Impossible

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Impossible Page 5

by Jocelyn Shipley


  I log off, relieved to have finally done the right thing. Razor will suspect me, but he won’t know for sure. And he’ll probably rat on the shooter. Cut a deal to get a shorter sentence. But at least he’ll be charged.

  Hopefully, he’ll be behind bars until Violet’s a little older. Old enough to decide for herself if she wants to see him or not.

  The memorial is starting soon, so I change Violet and put her in her cutest dress. It’s pink and purple, all swirls and ruffles. Then I choose a white skirt with black flowers for myself and a black T-shirt with beading around the neck.

  I put Violet in her stroller and take the elevator downstairs. People are gathering in the lobby and making their way to the common room. The media is gathered outside the building again, but only one reporter and photographer are allowed inside. I keep well away from them.

  The photos of Kwame and the memorabilia have been moved into the common room. There’s a podium with a microphone set up in the middle. Huge flower arrangements stand all around, giving off an overpowering smell of lilies.

  The Mensahs are greeting everyone at the door. I can’t avoid them any longer.

  Mr. Mensah, who was so together on the TV clip, looks totally destroyed. It’s his wife, Amadi, who’s acting strong today. She’s wearing a bright orange- and-red dress with a lacy gold shawl and the necklace Betty made. She’s standing tall and proud, like she owes it to Kwame to survive this.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I say, shaking Mr. Mensah’s hand and hugging Amadi. “Kwame was such a great kid. We really liked him a lot. Oh, and Wade sends his condolences too. He had to work today, or you know he’d be here.”

  Violet is holding the rattle Kwame gave her, so I add, “Kwame found that for her at Swap Day, and she just loves it. It’s her favorite toy.”

  If only I could tell them that they might have some answers soon. But I just say again how sorry I am.

  I see Betty waving madly from across the already very crowded room. She’s saved me a seat on the aisle so I can park the stroller beside me. “Well, I better go sit down.”

  Kwame’s uncle welcomes everyone and says a few words about his nephew. Then some of Kwame’s friends speak, including the girl I saw putting flowers on the shrine on the street. Finally Amadi comes up to the podium.

  “We thank you all for being here with us today,” she begins. “And we thank you for your support and kindness at this difficult time. Your generous donations to Kwame’s memorial fund are most appreciated.”

  She stops and stares out at the crowd. “But now I must ask you. Who knows the truth? Who knows what happened to our boy?” Her voice rises. She looks like she’s on fire in her bright dress. “We beg you, please! Somebody saw something! Please, please, end our suffering! Tell us what you know!”

  I’m so glad I decided to contact the police. And I desperately hope Razor’s already in custody.

  Kwame’s uncle invites everyone to come and help themselves to the lovely spread of food and drinks. Violet has fallen asleep in her stroller. “If you watch her,” I tell Betty, “I’ll go get us a cup of tea.”

  There’s a long line for the refreshments. When I finally get back to our seats with tea and a paper plate loaded with cookies, the ground goes out from under me.

  Violet’s stroller is empty.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Betty!” I shriek. “Where’s Violet?”

  Betty points across the room. “Nice girl have her.”

  “What?” I drop the tea, and it spills all over the floor. “Who, Betty? Who has her?” I don’t see anyone holding my Violet.

  “Your friend Sierra.”

  “I don’t know any Sierra.”

  But Razor does.

  God, I’m so stupid. He never had any intention of keeping his word.

  Of course he’d send his new girl. She’s probably really young. No one would suspect her of being anything other than a friend of Kwame’s. And she’d do whatever Razor told her to. Even abduct Violet to scare the shit out of me.

  Which totally worked.

  I was right not to trust him.

  Betty squints and shakes her head. “But she say she your friend.”

  “Well, she’s not!” And to think I felt sorry for Sierra! I search the room madly. No luck. Remembering the reporters waiting outside, I head for the back door.

  A black SUV is pulling away as I race out. I watch, helpless, as it disappears up the side street.

  And then I’m running, faster than I ever have in my life.

  I could phone, but it’s only four blocks to the cop shop. Faster to run. I’m totally out of breath when I get through the doors, but still I scream, “Help! Help! Help! My baby’s been abducted!”

  I tell them about Razor and the shooter, about the online form, about the memorial and Sierra. It all comes out in a breathless jumble.

  So much for staying anonymous.

  But finding Violet is way more important.

  The cops issue an Amber Alert.

  A female officer who introduces herself as Paige asks me to go through everything again, slowly this time. She tells me they’re already looking for Razor’s vehicle. I see several officers putting on bulletproof vests and heading for their squad cars.

  There’s no way I’m sitting around the station, waiting. “Let me go with them,” I beg, clinging to Paige’s arm. “Please, you have to let me help find my baby.”

  “No, you need to stay here and make a complete statement to one of our officers,” she says. “That’s the best thing you can do to help your baby.”

  “I’ll do that later,” I say. “Violet’s going to be so scared. She’ll need me!”

  “No,” Paige says again.

  “What if they have to negotiate? They’ll want me for that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you a mom, Paige?”

  She gives me a suspicious look, like she knew I’d ask that. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Would you wait at the station?”

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “But would you?”

  She gives me another look and repeats, “This isn’t about me.”

  “But if it was,” I say, “what would you do? Wait at the station? Or go help rescue your baby?”

  “Okay, okay,” she finally says. “But you do exactly what I tell you to.”

  Then I’m in the back of a cruiser. Paige and I are screeching out of the parking lot with sirens on and lights flashing.

  I’ve never ridden in a vehicle going so fast. We head north on the expressway. Cars pull over so we can pass.

  I cling to my door handle. I can’t stop shaking. My heart wants to jump right out of my throat.

  Is Violet crying? Is Sierra holding her tight? “Omigod,” I gasp. “What if they crash? She’s not in a car seat!”

  Paige turns to face me. “Please,” she says. “Let the professionals handle this.”

  “I don’t even own a car seat!” Like that’s what really matters now.

  “It’s okay,” Paige says. “We’re going to get your baby back.” But she doesn’t sound all that sure. And her expression is grim.

  She faces forward again, listens to some staticky words coming over the radio, then says, “Copy that.” She turns back to me with a relieved smile. “Good news! The vehicle’s been spotted!”

  And then we’re going even faster.

  In two minutes we’re pulling over beside three other squad cars. They’ve got a black SUV surrounded on the shoulder of the road.

  “Stay in the car,” Paige says.

  Of course I don’t. I leap out and run right up to the SUV.

  But Violet’s not there.

  Sierra and Razor aren’t there either.

  There’s only an older couple wearing matching wildlife T-shirts. They stand by the roadside with their hands in the air, looking ready to have matching heart attacks. Not guilty of anything but driving a black SUV with a similar license plate.

  Ba
ck at the squad car, Paige says, “We’re going to check out Razor’s place.”

  We speed on up the expressway. “Hurry, hurry!” I whack the back of the seat and stamp my feet on the floor as if I can make the car go faster.

  Paige turns and says, “Jemma. Please calm down. We’ve got this.”

  I take some deep breaths, but it doesn’t help much. I can only pray that Violet’s okay. That she’s at Razor’s place. Because if she’s not, how will we ever find her?

  We exit and head east into a quiet suburb. We can’t drive as fast on the residential streets, so even though it’s not far, it seems to take forever to reach Razor’s house.

  “Here?” Paige says when we pull up out front. The grass is cut, and there are hanging baskets full of flowers on the porch. Kids are riding bikes and skateboards on the sidewalk and playing basketball next door.

  “Yeah.” It looks like the typical suburban home. You’d never know what really goes on inside. Bad memories threaten to overwhelm me. But I have to stay focused. “He has the whole neighborhood fooled.”

  Paige shrugs and says, “Things aren’t always what they seem. You stay here.”

  I try to open my door, but this time she’s locked me in.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I bang on the window, but Paige doesn’t look back.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

  Several more police vehicles pull up. Cops in swat gear spill out and surround the house. Point their guns at the door and every window.

  One of them uses a megaphone to call out a warning.

  I kick at the squad-car door. Bang on the window. “Let me out! Please! Let me out!”

  Nobody pays any attention. They can’t even hear me. The windows are all closed up tight.

  I’m going to explode with fury. Or faint from heat. I’m soaked with sweat, and there’s not enough air.

  Hope they don’t forget I’m in here.

  Then I see Razor stride out of the house. With Violet in his arms. And a knife to her back.

  “Hey!” I yell, waving madly. “Bring her here!”

  He wouldn’t cut his own baby, would he? But it’s Razor. He’d do anything!

  Violet looks okay though. She’s still so trusting of strangers that she’s not fussing about someone she doesn’t know holding her. It’s a relief to see she’s got Kwame’s rattle in her hand. And that she doesn’t seem aware of the knife.

  The cop with the megaphone puts his gun down. He walks slowly forward, with his empty hands raised in plain sight.

  Razor marches down the steps. Says something to the cop. The cop confers with Paige.

  Paige shakes her head. They talk some more. Then she shrugs and runs back to the squad car.

  “I don’t agree with this,” she says as she frees me. “But he says he’ll only talk to you.”

  I gulp for air and follow Paige. In the next few minutes, everything could work out. Or go totally wrong.

  “Hey, Razor,” I say. I make myself sound meek and submissive, the way he likes. I don’t speak to Violet or look directly at her. I’m scared that eye contact or the sound of my voice might make her reach for me. And that then, if I don’t take her, she’ll start to fuss. I need her to stay still and keep playing with her rattle. “Thanks for bringing her out.”

  “Yeah? Well, thanks for ratting me out,” he says. “Bitch. Can’t believe you did that. We had a deal. You swore on our kid.”

  “Wait. What? You’re the one who broke the deal. You promised you’d leave us alone, but you sent your girlfriend to steal my baby.”

  “Fuckin’ hell I did,” he says. “Sierra acted on her own. She just showed up here with the kid! I told you she’s insanely jealous. She wanted to make trouble for me to prove her point.”

  Really? Should I believe him? It doesn’t matter now. “That’s okay,” I say. “I won’t press charges. Just please give me my baby back.”

  Violet shakes her rattle and smiles at it. Sticks it in her mouth.

  “Put the knife down,” the cop with the megaphone says.

  Razor doesn’t.

  “Please,” I beg him. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  “Don’t want to,” he says. “But see, now we got a situation. You brought the cops here.”

  “Put the knife down,” the cop repeats. “Now.”

  “Take me instead,” I say to Razor. “I’ll move back in and do whatever you want, but please, please, please, just let her go.”

  Razor smirks. “Nice try.” He moves the knife closer to Violet’s neck and says to the cop, “I wanna negotiate first. What do I get for cooperating?”

  Violet drops her rattle. She squirms in Razor’s arms and sees the knife. She smiles and reaches for it like it’s a toy.

  Razor swears and drops the knife.

  There’s an instant of stunned silence.

  Then Violet starts to kick and howl.

  I quickly grab her as the cops move in to take Razor down.

  “Hey, hey, best little girl in the world,” I comfort her as I burst into tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mama’s here now.”

  I can hardly hold her, I’m crying so hard. But Violet clings on like she’s just figured out the danger she was in.

  As the cops lead Razor to a squad car, he yells, “I didn’t break our deal, Jem. And I still want visiting rights. I want to know my kid.”

  I can’t even. I have no words. I just sob and clutch Violet to me like I’ll never let her go.

  “You okay?” Paige asks.

  I watch as the squad car takes Razor away. “I am now.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paige picks up the rattle and holds the mirror so Violet can peek into it. Violet giggles at her reflection. And then I’m telling Paige about Kwame, and how he gave the rattle to Violet.

  “Wow. That’s so sad,” she says.

  “Yeah. Sometimes life really sucks.”

  “I know,” she says. “Man, do I know. But you and your beautiful baby are safe now. You can move on.”

  “I guess.” I stroke Violet’s hair and kiss her cheeks and tell her, “Oh, you are the best little girl in the world.” Then I turn to Paige. “I don’t want to go to court though. I can’t testify against Razor.”

  “Don’t worry,” she says. “It probably won’t come to that. His lawyer will cut a deal to avoid a trial. But he and the shooter will both go away for a long time.” She steers me to a squad car. “You should go home and relax. Is there someone you can call?”

  “Yeah, my brother.”

  I text Wade on the way back to the station, and he’s there waiting for us. Apparently, he kicked everybody out of the Bean Leaf and put up the Closed sign.

  He doesn’t give me hell. We both know there’ll be lots of time for explanations, so he doesn’t even ask any questions. He just holds me and Violet tight.

  When I’m finished giving my full statement to the cops, Wade says, “Let’s go home.”

  Since we live so close by, we don’t need a ride. And we don’t want to be dropped off at Woodley Co-op in a police car anyway. Don’t want the media or nosy residents to see that.

  Wade didn’t think to retrieve the stroller from the common room, so I carry Violet in my arms. She snuggles close to me, making those sweet mmmmm sounds I’m sure mean “mama.” My mind races as we walk, trying to process everything that’s happened.

  But that’s going to take a while. Even locked up, Razor will haunt me for a long time yet. Probably forever. Because apart from anything that happened between us, he’s still Violet’s dad. I have to accept and deal with that.

  Should I believe him about Sierra acting on her own? I’d like to, for Violet’s sake. Then someday, when I have to explain things to her, I’ll be able to say he kept his word. He honored our deal because he wanted to have contact with her. And when she reached for the knife, he dropped it so she wouldn’t get hurt.

  We’ll see how it goes.

  But Paige is right. For now we’re safe, and that
’s all that matters.

  As we cross the park in front of our building, I remember the party last Saturday night. The night I foolishly left Violet alone and went to the store. Seems like weeks or months ago, not just four days.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell Wade. “I’ll explain everything when we get home. I mean, if you don’t have to go back to work.”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “If I can’t find somebody to cover for me, we’ll just stay closed.”

  “You’re not going to like what you hear.”

  “Figured that out already.” He stops short and points to a TV crew camped outside the front of our building. “Great. They’re still here.” We turn and go around to the back.

  I’m not sure if the reporters are waiting for the Mensahs or me or all of us. But I know it’s only a matter of time before my past with Razor hits the news. And the Internet.

  Still, as long as Violet’s here with me, who really cares? Some things can never be undone. We just have to find a way to live with the messy consequences. In my head I practice saying, No comment. Please respect our privacy. No comment.

  We take the stairs because we don’t want to meet anybody in the elevator. Wade offers to carry Violet up, but I’m not letting go. I hug her close to my heart.

  Wade unlocks our apartment and opens the door for us. “Christ, it’s hot in here. We gotta get that air conditioner fixed.”

  “Yeah, really,” I say as he pours us some cold drinks and makes up Violet’s bottle. Then we sit together on the sofa while I feed her.

  I start at the beginning. It takes a while. It’s hard to talk about what I witnessed and even harder to admit what I did. But I give him all the details.

  “Forgive me?” I ask when I’m done.

  Wade shrugs and gets up to start dinner. He doesn’t speak for a long time. But finally he says, “I’m just glad you’re both okay. And you’ll never do something so stupid again, right?” His parental tone is so comforting.

 

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