Family

A short story

The circle forms around me; I feel the steam rising. There’s an energy pulsating between us. I keep my eyes forward in between the ears of two heavily tattooed members. The sky is overcast, as most somber situations tend to be, with enough light to see the outline of my future brothers. I know the importance of this moment. I will not fail my brothers.

Stepping aside as if in some psychopathic choreographed dance, enough room is made for one of the enforcers to step forward. He carries a bat in one hand and brass knuckles loosely hang on the curved fingers of his other hand. Easily over six feet tall, he dwarfs my 5'4 frame. Had he not been put in prison for killing a white dude, he would have gone to play division one college rugby. His voice is smooth, but holds a power behind it. He says, “If you do not kill your youth, I will kill you in your youth.”

There is silent music playing, causing a synchronized movement in the circle. A swaying like a willow tree. Everyone takes their shirts off, leaving them in cargo shorts with a variety of different shoes. I take mine off as well.

“You have one minute. No fighting back, no blacking out . . . Go.”

I feel like a wounded moose, separated from its pack, now being devoured by the wolves. It is black, but I am conscious. I know I’m in pain, but I can’t feel anything. My ribs crack, I hear it; my nose is broken, I feel the tip of it touching my cheek. I keep my eyes closed, but I feel one of them being pushed back into my skull so I turn my body. A heel from a boot meets my forehead.

No one is making a sound except for the limbs bouncing off of my body and the small unconscious grunts coming from them. I can’t make a sound, even though I’m sobbing. I see my father’s fist coming towards me, I hear my mother telling me I’m worthless, I feel the cigarettes burnt out on my forearm, I hear the gunshots enter my brother, I can smell the blood coming from my nose. I almost black out, but I refuse. A man was murdered so I could get here, his wife screaming for me to stop. He was a member of the KKK and the head of his Knights of Columbus counsel. I brought a map with me to show him where our ancestors came from. I burned his arm with my cigarette until his skin turned black. Pushing a knife into his throat, staring right into his eyes, I said, “All empires fall, furthering the enslavement and repression of others will only burn your empire faster.”

He calls it. “Time.”

Not one person strikes me after time is called. They stop right when the enforcer says so. The circle forms again with the enforcer standing over me. I feel more tired now than ever in my life, but the last step is to stand back up; until I stand, I fail. My left foot drags itself flat while my hands begin to push up my torso. I come to a knee, before standing, looking at the enforcer in his eyes as I rise to my feet. With his brass knuckled hand, he grabs my jaw and stares at me for what feels like an hour.

He lets go of my jaw, raises his bat in the air and says, “Welcome, brother.”