Cabbage

Once upon a time, about 20 years ago, I met a little boy named Emmanuel. For the first two years I knew him, I didn't know his real name. Everybody in the neighborhood called him Cabbage. Don't know why, still don't know. But that's the way of nicknames I guess. I found out what his real name was when he started school. My mom taught at the school he attended and simply refused (as was her way) to call him by anything other than his Christian name. To this day I think she is the only person who never called him Cabbage.

Cabbage was a very sweet little boy who was born into some pretty bad circumstances. His mother was mentally unstable and, at that time, smoked crack and hung with nameless men on a regular basis. I remember one night about 2 in the morning, I heard Cabbage outside crying and I went out to see what was going on. He was walking up and down the sidewalk looking for his momma. He was about 4 at the time. She had gone off on one of her nightly runs, so we calmed him down and took him back home (next door) and let his grandmother know what was going on. (She had been asleep when he went out of the house.) His mom was not big on making sure he went to school, or anything else, so we (me and Rachel and her sister) kind of looked out for him like that.

My mom came over to visit one day, and Cabbage, for some odd reason, fell in love with the purse she was carrying. (You know, one of the big, old-fashioned, "old lady" purses with the clasp on the top, patent leather and all) He was so fascinated by it that my mom told him that she would give him a purse for his birthday. And she did. (Because my mom was cool like that) He was about 6 and he loved that purse.

Eventually, his mom quit smoking crack and quit running the streets and settled down to try to be a decent mom to him and his siblings. She still had her mental problems but they weren't so bad that they kept her from finally realizing and doing the right thing by her kids.

It was shortly thereafter that they moved from our neighborhood. We still saw them from time to time and just a couple of years ago, his mom moved in right next door to Rachel's daughter, April. By this time, Cabbage had grown up so much, we almost didn't recognize him. But when April told me who he was, I asked him "You still got that purse?" and he just smiled and laughed. "No, but I had it for a long time." He had gone through the usual rites of passage for so many young black men in the inner city, drugs, gangs, some jail time,the whole nine. But he had come up out of all that and was keeping it together and he was still the same old Cabbage, and it was so good to see that he had turned out okay, after all the stuff he had been through.

He went by April's house today, to check up on her and see how she was doing. (She had knee surgery not too long ago.) He had his baby with him and they sat for awhile talking about the old days (like 20-somethings can actually have "old days"). He got up to leave and told April that he would see her later on, he had to take the baby back to momma and then go check on his mom. But not to worry, he'd holler back at her later. If she needed anything, just let him know.

30 minutes later, his girlfriend's ex walked up to him while he was walking down the sidewalk and shot him in the head. He died instantly.

When Tara (April's sister) called me to tell me and her mom the news, the picture that filled my mind was not of Cabbage as he looked this week, last week or even last year. The image that I have, that will not go away, is of a 6 year old boy, innocent in so many respects, that just wanted a purse for his birthday. Because he was too young to know that most boys don't carry purses and he was too young to care.

I don't see a grown man who has gone through so much. I don't see a guy who is tough, who has a child of his own, who has gone from naivete to reality over the past 20 years. I just see a little boy who couldn't go to sleep until his momma got home, who had so much love in his heart for everyone.

Peace Emmanuel. God be with you. We'll keep an eye on your mom for you.

We love you.

Peace allllll............