January 9

Dear Sammy,

I miss you so much. I know I haven't talked to you in a while. I been...busy. But that's no excuse. Charity said I should write you a letter. She said that she's been writing you every day for years and showed me the book that she keeps her letters in. How crazy is that? Before she told me, I never knew that's what she was always doing in your room. I thought I knew everything about her. I'm real proud of Charity, Sammy, and I know you would be, too. She's a junior at Texas Southern now, and about to marry that dude. Kevin Watson. He better be good to her, because if he's not...well, you already know.

Mama's good and Wallace is still holding them down for me. I'm real glad he's with her. With them. He's a good dude. A good father to Charity and the girls. I kinda...try to do what he does sometimes. But I would never tell him that. Don't tell anybody sis, but I do try to be like him sometimes. Like how he stays calm. And looks at the big picture. And I try to see the other person's side of things before I react to anything, like he does. And I still try to take care of my family, just like him and daddy...and Rico, too. But for now, up here, my only family is Jazz. Jasmine. Jasmine. I try my best to only call her Jasmine because it makes her feel...like a good person. I'll never understand that. She's always been a good person. The best person I know. But she still wants me to take her to church every Sunday. EVERY Sunday. I don't mind, because we should be going anyway, but it's like she's...just trying to make sure that she gets in. You know what I mean? I don't blame her. I hope I get in, too.

And I take her because it's the least I can do. She struggles every day with the past. And it's the least I can do to try to keep her here in the present, with me.

She takes real good care of me, Sammy. You would be glad. I try to take good care of her, too. As much as I can. But I'm in school now, so I can't really do it like I used to. I'm a math major because...well, you know. It makes sense. But I'm thinking about being an architect, like Wallace. That dude gets PAID. He took me to Chicago last year. Showed me the sky scrapers. They're HUGE. Even bigger than the ones in Houston. They're shaped all different kind of ways. He showed me all of the things that inspired him to become an architect. Said that he did an internship up there one summer while he was in school and never wanted to do anything else after that. When we got back to VA, I felt like a completely different person. I told Jazz that I would go to college.

And I did.

I'm glad she wanted me up here with her. I don't really know what I would be doing right now if I stayed in Houston. I'm not even too convinced that I wouldn't be up there with you by now, or locked up with Rico. I don't even want to think about that shit. Jazz lied to me to get me up here, Sammy. Can you believe that? Jazz NEVER lies. She said that she fought mama for me. And WON. What type of shit? JAZZ won? Sammy...you and I both know that's a lie. Jazz would have never beat mama in a fight. Mama's too tough. Like us. Jazz is soft. That's why niggas be fuckin' wit' her all the time. I'm glad I came up here with her, sis. She needs me to keep them off of her. Every night at the club some lame dude is tryna holla at her. I hate it. I hate when they even look her way because any one of them could be...just like Rico.

I know that's her type, too. And I know that she misses him. So I don't let NOBODY talk to her. I told security the same thing. Don't let NOBODY get close to her. The last thing we need is for her to get fucked up and...be stuck right back in that dumb shit again. I can't even deal with being around that kind of shit anymore, sis. I lose it. I hope...I never see a woman get fucked up in front of me again. I just wouldn't...handle it very well, Sammy. I know I wouldn't. ESPECIALLY if that woman was Jazz.

But to be honest with you, sis, I miss Houston. A lot. It kind of sucks up here. Real boring. The ocean is nice, but it smells like dead fish half the time. I'm tired, too. Real tired. And stressed. I don't really like being around a lot of people, but up here it's like EVERYBODY wants to be around each other all the time. I mean, if there's a party in Armistead, everybody and their mama's gonna be there. New jazz club in Norfolk? Everybody and their mama's comin'. Which works out good for Jazz's pockets, but it's nerve wracking for me.

I've been stressed for a long time, sis. A REAL long time. Wallace told me before we came up here that now is my time to just be easy, and I think he's right. I can't really move as fast as I used to, anyway. I walk slow now. Real slow. On regular ground. It's even harder to walk on grass and up and down the stairs. It makes me nervous whenever I'm out, because I used to walk so fast. Because I had to BE everywhere fast. Now I have to take my time. If I ever had to get anywhere quick, I couldn't do it. Sometimes it makes me late, and you KNOW I hate that. That used to be my ass if I was late. EVERY time I'm late to anything, I get that feeling. And I hate...that feeling. The feeling of remembering what it felt like to be in the middle of all that chaos. Everyone thought I had it made because we ran shit and I was Rico's son, but that shit was stressful. As hell, sis. For real. It was too much.

Sometimes I look back on our life like...what the hell just happened? But I also look back on it like thank you Jesus. I thank God EVERY day. I get down on my knees and thank Him. Just like mama told me to do, as soon as I could. Just like Jazz does. Just like Wallace does with the girls and mamA. Just like daddy used to do with us. And just like grandma and grandpa used to do. I still remember them, Sammy. Every day we all thank God so much for each other. Just like we always have. I'm like thank you Jesus, every day. EVERY day. Some nights when I get down to pray, I just don't even want to get back up again, because there was a time that I couldn't even get all the way down on my knees in the first place. Now I can get back up by myself and everything.

Tell God that for me next time you see him, ok sis? Tell Him thank you.

From Kenney...

And Jazz.

My roommate's cool. He doesn't even trip that I pray for a long time like that. He prays, too. All the time. He's a good dude. It's hard for me to relate to dudes my own age. Girls I never had a problem with. Except they're too damn silly acting most of the time. But dudes...I was never really around any my own age. Not to hang with, anyway. Not with them being on the same level as me. I was always...over everyone my age that we had on the team. Know what I mean? But Rob is cool. His grandmother raised him, so he kinda old actin' too, like me. We run with this other kid, Marcel. Marcel used to be a gang banger out in Cali. Me and him get along pretty good, too. We can relate to each other on the level of me not asking about his shit, and him not asking me about mine. Neither one of us wants to think or talk about that shit. At all. And Rob is good wit' that. He minds his own business. He never asks either one of us about anything. He's one of those wild types, but he knows how to keep his mouth shut about important things, so I don't mind being around him. He's real quiet most of the time when it's just us, which I like, but he reminds me of Remmey a little bit, so I'm still trying to read him and figure out how much he COULD do if he really wanted to. It makes it hard to sleep when he's awake, since we share a room. But he's never given me any problems so far. I've been keeping him away from Jazz, for now though. Until I figure him out.

Rob got me on stage the other day. The girls still love me, sis. Just like when we were little. He calls himself DramA. The girls fall all over that shit, too. I'ma think up a stage name for myself. I kinda liked being up there. I forgot how much fun we used to have puttin' on shows and dancin' for people. Before the neighborhood got...well...anyway...I forgot how much I like to have fun. It's been a LONG time. Probably since before you left.

I miss you so much, Sammy. Every single day I miss you. My heart hurts. All the time. I miss Angel. But I know you're taking good care of her. Kiss her for me. And smile at her. A lot. Right into her eyes. She likes that. Do that for me, sis. Make my baby feel safe up there. Safer than she was down here.

Jazz is doing good. Real good. You wouldn't know the difference because she was ok before you left. But we went through hell, Sammy. And then came back out on top. God protected us and guided us right back out. I still can't even believe all that we've been through. I just...can't believe it. It's hard to talk about. And it's hard to relate to people. Because there's just too much that I can't say. So I laugh and joke a lot instead. They seem to like that up here, so that's what I do. Give the people what they want. That's the family business, right? I met this girl the other day. She reminds me so much of you. Not enough to be weird, though. I think she's the girl from my dream, Sammy. But I would never tell her that. I don't want to...scare her away. She's kind of nervous acting. Like she's suspicious of everyone. She tries to act hard, but I can read all the way through that. You already know I can read people, sis, and she just...ain't. She ain't hard at ALL. She's wide open, like Jazz. It kind of makes me want to look out for her.

I miss you so, so much Sammy. Charity and mama miss you, too. Mama won't even talk about you. Or daddy. Tell daddy that when you see him. Tell him that we love him, and that mama loves him so much that she won't even talk about him.

Jazz told me and Charity that daddy got mama by singing to her. So maybe I'll try that. With the girl I told you about. One day. Not any time soon. She's hard to get next to. And she's kind of mean. Like Charity. But in this life, that's a good thing. Especially if she's as open as I think she is, so I don't mind.

She gotta keep that heart some kind of way.

Hey Sammy, I play ball now. Isn't that crazy? For a year I was in the hospital bed just wishing I could stand up, and now I can run up and down the court and keep up with everybody else. Basketball's not that hard, but sometimes my back hurts like shit if I play too hard. Especially if it's cold outside. That's when I start walking slow. It gets so damn cold here, Sammy. I'm glad I don't have to watch the corners up here. I would freeze my ass off. Wallace is the one who taught me how to play ball. He taught me a lot of things, like Rico did. And Jazz. And daddy, too, I guess. But up here, whenever I don't know what to do I just...do what I think Wallace would do.

I spend a lot of time with Wallace's grandma and Aunt Jazz. It's kind of nice having a grandma again, Sammy. She's so cute. You would like her. I go out with Rob and Marcel sometimes, too, but that's about it. I don't really like being bothered with a lot of people off the clock, and neither does Jazz. She always says that we have to be careful of the forces that we let into our lives and she's right.

She's SO right.

But this girl, I want her in my life, Sammy. Maybe you can help me out, sis. Look out for me one more time. I would really appreciate it. I love you and I miss you SO much. Jazz opened a nightcluB) And she lives in her own house where she's safe, where nobody will fuck wit' her. I moved on campus, but I go out there to see her every weekend just to check on her and make sure she's still doin' good. Jazz is stable now, and so am I. I'm glad. She deserves it. She's been through a lot and needs something to show for it. Jazz is real independent now, but she still wants me to manage the money. We're pretty much business as usual as far as that goes. But I had to get an accountant to make sure we do her money right and don't have the Feds come asking us shit. That's the LAST thing we need. Jazz is a real good businesswoman, so she makes A LOT of money. Of course she does. She helped Rico get to where he was. She just got fucked up in the end, so she still doesn't trust herself all the way not to end up like that again. But she IS back. And she's good. And I'm good. And we're going to make it. I know we are.

Thank God for me, Sammy. Thank Him for Aunt Jazz and for me, and tell Him...just...tell Him that I'm sorry. Tell Tiana that I'm sorry, too. I think about home a lot, but not as much as I used to. My heart gets real heavy when I think about you and daddy, but ESPECIALLY when I think about Angel and TianA. I try to hide it. Especially when I'm around Jazz. But sometimes I can't. Like when Jazz rubs my scar. I hate that shit, sis. Everything, EVERYTHING we used to be is all right here on my face. You can't even barely see it anymore, but Jazz's fingers still go straight to it. Every time she sees me. Every single time. Nobody else would even notice it if she didn't do that, but I guess some wounds are too deep to heal all the way up. They're always there. Maybe not visible to everyone, but plain as day to the people that were hurt the most.

And Jazz was hurt BAD, Sammy. Bad. I...know she still wants to die sometimes. I can see it on her face. And I don't know what else to do about it other than to just not bring shit up. So that's what I do. I don't talk about any of that old stuff around her or anyone else. Even though sometimes it feels like that life might still kill me, and it might still kill Jazz, too. I feel like we're living on borrowed time or something, and we're not really all the way out. Like we shouldn't have gotten out so easy, and like death is still chasing us. But I guess we'll see how it all turns out. Something's gotta go down at some point. I feel like God's not done paying us back yet. I'm just...hoping that it happens to me and not to anybody else. Tell Tiana and the baby that I'm sorry I couldn't protect them like I should have. I'm so, so sorry. For everything. And tell them that I love them. With everything I have. I love you, too, Sammy. With EVERYTHING I have. I know you can still hear me when I talk to you. And I know you still run with me. All the time. Angels run with us. All of us. Obviously. And I won't ever forget that. I won't ever forget who I am, and WHOSE I am again.

Hold it down for me Sammy, and if God will let you, save us a place.

Save me a place.

I love you so much.

With everything I have.

Your little brother,

Kenney Duvalle