themselves with the massive building. Since Anthony had been going to the school from the beginning of the year he had an edge. Also, Anthony was just plain smart and despite being younger he was as big as Scotty. In just a matter of two or three weeks the boys had formed a friendship.
But the school wasn't as easy as Scotty thought it would be. One of his teachers had actually said that he shouldn't have been allowed to be included in the honors courses because his grades up until the Walnut Hills tests had all sucked. And then he had insinuated that Scotty had cheated and that getting in didn't mean that he would be able to stay in. He decided then and there that he would prove that he had a right to be there just as much as any of the other students.
But he couldn't deny that the class work was a challenge—not just because he was behind due to starting at the school two months late but because he had never been taught many of the things that he was expected to already know. And in addition to what he should have been taught he was expected to learn Latin as well as a foreign language—as if Latin wasn't already a foreign language. He was behind in his reading and should have already been reading Shakespeare not to mention other classics. He was told that he would have math homework every single day and that it would take him no less than two hours to complete. He had smirked to himself at that--until he ended up spending all evening on homework, leaving him little time for much else.
Scotty and Anthony walked to his house arguing good naturedly about the Super Bowl and who was going to win between the Broncos and the Cowboys. Anthony was going to tutor him in algebra and Scotty had absolutely no trepidation about being tutored by an underclassman. Opportunities needed to be accepted when offered. He was no longer that same cocky kid. And the algebra formula they were learning was literally kicking his ass. He was pretty sure that he should not have been placed in honors class—and probably shouldn't be at Walnut Hills High School at all—but he would never let anyone know that.
After an hour of tutoring he needed to go home to get started on his homework. It wasn't easy concentrating at home, though. The kids always came to him whenever they needed or wanted something. And even if they left him alone it was just too loud. And that was not even factoring in when Tino demanded his time. Tino wasn't someone that one could easily say no to.
When he got home, he found that the apartment was unnaturally quiet despite the fact that nearly everyone was there. Since it wasn't the end of the month there should be something worth eating in the house. But strangely no one was eating and although the television was on, no one was really watching it.
He gave Ginger a quizzical look because her eyes were red-rimmed. Had she been crying?
"What happened? 2-4-1-Kids been here?" He started counting heads. Tino and Beady were the only ones missing.
Scotty's mother was standing at the kitchen sink with her back to them. She braced herself on the counter and lowered her head. Tracy Tremont was thirty-two with eight children that ranged in age from 16 years to 8 months. Somehow she managed to still look little more than a teenager herself. Mostly that was due to the fact that she was thin to the point of emaciation. It gave her a waif-like quality. With pale skin and soft brown hair, Tracy was most definitely still able to turn heads. However, when her customers looked at her closely they saw the circles and lines beneath her eyes and the hardness developing around her thin lips. And then they no longer mistook her for the under-aged girl that they thought they were purchasing.
After a prolonged silence, Ginger was the only one willing to answer. "Beady got taken by CBS." CBS? Did she mean CPS, Child Protective Services?
"What?" Scotty said softly. "Why?"
No one answered.
"Mom!" He said sharply and she turned and gave him a confused look. She was high on something, but her red and puffy eyes carried the evidence that she had been crying as well. Scotty felt a thread of fear.
"Somebody molested her," Ginger said. "What does that mean, Scotty?" The seven year old whispered.
A cold chill ran down Scotty's spine. "Fuck … " Scotty ran his hand through his hair. He was stunned. Child Protective Services had been around before but mainly for things like negligence when the kids were left alone without adult supervision, or truancy because someone skipped school too much. CPS had even come around when Phonso's wrist had been broken and when Scotty came to school with one too many black eyes--but never because any of them had been touched sexually.
Beatrice was 13 and she and Scotty were a mere 10-months difference in age. He was very close to his sister with her tough attitude. He would have never thought that anyone would do something like that to Beady. She had gotten into and won more fights than any girl that he'd ever met. She didn't take shit off anyone. She was a product of the ghetto and made tough out of necessity. But Beady was lucky, because she knew who her father was she was able to escape to her relative's homes and often stayed with them during summer and Holiday breaks.