Lessons Learned

by Earl Sewell

  “Oh, I don’t believe this.” I said as I sat down on a step. I sat the plastic bag of money down by my side and placed my face in my hands. “You drove Jordan’s Trans Am all the way down here to impress her!”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, Keysha.” Mike explained. “She promised to take my—to take my virginity away if I drove the car down here to see her.”

  “You did all of this over her stanky booty?” I couldn’t believe that Mike was so blinded. “Mike, I told you that Toya was a snake! I told you that her boyfriend was into stealing cars!”

  “I don’t remember you saying that,” Mike said.

  “The first day you met her I said that. But you were too busy gawking at her jiggling booty and jiggling breasts.”

  “Do you think they’ll bring the car back?” he asked.

  “Boy. That car and Toya are gone. She’s not coming back anytime soon. Once they sell that car, they’re going to get a lot of money and they’re going to disappear for a little while. That’s how Toya gets down,” I said.

  “What about her baby? And school? And her grandmother?” Mike asked.

  “Ooh, boy, you don’t have a single clue at all! Toya doesn’t give two cents about her baby. Her blind grandmother has been taking care of her baby because Toya is crazy. Second, Toya is a high-school dropout!”

  “I didn’t know,” Mike said.

  “Of course you didn’t. You’re so full of sperm that you didn’t even think to check out what she was really about. All you wanted to do was get your jollies,” I scolded him.

  “What am I going to do, Keysha? When Jordan finds out he’s going to snap me in half! I might as well pack my bags and run away now.”

  “You know, you’ve got to deal with it. I’ve got my own drama to deal with right now. I’ve got to take this money back,” I said and stood up.

  “Money? What money? What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “My mother and that dumb ass Simon have robbed the damn Currency Exchange a few blocks over. Right now they’re out somewhere being chased by the police. I’m going to go take this money back,” I said as I started to leave.

  “Keysha, please wait. Help me. What am I supposed to do?” Mike looked incredibly pitiful. “Should I just kill myself now?” Mike began hyperventilating.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any answers to your problem,” I said.

  “Maybe I can go steal the car back. Do you have any idea where they might have taken the car?” Mike asked. I stopped and paused for a minute. I searched my memory to see if I could remember anything I may have overheard at some point.

  “They’re probably anticipating you calling the police so they can’t drive too far in that car. I have heard that car thieves have a special hideaway over on 51st Street near the old stockyards, but that was a while ago.”

  “Come go with me, Keysha.” Mike pleaded. “I don’t know where that is.”

  “Mike, I have to take this money back,” I said.

  “Keysha, please, this is life or death. If the car is there, we’ll get it back, then we’ll bring the money back and go home.”

  “And how am I supposed to explain how I got home?” I asked him.

  “Tell them that Justine freaked out and you caught Metra train back home. By the time we get home, you can call them so that they don’t make an extra trip back here. Please, Keysha. I’m begging you. I was there for you when all of that mess with Liz went down. You owe me. Please help me fix this.”

  How could I not help him after he’d brought up Liz Lloyd? I felt as if I was being pulled in several directions at once.

  “Please, Keysha.” Mike begged me again.

  “Okay,” I exhaled. “But how are we going to get the car back if it’s there?” I asked.

  “I’ll figure it out when I get there,” Mike said.

  “Come on,” I said. “We can catch a cab over to the place I’m talking about.”

  I had the cab driver drop us off two blocks away from the old stockyards so that we wouldn’t alarm anyone. Mike and I wandered cautiously around, peeping inside the windows of old abandoned structures where livestock were once slaughtered and then shipped off the supermarkets. The stockyards had been closed for years but the old structures were never demolished. The area was a haven for back-alley deals, payoffs to dirty cops and other illegal activities.

  “I don’t know, Mike. It doesn’t look like they’re here and this place is creeping me out,” I said.

  “Let’s just check the last building ahead of us.” The last structure was about one hundred yards in front of us. There were no other buildings around so anyone who looked out a window would see us coming.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Mike,” I said.

  “Come on, Keysha. Please,” Mike said. “On the count of three, we’re going to run over there. Okay?” Mike wanted me to confirm that I’d run with him across the open lot that was littered with old railroad tracks, old train cars, broken chunks of concrete and other abandoned wreckage.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “One, two, three, go!” Mike counted down and we ran as fast as we could to the last structure. When we got there, we rested our backs against the old dilapidated building. There was an open window above our heads so Mike stood up and peeked inside.

  “It’s here,” Mike whispered loudly. He was clearly excited about finding the car.

  “For real?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Mike said peeping back inside. “There are several cars in there. Jordan’s car is just on the other side of this wall,” Mike whispered. “And the keys are still in the ignition. There are several dudes at the other end of the building talking. I see Toya’s stanky butt as well,” Mike said as he ducked back down.

  “Okay. I’ve had enough of this Harriet the Spy and Scooby Doo crap. I’m calling the police,” I said and reached for my cell phone.

  “No!” Mike stopped me.

  “What do you mean, no?” I said. “We’ve found the car, Mike. Let’s call the police and get this over with.”

  “Call the police after we get Jordan’s car back,” Mike said.

  “Mike, how are you going to get in there? Those guys probably have guns and you can’t stop a bullet. You’re not bulletproof.”

  “I’ve got to try, Keysha. I’ve got to fix this. Once I get the car back, believe me, I am going to straight chill out. I’m just going to focus on school and focus on being a good son. I’ve never been in this type of trouble with my parents, Keysha. All of the deception I’ve been pulling lately is not going to go over well with them.”

  “Oh, God. What have you gotten me into, Mike?” I asked as I weighed our options and considered his plan. Mike looked around for an entrance.

  “Look, over there. There is a door that’s cracked open. Come on.” Mike said and moved toward the door before I could stop him. He gently pulled open the old, rusty and squeaky metal door. He opened it up just enough for both of us to squeeze through it. We crouched down as low as we could and raced over to Jordan’s Trans Am. Mike opened the door on the driver’s side very quietly and very slowly. Once it was open enough, he turned to me and whispered.

  “Crawl in!” I did what he asked and made my way to the passenger seat. Once I was inside, I fastened my seat belt. Mike got in and gently pulled the door shut.

  “I sure hope you know how to drive this car good,” I whispered. Mike looked out the window past me at Toya who saw that we were in the car. Mike gave her and the men the middle finger and started up the motor. He put the car in Drive and slammed down on the accelerator. The tires of the powerful muscle car squealed as the car moved forward and fishtailed. Mike quickly gained control over the car and rushed toward the exit where Toya, Junior’s father and a few other men were standing. Everyone leaped out of the way as Mike bolted through the exit and made a hard left. The car did a power slide sending all kinds of lose rocks, dust and other debris flying into the air.

  “Go!” I s
houted at him as I looked out the back window to see if the bad guys had guns. Mike didn’t continue driving and I wondered why. When I turned back and saw what he saw, my heart stopped.

  “Oh, no. This can’t be happening!” Mike screamed out. Squad cars from the Chicago Police Department where rushing toward us with their lights flashing and sirens wailing.

  “I hate the police!” Mike said and slammed down on the accelerator. The Trans Am responded immediately. The motor howled, the tires screamed and the car began moving out.

  “Mike! What are you doing?” I screamed at him.

  “We’re going home, Keysha! I’m not going to get into trouble for this!” he said as he swerved to avoid hitting a squad car. Mike lost control of the powerful muscle car which spun around and finally stopped when the rear quarter panel crashed into a wooden utility pole.

  “Damn it!” Mike tried to start the car but it wouldn’t turn over. He looked at me and said “Come on. Let’s run!” Mike opened up his car door.

  “Mike, stop,” I said as I rubbed the side of my head which had slammed against the passenger door window.

  “Come on, Keysha, we can run away from this! We’ll just tell a lie to Jordan that the car was stolen from the garage. I don’t want to tell my Dad that I wrecked his car! He loves this car. He probably loves this car more than he loves me. He’s going to kill me, Keysha. I’d rather the police shoot me dead now instead of facing Jordan and the consequences.” Mike rambled not wanting to concede to the fact that we were both in some major trouble.

  “Mike,” I said as I touched his shoulder. “We’re already in way over our heads. Your running away is only going to make it worse than what it is. Especially if you panic now.” At that moment the police surrounded the car and barricaded us in. They drew their weapons on us and told us to get out of the car slowly. Mike got out of the car first with hands above his head. The police instructed him to lie facedown on the ground. Once they had Mike in handcuffs, they instructed me to get out of the car and do the same. Once I was down on the cold ground, an officer placed my wrists in handcuffs. Mike and I were pulled to our feet then other officers began searching the car. I noticed that other officers were also in the process of arresting Toya and everyone else she was associated with. The entire moment felt like a scene from a Hollywood movie but it wasn’t fiction, it was real and it didn’t make me feel good at all.

  “Looks like we’ve found some of the money that was stolen from the Currency Exchange earlier today,” said the officer, who’d just found my purse and opened it up.

  “Wait. I can explain that,” I said hastily.

  “Well, before you do, let me read you your Miranda Rights,” said the officer who’d just finished searching my purse. “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you do or say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during the questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present you will still have the right to stop answering questions at any time until you talk to an attorney. Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked the officer as I glanced over at Mike, who had his head slumped down between his shoulders. He looked so defeated and worn out.

  “What’s your question?” the officer asked.

  “Can I call my Dad?” I asked as tears began streaming down my cheeks.

  eighteen

  MIKE

  Saturday, March 1st

  I sat handcuffed in the back of the police squad car, looking out the window at Toya, who was also being arrested. Once officers placed her inside the police car she was quickly driven away. I thought that she’d attempt to catch a glimpse of me as she was passing by, but Toya didn’t so much as glance in my direction.

  “Why, you cheap tramp? Why did you do this to me?” I yelled out as the car continued on its way. I tried to hold my tears back but I couldn’t. I cried so hard that my chest began hurting. I was a total mess in desperate need of some tissue so that I could blow my nose. The officers on the scene didn’t seem to care about my misery or my dilemma. They were too busy making sure they’d rounded up everyone. It wasn’t long before an army of trucks showed up and began the process of towing away all the cars. I watched as Jordan’s Trans Am was dragged into position so that it could be mounted to a tow truck. Once it was angled properly, the tow-truck driver, who was an overweight man wearing a mechanic’s uniform covered with oil stains, placed tow hooks beneath the rear of the tow truck and flipped a lever. I watched in horror as the Trans Am was hoisted high in the air.

  “Be careful!” I cried, but no one could hear me.

  The tow-truck driver then got in the cab and took off at a high speed, causing the nose of the Trans Am to bounce violently against the concrete.

  I placed my head against the window of the squad car and continued to cry. Over the past few weeks, I’d prided myself on being both physically and emotionally strong, but at this moment my crumbling emotions were winning the fight over my self-control. At that moment I prayed for God to end my life so that my suffering would end. I wanted to die so that I wouldn’t have to face the consequences of the mess I’d got myself into.

  A fair amount of time passed before an officer got in the squad car and told me that he was taking me to the police station, where I’d be processed and detained. By that point I didn’t care much about anything that happened to me. The world around me seemed to be moving in slow motion. My state of mind was confused and incoherent. It was as if a megaton bomb went off in my heart and the aftermath of the explosion left an eerie stillness and silence.

  We arrived at the police station about thirty minutes later and I was brought in through an entrance at the rear of the building. I was escorted through a series of giant and impenetrable doors and was finally asked to stop in front of a long countertop where several officers were working.

  “Hey, Monique. Can I get some paperwork so that I can process this guy?” said the officer who’d brought me in to the female officer behind the counter. Once Monique gave him what he’d asked for, he walked me over to a desk and sat me down.

  “Sir,” I spoke directly to the officer.

  “Hmm?” he asked as he began filling out a form that was attached to a clipboard.

  “My name is Mike Kendall. I know I’m in trouble and will not be leaving anytime soon. But I was just wondering if you could walk me to the bathroom so that I can clean up my face.” The officer stopped writing the glanced at me for a moment. I could tell that he was trying to determine if I was worth the effort of going out of his way to be nice. “I’m not going to run or anything. I just want to get cleaned up.” I assured him.

  “My name is Detective O’Malley,” he said and then set the clipboard on the desk. “Stand up and follow me,” he said and then escorted me to the bathroom.

  “Okay. Go on in and make it quick,” he instructed me.

  It felt good to splash cold water on my face and erase the tears and dirt. “Thanks,” I said, once I was back in the hallway.

  “Mike, I’m going to place you in a holding cell while I run a background check on you,” said Detective O’Malley as he looked at my State Identification Card, which he had pulled from my wallet.

  “Okay. I understand,” I said and followed him into a small concrete room with no windows and a solid door.

  “Have a seat. I’ll be back,” he said and then locked me inside. I sat down, placed my face in my hands and tried to reassure myself that everything was going to be okay. A long time passed before Detective O’Malley returned.

  “Come on. I’m going to allow you to make a phone call,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said and followed him over to an empty desk where there was a black telephone. I swallowed hard before I picked it up and di
aled.

  “Hello,” I heard Grandmother Katie’s soothing voice. She sounded so pleasant and gentle.

  “Hello,” I uttered before a wave of sadness gripped me.

  “Mike, is that you? What’s wrong? Why are you upset?” she asked, filled with loving concern.

  “I’m in trouble,” I answered her. “I didn’t want to call Jordan because he’d going to kill me when he finds out what has happened.” I said, struggling to gain my composure.

  “Mike. Your father isn’t going to kill you.” She tried to assure me. “Now tell me what’s wrong so that we can fix things. I’m sure whatever is going on it can’t be all that bad.”

  “I’m afraid it’s really bad, Grandma,” I whispered.

  “What happened—did someone die?” Her voice was filled with panic.

  “No, not yet,” I answered her.

  “Stop toying with me, Mike, and tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.

  “I’m in jail, Grandma,” I answered her.

  “Mike, stop playing around and tell me the truth,” she said with a slight laugh, not believing that her beloved grandson was in jail.

  “That is the truth. I’m in jail and I don’t want to call Jordan to tell him. He’s going to be so angry with me, Grandma. I’ve really messed up and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Baby, what police station are you at and why are you there?”

  “It’s a long story, but I need your help. Will you drive up here and save me from Jordan? I want to come live you for a while.”

  “Mike, Jordan is not going to kill you so just calm down. Get that thought out of your head,” she insisted.

  “I’ve wrecked the Trans Am, Grandma. I smashed it up pretty badly,” I said.

  “Oh, boy.” she sighed loudly. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Does Barbara know where you are?” she asked.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Okay. Give me that information so that I can write it down,” she said. I looked over at Detective O’Malley and asked him for the address of the station. Once he gave me the information I gave it to Grandmother Katie.