Dr. John Sockalosky liked what he saw when Abdullah Simmons stopped by for his checkup on July 24. The diabetes specialist at St. Paul Children's Hospital had cared for Simmons ever since he started losing weight as an and was found to have the disease that left too much sugar in his blood.

Sockalosky had watched the child grow up, from a frail baby to a 150-pound 5-foot-5 teenager.

"I found Abdullah a very pleasant, nice young man," Sockalosky said. "I was quite encouraged by his growing maturity and the sense of his taking control and responsibility."

When Simmons died five days later from a single gunshot fired into his chest by Minneapolis police, the doctor joined Simmons' family, his school principal and his neighbors in stunned sadness and wonder.

How could such a seemingly good, respectful 15-year-old who played chess, did well in school and hoped some day to open a restaurant get caught up in a violent confrontation with police?

The answer might be as simple - and as universal - as a boy on the cusp of manhood, trying to grow up too fast and find his place in a rough neighborhood.

By most accounts, Simmons was a polite, shy teenager - but a teen who was beginning to rebel, including getting in trouble with police. Some of his friends said he smoked marijuana, and his father said that recently the teen had begun to stay out late at night.

"Eleven o'clock, 12 o'clock, 12:30," said his father, Reginald Jones. "He thought he was a man now."

While he had a loving family and mentors in his doctor and his school principal, Simmons also had started to hang around with more problematic friends. Accounts differ as to whether he was in the car involved in last Sunday's shooting, but Simmons' father acknowledged that his son knew convicted felon Antwan D. Thomas, 27, who was charged Wednesday with attempted murder of a police officer. Thomas is a confirmed gang member with a history of violence who was wanted by authorities for violating probation.

"Man, just being in this neighborhood," his father said. "My good boy got with a bad boy. . . . One day he locked up with some bad boys and got caught up in some things. He just got caught up."

A smiling dancer

Abdullah K. Simmons was born on Aug. 27, 1985, in Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis. His birth mother, Kimberly Simmons, left town when he was about 2 and moved to Colorado. His father took custody along with his wife, Patricia Hampton, whom he had married in 1982.

Simmons grew up in north Minneapolis with an older half-sister and three older half-brothers in a tight-knit family that friends say pretty much kept to themselves. The family moved around various neighborhoods, settling in the Jordan Park area in 1997.

By all accounts, Jones and Hampton were protective parents who went out of their way to keep close tabs on Simmons because of his diabetes. In the past few years, the rebellious side of Simmons appeared to emerge. Law enforcement officials have said he had two disorderly conduct charges and an assault.

But to his grieving father, he was perfect.

One day late last week, Jones and Hampton spread dozens of snapshots on the floor of their home and got out the home movies to show their son through the years.

There were pictures from birthday parties, school, Christmas morning and chess tournaments, including the 1999 competition that earned him a first-place trophy and a plaque signed by Mayor Sharon Sayles Belton and members of the City Council.

"Because of his diabetes, we used to keep him in the house a lot," Hampton said. "He was always in the kitchen with me, learning how to cook. He loved to help make fish dipped in Cajun spices, mixed vegetables and basmati rice with cornbread muffins. His goal was to own his own business and become a chef."

Jones slipped in a video, and a smiling young Abdullah, about 6, shuffled his feet and clapped his hands across the TV screen.

"We used to call that the `Abdullah dance,' " Jones said, his laughter turning to tears. "Just look at him go. To me, he was just a perfect child."

Simmons' doctor, Sockalosky, saw no connection between the young man he treated and the violent way he died.

"There was nothing I'd characterize as aggressive, no edge to his personality," Sockalosky said. "The notion that he was involved in gun violence is totally foreign to my sense of who Abdullah was."

Principal Benjamin Perry has a photo of Simmons and himself on his desk in his office at the Harrison Education Center. The principal had known Simmons since second grade and served as his mentor the last two years.

He said the teenager used to stop by his office regularly to sit and talk. Sometimes they'd share corn dogs in the cafeteria or clean out Perry's garage on weekends. He remembers how happy Simmons seemed the day they posed together for the photograph.

"He had really good attendance, he appeared to like school, and I would call him very astute and highly academic," Perry said. "He had a bright future, and I was shocked, really, because this just didn't fit his profile."

A couple of blocks away from Simmons' home, tears glistened in the eyes of Nail Harris as she recalled "that very sweet child" who used to play with her four sons.

"I don't get it, I just don't get it," Harris said. "He would come around and sit on my porch, and I never heard that boy say a curse word. He was a bright kid, real quiet, and you never saw him running around with a bunch of kids. Every time I think about it, it hurts me more and more."

A few blemishes

Law enforcement officials said Simmons had been cited this year for disorderly conduct and assault. His father said those incidents occurred at school and were minor.

"After the trouble, he'd come home and say: `The dude hit me in the head or spit at me, what was I supposed to do? I had to fight him.' When I investigated, he always justified it. He had a temper, but he certainly was no gun-slinging gangbanger."

Perry, the principal, acknowledged that Harrison school is a temporary setting for kids with behavioral problems. "Just like any other kid, he'd get angry about some things," Perry said. "But generally he was able to get it back together."

Simmons' friends said he smoked marijuana at times. "But sometimes he'd say he thinks it's bad and messing up his head,"

said Calvin Harris, 15, one of Nail's sons. "And he was scared of guns. He'd tell us all: `You shouldn't play with guns.' "

Still, Jones thinks that if it turns out that his son had been in the car with Thomas, he probably was lured with offers of marijuana.

" `Smoke this joint with us, smoke this weed with us, come for a ride with us,' " Jones said. "That was something he was adventuring off into."

Summer changes

According to Jones, Simmons met Thomas' girlfriend about five weeks ago. She and Thomas paid him to baby-sit and cut the grass.

They bought him shoes. Thomas is now charged with multiple felonies stemming from the shootout last Sunday night in which Simmons died.

Jones flashed back to the doctor's visit that Simmons made five days before his death. The doctor had urged the boy to take control over monitoring his diabetes.

He was asking all the appropriate questions and, with all patients, we try to encourage and empower them to take more responsibility," Sockalosky said. "We felt, given his age and maturity and intelligence level, Abdullah was ready to take more control.

"It's devastating and tragic. He had two strikes against him as an African-American male with diabetes, but he had lots of potential, and I think he would have made something of himself, had he had a chance."

Perry said he'll dedicate the next Harrison yearbook to Simmons.

"It's just a sad situation all around for the family, for the school and for the community," he said. "He was loved by all who knew him, and we're going to miss him."

Jones thinks his son took the doctor's advice to take control of his life the wrong way.

"He had a different look when he came home from the hospital this time," he said. "He was like: `I'm a man now.'

"But he was just 15 years old, with a 15-year-old's heart and a 15-year-old's mind."