by Kim Jones
“You had another argument with him?” Tommy asked, sympathetically as he ran his hands along the planes of her back, pausing to rub her shoulders, and her lower back.
Aimee’s eyes squeezed shut as he kneaded away the tension. “He’s so stubborn, and he thinks he knows better than anyone else.”
“Most parents think that,” Tommy reminded her, gently.
“I know. It’s just that, for once, I thought he’d listen. I was telling my mom about you, and he overheard, and he went ballistic.”
Tommy’s hands stilled on her back briefly before they resumed. “I’m guessing he wasn’t pleased because of where I come from?”
Aimee brought one hand up to clutch his shirt. “No, he doesn’t, but I don’t care. He doesn’t even know you, so he’s wrong.”
“He’s just trying to look out for you, Aimee,” Tommy whispered into her hair, burying his face in it. “Besides, I’m sure he’ll change his mind when he meets me.”
Aimee pulled back to look at him, giving him a tear strained smile. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
Chapter 8
Tommy rubbed his hands across his face and let out a big yawn, muttering under his breath as his eyes watered. He ran his hands through his hair and reached out for his coffee cup. His hands curled around the mug, and he let the hot steam rise up from the mug and invigorate him.
“What are you doing up so early?”
His mum stood in the kitchen doorway, her robe hanging off her shoulder, her hair sticking out on all ends, and her ears unfocused and bleary. She dragged her hands through her mane, trying to tame it, and she scowled when she couldn’t.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Tommy confessed as he took a sip of the coffee and sighed.
Today was going to be a tough day.
He’d dreamed of identifying his father’s killer for so long, it no longer seemed like reality. In fact, it had long since receded to the back of his mind and became more like a pipe dream. That was the thing about the justice system in this country.
To say it was ineffective was an understatement. Even if they did catch a guy, it was never a guarantee that justice would be served. More often than not, it wasn’t.
Thus, he’d given up on getting justice and instead had contented himself with making peace because it was the only way he could move forward. His mother was a different matter altogether. At first, she’d held onto her steadfast belief that the police would find the killer, and she’d be able to rest easy at night.
In the end, it was Tommy who had to watch the light out of her eyes, growing dimmer with each passing day. A sense of helplessness washed over him, and he felt dismayed. Why was the process taking so long?
He’d been specific, and how many shootings could there possibly have been on the same day. It was then that they got the idea to call his father’s friend, David, and get him involved. David had spread the process along, but even he couldn’t do much with such limited resources.
“Are you worried?” His mother questioned, her brows furrowed together as she crossed the kitchen in two strides and poured herself a huge cup of coffee. She gulped it down in one swallow and gave Tommy an encouraging smile.
“A little.” Tommy blew an errand piece of hair out of his face and leaned against the counter, crossing one arm over the other. “What if I can’t recognize him? I’ll have come this close to finally apprehending this guy and getting justice for Dad.”
His mother placed her hand on his arm and squeezed briefly. “Honey, it’s not up to you to do that. That’s not your burden to carry.”
“Yes, it is,” Tommy insisted, firmly. “I have to do this, mom. I’m sure Dad would want me to because he needs to pay.”
“Honey, no, don’t say that. Nobody is expecting that from you. If you can do it then great. If not, it’s okay,” his mother said, firmly but kindly. “Your father wouldn’t want you to worry about that. He’s at peace now, and you should be too.”
“We’ll see,” Tommy said, vaguely as he patted his mom on the shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He rinsed out the mug and put it away then he bounded up the stairs to get dressed and head to the station.
***
“Tommy,” David called out as he pushed himself off the wall and adjusted his jacket, brushing crumbs off. “How are you?”
Tommy swallowed past the dryness in his throat. “I’m okay. You?”
David nodded. “Good, good. I’m glad we finally made some progress. The bastard slipped up, and we finally caught him after all this time.”
“I’m glad.” Tommy forced a smile to his face, trying to hear past the pounding of his ears. “Will it take long?”
David shook his head. “No, it shouldn’t. It’s a basic process, don’t worry. You’ll be behind a glass screen, it’s very safe, and there will be a lineup of people, and you just need to look at each of them till one of them jogs your memory.”
Tommy swallowed. “Is it like in the movies? Do you get to ask them to step forward to be able to identify them better?”
David cleared his throat. “Yes, that part is true, but it’s a little different.”
As soon as they walked into the station, a blast of cold air hit their faces, and a cacophony of voices sounded as people rushed to and fro. Tommy weaved in and out of the crowd, doing his best to keep David in sight and forget about the last time he was here.
It wasn’t a memory he liked to relive.
“Sorry about the chaos,” David said, apologetically. “It’s one of those days.”
Tommy smiled weakly. “It’s okay.”
David lead him into a room off the side, with the air conditioner on full blast, and two other people sitting there, pouring over some papers on the desk. They straightened up when he walked in and shook his hand before sitting back down and pulling up their chairs.
David clapped him on the back. “You can do this, Tommy. Whenever you’re ready, just let us know.”
Tommy’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening. “Okay, go ahead.”
David leaned over and pressed a button. “Bring them in guys.”
There was a beep, a side door opened and a group of men of identical height and build walked in. They all had dark hair, hard lines around their eyes, and scowls on their faces.
“18549 step forward please,” David instructed. He leaned in to whisper in Tommy’s ear. “Just take a good hard look and take your time.”
Tommy did as he was told, squinted and leaned forward, pressing his hands against the table. “No, it’s not him.”
It went on for a few minutes, David would call someone up, and they’d reluctantly take a step forward, glower then move back when Tommy would shake his head. He could tell that David was growing frustrated by the lack of progress, but there was nothing he could do.
If only he could speed the process along, it would be better for everyone, but it wasn’t how this worked. He needed to be sure he was convicting the right person otherwise an innocent man would go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit. It wasn’t something Tommy wanted on his conscience either.
Desperate as he was to get the bad guy, he wasn’t going to botch the job up. Half assed wasn’t the way to go. He only had one thing to do, one job, and he was going to go all out. Tommy dog up the memory of how the man looked from the recesses of his mind, and his nails dug into his palms, making crescent shapes hard enough to draw blood.
He flinched in surprise and stared down at his hands as he realized he’d been shaking.
David eyed him sympathetically. “Do you want to take a break?”
Tommy’s mouth tightened. “No, I just want to get this over and done with.”
David paused and led Tommy into a corner of the room where he ducked his head and lowered his voice. “Tommy, if you can’t do this today, it’s okay. We’re not going to pressure you, you know that. You can go home and come back tomorrow.”
Tommy swallowed back the irritation. Why
was everyone treating him like he was still a child? He wasn’t anymore. For Christ’s sake, he was a grown ass man, capable of making his own decisions. Including this one.
“I can do this,” Tommy assured him, injecting as much false bravado as he could muster into his tone. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly into something slightly resembling a grimace.
David still looked skeptical, a furrow appearing between his brows. “Alright, if you’re sure. We only have 3 more left, so we’re almost there.”
Anticipation.
That’s what Tommy felt.
He couldn’t wait to look the man in the eye and tell him that he was going to pay for what he did. Tommy had the ability to lock him up and throw away the key, theoretically of course.
They walked back towards the screen and leaned forward together in unison, waiting with baited breath for the moment when a switch would go off in Tommy’s brain, and everything would fall into place.
He turned down the first two instantly given that they weren’t the right size, but as soon as his eyes landed on the third one, his blood ran cold, and he forced himself to unclench. A feeling he’d tried hard to push down started to resurface.
Anger.
Pulsing through him like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under.
“That’s him,” Tommy said through gritted teeth. “The last one on the left.”
David nodded. “We were hoping it was. We’ve been trying to track this guy down for a while and take him down, but we haven’t been able to. You just made our jobs easier.”
Tommy forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’m glad.”
David placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You did good, son. Your dad would’ve been proud.”
Tommy chewed on the inside of his lip. “I hope so. What happens now?”
“Now, we arrest him. We tell him the charges, and he decided if he wants a lawyer or not. The forensic evidence against him should be enough to put him away.”
“Should be?” Tommy echoed, a kernel of doubt planted in his mind.
“You shouldn’t think about that. There’s more than enough evidence to put him away,” David repeated, confidently. “Plus, we have an eyewitness account. That solidifies our case against him.”
“Can I see him?”
The words came out of Tommy’s mouth before he could stop them, and they tasted like acid. Why would he want to see the man who derailed his life, and took away one of the most important people in his life?
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” David began, uncomfortably.
“Please,” Tommy pleaded. “I just need to be sure.”
Reluctantly, David’s head bobbed up then down before he led him into a private room with two security guards. The man was handcuffed to the table, a bored expression on his face as he leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other.
“It’s you.”
Tommy made eye contact with the man, and he stood rooted to the ground, his feet unable to take a single step forward.
“Well, well, well.” The man smacked his lips together, making a loud noise. “I thought you looked familiar. Not so lanky anymore.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
“The silent approach, eh? Whatever. Just remember to say hi to your daddy for me.”
Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d moved, much less that his fist went flying in the air until it connected with solid flesh, making a sickening cracking sound. All Tommy could see was red, and he squirmed and hollowed until he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind, encasing him in a vice like grip as he thrashed.
“Let me go,” he spat, furiously. “This man deserves to pay for what he did. I’m not the bad guy here. He is.”
“Tommy, you need to calm down. You’re not helping your case right now,” David spoke, soothingly, his face floating in and out of Tommy’s peripheral vision.
“He’s a murderer. He should be locked up right now!” Tommy demanded. “Why does he even need a trial if the evidence against him is air tight?”
“That’s how the justice system works,” David said, apologetically as they escorted him outside into the fresh air. Tommy rubbed his arms and sucked in huge mouthfuls of air.
“I’m sorry, Tommy.”
“Me too.”
Chapter 9
Tommy woke up in a foul mood.
Whether it was due to the events of the previous day, or just a general thing, he had no idea, but it certainly wasn’t helping that nothing seemed to be going according to plan. First, there was no hot water in the shower then he discovered they ran out of coffee.
Add to all that the fact that his hand smarted after his altercation with the thug the other day, and the day already had the makings of a disaster. He growled under his breath as his mother tried to converse him and he’d huffed on as he grabbed his backpack and headed off to practice.
He paused near the doorway, taking a deep breath to try to get his jumbled-up emotions in order, but it was no use. He was tightly wound with fraught nerves, barely able to keep himself from combusting.
How could one day make everything feel like it was going straight to hell?
“Tommy, wait.”
He kept his back turned as he heard his mother scramble up behind him, and he could feel her eyes on the back of his head, willing him to turn around and face her, but he stubbornly refused to. His mother hadn’t done anything wrong after all, and he couldn’t risk blowing up in her face.
She had enough shit to deal with on a daily basis without him adding to that.
“Yes?” He said, tightly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“David called me yesterday,” she said, cautiously. She moved so she was standing next to him, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye. He cut her a look before he stared at the door again. She reached out her hand to touch him but changed her mind halfway through and shoved them in her pockets instead.
“Do you want to talk about?” She asked, hopefully. “It can help if you’re frustrated.”
“Not really,” Tommy said, evenly. “Look, mom. I appreciate this, I do, and I know none of this is your fault, so I’m sorry if I’m in a crappy mood, but I don’t see how talking about it will help.”
“Oh, honey.” She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, keeping it still. “Of course, it helps. You lashed out, and that’s okay. Everybody does that. It won’t matter, and David knows that.”
Tommy fixed his gaze on her. “Does he? Can he guarantee that this won’t affect the case? That nobody will bring up the fact that I beat up the guy who allegedly killed my father while he was in police custody?”
His mother sighed. “You didn’t beat him up. You punched him, and I’m pretty sure any jury worth their salt will understand.”
“Just because they understand doesn’t mean it won’t affect their decision. What if they accuse me of beating him up just to coerce him into confessing?”
His mother blanched. “Surely they wouldn’t think that? You’re a good boy, Tommy. All they need is to look at your records, and they’ll know.”
“My records? Mom, all they’ll see is that I come from the other side of the tracks. The wrong side of town as they’ll call it. To them, I’ll be just another thug,” Tommy said, a little forcefully.
His mother flinched before she set her mouth into a determined line. “You are so much more than that, Tommy. Don’t let other people’s labels define you.”
“It’s too late for that, mom. These labels defined me before I was even born.”
Tommy shook off her hand and lifted his back up on his shoulder. “I’d better go, or I’m going to be late for practice.”
“Tommy I—”
Tommy swiftly cut her off. “I know you’re trying to help, but just don’t. I really have to go.”
He caught the indecisive look on her face before she stepped aside and let him pass, shooting him a concerned look on his way out. He forced hims
elf to keep moving forward and not look back as he put one foot in front of the other till he was out on the street.
There was something about the neighborhood at this time of day that made it seem peaceful, safe even. When the early morning sun beating down on it, it could’ve been one of those neighborhoods people saw in commercial ads with the perfectly manicured lawns, white picket fence and bikes strewn in front of the garage door.
Almost.
Tommy’s gaze dispassionately swept over the landscape, taking it in critically and noticing for the first time, the flaws that were glaringly obvious. An outsider would instinctively be able to spot the weeds in the midst of the flowers, the cracked sidewalk, and the houses that were in shambles and barely staying up.
He lowered his gaze and quickened his steps, eager to be out of this place and somewhere where he was somebody different. Out on that stadium, he wasn’t where he came from, he was simply Tommy Adams, a young man with massive potential who had the ability to be somebody in baseball.
***
“Take 5 everyone,” the coach called out. He pointed at Tommy and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, a stern expression on his face. Tommy pushed down the fear and followed him quietly. He knew he was about to be scolded. To say that his performance was subpar today was an understatement.
It was worse than that.
He kept missing the ball, and when he tried to pitch, the ball overshot the mark by a long shot. He didn’t have the first clue what was wrong. He’d certainly never faced this problem before. Then again, he’d never felt so frustrated in his entire life either.
“What’s going on with you, Adams?” The coach demanded once they were out of earshot of the other players. His face was red and sweaty as he took out a towel and wiped the grime of his face.
“Nothing, coach,” Tommy responded, automatically.
“Nothing?” the coach repeated, spittle flying out of his mouth. “Do you think I’m stupid, boy? You’re playing like an amateur out there, and I was bragging about how I found a good player. Now, you’re making both of us look bad.”
