by Aliyah Burke
“Well, why would they do that if they came here together?” the deputy asked stupidly.
“I’m sorry but did I say I was in on the plan? Or this is what I saw?” Kyleigh snarled. “Why the hell would I know why they were shooting each other?”
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to settle down! I don’t want to have to restrain you,” the deputy replied.
“'Settle down'? Really? Three people broke into my house and set it on fire and then one shot the other. I call you people and work to save his life and I’m handcuffed sitting on a curb, with my friends, and you need me to calm down?” Kyleigh raged. “I’m going to need you to kiss my ass, Barney Fife, and call my team of lawyers while you are at it!”
Kyleigh was officially pissed off. Her beautiful house was on fire. One of the three people who’d started the fire was bleeding out on her lawn and this idiot cop was displaying all of his idiot for all to see. Like Paityn, Kyleigh didn’t look for trouble or confrontation, but like Olivia she didn’t back down from anyone’s bullshit. She knew in this country your color really only mattered if you didn’t have a certain amount of money. She didn’t know if this bumpkin realized it or not but her house was owned not rented, so he really didn’t want to try the limits of her patience.
“Um… sir?” Olivia started. “When you start shooting us while handcuffed because you are afraid for your life, can you start with her?” pointing at Kyleigh.
“I will pass on that this evening. I’m gonna have the hang-over from hell in a couple hours. Maybe some other time,” Paityn squeaked.
“Alright, Deputy Tyler, I’ll take it from here,” the next law enforcement officer said tapping Deputy Tyler on his back to send him on his way. “Ladies, my name is Sheriff Riley. I apologize for Deputy Tyler. I wanted to check and make sure you ladies are ok, and that you don’t need any medical attention.”
Sheriff Riley helped them to stand up and took the handcuffs off the ladies, sending the other deputies that had been standing over them with their hands on their guns like security guards away to collect evidence or do something useful.
“We’re fine,” they all said simultaneously, rubbing their wrists.
“How’s the boy?” Paityn asked.
“How old is he?” Olivia asked.
Kyleigh was staring at her beautiful home as fire and smoke billowed from it. She’d moved to Greensboro a little over three years before. She bought this house at a steal because it’d been destroyed in a tornado. She had just finally been able to move in six months before.
Greensboro was definitely what most would call Small Town America, including the five thousand person population, and the five block downtown, to the white people that stared at her like she was Frank from the movie Men in Black whenever she was out and about.
The first week in her home, she’d had the police called on her three times while trying to garden. One of her neighbors had called the police saying some black woman was vandalizing her neighbor’s yard.
It wasn’t until Kyleigh had threatened to sue the police department that they’d finally explained that she was the owner of the home and they had to stop calling in false police reports.
Just when she thought things were getting better for her, there was this.
“From my understanding, the boy is twelve years old. They’ve rushed him to the hospital. Hopefully, he will be ok,” the sheriff was saying snapping Kyleigh out of her daydream.
“Whoa!” Kyleigh grimaced. “Did you say he’s twelve years old?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the sheriff replied tilting his hat back on his head. “Karson Nicholas Patton, twelve years old in the sixth grade.”
“Oh my God,” Paityn whispered placing her hand over her mouth.
“Well, does his family… I mean do his parents know what happened?” Kyleigh asked. She hadn’t pulled the trigger but was indeed a victim in this situation. But for some reason she felt very guilty.
“My deputies are doing everything that is necessary for the young man, ma’am,” Sheriff Riley replied.
“Please stop calling me 'ma’am'!” Kyleigh demanded, rolling her eyes. Her mother had once told her 'ma’am' was another way of someone calling you a bitch. She’d discovered over the years that was closer to fact than fiction. “My name is Kyleigh. You are welcome to call me by my name.”
“My apologies,” the sheriff conceded. “Kyleigh, I don’t want you to worry about any of that. You have been through a lot. I promise we will find his accomplices no matter what happens to him.”
“Well, that’s reassuring. You are going to be hunting down the kids from the Little Rascals,” Oliva mumbled.
“They may be children in age, but they did a very adult thing this evening. Just take a look at your friend's home,” the sheriff replied. “Kyleigh, do you need one of my deputies to take you somewhere, a hotel or a friend’s home?”
'Where was the concern for the children? Have we all become so jaded, nothing matters anymore?' Kyleigh could not get over how blasé they were being about a twelve year old getting shot while setting someone's house on fire. What had happened in that boy's life that brought him where he was? He’d looked like a scared little angel lying in her arms bleeding. She could see the fear in his eyes. Now, she could imagine what his mother and father must be going through learning their son may die.
'No,' she thought to herself. 'I don’t care if the world is; I’m not.'
“No, thank you, sheriff. My car's over there. Come on guys, let's go.”
As they walked toward her car, Olivia looked at her friend. She knew Kyleigh, she knew all she was thinking about was the little boy and if his life was going to end tonight. Her house could burn down ten times over for all she cared. But, a kid dying, that was not something that would sit well with Kyleigh. It was one of the things she loved about her and that drove her crazy. She asked the question although she knew the answer. “We’re going to that hospital, aren’t we?”
“Yup!” was all Kyleigh said, as she strode to her Mercedes.
Chapter Two
Jesse pulled up to the hospital on his Harley Davidson i200 custom bike. Jumping off his bike, he ran to the hospital through the emergency entrance, looking for someone he knew.
Jesse Patton, named after his daddy, Jesse Sr., was a former lieutenant in the Army. He’d finished his last deployment six months ago, and returned home to help his dad with the family business, Patton Construction; which hadn’t been doing so well for years because of the emergence of some huge construction conglomerate called Cantrell Construction Group.
Cantrell Construction was based in Illinois, and it was one of the top ten construction companies in the country. It was young compared to some of its fellow top-tenner's, but had quickly expanded, working on several high-profile projects in the last decade, including Ascot Racecourse and Heathrow Airport Terminal 5. Overseas, it is currently involved in the huge Al Raha beach development in Abu Dhabi. From what Jesse knew, the company was being run by some black chick; an affirmative action hire he was sure.
He shook those thoughts out of his head as soon as he thought them. This town was starting to seep back in again. If there was one thing Greensboro didn’t have it was diverse thinking.
With all that work, they’d come to town and outbid his father's company on some small but lucrative local construction deals that had caused them to have to lay off fifteen guys.
First, he’d lost his younger brother in Afghanistan to a roadside bomb, leaving his nephew without a father. Tony had been ten years younger than Jesse, and a miracle to his mother and father. Their parents had been told they would more than likely never have any more children after Jesse. His mom's ovaries didn’t work the way they should, so while one year at his mother's yearly check-up, the doctor had told they she was about ten weeks pregnant. They’d been sure it was God's way of blessing them.
Tony was the star of the family. They’d all babied him. Anything he wanted or needed, he had three people at
his beck and call. Through all of that he’d come out to be a selfless and loving man. Raising his son on his own, serving his country, Jesse had looked up more to his little brother than the other way around. The day Jesse's C.O. had come up to him in that godforsaken desert and told him his brother had been killed had been the worst day of his life, and had changed all the plans he’d made for his future; to being the father and son for his nephew and the parent that Tony would have been.
Now, he’d gotten a call that his nephew had been shot in the backyard of one of the mansions over on Crestview Lane. Already he was failing his brother. Karson was a handful. He wasn’t the three year old who wanted to play cops and robbers with his water gun anymore; he was an angry pre-teen who lost his dad just when he needed him the most. He’d been ten when Tony died. Old enough to remember what it was like to have someone as amazing as Tony as a father, but too young to have learned how to be a man; things he would carry into adulthood. Now Jesse was trying his damndest to be the man his little brother had been for him, and was failing miserably.
“I’m here for…. Mom, Mom, how is he?” Jesse stammered, spotting his mother.
His mother ran into his arms dissolving into tears. If Karson died, his mother would never recover. He didn’t know if he would either.
They walked back into the family waiting room she’d come out of.
“He’s in surgery but the doctors think he will be fine. The bullet missed all his major arteries and he was stabilizing quite nicely when they took him in,” his mom rambled.
“Oh thank God!” Jesse exclaimed relieved. “What the hell is going on? Mom said he was breaking into someone's house?”
Just as his father was about to explain, the sheriff came walking into the waiting room with three black women who none of them had ever seen before.
“Uhh hey, Mr. Patton, Mrs. Patton, Jesse,” the sheriff said taking off his hat.
“Sheriff,” the Patton’s said simultaneously.
Jesse and Angela Patton had both been born and raised in Greensboro. They’d met and fell in love in high school and married the moment Jesse had gotten through training camp.
They’d been married for fifty years and were considered pillars of their community. Angela had been an at-home wife and mother her entire adult life and loved every minute of it. They’d had two sons, who both had gone into the Army fresh out of high school. They were strong talented young men, and Angela was proud to say she was their mother.
Jesse had started his construction company twenty-five years ago after being honorably discharged and ran the business with the hopes his boys would take over one day.
A war no one understood and radical Muslims had destroyed all that one day when they’d set off a roadside bomb killing their youngest son instantly.
Angela and Jesse had been devastated, yet grateful that had their grandson to love and take care of. Karson was their sweet angel. He looked and acted just like his father in his grandparents' eyes. They held onto him to get through their grief. If he died, who would they hold onto then?
Karson was a lot like his father, curious, mischievous and a handful. He was a sweet, bright boy who’d never been in any trouble until his father died; thirty days before he was supposed to come home for good. Now, he was angry at the world and was acting out every chance he got.
“This is Ms. Mohammed. It was her house Karson broke into and set on fire,” the sheriff mumbled.
“FIRE!” Angela screamed cupping her mouth. “Oh dear God!”
When people that knew Angela thought of her, most of them pictured Mrs. Potts from Beauty And The Beast. She was quiet, never really had a bad thing to say about anyone, and could be called upon for help any time, day or night. She was the church secretary and arranged the town's Onion Festival every year. She was the town's little old nice lady that you see in the movies. Her multi-colored floral dresses that she made by hand herself and long sleek straight gray hair she kept pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck placed her even further into that role. But if there was one thing Angela wasn’t, it was unwelcoming. Her husband usually took care of that and Angela was an old fashioned wife. She would never speak out of turn.
“Who are you?” Jesse Sr. huffed at the women. “How do you know my grandson? What have you done to him?”
“EXCUSE ME?” Olivia yelled, instantly mad. She knew they shouldn’t have come down here with these people.
The tension in the room had been immediate the moment they’d all walked into the waiting room. 'Brown skin not wanted' might as well have been tattooed on their foreheads. The Patton family had instantly tensed at the mention of Kyleigh’s name.
“Your hooligan broke into my friend's $10 million home and destroyed part of it, and you have an attitude with her?” Oliva went on.
“My grandson is not a hooligan!” Jesse Sr. barked. “How dare you! Who do you think you are, gal? You don’t know better than to talk to a man that way?”
Olivia started to take the earring out of her right ear. “Sheriff, you are going to want to get out your cuffs and your gun because you are about to need them,” Olivia raged.
“Well, your grandson damn sure ain’t Smoky the Bear! Because he was out there staring fires, not preventing them! For all he knew, there was someone in that house he could have killed!”
The sheriff stood between them, encouraging Olivia to calm down. Jesse stood back watching these women wondering, first of all who they were. He’d never seen them before which meant they hadn’t lived in town long, and secondly why his nephew would have chosen her house to break into and set on fire.
“Olivia, please!” Kyleigh pleaded, embarrassed. Although Mr. Patton was a jerk. He was irrelevant to her. “Mr. and Mrs. Patton, I didn’t come here to cause you any more stress than you are already under. I just came to see if your grandson was ok. I had no idea he was so young in the dark of my back yard where he was shot. I know how devastated you must be.”
“What the hell do you think you know?” Mr. Patton said. “You know, I swear, there should be a town vote on who we allow to move into this town! It would keep out the riff-raff.”
He stared at Kyleigh, Olivia, and Paityn with the racial disgust that, as black women, they’d seen time and time again.
Kyleigh could see out of the corner of her eye, Olivia had her hand balled into fists. Olivia didn’t care; race, sex, religion, age, if you crossed the line with her, which was easy to do, she was ready to use her fists to prove her point. Kyleigh was more of on low boiling, but ready to 'rip you a new one if need be' type of lady.
“Look, Mr. Patton, right?” Kyleigh started. “I get that you are scared, and I get that you are angry, but I didn’t shoot your grandson, and I’m not the problem. If you ask me, the problem, or the question rather, is why he was at my house that time of the night setting it on fire and you didn’t even know where he was.”
“Excuse me! We are good grandparents! Don’t you dare question our love for our grandson! You don’t know us!” Angela sobbed as she raged at Kyleigh.
“Mom, Pop, calm down!” Jesse said pulling his sobbing mother into a bear hug. Jesse was six foot five, blonde hair, blue eyes and built like a brick wall. He looked a lot like the little boy that had bled in Kyleigh’s arms. He was quite sexy to Kyleigh which was a new and unnerving thought for her. “I want to know what he was doing out there. He could really have hurt someone. It’s not her fault, and from the looks of her outfit, she did all she could to help him."
Kyleigh had forgotten that she was covered in Karson’s blood. Paityn took the blanket one of the firemen had given her and draped it on her shoulders to cover her clothes.
“Well, that is kinda why I wanted you to meet the family, Ms. Mohammed,” the sheriff informed. “We’ve spoken to a few of Ms. Mohammed's neighbors and they recall seeing Karson, a young man by the name of Jimmy Johnson and another young man who is only known by the name Fo-wizzle no last name, on Ms. Mohammed's property while there was construction going
on. We were able to pull some police reports from the project manager on the home. It was reported the boys were giving some of the workers a hard time and destroying things on the property.”
“I told you he didn’t need to be hanging around with that Johnson kid!” Jesse spat at his father.
“Now is not the time for your judgement of the members of the Johnson family, Junior!” Jesse Sr. yelled back at his son. “And what in tarnation is a Fo-wizzle?”
“I was sooo hoping one of you would ask, because that question has been running through my brain from the moment he said it,” Paityn chuckled.
“Well, we aren’t sure who he is exactly. We think he lives one town over. We know he’s seventeen and was kicked out of his high school for selling drugs on school grounds. From the descriptions in the police reports and the ones Ms. Mohammed and Ms. Hines gave this evening, it was Jimmy Johnson who shot Karson,” the sheriff explained.
“WHAT?” Jesse Sr. yelled.
“Are we still reserving judgement, Pop?” Jesse Jr. snapped at his father. Running his hands through his hair, Jesse had always hated the Johnson family from the father down to the dogs, but for some stupid reason, his dad had this strange sense of loyalty to them.
“Y’all got some bogus friends,” Olivia mumbled. “It doesn’t look like the black people are your problem today.”
“SHH,” Kyleigh silenced her.
“That’s not the worst of it I’m afraid, folks,” the sheriff went on, taking a deep breath “It seems that from what we’ve been able to find in our investigation, Karson and the other boys went to Ms. Mohammed’s home because she is Muslim.”
“No, I’m not!” Kyleigh interrupted. Where had that come from? Her mother had been Catholic and her father Jewish. No one had ever told her she “looked” Muslim. “Is that why all you people have been treating me like you do since I moved to this town? Because you think by my last name that I’m Muslim?”
