2020-05-19 - Building Responsibility - Arthur, Quentin, Tony, Kagiso

Arthur VanBuren sat at his desk going through his list of Summer School candidates and Honor Roll possibilities.  Covid-19 had affected the school.  Seamus Reinhardt had fallen ill, but to his credit had made the work up.  He would graduate mid-June, no problem.  But it wasn’t all good news, he thought as he put away all but one file.  It was time for the late year conferences and he had the most challenging in a few minutes.  Tony Penhall had never been at the top of the class, but he was good enough to remain under Van Buren's radar … until after their return to the world.  With his singing now becoming ‘a thing’, his grades were suffering.  And Van Buren had to reach out to the family for help.  Rolling his shoulders, he stood and walked to his office door, opening it and saying.  “Mr, Tyrell.  Tony?  Come on in.”

Tony Penhall sat moping.  This meeting was totally bogus.  He’d already told his father that he was going to be a rockstar like Aqoustic Spirit, who he could relate to, since Kagiso never knew his mother and Tony barely remembered his.  He didn’t need to go to school.  Drake hadn’t.  But his father has argued back that Drake also went BACK to school.  But Tony would be smarter than that.  He’d have the money, so he wouldn't need the education.  Never mind Drake.  And India Tor, too.  Aqoustic Spirit hadn’t finished High School and he was a multi-millionaire!  Of course, when he pointed that out, his father got a funny look on his face, which made Tony nervous.

Quentin looked both stressed and irritated. He was in his usual working coveralls fro the power plant. They had been called in to the principal’s office. Tony’s success as a musician made him proud but it would not be at the cost of the boy’s grades. Tony had to learn some responsibility. If he couldn’t balance the music, the music would have to take a back burner. Quentin greeted the principal with respect “Mr. VanBuren.” He reached out a hand to shake before sitting down and shooting a dangerous look at his son.

Arthur shakes, then nods them in and motions to the two chairs in front of his desk before he sits at his own.  “Thank you for coming, Mr.  Tyrell.  I’m sorry to have pulled you out of work, but I’m afraid that Tony’s grades have slipped to alarming levels.  Especially in French and ELA.”

Tony comes in, watches the two men shake hands while he sits in his chair.  “Who needs French, anyway?”  he argues, right out of the box.  “And I speak English already.”

Quentin sank further into his seat when Mr. VanBuren talked about the grades and he slumped when the man mentioned in which subjects. He rounds on Tony when he disses French “Who needs French? We live in a bilingual country Tony. do you know how many careers and doors will open for you if you can speak both languages?” And then he says even more annoyed “And I coulda helped you with French. Why didn't you ask me?” It was probably the only subject he felt he could help the kid with and here he was just flittering away.

Arthur let father and son discuss while he waited it out.  Often this news was a revelation to the parents.

Tony starts to shrug.  “I already know what I’m going to do, Dad and I don’t need French to sing.”  and then his father asks why he didn’t come to him for help with French and Tony’s eyes grow wide.  Jaw slack he started a while before saying.  “Um … I … kinda … forgot you spoke French?”  it was the statement/question of the child who has made an obvious mistake.

Quentin looks apologetically at the headmaster for a moment and then answers Tony in French. “Je parle Francais, Anglais et Yoruba. Vous devez apprendre plus de respect pour votre patrimoine.” (I speak French, English and Yoruba. You need to learn more respect for your heritage.) Then he eyes Tony and puts him on the spot “What did I say?”

Arthur doesn’t bother to suppress his grin.  He folds his hands on his desk blotter and waits.  Moving his eyes between the son and his father, he is actually impressed with Quentin Tyrell.  He had not known the father spoke so many languages.

Tony continues to gape and the gears in his head can almost be heard.  “Um ….  I speak French English and Yourba.  Um …  You …. Respect …. Fathers?”  He looks extremely hopeful.  “I mean, Dad,”  he switches to Yoruba.  “Mo n sọ ede Yoruba dara julọ (I speak Yoruba best) …  I mean … That’s my heritage.”

Quentin looks ready to stay fierce in his stance and then Tony answers in Yoruba and he gets a little misty eyed. He reaches over and  squeezes Tony’s shoulder “Bless you...but you’re still gonna need to pass French and ELA.” He turns to Mr VanBuren now “What do we need to do to fix this Mr. VanBuren?”

Arthur grins a bit at Quentin, while giving Tony points for trying ith the Yourba.  He looks between them.  “Well, if you study hard and pass the French test final, then that will bring your grade up to passing.”  he tells them.  “However, Mrs mercier wants you to read two books and report on them.  If you can do that before finals are over … but if not you can just do it over the summer.”  he picks up a small piece of paper and hands it to Quentin.  The two books are Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain and Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.

Tony tenses.  “Fine.”  he blows out a breath and looks at his father, still sort of kissing but hoping to get in less trouble.  “Can we talk French at home, then?  It’ll help?”  but then Mr VanBuren goes on.  “TWO BOOKS?  He nearly implodes.  “And … SUMMER SCHOOL?”  he shakes his head  “No can do Mr VanBuren.  I have a lot of recording to do this summer.”

Quentin takes the paper and looks hopeful. It didn’t sound too bad to him. Put in the time and pass the courses. He reads the book titles and nods at Tony “Oui.” with a small smile which falls right off his face and hits the floor at Tony’s reaction. “Tony, school first. You’re 13 years old. THIS…” He makes a little finger swivel with his pointer finger in the air “Is your JOB.” He glances down at the paper again “He’ll study for that test and have these read. We’ll get them from the school library on our way out...or the town library if we have to.”

Arthur nods and stands.  “Thank you, Mr Tyrell.  I look forward to marking Tony down as having passed.”  he offers his hand to shake and sees them out of the office.  Most likely there would be some interesting conversations in their home … he just hoped they would be in French.

Tony Sees his father’s reaction and almost opens his mouth to protest, but decides not to in front of the Headmaster.  Instead he gloomily says “Thank you, Mr VanBuren and leaves with his father to the school library and, finally, the street.  However on the street, he tries to make his point.  “Dad, we’re working on an album.  My FIRST … hopefully it’ll come out in September .. in time for the next school year but ..  I don't have time to read those books.  I’m sorry.”

Quentin’s stare bores into Tony “You will make the time. We’re going to go see Kagiso and make sure that happens. I know you love your music Tony and it’s a gift but God gave you a brain too and I’ll be damned if you don’t use that too. We need to find a balance.”

Tony bites his lips.  Going to Kagiso with his father is usually a lot of fun, but somehow today he’s thinking … maybe not so much.  “Going to see as in you told him we had this meeting already?”  he scoffs.  “K’ll tell you .. he didn’t finish high school and look at him?  He’s successful!”

Quentin looks frustrated with Tony’s continued shots about school “Kagiso wants you to have every chance in life Tony. And yes, we planned this meeting because of the school meeting. You need to check your attitude at the door.” As in no time they were knocking at it.

Kagiso Jackson was expecting them and answered the door immediately.  “Come on in, ya’ll.” he backs up and motions around.  “Sit on down wherever.”  his apartment is a large studio above his recording studio.  The bathroom is enclosed and the rest of it is very open plan.  His kitchen living room and bedroom are all the same room.  But ornate glass doors open out to a patio and a grove of trees that move to the inlet shores.  He grabs himself a cup and heads for his kitchen.  “You need anything, Q?”  he asks.  “How’d it go?”

Tony walks in and looks with awe at Kagiso’s space in awe.  The building had been a restaurant that burned down.  Kagiso had bought the land and had this building custom built.  It had to have cost a lot of money, but Kagiso was famous and rich.  Just like Tony planned to be someday.

Quentin sauntered in still looking a little stressed but smiled at Kagiso “thanks man...no we’re ok. It went well but Tony has a lot of work to do to get his grades back up. He might need a longer schedule on that album.” He watched Tony’s eyes take in Kagiso’s home and inwardly sighed. He had his eye on the fame, the money and the lifestyle. Where had his little boy gone to?

Kagiso sets the cup down and moves back to the kitchen counter where his guests were.  “He need summer school?”  he asks Quentin and then looks at Tony.  “Aint gonna be no albun with bad grades, lil man.”  he tells him.

Tony blinks.  He was sure Kagiso would have his back.  “But I don’t need French and English!”  he protests.  “You didn’t finish school and look at you.”

Now Quentin’s had it. Tony is calling Kagiso out on his education? “Tony, you know who else didn’t finish high school?” He stares down his nostrils at his son “Me. I didn’t finish high school because I made room for you, to care for you. Now I have no regrets about you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.  But don’t you throw away what I couldn’t do because I gave it up for you.” He points at Kagiso “Don’t you come into Kagiso Jackson’s home and disrespect him about not finishing high school. Because if you do that we’re gonna have bigger problems than your recording schedule. You feel me?”

Kagiso was about to say something about his not finishing school when Quentin laid into his son.  He nodded with each sentence and, when Quentin seemed finished, he looked at Tony.  He lifted up an old baseball cap and used it to smack Tony in the head.  “Can you smell yourself?”  he asks, shaking his head in disbelief.  “How you gonna come up in my crib then disrespect your father?  He is what all black men should aspire to be.”  he tosses the hat down.  “And as for me?  I ain’t wake up in a mansion in Atlanta.  There ain’t no kinda word for the kind of lucky I was, boy.  And I can’t do nothing but sing and help other people to sing.  Without that I ain’t nothin.”  he blows out a breath.  “Don’t be thinking just cause you got all these girls on this island chasin ya ass that that mean you somebody.  You need to get an education, Tony.  Cause even if the big labels come knockin, anything can happen.  You could lose your voice.  You can ….”  he pauses a moment.  “Have a scandal that ends your career.  Then what you gonna do?  SIng yo shoulda, coulda, woulda’s on a corner with a used coffee cups askin fo handouts?”  he pokes Tony in the forehead.  “Use yo head, brutha.”

Tony rears back when his father Tells him off.  Once that was done. Tony hadn’t expected Kaiso to do the same.  He blinks and looks at his father, trying to remember if he even knew that his father hadn’t finished high school.  After all, he spoke three languages.  You had to be smart to do that.. When it’s over, he feels like a fool.  “But I don’t know what I want to do but sing.”  he protests.  “And reading is boring.  I’d rather record.”

Kagiso snores.  “You ain’t recording nothin for a while, young blood.”

Tony sighs deeply and looks at his father.  “I’m sorry Dad.  I really am.  I don’t mean to be ungrateful or disrespectful or any of that.”  he blinks.  “You not gonna tall Grandma, are you?”

Quentin beams at Kagiso. He was hoping Kagiso would back him up but this is not just a backup but  a stepping up. He slow nods at all of Kagiso’s points and every now and then throw in a little”Mmhmm…” He sighs at Tony’s reply. Of course he only wanted to record. Recording is the fun part. He smiles at Kagiso’s firm response and then looks at his son with deep love at his apology. He starts chuckling in a low place in his chest, his upper body bouncing with it and then gives Tony a one armed hug “I won’t tell Grandma….not this time.” He gives Kagiso a look of genuine gratitude

Kagiso nods at Quentin.  “I ain’t decide yet.  I ain’t gonna tell your grandma but they India and Lydia….”  The names sound like threats.  “Buni even.”  he snorts.  “And Fiona ain’t a sistah but I think she might kin knock some sense up in yo peasy ass head.”  he then looks at Quentin.  “It ain’t my place, but maybe this boy need a j-o-b.”

Tony sighs in relief at not having to face his grandmother when Kagiso comes back with women who were just as bad, if not worse.  “Fiona?”  he gulps.  He’d had a crush on Fiona when he was just a kid.  And then Kagiso suggests a job and he can’t stop himself from saying “I have a job!  I’m an artist!”

Kagiso reaches for the hat, swats Tony again, and sets it back down.

Quentin smirks at Tony and at the swatting “Then you can write some fancy letters while you study that French and write those book reports little man. And you won’t have to face your Grandma...or..” He notices the one word Tony parroted back to Kagiso “Fiona.”

Kagiso grins.  “Actually that’s not a bad idea.”  he looks at Tony.  “You a Canadian boy expected to speak French, then you need to write a song in French.”  he looks at Quentin.  “If it’s GOOD French, then you can record it.”

Tony flinches at the swat, but listens and sighs.  “But what about MONEY?”  he very nearly whines.  “Do I get my royalties?”

Quentin nods at Kagiso and then looks sternly at his son “Your royalties are going into your college fund. If you want spending cash you’re gonna have to earn it. Maybe there’s some dogs that need walking...grass that needs cutting….doesn’t one of your buddies have a flyer route?”

Kagisn nods at Quentin.  “My man!”  he looks at Tony, waiting to see his reaction.

Tony/s jaw drops.  “Uh ….  Tristan?”  he bites his lip.  “He has to get up early, I think.  What can I do at night?”

Quentin thinks about this one. No early mornings. Tony should be so thankful his Grandparents didn't still live here to challenge that. They were so good about watching him though when he was….then it hits Quentin “Babysitting!” He snaps his fingers in the air. Folks want a night out from their kids.”


Kagiso nods.  “And it can be good money, too.”

Tony blinks.  “Babysitting?”  he thinks about it.  “Isn’t that for girls?”

Quentin nods at Kagiso “People, will pay to get those breaks…” He scoffs a bit at Tony  “For girls? You wanna say that one again in front of Addy?” He teases.

Kagiso scoffs.  “I might pay good money to see you say that in front of Addy.”

Tony winces.  “No … no …”  and then he brightens,  “Maybe she could teach me.  You know ... how to babysit.  I was an angel, of course.  So it must be easy.”

Quentin exchanges a can you believe this kid look with Kagiso and then ruffles Tony’s hair “An angel….yes my boy. We’re gonna call Addy and we’re gonna call Fiona and they’ll sort you out real good to be a babysitter Tony. Real good.”