A FIRE INSIDE

“Twenty stacks”, whispered Khalil as he lay in bed. He could not sleep; his body stuck somewhere between a dream and a nightmare. The resounding events from the bygone evening filled his mind...

The sun waned toward the horizon when he felt those familiar melodic vibrations from his pocket, “Whaddup?” answered Khalil.

“I’m outside playa”, spoke his friend David.

“Aaight I’m coming.” Khalil moved with authority to the door.

“Happy birthday brother”, sang David as he entered the house, “and good evening Ms. Thomas!” Khalil’s mom stood nearby in the kitchen.

“David and Khalil”, began Ms. Thomas, “you both have been through a lot this year. I trust that tonight will be one of celebration, and not trouble.”

“Momma. We aren’t doing anything crazy, we promise.”

“My baby is eighteen years old. I am so proud of you, Khalil.” Khalil let those words color his imagination, then walked over and gave his mom a hug.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, mom.” He glanced at David and gave him a firm nod.

“Yes ma’am”, replied David, “we are going to have plenty of fun tonight, and we will do it legally!” A lot of Khalil’s friends were trouble, but his roots with David went deep. Khalil gratefully looked at his friend. He admired the tremendous self-respect that he carried in his body. But it wasn’t David that Khalil worried about...

“How was treatment?” asked David as they drove down the highway.

Khalil recalled pensively, “It was kinda whack, and it was kinda cool. My counselor was dope.”

“I’m happy that you are down to go to the casino”, chimed David. Khalil felt how deep David respected his boundaries.

“I love you, man. Thank you for hitting me up and dragging me out.” Khalil continued, “but gambling is a whole thing, you know? I know myself, bro. I ain’t trying to drop one thing, and pick up another. You feel me?” Khalil had a resolve in him, and David could feel it as clear as the low hum of the engine...

As they walked into the casino, the smell of burnt tobacco swam through Khalil’s mind. He hadn’t seen people smoke inside for years! The unmistakably dirty-but-clean scent danced with the alluring neon lights. It sparked a flame in his belly and a smile on his face. Khalil’s reservations melted away as they explored the different games and events happening at the casino. Khalil brought one hundred dollars to spend, and it itched to get to work...

As the night pressed on, Khalil reached into his pocket and pulled out the last of his money. A twenty-dollar bill. He took both ends of the bill and ran the width of it back and forth along the edge of a slot machine, and sent it in. Wrapping his long, bony fingers around the machine’s ivory and chrome handle, he pulled it straight down. The metallic clicks of the lever grasped him. The machine sang with sensuality as the digital dials glided around and around the screen. Suddenly, The machine erupted with lights and music. David grabbed Khalil's shoulders from behind, nearly knocking him off the chair. Jackpot. Khalil just smiled and looked at the screen. Though his body was frozen, the fire in his belly grew out of control. “You got it, man!” David screamed.

“What do we do now?” the words barely escaped Khalil's mouth when he saw a tall man in a dark suit walking toward him.

“Hello, my name is Michael. I am the floor manager, and you are one lucky kid!” (Lucky. As Khalil looked back, he wondered if that was the word that triggered him.)

“Yes sir! So I won?”

“That’s what it says! The jackpot is 20,000 dollars.” Tension mounted in Khalil as he started to wonder, “If I won 20,000 dollars from a twenty-dollar bill, how much more could I win with a whole stack of 20s?” As Khalil calculated the different trajectories of the night, a deeper narrative started to bubble over. Though High school was rough, Khalil wanted to go to college. He could be the first in his family to go, but how far could twenty grand take him? Maybe one year? Earlier that year, Khalil’s money-making methodologies earned him a world of trouble. But that night, the money he earned stole the envy of everyone, and he liked it...

“Twenty stacks”, whispered Khalil. He could not sleep; his body stuck somewhere between a dream and a nightmare. He rolled over in his bed and glanced at his phone: 4:13 am. His thoughts raced in opposite directions threatening to split him down the middle. That fire in his belly; now a cold heap of ash. He pulled his body up and got out of bed. He heard David snoring and glanced at him on the couch across the room. Khalil moved stealthily and sat down at his desk. The soft glow from his desk lamp revealed his journal sitting squarely in the middle. His counselor gave him the beloved tool when he finished treatment. Khalil opened it and saw the inscription on the front cover, “Khalil, good luck as you continue to discover the person you truly are.”

“What the hell kind of man am I?” he thought. He opened his journal and wrote the date on a fresh page. His birthday had passed. The pen moved across the blank sheet, making it unmistakably dirty-but-clean. Ink poured out. Khalil poured in, and slowly encountered himself...

He saw that heap of ash inside himself. Khalil took a seat beside it like a campfire and watched the ash lay motionless.

A person quickly appeared, and with authority, took a seat next to Khalil. “What is wrong with you? We had more money than we have ever seen. You are completely untrustworthy and reckless.”

Khalil thought that this person was talking to him, until he saw another walking up with a smile, who took a seat and retorted, “That money wasn’t even ours. Though we gambled it all away, we can go again and make it all back.”

The authoritative one leaned forward in his chair and pointed his finger directly in the face of the other, “Go again? We will end up in a hole that we will never get out of!”

The smiley one stood up, “Get your finger out of my face. There is nothing that we can’t do! And there is nothing that we can’t fix!” As they continued to fight, both figures occasionally glanced at Khalil. Their eyes betrayed their agenda. They were trying to defend Khalil, but the offensive two did not see eye-to-eye. It was like they were speaking different languages, yet for Khalil, they were making all the sense in the world. Their conflict birthed great pain in Khalil, yet he continued to listen. He hesitantly made eye contact with the authoritative one, and Khalil saw that “Author” had tremendous resolve in his eyes. As Khalil continued to listen, he found courage. He was ready to speak to them.

“Thank you for wanting me to succeed. This behavior was irresponsible”, whispered Khalil to Author. Suddenly, he could feel the smiley one begin to jump in to defend their position. As Khalil directed his attention to “Smiley”, he saw in them a fierce hope. “I am grateful that you believe in me, and that you are willing to fight for me." As Khalil said these things, he saw both of their eyes soften. Their body language changed. Author put his finger down, Smiley took a seat, and they both leaned in to see what Khalil was going to do next.

Khalil took a deep breath and gazed out at the heap of ash that sat before them. His body felt sober and intact. He looked at Author and Smiley lovingly, and they looked back in kind. Khalil reached out his hand and felt a whisper of warmth buried under the crumbly grey. Khalil got down on his hands and knees and breathed on the pile of ash. Some ash leaped into the air, and he kept blowing. Author and Smiley glanced at each other, unsure. Though they didn’t completely trust each other, their trust in Khalil was beginning to grow, for he saw them as they are. They got down with him and got to work. As the three blew concertedly on that heap of ash, a dormant ember found life again. They blew together and the flame burned bright. Sitting back, all three stopped and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. Khalil glanced up at them, giving a firm nod...

Khalil signed the bottom of the page, closed the journal, and got back into bed. His birthday was over, and a new day had come. He closed his eyes and rested in the warmth of a fire inside.