the Other Wes Moore (2010) Read Online Free Page A

with ridiculous questions, and basically told him to fend for himself. Now, my mother had to plan his funeral.
    He died on a Friday night. We were told at first that the hospital wouldn't be able to determine the cause of death until Monday, when they would perform the autopsy. But my father's radio station wanted to issue a news release about his death, so it leaned on the morgue to perform the autopsy sooner. The morgue acquiesced, and by Saturday afternoon we found out that he had died from acute epiglottitis, a rare but treatable virus that causes the epiglottis to swell and cover the air passages to the lungs. Untreated because of the earlier misdiagnosis, my father's body suffocated itself.
    Nikki took his death worse than the rest of us. Not just because she was the only one old enough to really understand what was going on but because her biological father, Bill, changed abruptly after my father died. While my dad was alive, Bill supported Nikki financially and took the time to see her. After my father died, Bill no longer called, wrote, or bothered to check up on her. My father's love of Nikki had forced Bill to step up to his parenting responsibilities--it was almost as if Bill cared more because another man did. With my father no longer in the picture, the pressure was off. It was as if my sister lost two fathers that day.
    While I knew something bad had happened, I still wasn't sure what it meant. All weekend, people came in waves to our home. The phone rang nonstop. I saw the hurt on people's faces but didn't fully understand it. I was still in the wind tunnel. I heard that my father had "passed on" but had no idea where he'd gone. At the funeral, my uncle Vin escorted us to the mahogany casket in the front of the church to have our final viewing of the body. The celebration of my father's life took place at the Fourteenth Street Baptist Church, the same church my parents had been married in six years earlier. We stood in front of my father's body for the final time. He lay in the casket with his eyes closed. It was the first time I had seen him in days. He looked more serene than he appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at peace. I was holding my uncle Vin's hand when I looked into the casket and asked my father, "Daddy, are you going to come with us?"

    Wes, get up here and get your backpack together. You're going over to your grandmother's house." Mary Moore's raspy voice echoed through the house. Wes was in the living room watching television with the volume turned almost all the way up. Speed Racer was almost over. Packing his backpack could wait.
    "You hear me talking to you?"
    Wes reluctantly got up from the red plaid couch and turned off the television, but the truth was that he liked going over to his grandmother's house. He had never met his father, at least not that he remembered. But his father's mother spoiled him. She also had a rabbit living under the kitchen sink that he always played with when he visited.
    He climbed the stairs and caught the scent of his mother's perfume before he even hit her doorway. He saw her sitting on the bed with her back to him. She was wearing the white dress he liked. Clearly, she was going out tonight.
    Wes asked her what he should bring to his grandmother's house, but he was losing the battle with the radio, which was blasting George Benson's "Turn Your Love Around." He reached over and turned the volume down.
    "Ma, what do I need to bring?"
    When she saw Wes standing there, one hand flew to her face to wipe her eyes. The other slid a sheet of paper under her leg. Something was wrong.
    "Ma, you all right?"
    "Yes, Wes," Mary automatically responded. "Just bring some stuff to play with for tonight. Hurry up, go pack your stuff."
    He wanted to ask what was wrong but decided against pressing his mother. He slowly turned around and headed toward his bedroom to pack.
    The letter Mary was hiding explained that the federal budget for Basic Educational Opportunity