Resilience, Reflection, and Reclamation

What Did You Do That For

Text on matting of the frame:

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Soon after the loud sounds of bullets ripped through our ears, he asked me, “Why did you do that for?” I was confused. I thought we were brothers, each other’s right-hand man. I couldn’t believe that he asked me why I saved his life. I couldn’t answer him, so I didn’t.

One of the first things I learned from my uncle was that everyone in the streets wants to be known for their unquestionable loyalty. Growing up, all we had was our word and male bond; growing up, the men in my life constantly reminded me that our manhood was only as good as our word. Once we pledged our word on having each other’s back through thick and thin, that was it; there was no going back on your word or your boys. Every day, we woke up ready to show each other that we had each other’s back. It did not matter if shit got real at school or in the streets: we had to be there for each other.

On my way home that night, after I parted ways with him, I stopped at Gumez’s bodega and bought two large votive candles. One was white, and the other was red; they both came with a picture of a Catholic saint on them—Saint Michael for the white one, Saint Anthony for the red. I locked the door to my room, took the candles out of the plastic bag, and set them on the table next to my bed. I walked to the bathroom, wet a Bounty paper towel with cold water, and wiped the candle clean of whatever dust and bad vibes they may have gathered while on the shelf. I lit the candles while reciting a prayer. I got on my knees and conversed with God and the spirit of the dead.

I hoped my prayer would free me from the torment of my thoughts and feeling lost. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I could not shake the discomfort of feeling bothered by my boy's words and his having ignored my act of loyalty. I felt confused, scared, and betrayed. I took a shower, but the water couldn’t bring peace to my mind. I couldn’t stop hearing his words: “Why did you do that for?” Is he getting soft? Is he telling me he wouldn’t do the same for me?” Is this motherfucker serious? I couldn’t get my mind away from these probing thoughts. When I returned to my room, I lay on my bed to ponder the night's events. But, the reflection from the candlelight dancing on the walls and the ceiling caught my eye. I watched the light wave from side to side and wondered if hell awaited me. I could not escape his words, “Why did you do that for?” Yeah, why did I do that for?

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