“Well, my friend, it’ll be about seven minutes. Think you can hold on till then?” Robert asked.
“‘kay.” The little boy nodded.
“What’s your name?” Monique asked as she knelt on one knee so she was face to face with the boy.
“Martin,” the boy answered.
“And who is that you’re holding? Your baby? I don’t know, you look too young to be a father,” Monique teased the little boy.
“This is my brother, Luther, but I’m kind of like his dad too because mamma says his dad is dead to her and Luther now...and she needs me to help him grow up.”
“Oh, so you both have different dads?”
“Yep.”
“And who’s helping you gr—” Monique stopped herself and just asked, “so where is your father then?”
“He’s dead...He was shot before I was born.”
“Shot?” Monique quickly recovered from the boy’s frank reply. “Oh...I’m sorry.” Monique thought of how little Martin could probably use a lot of those Mertle hugs. She gave Robert an I-can’t-believe-this look.
“Hey, Martin, where’s your mom now?” asked Robert.
“She went to pee.”
Suddenly a loud thumping sound was heard in the distance. As the noise grew nearer, you could almost feel the pounding of the beat quake under your feet; it drowned out all other sound. Robert immediately saw that it was coming from a dark green Hummer that had just parked on the side street. The moment the car’s engine was turned off, the harsh pounding ceased. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing. All eyes focused on the Hummer. Anxious murmuring filled the street. Watching and waiting in anticipation for the doors to open, almost as if royalty had arrived.
The car doors opened, six black men emerged onto the sidewalk and made their way into the party. Three went in one direction and the other three moved towards Robert and Monique. Even the kids stopped playing. Everyone seemed to part in order to make a path for the royal six as they walked around. You could feel a palpable mixture of awe and angst as they mingled. Some people were clearly not too happy about these guys showing up and yet there were many that excitedly gathered around to follow and welcome them.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe it,” whispered Robert.
“What...What’s wrong, Bobby?” asked Monique, standing up from where she’d been leaning over to talk to little Martin.
“It’s Troy...or Nelson...whatever he’s calling himself now,” Robert said as he mindlessly turned a burger over.
“You mean your Troy, the yellow notebook Troy?” Monique asked.
“Yep, Mertle told me he got out of prison a couple of months ago. But I haven’t seen him since then. By the looks of the way he seems to be parting the sea, he’s here for a reason.”
“Bobby, he seems to be walking right towards us.”
“Yeah, it’s okay, Mon.” Robert looked at little Martin, who was still waiting for his burger. “Hey, Martin, is your mom coming soon?”
“She said to go back home after I get something to eat,” Martin said.
“Okay, my man, only two minutes left, okay?” Robert looked up from the grill; Troy’s eyes met his.
Troy was only eighteen but had the kind of presence that gave off the impression of someone much older. His deep set eyes could either be menacing or have the look of one with undeniable purpose. Beside Troy were two younger kids that walked with an almost synchronized swagger and they tilted their heads in an obvious rehearsed attitude. There wasn’t anything natural about them. One could see they were gangsters in the making and Troy was their teacher.
“RobertO...nice to see you.” Troy spoke as if the two had been old friends. There wasn’t any of that attitude Robert had seen him show in prison. He didn’t need it because here he was a king; all that attitude was left for the young guards in training. The two mini-gangsters eyed Robert with a healthy disdain.
But the way Troy had spoken and welcomed Robert eased Monique’s worry, so she spoke with a smile. “Troy, it’s so great to finally meet you.”
Troy just tilted his head and gave Monique a sinuous wink. Robert quickly chimed in, “It’s Nelson, love...Nelson! Hey, Nelson, I’d like you to meet my wife, Monique.”
“Hey, you did well for yourself, Roberto.” Troy purposely made an effort to slowly look Monique up and down.
“I like what you’re doing for my people, Mr. Sanchez. I like this...” Troy said as he looked down the street and the party was slowly getting back to normal. “Yeah, you did good...and who’s this little man?”
“That’s Martin and his brother, Luther. They are just waiting for their food which is—ah, finally ready!” Robert said as he started to put the burger into a bun and handed it to Martin. “Here you go, Martin!”
“No, that’s okay. He can have mine...I can wait,” said Martin pointing at Troy to take his burger. It was painful to witness the fear that little boy had for Troy. Why did he even think he should fear him? Robert wondered.
Troy reached out for the burger and snatched it from Robert’s hand and said, “No way, Martin, this is yours. You gotta take what’s yours...Okay? You gotta learn to do that, okay?”
“Okay,” Martin said in his smallest voice. But as Troy leaned down to hand the burger to Martin, it was impossible for him to take it and hold his brother at the same time.
Monique saw this and reacted. “Here, let me take little Luther and hold him while you eat your hamburger.”
But Troy handed the burger to one of his young henchman and commanded, “Hold this.” Then he reached down towards Martin and took Luther from his hands. “Us brothers have to stick together. Give him his food, Dog.” Troy’s henchman quickly obeyed and handed the burger to Martin.
Troy held Luther with one arm and rubbed the little baby’s head with the other.
“What’d ya say his name was?”
Martin, who had not touched his burger, answered him. “Luther...his name is Luther.”
“Martin and Luther...” laughed Troy. “What’s your daddy’s name, King? Ha ha...” Troy laughed out loud and the two henchmen awkwardly joined in and laughed as well.
Troy quickly shut them up. “Do you even know why I said that?”
The henchmen lost all their attitude and looked sheepish for a moment until one said, “‘cause you said king...and...well, look at the kid, he’s kind of dressed like a bum?”
“Shut it!” snapped Troy. “Martin Luther King was The Man, he...”
Pop! Pop! Pop! Troy froze as he instinctively squeezed Luther to his chest. At first it sounded as if the kids were popping some of the balloons that were tied to the fence, but as the fourth pop sounded, screams filled the air. Suddenly, as if a tornado had hit, waves of people were running scared in every direction.
Jenny came running frantically towards her parents in a fearful panic. “Daddy, someone’s been shot...People are shooting...”
Then the sound of a motorbike came roaring down the street, weaving its way through the throngs of people. Within seconds, it came closer and closer, driving directly at them. The driver reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun.
“Down! Down!” Robert screamed. In one motion, he pushed Monique to the ground and then grabbed Jenny and Martin by the wrists and yanked them down behind the barbecue. Jenny let out a painful cry as she hit the concrete. Robert lay straddled over Jenny and Monique, who had pulled Martin as close to her as humanly possible.
Pop! Pop! Pop! The popping got louder and faster as the motorcycle gunman fired towards them. It was complete hysteria! People were still running crazy, hiding in every little place they could find.
The whole incident took maybe twelve seconds. Little Martin was curled up in a ball in Monique’s arms. Robert held all three of them tightly.
The sound of the motorbike disappeared as quickly as it came.
He looked into Jenny’s terrified eyes. “Baby, are you okay?” Robert whispered.
“Just my arm, Daddy. It’s
okay, I just hit the sidewalk.”
The entire neighbourhood was completely still. There was no movement from anyone. Robert helped Monique sit up. Martin clung on to her. “Heart, are you all right?”
She nodded slowly to say she was okay. But as she stared straight ahead, the look in her eyes—that look that can mark a life forever, made Robert turn to see what she saw.
There, four feet in front of the barbecue lay three bodies: the two young henchmen, their bodies all twisted in awkward positions and showing no signs of life and between them, Troy, lying face down.
“My brother...Where’s my brother?” Martin cried. He jumped up, but Robert quickly stopped him from running into the street, for fear that someone might still be shooting. “Shhh...hang on, Martin...You wait here, I’ll go check on your brother.”
Monique took Martin’s hand and hugged Jenny. Robert dragged himself around the barbecue towards Troy, using his elbows to pull himself forward, as if he was a soldier moving behind enemy lines.
Troy moved his head and moaned.
“Don’t move!” Robert whispered loudly. “I’m coming to you.”
Robert looked around as he crawled. The street had become a war zone. He could see the terrified faces of mothers and children hiding in their own private foxholes, behind fire hydrants, picnic benches, barbecues, behind cars and fence posts. No one moved, afraid that the slightest movement might cause more gunfire.
“Don’t move, Nelson, just let me see if the baby is okay.”
Robert saw Troy’s face. A large gash was dripping on his forehead and creating a small pool of blood on the ground. He raised his arm, stretching to grab a handful of napkins from the barbecue. When he reached Troy, he put the napkins over his open wound.
“Here, hold these on that cut,” Robert whispered to Troy.
“Now, lift up.”
Troy moaned as he lifted his shoulder. There was tiny Luther! No sound. The baby was lying motionless underneath Troy.
“Just lift up a little more.” Robert reached under Troy and delicately slid the baby towards him. So lifeless! He uncurled the blood soaked blanket from Luther’s body. “Come on, little guy.” Robert touched the baby’s lips. “Come on, little one...Come on...” But Luther didn’t stir.
Seven months later. Robert, Monique, Jenny, Mertle Bolt, her two daughters and many others from the block party that night sat together in the high school’s auditorium with nine hundred other Malvern students. They watched a young man stand alone on a stage and talk about destiny.
“...and when Mr. Sanchez took him, I looked at that baby...he didn’t move. That little kid...so small...he hadn’t even really started living yet...and thank God, hadn’t even started hating yet...but that little...”
Troy started to get a little emotional, and he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt—but tears were not going to stop the words he needed to let go of.
“That little guy had a brother, eight years old and he was there...Yeah, he was there all right. He was lying on the ground crying after all the shooting. And you know what? I knew exactly...I knew exactly what he felt like...
“I was almost the same age when I saw my brother get shot down, right in front of me. I still see it every day, one minute he’s ragging on me about something, and the next second...and I’ll tell you, in one second your whole life can change. Really. I know that now...but you know, sometimes it’s in that split second, that you gotta make a choice. That’s somethin’ I learned: there’s always a choice. Yeah, really! Most of the time you have a choice! My God, your whole destiny is sometimes based on you making one choice...and that’s what I found out that night.
“You see, right after the shooting, the only thought I had was...was vengeance! Yeah, I had murder on my mind, just pure hatred. I wanted to get those guys who did this. I was gonna burn those motherfu...but then, here’s this little kid I was holding. He’s right there in my arms. He was shot...I mean, he’s no bigger than my arm. All I got was a big cut on my head. But this little guy got a bullet in him and he’s bleeding bad and...and his little brother’s now crying—a crying that you feel more than hear...Everything went so fast and suddenly there are ambulances and cops all over. They rushed the baby and me into an ambulance. They thought I was his father or something. And they’re asking me a lot of questions. But my head was just filled with how to get even, but then the baby’s mother showed up and she was screaming. One guy patched me up real fast while the other guy was hooking that little baby to all these machines and they’re telling me this baby’s going to die. He needs blood...I yell to them...well give it to ‘im. They say he’ll never make it to the hospital...and I say then give him blood here...but they say they can’t...they don’t have any...and it’s against procedure...Then the baby’s mother comes into the ambulance, yelling with all her life, ‘Save my baby...just please save my baby’...and then one of the paramedics...he tells his partner...don’t worry...and he’s asking about the baby’s blood type...What’s his blood type?...The baby’s mother, she yelled over and over, ‘B negative! B negative!’ She kept repeating it until I just said, ‘That’s me, too...’ ‘Are you sure, sir? Are you sure?’ The paramedics are yelling at each other...and one just says ‘You don’t even know if this guy’s blood is clean...” I tell them I have to do blood tests every month because of my probation...and they ask the mother...she looks at me and she says ‘I trust you...Please save my baby.’
“And there I was, blinded with this burning desire to take down some lives that night, to get revenge. But as I looked at this kid all hooked up to these machines, looking so small...and in all that commotion—it was weird—cause in my head I just kept repeating this one question...”
Troy stopped. Wiped his face once more.
“All I’m thinking is...is this his life? And in that second, it hit me. About the same split second it took to wipe my brother from the face of this earth, I thought if only there was someone there that day that could’ve made a choice to save my brother, maybe by doing something like just pushing him down, or even maybe the guy who shot him, that he would choose to not shoot my brother...save him instead...And it was in that moment I made a choice. I thought I could do that...
“I could be the guy who didn’t shoot.
“I could be the guy that’s gonna save that guy I was going to get even with...
“I could be the guy...and save this kid...
“It took a few minutes and then they hooked up this tube, hooked my blood to his, and suddenly the kid was crying, his brother was crying, his mother was crying...but a crying I’m not used to hearing. It was like, joyful crying. Probably for the first time ever, I started to cry too. But mine wasn’t joyful, though. Mine was like...a cleaning out. All the shit...Sorry about that word...All that anger and hate that I had built up inside of me, garbage kind of stuff that I chose to keep inside me. Seeing that mother hug her two little boys...well, then I started to cry it all out of me. Guess I still am ‘cause I’ve done lots of things I ain’t too proud of. I mean here’s this paramedic risking his job, doing something he might get fired for...and that mother...they both trusting me...trusting me...ME?
“Anyway, there were tons of people all watching from outside the back of the ambulance and when they heard that baby cry, they all just busted into a cheer and for once in my life, I made a choice that caused somebody to cheer!
“But I wasn’t no hero. Two of those kids that were with me that night, they were shot. They died ‘cause they were with me...They died because they chose to be with me. And I was leading them.”
Troy took a couple of steps to the edge of the stage to get as close to the audience as possible
“Is that what I wanted to do? It’s crazy, you know. But somehow this made me realize I actually had a choice of what I could be. So I asked myself: is that what I wanted to be? This kind of leader? Someone who led people towards their deaths? To drugs? Led them into a hopeless world?”
Ah, my love...I don’t
know if I ever told you this. I know you and Little Rock went through a lot with me, especially with Troy and...
“Wait a second, Jenny.” Kyle stopped reading and looked at her. “Oh, my God! You were there too?”
“It’s okay, Kyle. My dad would never have let anything happen to us.”
“Yeah, but you actually saw people get shot! You could’ve been killed!”
Jenny kissed Kyle’s cheek. “It’s okay, baby...Please, could you read some more?”
Jenny looked calm but inside, she felt time was moving too slowly. She needed to get to her father. She looked down at her watch. Only twenty minutes had passed. Jenny couldn’t shake the thought of her father having bought a gun. Why did he need this gun?
“Oh,” she sighed.
If only this plane could go faster...faster...faster than a speeding bullet, to save her father.
25. 4 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
“Is anything wrong?” Monique was standing at Seema’s door.
Seema lifted the light blue scarf off her head and lowered it to her shoulders.
“Benny said you wanted to see me after I dropped Robert off. Is there something wrong?”
“No, no, Mrs. Sanchez, everything is fine. Please, could you close the door and sit down. And please, don’t worry. Really, I just thought it had been a while since we last spoke and if you had a couple minutes this morning, we could connect.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.” Monique closed the door. As she walked to the chair, she stopped to look out the window.
“A nice view you have here.”
Seema chuckled slightly. Monique noticed her smiling and asked, “Is that funny?”
“I’m sorry, no it’s not funny; it’s just...well, I smile because that’s the first thing your husband does every time he comes into this room. He looks out that window. Oh please, would you like to take off your coat, Mrs. Sanchez?”
Monique put her purse on the floor beside the chair in front of the desk and then unbuttoned the dark blue trench coat she had on. “Thanks, but I’ll just open it. I’ve still got a bit of a chill.”
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