Monday morning came on off to work, I head for the elevator, the doors open, A guy is running down the hallway to catch it so I hold the door for him....He steps in and the doors close, "nice show the other night" he says, " aah ah glad you liked it" I stammer, " my names Ron, number 39, come by for a drink when you get off work" he said as he got off on the ground floor. I rode down to the garage wondering what to do.I headed home and rode the elevator up, what the hell I thought and turned. His skin was brown like coffee with cream, not dark dark, but not light either. I dont know if theres a term for that or not. I never had any black friends before and there werent that many black kids going to my school. His light eyes shining out from his darker complexion were absolutely amazing. It was like he could smile with them somehow. For sure, I had never been this close to a genuine star athlete. I guess I expected him to be all bragging and full of himself. But Quan wasnt. He was a. It was quieter than normal in our bedroom that night. I could tell Monica was awake but said nothing, no use getting into it besides what would be the point. Two days later, I noticed that Monica wasn’t wearing her engagement or wedding ring. While she was doing the dishes I snuck upstairs and looked in her jewelry box. They, along with everything I had ever given her was missing. ‘Please tell me you didn’t pawn your rings,’ I said to her back, as she washed the dishes at the sink. She said. There was a bright flash and a very loud clap of thunder that startled me. I made the mistake of running to the only refuge I thought would be safe, I ran head long into the arms of one of the men drinking in the alley way. One grabbed me, the other said ;'boy what be wrong with you', the other said 'I know that boy, John says he's a bitch boy'. The other on reached down and gripped my butt lifting me from the ground, mu feet flailing in the air. 'Come on let's find out which one he is', said.