by Triss Stein
Here was a place for pictures of smiling Savanna with girl friends and family. Deandra was in one. And there was a place for some essays she wrote. And a place for information about the progress of a solution to the crime. I looked. Nothing I didn’t know. There had been no updates. And a place for her story, with information about her medical status, too. I looked, holding my breath.
She had been moved from the original hospital to one with more advanced specialized facilities. And it was near me, an ever-growing hospital center right in the neighborhood.
I did what any mom of a teen would do in this situation. Some experiences make you sisters under the skin.
In a Personal Message I wrote, “Zora, the new hospital is a short walk from my house. Any way I can help? Check in on her when you can’t be there? Offer you a meal or a place to sleep if you are there late? It would be living room couch, but you are welcome to it.”
Then I went back to searching for information about Deandra. Nothing. I for sure had no official or even legitimate reason for asking questions, but I wanted to know. Wanted to know someone was working on this. Wanted to know someone remembered her.
I gave myself a shake and changed my screen back to work. I needed to make a list of questions for Ruby and Lil. I did hope we would be able to include Lil. I liked her acerbic honesty and thought it would be a good contrast to Ruby’s somewhat nostalgic story telling.
***
Dinner was done, and I was doing the last bit of kitchen cleanup, when my laptop pinged with a message.
“Thx for offer. Appreciated. Care to drop by tonight? No family could make it. Z”
That was a surprise. And I could.
“Will do. Need anything?”
“Serious coffee would be lifesaving. Sweet and creamy.”
And a walk in the spring night would be good for me.
I called up to Chris, “Going out for a bit. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay.” She appeared at top of stairs. “Before you go? Battle of Lexington before or after Bunker Hill?”
I paused.
“Yes, I know I could look it up, but I am in a hurry to get this assignment done. Please just share your infinite knowledge? Please?”
“Before. Be good while I’m gone.”
She was already back in her room.
It was a nice night. It had been a cold spring but as I walked along I passed tiny front gardens where the crocuses and miniature irises were poking their heads up at last. Almost every house has a garden and they are all different. Some were carpeted with ground cover like ivy. Some had clipped evergreen shrubs and some had small trees, a miniature red maple here, a graceful dogwood there.
My own garden space had been paved over by some previous owner. A bonehead move for sure, cheap and ugly. I tried to compensate with big potted plants but I didn’t have the time or the green thumb to take good care of them. One day, if we ever had some money, I would remove the concrete entirely and put the garden back. For now, I had to appreciate my neighbors’.
The hospital is a maze, as hospitals always are. I got lost a couple of times but finally found the right unit. I steeled myself before I knocked on the door. I didn’t know what I would see.
I knocked again.
“Zora?”
“Here. Come on in.”
The room was darkened, with a circle of light at the guest chair. The curtain was closed and there was a low hospital hum and a slight disinfectant smell. I was more nervous by the moment. Maybe it was not a good idea.
She stood up. “Why, it’s little white girl!” She saw my face. “Okay, I’ll stop. You’re no one’s little girl anymore.” I handed her the giant coffee cup. “And thank you and not just for the coffee.”
“How are you doing?”
She gave me a look that said it all. Not good.
“Hoping and praying.” A tiny smile. “And harassing the doctors of course.”
I smiled back. “Goes without saying.”
“So come on in. Do you want to see my Savanna?”
“I don’t know. Do I?” But the look in her eyes told me I did. Because she needed another live person tonight, sharing.
Savanna was motionless under her cover and hooked up to machines, bandaged around her head and one arm. Her pretty face was swollen and bruised in an array of colors.
“It was worse.” She said it calmly. “The bruises are fading a bit now. I tell myself that means she is getting better.” She shrugged. “Hoping it is true and afraid to hope, both. Know what I mean?”
I nodded.
“You can say hi to her. They tell me, the docs and mostly, the nurses, that people hear even when they are like…like this. Or a stroke or whatnot. Or maybe they do. So it’s good to keep talking. Let them know they are not alone and keep their brains working. I been telling her every story I could think of but I’m running out.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I’ve taken to reading her celebrity magazine stories. Yes, I have! I never would let her have them in the house. What is a smart girl doing with that nonsense?” Her eyes filled with tears. “If she can ever read again, I’m subscribing to every one for her. You don’t want to know the latest on Beyonce, do you?”
I almost laughed at that.
“No, I am not kidding! I know it all. But please don’t tell anyone.”
I swallowed hard. “Hey, Savanna. It’s Erica Donato. We met at the library and you were super helpful.” I turned to Zora. “Should I tell her about what I’m working on?”
“Why not?”
So I went on for awhile, a monologue in a soft voice, in a scary setting. I talked about work. I talked about my daughter. I talked about college, not that I really knew much about going away to school. There was no response but the occasional flicker of her eyelids. They did not open.
Zora stood on the other side of the bed, holding her daughter’s hand, and sometimes responding to what I said.
When I couldn’t talk anymore I turned to Zora. “Now I need coffee. Can I get some for you too?”
“The coffee from the machine is nasty stuff. I’ve already learned that.” She rubbed the space between her eyes. “I don’t think I had supper. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”
A cup of coffee and a stale muffin for me, a cup of coffee and steam-table mac and cheese for her. She only ate a few bites before she put her fork down. “Bad choice. I’m too stressed to eat this gooey stuff.”
“Can I get you some fruit?”
I came back with a banana and an apple. She ate them both, barely noticing what she had, but after, she looked less drained.
I was somewhat uncomfortable. No, strike that. Very uncomfortable. I didn’t know her that well. I barely knew her at all. What was appropriate for me to say? Or helpful? So I went for direct and blunt.
“What are the doctors saying?”
“They have some hopes here. Special machines. Special therapy even now.” She shrugged. “Who the hell really knows?”
Okay. What now?
“How did the demonstration seem to you? Was it at all useful?”
“It gave me something to do. Focus on. Know what I mean? And there was plenty of anger around the neighborhood, like always, and this gave a focus for that too. Will it do anything? Who knows? Some folks are planning another demonstration at City Hall.” She looked at me with a mocking smile. “Want to come?”
“What are they demonstrating for? Or against?”
“Better policing, seems like, or less policing, or both. They haven’t quite worked it out. When you live in Brownsville, believe it, you’ve got your choice of police issues.” She shook her head. “I’m not involved in that. I was really just trying to see if it rooted out anyone who knows what happened to Savanna. Just trying to make a noise.” She smiled for real. “I happen to be good at that.”
“Yo
u sure are. You’ve got that, I don’t know? Presence? Plus a voice.”
“Yeah, I can go loud if need be. It all comes in handy in a lecture hall. I’m teaching college now. I never need a mic in the classroom and none of those kids give me any attitude.”
“What? Wait—you’re teaching?”
“Yeah. Lecturing at Kingsboro and Medgar Evers, both.” She smiled at me. “Sociology. Yeah, true. After that bad class we took together I felt challenged to do it right.” She stared off as if going a long way back. “Me and Savvie used to sit around the kitchen table, doing our homework together. She was such a bright candle in my life. Is. She IS a bright candle. One more year of teaching. That’s all it would take, one more, and I would have enough saved to move us out of the projects for good. My little Wellesley girl could come back to a clean new home on a safe, clean street.” Her eyes filled with tears. She angrily wiped them away with a napkin and stood up quickly. “Time for me to go back. I don’t like to leave her alone too much.”
“Are you staying the night?”
“Chair makes up into a bed. Not really comfortable for a tall woman like me, but she’s only been here a couple of days. It seems like a pretty good place but I want to be around.”
As we approached Savanna’s room, we saw a skinny young man step out, pull up his sweatshirt hood, look both ways and turn down the hall.
“What the hell?”
Chapter Thirteen
He heard Zora’s shout and began to run. She shouted again, calling for security, and then gasped and ran into Savanna’s room. I was right behind.
Savanna was just as we left her, under the covers, hooked to all the machines, breathing lightly, unharmed.
Zora was breathing hard, almost to a panic attack. “I got so scared. So scared. What if…what if…” By then a nurse was in the room, checking everything and I stepped out, out of the way.
A security guard was walking toward the room, wanting to talk to Zora, and—when he realized I was right there—to me.
But what could I tell him? What happened? There wasn’t much to say. Someone had been in Savanna’s room without anyone’s permission. Could I describe him? It was a boy. Probably. But could have been a girl, and even, maybe, a small adult. Race? I hadn’t really seen his face but I had seen his hands as he ran. Dark? Height? Short. Clothes? Dark pants, dark hoodie. Build? Thin.
The guard looked disappointed, edging into disgusted, and I couldn’t blame him. Zora had nothing to add, and no, she had no idea who it was.
“I didn’t even get a good look at his face, but he didn’t look familiar from the back. All I know is he was here in my baby’s room, alone, with no permission from anyone. How in hell did that happen when a girl was beaten half to death? Anyone could come by to finish the job. She is not supposed to have visitors at all except me and who I bring.”
Her shaken, whispery voice got louder. “What kind of security do you have here, anyway? Did you catch him?”
“No, ma’am. He was real fast and I was at the other end of the corridor. By the time I heard the shouting he’d jumped into an elevator and was gone.”
The guard was big and uniformed, but she clearly had him cowed. He was apologizing all over the place and promised his boss would come talk to her in the morning.
Zora accepted that, not graciously, and then collapsed onto the chair, fanning herself. “Goodness, I was scared. But all’s well that ends well, I suppose.” She chuckled, faintly. “That kid in uniform sure got an earful from me. And I’ll be having a conversation tomorrow with his boss, you can bet on that.”
She looked over at me, almost as if she’d forgotten I was there. “You can go home now. I am going to put on my night things and catch some sleep.” She shook her head. “Sorry if that sounds rude. I’m running on empty about now.”
“I got it. Go sleep.”
I walked out through the lobby, and then walked back in. I had seen something. Maybe. Maybe I had seen something, a kid, sitting on a bench, facing the elevator. Hood up, face down in a magazine. He was not turning the pages.
There were lots of people coming and going. I was sure he had not noticed me noticing him. I wanted to keep it that way so I moved away from his line of vision while keeping him in mine, and approached a guard. I whispered the story of the intruder running from Savanna’s room, and he nodded and silently sent a text. “Calling upstairs, where you were. I’ll get someone down to look at him.”
While we waited, the boy never moved. Was he asleep?
The elevator doors opened to disclose another guard, and also Zora. The two men motioned her to stand back, with me as they approached the box. Then they very quietly moved to stand near the boy. He never noticed when one of them dropped into the seat next to him, but he jumped when a large hand grasped his arm.
“I need you to come with me, son.”
The hood was down and we saw him at last, a skinny kid with frightened eyes. They darted this way and that, looking for a way to get out, but he soon saw there was no chance with a guard on either side.
They motioned to Zora and me to follow them and we went to an office off the lobby.
“Ma’am, could you identify him as the boy you saw leaving your daughter’s room? Or Ms….?”
“Donato. And I would say maybe. We never saw his face, so it’s hard to say, but the build is right, and clothes are the same. Of course any kid could be wearing a black hoodie and black pants.”
“He looked familiar to me,” Zora said. “What she said about tonight. I kind of remember his shoes, every kid is obsessed with having the right shoes, but there’s something else.” She was staring intently at him. “I seen him somewhere. Check his ID and I bet you find him in Brownsville.” He started at that.
“Yeah, I got you, don’t I? Right out of the hood. Kind of a long way from home, ain’t you?”
He shut his mouth in a grim line but his hands were shaking.
“Now I want to know what you doing in my little girl’s room.” While her speech became more ghetto as she talked, her voice grew louder. In the small room, she was approaching gospel preaching volume. “If you know something about her, you best get ready to start talking. And if you don’t, what in hell you doing there?”
The guards were looking very concerned, and double teamed her, to get her calm and seated.
Good thing, too. She looked ready to blow up. The guards looked determined and the kid looked terrified. I don’t know how I looked, but certainly I was motivated by curiosity. What in the world would happen next?
A guard sat up close, looking right into his face. “You are going to be talking to cops because they will be very interested in how you know Ms. Lafayette’s daughter.”
“Aren’t you cops?”
“No, you moron. You can think of us as cops here in the hospital but we are private security officers. Our job right now is to figure out what this has to do with keeping the hospital safe. If you help us out here, it might go better for you when cops show up.”
“Nothin’.” He mumbled.
“What you say?”
“Nothin’. I’m not saying nothin’.”
Zora stepped over to him and peered into his face.
“You stupid little kid. You think you’re a man, hanging tough? You think wearing your pants down to your knees and a gang tattoo—oh, yeah, I see it—you think that makes you a man? Someone beat up my girl and if you know anything at all, you better speak up. You know what jail is like?”
He shook his head, terrified.
“You being tough now? You have no idea how fast you gonna crumble like a cookie.”
“I wasn’t doing anything.” He whispered it. “I went to see how she doing, that’s all. I know her a little bit, but my…” He stopped himself and shut his mouth in a tight line.
I was keeping close to the corner of the room, hoping
no one would remember I was still there. Probably I shouldn’t have been.
One guard turned to me while the other kept a wary eye on both the boy and Zora.
“You the person who saw him first?”
“Yes.”
“And who are you in this?”
“I was keeping Zora—Ms. Lafayette—company in her daughter’s hospital room.”
“Okay, you stick around. Cops on their way, they might send you straight home or want to talk to you some more.”
Cops were there almost before he finished, and the small room suddenly became even more crowded.
The officer seemed to be acquainted with the guards who filled him in.
“I need to figure out if we are moving this to the precinct or a private room here—you got one for us?—or arrest this kid. You!”
The kid looked up, fearful but determined.
“You ready to tell us a story?”
He shook his head. “Didn’t do nothin’.”
“That would be a matter of opinion. Mostly mine. Being up in Savanna’s room, you were trespassing at least. You ever heard of something called a material witness?”
He shook his head.
“Hand over some ID and quit wasting my time. I really don’t like that at all. And you really don’t want me to be angry at you so soon.” His voice was calm but his expression said no more fooling around.
I doubted this kid was in danger of being arrested, but thought the threat was having some effect.
The boy reached into his pocket and came out with a school ID.
“Jackie Isiahson. That you?”
He nodded.
“Quite a mouthful, that name. Where do you live?”
Mumble, mumble.
“That’s right next to us. Another project. I knew I’d seen you around, you little…”
One of the guards put his hand on Zora’s arm and she shook it off, angrily, but did not move closer.
“You hang out with that gang mostly taking over the playground at night.” She was angry, breathing hard, but turned to the detective and said, “I can give you names of a couple of his dumbass friends. On the record. I bet he’s already known to cops out there.”
