My cousin, Loquacious “Lolo” Jackson, had borrowed my baseball glove. I am not sure exactly when, but Barack Obama was still president then. My son and I have never had a catch. It is entirely possible, given my current level of physical fitness, that when I wind up to throw, my right arm snaps off my body and soars farther than the ball; but tossing a baseball with your son for a father is akin to a trout swimming upstream to spawn. My soul demands I get it done.

Lolo directed me to his garage where I was able to retrieve my mitt along with several of my tools and a leaf blower I thought had been stolen. While poking around for other possessions that might require liberation from this larcenous family member, I came across a duffel bag that contained his passport, $20,000 cash and a loaded .45 automatic. I could not contain myself when he came out to the garage:

Lo? Did you finally get sucked into the drug game? If you need money, you go to your family. Tell me you are a secret agent or going to visit our cousins on the south side of Chicago in Englewood or something.

“That’s my ‘getaway bag.’ When they come to wipe us all out, me and my family will grab that bag and break out. Remember Ukraine? While you’re standing in line waiting for the bank to open I will be in Winnipeg, trying to enjoy watching hockey.”

That’s the most cowardly thing I have ever heard. We are woven throughout American society. Our government would never harm us. We have rights.

“Your lefty friends have drowned your sense in all that patronizing white guilt. I watched a smuggler on HBO bragging about helping our government bring thousands of kilos of drugs into the U.S. in the 1980’s. They portray him as a swashbuckling patriot fighting communists. They glorify this man who is dipped in the blood of more Black people than J. Edgar Hoover.”

It is a remarkable story. The guy survived 11 plane crashes. Eventually he got caught and sent to prison. Hoover ran an entire army. He is a VIP of Satan himself with a private suite in hell. Communist regimes in our backyard are bad. Right? Monroe Doctrine?

“Fool. This man admitted to doing at least 50 smuggling runs for a drug lord with 500 kilos in each load … well over 1,000 pounds, 16 ounces per pound, 28 grams per ounce and $100 a gram dispersed all over America. You really believe wealthy white men didn’t pocket most of that money? You cannot afford to be this stupid.”

That cash could have bought the political influence that got those laws passed that locked so many of us up. The war on drugs was a war on us. If I had my senior yearbook, I could probably cross out a third of my male classmates who ended up dead or in prison after high school. Almost all of them … were Black.

“Remember Operation Crackshot when the FBI and DEA swept through Peoria? There was a full page in the newspaper with photos of at least 70 convicted drug dealers. Each one of them had a familiar face and a family name I knew from school, church, Carver Center, Proctor Center or TNBA bowling. Some were career criminals, but most had proud, hard-working parents. Many of them went broke buying false hope from crooked lawyers.”

I lived through it just like you. I graduated in 1985. Drugs exploded right after that along with all that violence and death. People make choices. I refuse to take personal accountability off the table. I packed a gun and ran with dudes who were trapping every day like it was beaver season in the Yukon, but I didn’t get addicted or join a gang because I chose not to. Sure, I was afraid, but the streets are always watching if you get in the game. Death is always around the corner.

“Our government was directly involved in turning Peoria into the killing fields that decimated the lives of an entire generation. It was an American genocide against Black people. We haven’t even discussed the friends, family and neighbors enslaved by that pipe, reduced to denizens of a living breathing hell they were unable to escape. Gary Betzner helped the CIA ruin countless Black families while Tipper Gore blamed it on Ice Cube and Dr. Dre. Now he gets to smile and brag about it on HBO? I am losing my mind!”

I get it. That duffel bag though? I love this country and I will not apologize for being proud of it. I will never run away. I see the nonsense about Critical Race Theory. Call me a fool but I am aware that the hatred that has people brawling with school boards is naked racism and white supremacy. The same political party that addicted, imprisoned, and killed an entire generation of Black people has now postured itself as the protectors of the flower of White youth. They are winning some battles, but I still believe justice will win the war for the soul of America. That is all that keeps me going most days.

Lolo took a long look at me. I saw a loving concern in his eyes that reminded me of my grandmother. I miss her and wish for her wisdom and Seven Up cake every day.

“X, there are 26 QAnon candidates on the ballot for the midterms. Republicans still refuse to believe Joe Biden is a legitimate president. White people are buying guns and learning to kill in unprecedented numbers. Scarcity is the mother of aggression and violence. Our fellow citizens are poised to turn on all non-whites. Our very existence is the eternal foe of white supremacy. The American genocide of the 1980’s is just one of many American genocides perpetrated against Blacks and other non-whites. Most Whites are not supremacists, but they will never sacrifice their comfort and security for us. American genocide is ongoing, and the worst is yet to come … they have to finish murdering our humanity before they eventually start murdering us. This is what they have always done.”

They don’t believe slavery was wrong, do they? This is really what we are now.

“In those it chooses to despise, American genocide kills … hope.”

Suddenly, I found myself wondering how long before the bank opened.