Before Malcolm leaves home he checks his reflection in the mirror. Is that hair on his upper lip? Slipping on Raybans, he adjusts the angle of his new Seahawks snapback hat.
All the times he’s been to the Aquarium and Malcolm still can’t wait to see the Giant Pacific Octopus. Last time it changed colors from reddish pink to brown in seconds. Maybe today it’ll squeeze through the exhibit tube, passing from one chamber to another.
He locks his bike in the rack outside the Boys and Girls Club. Jaylen is already there, opening a carton of breakfast bars for the little kids. “Help me out, homes.”
Standing next to Jaylen, Malcolm hands out juiceboxes.
“We’re going to the Aquarium. Watch out for octopi.” They giggle as his fingers, untamed tentacles, sputter toward them. Jaylen winks. It’s going to be a good day. First hot and sunny day in weeks.
Seventeen kids in bright green Boys and Girls Club tee shirts turtle their way to the light rail. As they cross MLK Way, a police cruiser squawks by, lights flashing. They keep walking. The cruiser follows until a bullhorn commands them to get back to the corner and wait.
An officer gets out of the car.
“What’s going on?” Jaylen steps in front of the kids.
“He fits the description in a robbery,” nodding at Malcolm. “Black male. Sunglasses. Seahawks snapback hat.”
“What? He’s been here all morning. We’re heading to the Aquarium,” Jaylen points to the train, now leaving the station.
“He fits the description,” the officer repeats.
Jaylen’s voice softens, “I’m telling you, Malcolm’s been here since 8 this morning. He helped to feed the little kids breakfast.”
“That may be, but we’re waiting for an ID from the victim,” turning to Malcolm. “Where were you before you got here? What did you do?”
Malcolm looks down the long block toward the Boys and Girls Club where his bike waits, locked to the rack.
“I ate breakfast. Rode my bike.” Calm. Clear. Like Mama taught him. A car slows to the curb. An old white lady in the back seat. He sucks in his breath.
“I locked my bike then helped Jaylen” – breathes out – “Sir.”
The officer puts a hand on the car roof and leans in, listening. “Are you sure?” he shrugs.
“Alright, you’re free to go,” walking back to his cruiser. “Enjoy your field trip.”
Boarding the train, Jaylen puts his arm around Malcolm.
“It happens to us all, brother. You handled yourself well.”
Malcolm nods, then calls Mama. She fusses over him, asks if he needs her to come get him.
When they get to the Aquarium, Malcolm goes straight to the Life of a Drifter exhibit. Surrounded by a column of moon jellies and anenomes, he watches the octopus propel its long body past sea stars and anenomes. Tiny suckers press against the glass, rocks, searching for a secure place to hold.
# # #
Phebe Jewell’s work appears or is forthcoming in “Flash Fiction Magazine,” “MoonPark Review,” “Sky Island Journal,” “The Airgonaut,” and “Every Day Fiction.” A teacher at Seattle Central College, she also volunteers for the Freedom Education Project Puget Sound, a nonprofit providing college courses for women in prison.
Photo: Qijin Xu
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