Brooklyn Secrets

by Triss Stein

  They had to pull the boys apart and hold them. They shouted to the bystanders “Break it up! Move on!” No one moved until more cops arrived and waded into the crowd shouting and shoving. Myself, I could not take my eyes away from the brothers.

  “We need to be there.” Zora had a firm grip on my arm. “Let’s go.” She whispered, “And not get stuck in this crowd.”

  “You boys got to break it up.” A cop was shouting it. “If we let go, you gonna behave?”

  “I’m gon’ tear his head off, that’s what I’m fixing to do.” Jackie was thrashing around, trying to get free.

  “On your best day, your BEST one ever, you little cockroach, you couldn’t get close to me.”

  Jackie’s struggles became even more frenzied as we got closer. Sergeant Asher, radiating authority, approached from the street. She glared at all of us.

  “Get these two baby gangsters subdued. Now.” She turned to us. “You have more to say about my case? That you didn’t already tell me? I don’t like having my time wasted.” She turned back to the uniformed cops. “Cuff the boys if necessary but bring them in.”

  “No, no, no.” Jackie was still twisting and turning. “I can say it here. Ain’t much but my big shot big bro needs to hear it.”

  Asher made a “hold off” gesture to her men. Zora and I stopped dead in our tracks.

  “I told some men where they could find Savanna.” He staggered to his feet, his face oozing blood and eye already swelling and purple. “I told them. That’s all. Didn’t mean no real harm.” He looked at Tyler. “In your interest, man, that’s all it was. They your people, not mine. They didn’t say it would be a beat down.”

  You could have heard Zora all the way to Manhattan. “What did you say?” She broke through the little knot of cops and was right in Jackie’s face. At that moment I wouldn’t have given him any chance at all against her. “You led those monsters to my baby? And you still are not saying who they are? I could rip you apart.” She was panting. “I would like to.”

  “No, no, leave him to me, Miz Lafayette,” Tyler said. “My half-brother, my girl. That’s my job.”

  “No, it is not.” When Sergeant Asher spoke she somehow became the person in charge. Just like that. How did she do that? “It’s my job, you young fools. See that?” She pointed to her shield. “That says so.”

  “You spit it out, Jackie boy.” Tyler ignored her. “Who these men you keep calling mine? I got no gang, only my home boys, and none of them would even think to lay a finger…”

  Jackie smiled, swollen eye and all. It was a vindictive grin, both evil and pathetic.

  “You so busy being the good boy, you don’t know who your own people are. Never knew their names, but they sent from people paying for your training. You think it comes for free? Cause they like your pretty face? See, they saw same as me—she distracting you and they worried about their investment.”

  Under his smooth tan skin, Tyler flushed an angry dark color. Zora turned on him. “You made this happen?” She looked ready to give him his own medicine.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Hell, no. Not possible they would do that. Knowing she means everything to me?”

  “You still the cause. Your life.” She poked him in his chest with each word. “Your friends.”

  “Stand down, Ms. Lafayette. And I mean now.” Asher was signaling to her men.

  “Not my friends. They are not. Not now. Not ever, really. They are…they are kind of….”

  Sergeant Asher grabbed Jackie by the back of his neck. “Explain. Now. Or we are taking a ride you won’t enjoy.”

  Seeing with only one eye, and bleeding, Jackie said “They had a lot of money in you. The beaters work for them. Sent to give a message to her, like, stay away, and to you too, like, keep your eyes on the prize.” He spat a mouthful of blood. “You not going back to school, boy, no matter what honey she whisper in your ear. You sticking to your training and you gonna make big money for them. And us all.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud!” Asher looked to be at the end of her rope. “Take this idiot in.” She turned to Jackie. “And no more problems from you, either. Hear me? You are in big trouble.” Back to the uniformed cops. “Use cuffs. And give him an ice pack. I want him able to talk. I have a whole lot of questions for him.”

  She looked at Tyler. “You. You are coming along. I have plenty of questions for you too.” She snapped her head back to the cops. “In a different car, not anywhere near each other. I want them alive and conscious.”

  She looked us over. “Ms. Lafayette, you need to go away now. None of this concerns you.”

  “None of this concerns me?” She could have singed Asher with her glare. “Who else you know is more concerned than me? I am not letting those two little SOBs out of my sight until someone is behind bars.”

  Then I learned that Sergeant Asher was a smart cop.

  “Ms. Lafayette,” she said softly, “I know when it comes to involvement, no one cares more than you, not even close. But we are taking these two knuckleheads and we are going to get everything they know. I do mean everything—they’re going nowhere until they give it all up and Jackie’s not going even after that. No way. I promise. With each word, her voice grew softer but more emphatic.

  By the time we are done we will know what the thugs had for breakfast and what car the boss drives. And we’ll be right on top of every single detail, I promise.” She stopped. “After you, we are the people who most want to nail the bastards. And we might finally be on that road. Sounds good?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Why don’t you go hug your daughter and tell her we are making some progress here?”

  The lieutenant shouted at the last stragglers to move on now, and headed for her car.

  Zora suddenly looked a few inches smaller and thoroughly exhausted. Myself, I was still shaking. She shocked me by putting her head on my shoulder.

  “I can hardly take it all in,” she whispered. “I don’t even know who to be most mad at now.” She stood up and looked at me. “What do you think? Can I trust that woman to go after them like she said?”

  “Her? Oh, yeah.”

  Zora pulled herself straight and gave a little shake.

  “Lord, lord, what now?” She looked all around, not seeming to see anything. She closed her eyes. “I believe I do need to take her advice and just go hold my baby. You going in that direction?”

  “Yes, I’m going home. I’m exhausted, just watching all that. All that…all that…”

  “Craziness?” Zora’s voice shook. “But their stupid drama almost got my baby killed.” She took some deep breaths and stood up straighter. “I don’t feel like saying they’re just stupid kids and stopping there.”

  We were out of the project by then. She pointed down the city block to a doughnut shop.

  We fueled up, drowning the shakes in comfort food—coffee all around, a chocolate glazed doughnut for me, and Boston cream stuffed for Zora.

  “Make it a double.” Zora said. “One for now, one for the road. Caffeine and sugar, two of my favorite food groups.”

  My smile trembled, heartfelt. My pulse slowed, my breath evened out. I was calming down from the shakes from the burst of violence.

  She said, “I’m serious. They are. Savvie loves the doughnut holes. She could eat a whole bag in a flash.”

  “Someday soon you’ll be buying her some.” I patted her arm.

  “Your mouth to God’s ears. When that day comes, I plan to buy the whole party size box, all for her.”

  A woman in layers of dirty sweats pushed past us as we were leaving.

  Zora stopped and turned around. “I do believe that is Deandra’s mother. I haven’t seen in her in forever. She looks in a bad way.”

  We went back in, me following Zora’s lead as I had all morning. Her world, not mine. The woman stood at the
counter, wheedling. No, the right word is begging.

  Her speech was slurred as she tried to persuade the older woman behind the counter to give her a doughnut.

  “I am so hungry and I ain’t got no money today. I’ll pay you back when I get some. That’s a promise, me to you.”

  “Ma’am, I can’t. I’d lose my job.”

  “You can just pour me a coffee then. I’ll fix it up with a whole lot of sugar.”

  “Ma’am?” The woman looked desperate. “Please. I have to ask…”

  Zora stepped to the counter. “Give me a small bag of doughnut holes and a coffee.” She turned to the woman next to her. “Why, Alice Ann, is that you? It’s Zora. You know, Savanna’s mother.”

  The other woman’s eyes filled with tears. “They took my baby. Did you know that? You have Savanna but my girl is gone. Gone.” She started rocking back and forth. “Never gon’ see her again.”

  Zora guided her to one of the few seats. She promptly put her head down on the table and didn’t move.

  “My order is ready, Erica. Bring it here?” Zora was shaking the woman’s shoulder. “Come on, Alice. Wake up. We’ve got doughnut treats for you and smell that coffee.”

  “Ha. Wake up and smell the coffee. Ah.” She wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “Still cold out. Spring but not warming. I been up most of the night, wandering around. Cold.”

  “Drink up. You still have a home?”

  She glared at Zora. “I ain’t living on the street! But I don’t like being home now. Never did, really. Even before…before…walking at night kept the devil away. It’s a comfort to be out and around.”

  “I know. But now you need to go home and shower and then get some sleep. Take the doughnuts.”

  She was holding a doughnut hole as if she hadn’t seen one before. She licked her sugary fingers and then ate the munchkin in one bite. And ate another. She was not ready to move.

  “My sweet little Didi. Did you know her?” She peered at Zora but I’m the one who answered.

  “Yes, ma’am. I met her a couple of times. She was…she did seem…very sweet. And nervous? Like something on her mind?” I stopped myself before I blurted out that I had found her body. Not an image I wanted to lay on this woman. Instead I said, irrelevantly, “I liked her sneakers.”

  She smiled sadly. “She loved those pink sneakers. She did.” A pause. “I don’t remember how she got them.” Another two munchkins and she sighed. “Yes, she was a nervous little girl. But more now. One time…one time, a nighttime, she came to find me when I was wandering, my sweet girl, and she was real upset. Something she saw… she wasn’t supposed to see…and I didn’t listen. Wasn’t quite myself that night.” She was crying again. She stood up, hugging her coffee and putting the bag into a pocket.

  The woman at the counter opened the door for her to stumble out.

  “You know her? She comes in a lot looking for free food. Sometimes I have day olds I can give away.” She shook her head. “She must have some demons chasing her.”

  We watched her shuffle across the street, mid-block, ignoring the traffic. She stopped to eat a doughnut hole from the bag, then walked off aimlessly in the wrong direction. She stopped to talk to someone. Would she ever get to her home?

  “Yeah, those demons have got her good.” Zora rubbed her eyes. “No way to get her help if she doesn’t want it. Haven’t slept much myself lately.”

  That was the truth. She fell asleep in the car. I woke her when we reached the hospital.

  “We’re here? Already?” Before she went in, she added, “Thank you. Good to have you along today.” She smiled the faintest of smiles. “Later today I’ll start harassing those cops for some results.”

  “What are you going to do if Tyler comes back to the hospital?”

  “Cross that bridge when I need to. What I am hoping is, he is too afraid of me to try it.”

  “Afraid? Really? He gets beat up for a living.”

  “Yes, but he’s still a kid. And there is nothing as scary as an angry momma with attitude. Don’t you know that?”

  I thought about it the whole rest of the way home. Could I learn that from Zora? As Chris moved ever deeper into teenager-hood, it could come in handy.

  For a little while, it displaced the other question I had been running in my head. Tammy. She said, “After all I’ve done.” I was sure of it.

  What did it mean? When she said it, it looked to me like something more significant than loving Tyler. That she had actually done something.

  And as I thought about it, I realized the cops had not arrived yet, when she was ranting, so they didn’t hear it.

  When I finally got home I found mail from my advisor, both e-mail and a paper letter. At the sight, all conflicts from this morning flew out of my mind. I only wondered how much trouble I might be in, how far behind in my academic work I was.

  I didn’t open either of them. Not yet. The argument in my head split me right down the middle. Half of my brain said, “I don’t care. I need a break. I don’t care.” Okay, maybe that was not my brain talking. The other half said, “So many people have helped you with jobs, fellowships, and encouragement. You owe it to them to be responsible and dedicated.” I had no idea who was talking there, but I didn’t want to listen.

  This called for chocolate. I suspected Chris had some stashed away.

  How much snooping could I legitimately do in her room? Ah, probably none. And if I did it anyway, would I find things I don’t want to know? Risky.

  So I texted:

  Chocolate emergency. Got some?

  Ten minutes later, she was back with:

  Shelf next to bed. Touch NOTHING else! I’ll know!!!!

  A bag of M&Ms, all for me. After a handful, I had the courage to open my advisor’s e-mail. She was changing her phone number. That was it? That’s all? And the letter merely confirmed the same and explained the overall building communications upgrade. Like I cared.

  All that angst for nothing. Although I did get the M&Ms out of it.

  After the flurry of panic about the official mail, I went back to the events of the morning. It was not only the drama that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Or the tragedy. It was Tyler and Savanna. They had hope, in a corner of the city where there was very little of that to be found. They believed they could write a different story for themselves. It would take a heart of stone not to be touched by them.

  Then again, was all of this the truth? We only had his story about Savanna and himself, deeply in love and supporting each other. What would Savanna say, if she could talk to us? Chris was in her first romance and I myself wasn’t taking it very seriously. She’s only a kid. Savanna and Tyler were a little older, and lived far less protected lives, but that still did not make them adults.

  Chris’ words came back to haunt me. “I’m a year younger than you were when you met dad. And you were old enough to know.”

  Somewhere in that moment, for a second, I was that girl again, dancing at a party with a new boy and feeling like my life was forever changed. As it was.

  Making myself move on, I considered Jackie. He was a nasty piece of work, looking to his half-brother for fame and fortune. And he did say someone else was behind the attack on Savanna, the mysterious people he had helped.

  Long ago, I learned something useful from Leary.

  “Don’t you believe it is churchy la femme, no matter what those Frenchies say. It is churchy la francs. Following the money always gets you somewhere.”

  So. After Jackie, who would be most unhappy to have Tyler quit boxing? Who had the serious money in the game?

  Boxing trainer Brennan would not tell me, and claimed he did not know. Yeah, right. Tyler and Jackie could not tell me, as they were busy telling everything to Asher. They did not appear to know, themselves, who pulled the strings. Maybe they were telling the truth, maybe n
ot.

  But now I knew someone myself. Joe’s friend Archie. The lawyer who loved boxing.

  I e-mailed.

  So I did.

  He sounded impatient so I got right to it.

  “Besides his trainer, who would be most unhappy about a promising young boxer quitting? Would it be the people who are investing in his career?”

  “If there is a lot of money out? You bet. The big money supporters would be controlling as much of his life as they can. All for his own good, they would say.”

  “How far would they go?”

  “Hey. You are getting into some deep waters. Is this really about grad school? Maybe you need to tell me why you want to know?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Then this is as far as I can go with an answer. If it was someone like me, say—and I have made those investments—I’d just talk his ear off until he got back in the game. If it was some, ah, less polished persons? They might exert pressure.” Over the phone line, I could hear him thinking.

  “For an example, because I met his trainer? That young Tyler Isiahson?” I was trying to be devious. “What about him?” I held my breath.

  There was silence. Then he said, “There are rumors. Just rumors and gossip. Remember that’s all it is. That his backers are…let’s say, not the most respectable businessmen. Does that help?”

  “Yes, I think it does. Thank you very much.”

  “No problem. But be careful, okay?”

  So there was gossip about Tyler. And if there was gossip? Then it had to be out there somewhere. These days, every kind of gossip is out there somewhere. And while I couldn’t interrogate or threaten or arrest anyone, I could sure as hell research.

  Chris came home after dinner at Mel’s, knocked on my door, said she was going to bed.

  Two grueling hours later, way into the night, I had followed every hyperlink, skimmed an enormous amount of celebrity gossip, browsed obscure webzines and listservs about sports, boxing, and Brooklyn. And I knew something.

  It was a tiny article from an obscure boxing fan newsletter. Obscure to me, anyway. There was a photo. A winning boxer, not Tyler, posing with some “very big fans.” They had arms around him, huge grins and an overflowing bottle of champagne. The caption had names. And it mattered because I had seen two of them before. In a parking lot.