“The house is paid for.”
“Nice.”
Jamal admitted he wanted a home one day, maybe a long-termthingsimilar to Santiago and the postman. He could see a mini-Jamal or Jasmine in his future. Santiago smiled while listening, but something else was on his heart that needed addressing.
“Those dreams sound wonderful, but the path you’re on will only lead…”
“…to prison or an early grave, I know. I know.”
Santiago asked Jamal what his plans had been hadn’t he been struck by his truck. Jamal shrugged and mumbledsomething under his breath.
“You know this situation we’re currently in can only end one of two ways.”
Jamal smiled. “You could release me and pretend I was never here.”
Flatly, Santiago replied, “That’s not one of the options.”
“What’re they then?”
“I can drive you to the police station and allow you to turn yourself in peacefully or…”
“I’ll take that one.”
“I’d prefer that one, too.”
Santiago offered Jamal a beer, another meal. He declined both, closing his eyes instead. Santiago wondered if he was praying, but then Jamal spoke.
“Do we have to go right now?”
Santiago shook his head. “But soon.”
“I want to enjoy freedom just a little longer.”
“Is there anything you’d like before…?”
“This is enough, the quiet, this bed. You.”
Santiago stood to allow Jamal some time alone, but Jamal’s last word planted him back in his seat. He had never been enough to anyone, not his mother, siblings, teachers, peers. He was simply another mouth to feed, a mind not sharp enough to excel beyond high school, a body not fit enough to be desired. He lived with being less than until that moment when an escaped convict nearly half his age had said he was enough.
“Thank you.”
Jamal glanced in his direction. “For what?”
Santiago stood. “I gotta take care of something. I’ll be right back, then we can figure this out.”
“Okay.”
Santiago exited and crossed the home to the half-bath on the other side. He closed the door, sat on the toilet, and cried.Afterwards, he washed his face and cleared his throat before returning to Jamal, who had managed to retrieve the remote from a dresser, out of his reach.
“How did you…?”
“You left me unsupervised with a free hand.” He held a finger to his lips and pointed to the TV.
They watched as a young reporter spoke about a standoff situation with one of the fugitives. Excitement displayed on Jamal’s face while a feeling of horror filled Santiago. Gunshots suddenly rang out in the distance, causing the reporter to gasp as she shifted her attention. Jamal turned up the volume; Santiago suggested they switch the television off.
“I wonder if they killed him.”
“Hopefully, not.”
