Booker T: From Prison to Promise: Life Before the Squared Circle Read Online Free PDF Page A

his favorite—Whopped Mouth.
    “Whopped Mouth,” he yelled. “That guy’s got a fuckin’ whopped mouth.”
    And there it was. As hard as I tried to forget that cat, Lash sure would not let me. After that day at the freeway, every time we went to race slot cars and Lash started up the jokes, that cat would come to mind. Even if my brother didn’t say anything but I saw that guy at the shop, that poor cat was at the forefront of my thoughts. It was a terrible association, but once it was there, it was permanent.
    That whole situation changed my perspective of Lash, but I forgave him and let it go. He was still my big brother and hero.
    Lash and I always played together, using our imaginations to transform even rainstorms into opportunities for fun. We ran to the street where the rainwater flowed like a river down the curb to the drain about fifty yards away. We loved to race match-sticks. Lash gave me a burnt match, and I was the mysterious Racer X from the
Speed Racer
cartoon. With his clean match, he was Richard Petty, number forty-three, the NASCAR champ.
    “Ready, set, go!” We put the matches in the water, and our race began. The only real rule was that if your match got stuck on the way, you could tap it with your finger to get it going into the current again.
    To me it was just a fun game, and I don’t remember winning a single one of those races. But to Lash, everything was a serious competition. That was one big difference between us.
    When he raced slot cars at the shop, Lash was a young man possessed. It was all so exciting to him, and it was impossible to get his attention when he was preparing his car for action. It was pretty cool to see these little plastic cars doing forty-five to fifty miles per hour on those big guided tracks filling up the room. All along the edges kids and grown men alike hollered while their cars were in hot pursuit.
    Lash raced in tournaments for hours on the weekends, always imagining himself to be Richard Petty. I wondered why he didn’t go for Willy T. Ribbs, the black NASCAR driver, but the answer was pretty simple: Petty always won.
    Being there made me happy, but I didn’t take that scene as seriously as my brother did. It was enough for me to race my little car on the smaller, less competitive tracks, avoiding Whopped Mouth at all costs.
    When we weren’t at the race track or getting into trouble, we were with the family. At Thanksgiving, Don, Lash, Bonita, and I crammed into the Chevy Malibu for the long haul to Louisiana to see my grandparents. Our holidays together were boisterous. The real show came Christmas Day, when our older siblings, Danny, Carolyn, Gayle, and Billie Jean arrived bearing gifts and showing off their sense of seventies high fashion.
    Gayle pulled up in her Cadillac Eldorado, stepped out like a movie star, and strolled to the front door as if she were on the red carpet for a Hollywood premiere. We oohed and ahhed over her grand entrance.
    Billie Jean could be heard coming a mile away. When I heard her stereo blaring, I ran to the window and watched her slink out of the driver’s seat with a red dress so tight it looked painted on.
    Carolyn, on the other hand, was way more casual with her clothing. She nonchalantly walked in with a green skirt and a nice button-down shirt. She was not fooling anyone, though. A fire burned behind those dark brown eyes.
    Little did I realize how much my siblings’ lifestyles would influence me.

3
STREET EDUCATION
    As I got older, I realized some of my siblings were true rogues of society. By observing them, I made fascinating discoveries about the world around me. One revelation came a month and a half after I turned eleven. I guess Mom saw me, her baby boy, growing into a little man and decided I should get my very first suit in time for Easter Sunday. Since Carolyn was around that weekend, Mom asked her to take me shopping while she prepared for everyone’s arrival.
    Carolyn drove us to the department store. As