All the Right Stuff by Walter Dean Myers

All the Right Stuff by Walter Dean Myers

Author:Walter Dean Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins


Film by Anthony Rock

Directed by Anthony Rock

Photographed by Anthony Rock and Gino Colavita

Thanks to Gary H.

Thanks to Lavinia F. (1996–2011)

The film got a huge round of applause, but I didn’t dig it. We watched the next three films, one of which was a cartoon, and then some school official invited us to the lounge to meet the filmmakers, who were all college students.

“Yo, Anthony, that girl really died?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said.

There were easily a hundred people in the lounge, drinking wine or sodas, and I was ready to split. I told Mom and she said okay and apologized to her sister.

I don’t know if Aunt Caroline was really on to the idea that we were leaving, she was so busy fluttering around Anthony.

“I think it was a very serious film,” Mom said as we got on the uptown D train at West Fourth Street. “I think that any young person thinking about using drugs should see it and see what might happen to them.”

I grunted and stretched my legs out in front of me. The train wasn’t crowded, and we had found seats. I checked my watch and saw that it was only six p.m.

“I wonder where they got the money for the drugs,” I said.

“Weren’t they breaking into that one apartment?” Mom asked.

I nodded. What I was really wondering was if they had gotten any of the money from Anthony. People like him didn’t have to worry about a social contract. They didn’t have to figure out how their lives were going to go, just what paths they wanted to take. There was nothing in the film that said what he thought about either of the two druggies. They didn’t even call each other by name. But for some reason they had let him hang around them and film them shooting up.

“You think that my father shot up like that?” I asked as we walked down the hill to our place. “In alleys and basements and places like that?”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Mom answered. “I really don’t.”

I could dig that, her not wanting to deal with my father’s life. But I had to deal with it. I had to figure out who he was so I could give him a place in my mind.



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