Though the night seemed to be a perfect start to the new life Bobby planned on making for himself with the help of the Job Corps program, Rissa couldn’t ignore or find a reason for the gut-wrenching feeling she couldn’t shake. She kept the unjustifiable feeling to herself, however, not wanting to ruin Bobby’s sendoff night.
The very minute after the party was over, Rissa helped Bobby carry his luggage to his trunk. As they headed to the car, laughing about the night they’d just had, a car swerved up on the two of them out of nowhere. Rissa couldn’t blink and Bobby couldn’t suck in another breath of Detroit’s polluted air before seeing a hollow barrel staring at them. As soon as Bobby lifted one of the bags into the air in an effort to block the attack, it was riddled with bullets. The shooter was sending a fireworks display of bullets into him without an ounce of remorse. Bobby was hit multiple times in the face, head, and chest; while Rissa only took one bullet to the shoulder and one to the leg. The two were left bleeding on the pavement in a cloud of engine smoke. But only one person rose after the shooter fled from the scene of the crime. Bobby died damn near instantly.
Bobby’s mother was about to take a cosmetics bag out to him that he’d forgotten when she heard the barrage of gunfire sounding off. Falling to the floor, she covered her head until the shooting stopped, then rose and ran as fast as she could out the door and off the porch. Though she was hoping the gunshots came from a block over, perhaps, which was normal to hear around the clock in the hood, it was her worst fear that something tragic had occurred to either Bobby or Rissa. Each step she took toward the car, the louder her prayers to God got. All she wanted was for her son to be okay.
“No, God. No,” she screamed in a panic, running full speed to the car where Bobby and Rissa lay in the street behind. Her heart fell from out her chest, her lungs collapsed, and her mind went blank for almost five seconds straight. She was in a shock of utter disbelief. Sliding like a pro baseball player in a World Series championship game, she slipped through the growing pool of blood that was spewing from her son’s body, and she grabbed his dead corpse. It was still warm. Burying her head into Bobby’s chest, she cried out in agonizing pain, the type of indescribable pain only a mother who buried a child could relate to.
Picking Bobby’s body up off the pavement, she cradled his lifeless body and begged for what she knew really wasn’t believable. She didn’t even recognize her son. “Come on, baby, breath for Mama.” Her voice was soft and soothing, as it was to him when he was a newborn baby fresh from her womb. Rocking Bobby’s limp body back and forth like her movement would stimulate his heart to beat again, Bobby’s mother was in shock. She refused to let him go.
Rissa lay right beside them with her head propped up on the curb. Though she was going in and out of consciousness, she still heard Bobby’s mother pleading desperately to God not to take her son, and for someone to call 911 for help. And though she wished upon a star her friend could rise, she knew that would never be the case.
Moaning from the excruciating pain she was feeling from the gunshot wounds, tears streamed down her cheeks. Life for her kept going from bad to worse. She thought the open, gaping wounds were on fire and that she was being burned alive. She tried to scream out loud, but it wouldn’t come out. She tried to move, but she couldn’t. Rissa felt paralyzed. She even tried to pray that the sirens she heard getting louder and louder were coming her way; but she wasn’t strong enough to look up. Rissa felt completely out of fight. Her eyes started drooping and she got weaker and weaker each second that passed by; and then she finally blacked out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Slowly but steadily, Rissa was regaining consciousness. She fought to open her eyes when she heard voices and felt the presence of people around her. Finally opening one eye at a time, she saw blurry figures of people she assumed were doctors because of the white coats they wore and the clipboards they were writing on. Once they realized Rissa was stirring, one quickly moved to check her vitals while the other asked her questions she struggled to answer.
Hooked up to several different machines, the constant beeping of the heart monitor was driving Rissa crazy. “Please stop that damn thing from fucking beeping. It’s too much,” she complained with a raspy voice, shaking her head slowly from side to side as if she were being tormented. Rissa’s mouth was dry and her throat hurt like hell. She wished for a nice cold glass of cherry Kool-Aid and a fat blunt to go with it, but she knew those hopes were temporarily out of her reach.
“Young lady, you are lucky to be alive. You lost a lot of blood and you have been in and out of consciousness for the last three days. In order to save you, we gave you four blood transfusions. And in order to keep you alive, that heart monitor has been working overtime. If the EMs hadn’t gotten you here when they did, we wouldn’t be looking at one another right now. You are in good care here at Henry Ford Hospital. We have the best doctors in the city and you’ll be out of here in no time,” the Chinese doctor spoke arrogantly.
Rissa heard him but was preoccupied with thoughts of Bobby shortly after the doctors cleared out of her hospital room.
Wanda and Chad made their way in to visit with her. Rissa was her day one and she broke down crying. Wanda had come to the hospital every day to be by her girl’s side. When Rissa saw Chad, she cried even harder knowing she would never be able to be with Bobby again. Having a flashback to the first time all four of them met, she wished she could go back to the good ol’ days when all they did was hang tough and blow weed. Rissa wished they could enjoy life again but, sadly, she knew life for at least her would never be the same.
Wanda hurried over to her bedside and leaned down, giving her girl a comforting hug; then she stood back up melting down all over again. She couldn’t help it. Wanda felt bad for her girl. Not only for what she’d been through, but for the death of Bobby, too. Chad came up behind Wanda and put his arm around her. He was trying his best to soothe her. Rissa had an IV in both her arms and tubes were inserted in both her gunshot wounds to keep the fluid from building up in her body. Only when she’d come out of the coma did they remove the feeding tube. Two bullets were surgically removed, but Rissa would recover. For that, Wanda thanked God.
“Yo, sis, who did y’all like this? My dog is dead and you got shot and damn near died. Do you know the dude? Ray who lives up the block said he saw the whole clip pop off like a movie. He said there was only one cat in the car. I ain’t no killa, but tell me you know who did my mans dirty, and I’ll go see dude right fucking now. That’s my word, sis.” Chad wanted to get revenge on whoever was responsible for his friend’s death.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Rissa shook her head back and forth. “I saw the guy. Ray was right; there was only one nigga. I looked him dead in his face a split second before he started letting off. Chad, I never saw the guy before; but if I ever see him again, I’ll know it’s him.” Rissa started crying.
Unbeknownst to all three of them, Detective Goodhouse was standing right outside the doorway hanging on to every word they spoke about a murder he’d put into motion. In a few seconds, he was about to reveal himself as the detective assigned to working Bobby’s homicide. He was the worst type of weapon: a double-edged sword.
After listening for a few seconds longer, he walked into the hospital room and was greeted with nothing but attitude. Twice looking over her shoulder, Wanda spun all the way around and mean mugged the detective with suspicion in her eyes. Looking him up and down, she wanted to know why he was there. Surprise was an understatement for how she felt. Reading Wanda’s body language, Chad stood up on the defensive. Folding his arms across his chest and mean mugging the newcomer to the room, he knew something was on the floor but didn’t know what.
Rissa looked past her homegirl and rolled her already dry eyes. “What are you doing here? I hope to tell me you caught the people who killed my family,” she said, voice weak and strained. She might’ve been in a foggy state of mind from all the strong pain medication, but she wasn’t so far gone not
to know how to play her role.
“We meet again, Ms. Ford, much to my regret that it’s under unfortunate circumstances,” Goodhouse responded with a smug grin on his face. “I’m the lead investigator on the homicide of Bobby Martin. It’s my understanding that you were his girlfriend.” Careful with his choice of words, he’d chosen the word “were” to make a play on the past tense of their relationship. When he saw the weakness in Rissa’s eyes build up even more, he moved to get her alone. “Can I have a moment alone with Ms. Ford? This will only take a minute,” he demanded more than asked of Wanda and Chad.
“We ain’t ate all day so we’ll go to the hospital cafeteria and grab something to eat. By the time we get back, he should done and gone,” Wanda responded with attitude, directing her statement toward the detective while talking to Chad. “Girl, we’ll be back in a little while. I’ll ask the nurses if you can have real food. If they say you can, I’ll bring you something with a li’l flavor to try eating.”
Rissa nodded up and down in agreement with her bestie. No sooner than Wanda and Chad left the room, Goodhouse flipped the script. The professional cop disappeared and the crooked snake with a badge showed his true colors.
He and Rissa were all alone. Pushing the room door closed, along with the blinds, he wanted the two of them to have absolute privacy. Then he walked back over to her bedside. “Let’s cut to the chase. I found Bobby’s ID outside of the window he climbed through. He either dropped it on the way in or on the way out. Either way, those are his bodies and his murder rap. I just put the warrant out for his arrest before I got called to roll out on his murder,” Goodhouse lied, trying to manipulate Rissa. “I also think you helped kill them.”
Rissa’s heart monitor beeped loud and fast. She was scared as hell and mad at the same time. She couldn’t believe the detective was coming for her. Rissa mustered up enough courage and strength to give Goodhouse a piece of her mind. “Look, mister, Bobby or me ain’t have shit to do with my aunt’s and her husband’s murders. Do I look like I go around killing people? Let alone my own family? Get the fuck out of here with your Cracker Jack–ass detective bullshit and go find who really killed my family and my dude.”
Rissa had had enough of the police for one day. She slowly reached for the nurse call button with her good arm. No longer did she feel safe alone with the detective. Goodhouse saw the call button in Rissa’s hand, then grabbed her wrist and squeezed it hard so she wouldn’t press the button. “You little bitch, watch your mouth. Maybe I already know who killed yo’ li’l boyfriend and maybe I don’t give a damn. Maybe I’ll let him get away with murder. How about you come up dead and I’ll be heading the investigation and know your killer personally but just don’t give a fuck too?”
First looking into his eyes trying to read them, Rissa then tried pulling her wrist from his grip but he was too strong. Her heart pounded and sweat formed on her brows. She thought, is this muthafucka for real? Is he that fucking crazy? Is he bluffing and just trying to scare me into giving Bobby up so he can close his case or what?
Standing her ground, Rissa demanded that he let her go or she would scream. Goodhouse, though, only had the idea of being more aggressive. Suddenly, the room door opened and in walked one of her several nurses assigned to her critical case. First consumed with the information on the computer monitor, she asked to verify Rissa’s name and date of birth so she could administer meds, but then she looked up to Rissa snatching her arm away from the cop to the point of her body jerking. Without a doubt or question, she knew something wasn’t right. “What’s going on in here?” Her voice was loaded with disapproval of what she’d witnessed.
Goodhouse was caught off guard. With his narrowed eyes locked in on Rissa, he backed away from her bedside. “Nothing; just helping my niece out is all. She was just about to call for a nurse because she’s in a lot of pain. You must’ve sensed it,” he spoke slyly, wearing an underhanded, sly smile.
The nurse side-eyed Goodhouse as she walked past him toward Rissa lying in bed. Goodhouse stepped out of her way and gave her a plastic look as if she were nobody. When she began taking Rissa’s vital signs, she noticed the anxiety and look of concern on the young woman’s face, and she began worrying herself.
“Get him out of here, please.” Rissa moved her lips, mouthing the words.
The nurse wrinkled her face up and slightly nodded; then she frowned her face up into an “I ain’t here for the bullshit” expression and cut into the detective. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m not buying she’s your niece. If you don’t leave now, I’m calling hospital security.” She thought her threat would carry weight.
“Lady, I am security.” Goodhouse pulled his credentials out and stuck them in her face.
She slapped the badge out of his hand and it hit the wall then fell to the floor. “That shit don’t hold no weight with me.”
Goodhouse was shocked. He picked his shield up off the floor and put it away back in his blazer pocket. “I should arrest your shit-wiping ass for interfering with an ongoing investigation,” he said, trying to save face.
“Go on, do it. Your ass will be answering why I walked in on you sexually assaulting a heavily sedated unconscious woman.” She refused to back down, concocting a wild story Goodhouse couldn’t dare take lightly.
“That’s a lie,” Goodhouse barked.
“What you think? I don’t know it? I’m the one who’s gon’ tell it. And, by then, it’s gonna be even more believable. So how do you want to do this, pig?”
“You ain’t shit but a crazy little bitch!” Goodhouse couldn’t believe she had the audacity to threaten him.
“I’ve been called worse by better people. Anything else you’d like to call me other than a child of God? Go ahead. I’m free and listening. I’ll just add it to all the other statements I’m prepared to write on your crooked ass,” the sassy nurse sassed, unbothered.
The cop’s pride was bruised and he was hotter than Iraq. He couldn’t do shit with the nurse. He knew it was in his best interest to get the fuck out of the room before the situation got any further out of hand.
Before the ol’ dog tucked his tail and ran, though, he had a few parting words for Rissa. “I’ll see you on the flipside. And, when I do, I’ll have some shiny bracelets that’ll look good on you.” Mocking Rissa even more, he patted his police-issued handcuffs and stared at her with his cold and emotionless eyes before leaving the room. All Rissa and the nurse heard was his devilish laugh echoing from out in the hallway.
“What was that all about, Rissa? That is how you pronounce your name, right?” the nurse asked, reading through Rissa’s medical chart.
“Yeah, that’s how it’s said. So what’s your deal? Why you go so hard for me? I just asked you to get him out of here. You ain’t have to go in like that for me.”
“Girl, please. I didn’t. I’ve been on my feet for eight hours with four more to go. These fucking patients and coworkers done worked my last damn nerve. He just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. Plus, I just was playing NWA’s song ‘Fuck the Police’ on my iPod.” She smiled, pulling the small earphone out of her ear.
“Thanks anyway. He’s an asshole as you can tell.” Rissa told her something she already knew while returning the smile.
She revealed the real reason she spoke up. “Seriously, I have a daughter close to your age who you reminded me of at first glance.”
Injecting some morphine into Rissa’s IV, the potent medication took effect on her immediately. Eventually, Rissa drifted off into a euphoric bliss. The sleep and relief was much needed. The good nurse pulled the covers over Rissa properly, then cleaned up behind herself before leaving the room to finish her shift.
Shortly after, Wanda and Chad returned from getting food and found Rissa fast asleep. After placing her friend’s food from the cafeteria on the nightstand beside her bed, Wanda ran her fingers through Rissa’s long, black silky hair. “Get some rest, friend. I’ll be here to see yo
u early tomorrow, okay?” Then Wanda and Chad left the hospital for Rissa to rest and heal.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was seven forty-five that evening when Rissa came out of a deep drug-induced sleep. When she finally got enough strength to open her eyes all the way, she saw Bobby’s mother sitting in a chair close to her hospital bed. Nessa was dabbing a Kleenex at her crying eyes. Expectedly, she was taking the loss of her Bobby bad. Her heart was broken. He was her only child and the only one she could count on through the good and bad times. In her mind, there would never ever be good times again in her lifetime. With the police unable to tell her who killed her only son, she turned hurt into anger, and no one was exempt from feeling her wrath.
“Hello, Rissa,” Nessa spoke all dry, glaring at Rissa intensely. That fatal day played again and again in her head as she looked at Rissa lying in the bed with tubes coming out of her hooked up to monitors. She wished Rissa was on that cold metal slab in the morgue instead of her baby boy. She loathed the day that Bobby brought her into her home. Rissa had no idea Nessa felt the way she did. But she was about to find out.
“Hello, Nessa,” Rissa managed to say, rubbing her eyes with the one good hand she could move freely. She was about to ask Nessa how she was holding up when she was abruptly cut off in mid-thought.
Nessa broke down crying and yelling at her that she was the reason Bobby was dead, and that after she left the hospital today she never wanted to see Rissa again. His mama caused so much drama that she had to be escorted out of the room and shown the hospital exit.
Rissa was blindsided. Never not once did she expect Nessa to react or snap on her like she had. Nessa had reached a level Rissa wasn’t familiar with.
Rissa’s mind was all over the map. She wondered where she could go when she got discharged, how she’d eat, how she’d get money for clothes, and, most trivial, how she’d get her hair done. Feeling overwhelmed by the continued and constant drama, Rissa cried uncontrollably. She was drained, starting to drown in self-pity.
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