Taunted boy just told pals, ‘Bye’

Morning came with the usual chaos. The kids struggled into their clothes for another day of school. Downstairs, Masika Bermudez yelled at them to hurry.

To sweeten the order, she reached for a morning favorite, Cocoa Puffs. Her children loved them.

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Jason Getz/jgetz@ajc.com

A.J. Brown, 11, talks about the last day he saw his buddy Jaheem alive. His mother, Alice Brown, tries to comfort him.

HOW WE GOT THE STORY

Staff writer Mark Davis interviewed Jaheem Herrera's friends, A.J. Brown and Peter Vincent, both 11, with the permission of and in the presence of their mothers, Alice Brown and Eschondria Vincent, at the Vincent home. He spoke with Jaheem's mother, Masika Bermudez, by phone from her lawyer's office. The DeKalb County school system has declined to talk about Jaheem, citing a confidentiality policy.

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Down they came that Thursday, April 16 — 10-year-old Yeiralis, slender as a flower; Ny’irah, 7, a smaller version of big sis; and Nyitsa, a 5-year-old dynamo.

Jaheem, 11, was wearing his usual white T-shirt and jeans — and scowling. He flopped on the living room couch.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “I don’t want to go to that school.”

That school.

He’d complained before that kids at Dunaire Elementary in Stone Mountain bullied him. Now that the family had moved to Avondale Estates, Bermudez hoped her kids might attend a different DeKalb County school next year.

But that issue didn’t need immediate satisfaction. An empty stomach did. “Eat,” Bermudez told her sullen son.

Moments later, her boyfriend, Norman Keene, hustled the youngsters out of their modest two-bedroom apartment for the seven-mile drive to Dunaire. Jaheem, still sulking, stalked out.

Slam! The door rattled in its frame.

“Jaheem!” Bermudez yelled. “Why do you close the door like that?”

On the last day of his life, Jaheem Herrera didn’t reply.

Three Musketeers

Dunaire Elementary on South Indian Creek Drive is the epitome of a suburban school: low-slung, brick, partly shielded by old trees fronting a road built for far less traffic. Weekdays, the school is an ocean of activity, with 650 children roaring in like the tide. A.J. Brown and Peter Vincent, both 11 and in the fifth grade, found Jaheem in the morning tumult.

They were friends bound by the things boys love. On carpets and in front yards, they mimicked the antics of Rey Mysterio, Triple H and the Undertaker, some of professional wrestling’s strongest lights. Weekends, they played video games or rode bikes in the racially diverse cul-de-sacs near Dunaire.

They were a scuffed, T-shirt-wearing version of the Three Musketeers. “If someone picked on me,” said Peter, “Jaheem would stand up for me.”

They stood up for him, too. Because Jaheem was slender and spoke with the lilt of the Caribbean islands, his friends said, he was taunted — “gay,” the bullies called him.

But none of that happened on April 16 — at least, not in the morning. Lunch was different.

The three gathered at a long table in the cafeteria, as they always did. Released from the rigors of learning for a half-hour, the kids giggled and whispered. Jaheem got up to go to the bathroom.

As he walked toward the restroom, said A.J., a boy motioned at Jaheem, who paused. The other boy said something, but neither friend could hear the exchange. Moments later, Jaheem returned to his seat at the table. Three boys stood over him.

Trying to ignore the trio, Jaheem turned to his friends. Would they like to see a movie this weekend? he asked.

One of the standing boys sneered. “Man,” he said, “that’s gay.”

Jaheem, his eyes wide with a question, turned to his buddies. “Would you miss me if I was gone?”

Lunch ended, and the boys headed to computer math. Jaheem, who could chatter like a bird, was quiet. When the teacher ordered everyone to their seats, said the two friends, every kid except Jaheem sat. He remained standing near a classroom wall, one sapling on the edge of a field.

The teacher repeated her order: Sit down. Jaheem didn’t move. She ushered him into the hall for a private talk, the boys said.

When the two returned, said A.J., Jaheem still stood, but eventually sat. Peter, rapt in a computer game, didn’t notice.

The class resumed, and the rest of the day passed without incident.

The tide that roared in that morning reversed in the afternoon, children spilling in all directions. Jaheem walked toward the car where Keene, his mother’s boyfriend, waited.

Jaheem caught A.J.’s and Peter’s attention. “Bye,” he told them.

Thus did their best friend pass out of their lives.

‘So cold’

Normally, Jaheem played in the backyard of the family’s apartment complex after school. He did back flips, which scared his mom. But not on this Thursday. He stormed into the apartment, as cranky as he’d been that morning.

“What’s wrong with you?” Bermudez asked.

Jaheem’s sister, Yeiralis, who’d witnessed the lunchtime insults, filled in her mom. That just made her brother angrier.

“Oooooh!” Jaheem screamed.

Bermudez turned to her son. “Go upstairs!” Some TV, she thought, would help her son cool down.

Jaheem trudged up the stairs. Bermudez heard him close his bedroom door.

She didn’t hear the lock click.

She didn’t hear the closet door open.

She didn’t hear the flick of the closet light when her son snapped it on.

She didn’t hear Jaheem fashion a loop from one end of a cloth belt and slide it over his head.

Later, Yeiralis walked upstairs to tell her brother it was time to eat. “Jaheem,” she yelled, “unlock the door!”

Jaheem didn’t answer.

By the time she cradled the boy, said Bermudez, “He was so cold, so cold.”

Dreams, fears

The mother is taking her son to the land of his birth, the U.S. Virgin Islands, to bury him. The family is raising money for the flight and expenses.

They want to know: Was Jaheem bullied on the day of his death, as his sister said? Did a boy’s accusation that Jaheem was gay trigger his fatal decision? Bermudez has hired a lawyer to help her ask those questions. She believes her son could not take the bullying anymore.

Others are wondering about that day, too — DeKalb District Attorney Gwendolyn Keyes Fleming, for one. She’s not opened a formal investigation into purported incidents of bullying at the school, but wants to know more about what happened at Dunaire that may have prompted the child to take his life.

DeKalb County school officials have consistently said they cannot comment on individual students’ records. The school system is reviewing how schools deal with bullying and how staff is trained to handle it, according to its spokesman.

Jaheem’s two best friends are hurting. The musketeers are no more.

“I’m dead inside,” said Peter, “but I don’t want to show it.”

A.J. dreamed about Jaheem. In his dream, he was playing at home when he answered a knock at the door. Jaheem, smiling Jaheem, stood there.

“Jaheem! Is it really you?”

The dream Jaheem nodded, then replied: “Something went wrong.”