Bluford Series 8: Blood Is Thicker by Paul Langan

Author:Paul Langan [Langan, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Urban Life, Teen & Young Adult, Genre Fiction, Social & Family Issues, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B0051AC0PM
Publisher: Townsend Press
Published: 2011-05-16T04:00:00+00:00

At 9:00, Hakeem awoke dreading the day ahead of him. He was tired. It was as if he hadn’t slept at all. He could not imagine what he would say to Uncle James today. To Savon.

In the daylight, the events of the previous night seemed cloudy and dream-like. Maybe he had dreamed that Savon was sneaking around in the dark or that Darcy’s grandmother was sick. But he knew he was fooling himself. He had learned when Dad fell ill that good things in life usually turned out to be fake, like Santa Claus. But unpleasant things, like cancer, were almost always too real.

At least I don’t have to work, Hakeem thought. It was the morning Uncle James had given him off so he could talk to Savon. That idea seemed like a joke now. If what he saw last night was true, Hakeem knew he should talk to Uncle James, not Savon. Still, what if what he had seen was somehow innocent? There was no way to know for sure unless he had proof.

As Hakeem debated what to do, Savon snorted, rubbed his face, and got up. Without a word, he yawned and headed to the bathroom.

Alone in the room, Hakeem glanced at Savon’s desk. The night before, he remembered his cousin had put something in the top drawer before he went to sleep. Eyeing the desk, he wondered what it was.

Hakeem listened. He could hear water running in the bathroom. Savon was probably brushing his teeth. That meant he still had a few minutes before he returned.

Jumping out of bed, Hakeem rushed to the desk and opened the top drawer. It was filled with CD’s, a few silver chains, an old watch, some pens, and several notebooks. Running his hands into the back of the drawer, he felt a curious bundle of papers wrapped in rubber bands. He grabbed the bundle and looked. It was a folded wad of cash an inch thick.

Hakeem’s eyes widened in surprise. Savon was the robber.

Through the walls, he heard the abrupt clunk of the pipes, signaling that the water had been turned off. Savon would be back in seconds. He shoved the money back and closed the drawer. He had to face Savon. Now.

Hakeem heard footsteps coming up the hall. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

“Savon, we need to talk,” he said as soon as his cousin entered.

“Huh?”

“I saw you come in the window last night,” Hakeem said,

“Man, get outta my face,” Savon said, rolling his eyes. “You trippin’.”

“I know what you are up to—”

“You don’t know jack about me!” Savon roared, the veins in his neck bulging.

“I saw you put the money in your desk. I know—”

“What do you know?” Savon challenged, stepping closer to Hakeem.

“I know enough to see that you are headed for trouble.”

“Why? ’Cause I don’t come home early? ’Cause I won’t spend another summer working at the store with my Dad? Or is it ’cause I ain’t Mr. Perfect like you, cuz?” Savon stretched the last word out as if it was a curse.

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