The Last Chance

The alarm screamed at 7:45 a.m.

Marcus Reid’s hand shot from beneath the blanket and slammed down on his phone

Silence.

For a few seconds, he stayed exactly where he was. Music played somewhere beyondhis bedroom door, low enough that he couldn’t make out the words but loud enoughfor the bass to travel through the walls. From the kitchen came the clatter of pans andthe smell of bacon

His mother was already up. Of course she was.

Marcus reached for his phone and squinted at the screen.

7:45.

“Damn.”

He dropped it onto the mattress. Waking up wasn’t the hard part. Getting up was.

Marcus pushed the blanket aside and slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed.His feet touched the cold floor as he sat there, elbows resting on his knees, his headhanging low.

Morning sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting thin lines across his bare back. Along surgical scar ran down his spine. The skin around it had healed, but the damagebeneath it was something Marcus lived with every day

He stared at the floor.

And for a brief moment, his mind wandered somewhere else

The crowd was roaring. Forty thousand people on their feet.

Marcus Reid sprinted down the sideline, his cleats digging into the turf.

“REID’S GOT A STEP!”

The quarterback launched the football. Marcus looked over his shoulder. The balldropped perfectly into his hands

Thirty yards. Twenty. Ten.

TOUCHDOWN!

The stadium erupted. Marcus threw his arms into the air as his teammates rushedtoward him. Cameras flashed. Fans screamed his name.

“MARCUS! MARCUS! MARCUS!”

A cabinet slammed shut in the kitchen.

Marcus blinked. The stadium disappeared.

He was back in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. Alone. The cheering wasgone. Only the music from the kitchen remained.

Marcus lowered his head and exhaled. Then he reached toward his nightstand, pulledopen the drawer, and grabbed a small bottle of pain medication. He shook two pillsinto his palm, picked up the half empty bottle of water beside his bed, and swallowedthem.

He sat there another moment, waiting for the sharp ache in his back to settle. Somemornings were better than others. This wasn’t one of them.

There had been a time when pain meant something to Marcus. Pain meant anotherworkout, another practice, another Saturday, another step toward the life everybodytold him was waiting for him.

Now pain was just pain.

Football was over.

At least that was what Marcus had convinced himself.

He finally stood, reached for a T-shirt, and carefully pulled it over his head. He slid hisfeet into his slippers and walked into the hallway.

He stopped at the next bedroom and opened the door. A pile of blankets covered mostof the bed.

“Jaylen.”

Nothing.

“Jay.”

The blankets moved. Marcus leaned against the doorway.

“Come on, bro. Get up. You got school.”

A muffled groan came from underneath the covers. Marcus shook his head.

“I’m not coming back in here.”

No response.

“Aight.”

Marcus walked away knowing damn well he was probably going to have to come back.

The smell from the kitchen got stronger. His mother stood over the stove.

“Morning, Ma.”

Denise glanced over her shoulder. “Good morning, baby.”

Marcus reached straight toward the plate beside her and stole a piece of bacon.Denise slapped at his hand with the spatula.

“Boy, if you don’t get out my food”

Marcus laughed, already taking a bite. “You made it for us.”

“I made breakfast. That don’t mean come in here putting your hands all overeverything.”

“It’s good, though.”

“It better be.”

Marcus smiled. For a moment, everything felt normal. Just him and his mother jokingin the kitchen.

No football. No injury. No streets.

Just home.

Denise looked toward the hallway. “Jaylen up?”

“Supposed to be.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you.”

Marcus laughed. “I woke him up.”

“And?”

“And he seventeen. I’m not carrying him out the bed.”

“You better make sure that boy gets to school on time.”

“I got him.”

Denise turned back toward the stove. “And Marcus?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure he actually goes inside that building.”

Marcus smirked. “I said I got him, Ma.”

Footsteps came from behind them. Malik walked into the kitchen already dressed toleave.

“Aight, Ma. I’m about to head out.”

Denise looked over. “This early?”

“Yeah. Gotta get to work.”

Marcus looked at him. Malik looked back. Only for a second.

Nothing needed to be said.

Marcus knew where his brother was going. And it wasn’t work.

“Aight, y’all.”

Malik headed toward the door.

“Be safe,” Denise called after him.

“Always.”

The door closed.

Marcus took another bite of bacon. He didn’t say anything. Neither did his mother.

A minute later, Jaylen finally appeared in the hallway, dragging his feet with one handrubbing through his hair. His eyes were barely open.

“Man...”

Marcus looked over. “Look who decided to join us.”

Jaylen dropped into a chair. “I don’t feel like going to fucking school today.”

“Watch your mouth,” Denise snapped without even turning around.

Jaylen lowered his voice. “I don’t feel like going.”

Marcus leaned against the counter. “You going.”

“For what?”

“For what?”

Jaylen shrugged. “School boring as hell.”

Marcus stared at him. “You got talent, bro. You keep your grades right, handle yourbusiness, you can go D1.”

Jaylen looked up at him. “Like you?”

The words hit harder than Jaylen meant them to. Marcus’s face didn’t change.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Like me.”

Jaylen looked away. Marcus tapped him on the back of the head.

“So get dressed.”

“Man...”

“Get dressed.”

Jaylen pushed himself out of the chair. Marcus watched him disappear down thehallway.

He didn’t know exactly what his little brother saw when he looked at him. He onlyknew he didn’t want Jaylen following the wrong parts

By the time Marcus and Jaylen stepped outside, the neighborhood was already awake.

Their house sat among rows of aging Chicago homes packed close together, porchesfacing cracked sidewalks and narrow streets. Cars lined both sides of the block. Musiccame from somewhere nearby. Somebody was arguing two houses down. A dogbarked behind a fence.

Marcus had known this block his entire life, and the block knew him.

Malik was still outside.

So much for work.

He stood near the curb talking to a couple guys Marcus recognized. Marcus didn’tquestion him. He just gave them a nod as he passed.

One reached out. “What’s up, Marcus?”

Marcus dapped him up. “Chillin’. Taking this little dude to school.”

Jaylen shook his head. “Stop calling me little.”

“You my little brother.”

“I ain’t little.”

“You little to me.”

They kept walking.

The mail carrier was making her way toward the next house when she spotted them.

“Morning, Marcus.”

“How you doing?”

“I’m good. Jaylen, stay out of trouble.”

Jaylen smiled. “I don’t get in trouble.”

She laughed. “That’s what all of y’all say.”

A few older people were already sitting on their porches. Marcus spoke as he passed.

“Morning, Miss Carol.”

“How you doing, baby?”

“I’m good.”

Marcus wasn’t famous here. He didn’t have to be.

He was a Reid.

People remembered him running through these streets as a kid. They remembered thefootball games. They remembered the newspaper stories. They remembered when

everybody thought Marcus Reid was going to be the one who made it out.

Marcus kept walking. He didn’t think about that anymore.

At least he tried not to.

They were a few blocks from the school when Marcus noticed three young menstanding ahead. He recognized one. Then another.

His pace slowed.

Jaylen noticed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Marcus looked across the street. The men had seen him too. Nobody moved. Nobodysaid anything.

That almost made it worse.

Jaylen glanced toward them. “Ain’t that”

“Come on.”

“What?”

“We going this way.”

“School’s that way.”

“I know where your school at.”

Marcus turned down the next street. Jaylen followed.

“Why we going around?”

“Because I said so.”

Jaylen looked back. Marcus grabbed his shoulder.

“Stop looking.”

Jaylen faced forward.

Marcus wasn’t scared. But there was a difference between being scared and beingstupid. Especially with his little brother beside him.

They continued down the block. A car rolled slowly behind them. Marcus heard itbefore he looked.

Then he saw the lights.

Blue. Red.

“Man...”

The police cruiser pulled toward the curb. Two officers stepped out.

“Stop right there.”

Marcus stopped. Jaylen did too.

One officer approached them. “Where you boys headed?”

“Taking my brother to school.”

The officer looked at Jaylen. “What school?”

Jaylen answered.

The second officer moved closer. “What gang you in?”

Marcus frowned. “I ain’t in no gang.”

“What set?”

“I just told you. I ain’t in no gang.”

“Hands where I can see them.”

Marcus slowly raised his hands. Jaylen stared at him.

“Yo, he seventeen,” Marcus said.

“Didn’t ask you his age.”

The officer grabbed Marcus and turned him toward the cruiser.

“Man, I ain’t do nothing.”

“Spread your legs.”

Marcus clenched his jaw as hands ran across his pockets, his waist, and down his legs.

Nothing.

Behind him, the other officer started patting down Jaylen. Marcus turned his head.

“Yo, don’t put your hands on him like that.”

“Face forward.”

“That’s my little brother.”

“I said face forward.”

The officer shoved Marcus harder against the car. His back struck the edge of thecruiser.

A violent jolt of pain shot through his spine.

Marcus gasped.

And suddenly—

Stadium lights.

The roar of a crowd.

Marcus was running across the middle of the football field. His quarterback releasedthe ball.

Marcus turned. He reached out.

Then—

An impact.

Hard.

Something twisted. His body hit the turf. The crowd’s roar dissolved into a strange,distant ringing.

Marcus tried to move. Nothing felt right.

“DON’T MOVE HIM!”

Someone was kneeling beside him. Another voice shouted for the medical staff.

Marcus stared up at the stadium lights. Faces appeared above him, then disappeared.

Red lights flashed.

An ambulance door slammed.

“Marcus, can you hear me?”

Bright hospital lights rushed past overhead. Wheels rattled against the floor.

“We need to get him into surgery.”

Someone placed a mask over his face. Marcus tried to speak.

The lights blurred.

Then everything went black.

“HEY!”

Marcus jerked back to reality.

Chicago. The police cruiser. The officer’s hand pressing against his back.

“Keep your head forward.”

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

The pain was real. The scar was real.

And the football field was gone.

“Nothing,” the officer behind him said.

The other officer stepped away from Jaylen. Marcus slowly turned around.

“So we good?

The officer stared at him. “Stay out of trouble kid.”

Marcus almost laughed. Instead, he grabbed Jaylen by the shoulder.

“Come on.”

They walked away. Neither spoke for half a block.

Then Jaylen looked over. “You good?”

Marcus kept his eyes ahead. “I’m straight.”

“Your back?”

“I said I’m straight.”

Jaylen went quiet.

Marcus immediately regretted snapping at him. A few seconds later, he put his armaround his little brother’s shoulders.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you to school.”

Marcus walked Jaylen all the way to the entrance.

Not to the corner. Not across the street.

To the door.

Jaylen stopped before going inside. “Aight, bro.”

“Handle your business.”

“I will.”

“And don’t have nobody calling Ma.”

Jaylen grinned. “No promises.”

Marcus pointed at him. “I’m serious.”

“Aight, aight.”

Jaylen pulled open the door.

“Jay.”

He turned around. Marcus looked at him.

“Grades, bro.”

Jaylen nodded. “I got you.”

Marcus watched until the door closed behind him. He stayed there for another fewseconds.

Then he checked the time.

Now he had somewhere else to be.

Work.

Marcus turned away from the school and started toward the bus stop.

The warehouse wasn’t where he imagined he’d be at twenty-four. Then again, almostnothing about his life looked the way he had imagined it.

Not anymore.

Another pulse of pain moved through his back.

Marcus kept walking.

Football was behind him.

The streets were around him.

And as far as Marcus Reid knew, there wasn’t a second chance coming.