And This Too Shall Pass

by E. Lynn Harris

  A few minutes later, two detectives came to the reception area and led Tamela and Zurich down a musty hallway with several doors which had black numbers on them.

  “Let’s go in here,” one of the detectives said as he motioned Tamela and Zurich toward an open door. Once inside, he offered them a seat and asked if they wanted coffee or something else to drink. Both Tamela and Zurich responded no.

  The interrogation room was small, bright, and unventilated. The tile floor was a dirty yellow, like a smoker’s teeth, and smelled like a much-used dirty mop. There was a gray steel table with a phone and two chairs on both sides. Tamela and Zurich sat on one side, and the two detectives sat opposite them.

  “Thank you, Mr. Robinson, for coming down and helping us out with this case. I’m Detective Dodd and this is my partner, Detective Davis,” the shorter of the two white officers said.

  “Let me start by stating that I have not talked in detail with my client, so I don’t know how much we can accomplish today,” Tamela said.

  “We understand, Ms. Coleman. We just want to ask a few questions,” Detective Dodd said. But before they started to ask questions, both detectives told Zurich how they had read the articles on him and had seen him play against the Bears. Both seemed in awe of him, smiling and not treating him at all like a possible rape suspect, Tamela thought as she watched their interaction. Zurich looked remarkably composed, speaking clearly about his career and looking the detectives directly in the eye.

  But Zurich’s insides rocked, partly from anger and from sadness. Angry that he was sitting in a police station with three people he didn’t know, preparing to defend his honor. He had never been in any type of trouble in his life. Sad, too, that Mia would lie about him because he hadn’t accepted her offer.

  “Do you mind telling us where you were Friday night and early Saturday morning?” Detective Davis asked. Zurich was preparing to tell him he was out with Mia, when Tamela stopped him by gently touching his thigh and saying to him, “Don’t answer that.” Zurich followed her advice and politely shook his head yes. He liked the way she took control.

  “Do you mind telling us why you left a message on Ms. Miller’s answering machine saying you were sorry,” Detective Dodd, the other detective, said.

  “Again, I’m going to advise my client not to answer that,” Tamela said as she stood up and looked directly at the officers. “Look, Officers, it doesn’t look like we’re going to get anywhere with these questions. Is my client under arrest?” Tamela said boldly. She wanted to say, Look, you guys need to shit or get off the pot.

  “No, Ms. Coleman, we are still investigating,” Detective Davis said.

  “Well then, this meeting is over. If you have an arrest warrant, would you please contact me?” Tamela asked as she pulled out a card and placed it on the table. She looked at Zurich, who got up from his seat and started to follow her out of the room, when Detective Davis called out to him as Mr. Robinson. Zurich turned and faced him and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you mind signing this for my son? His name is Christopher,” he said as he held out a rolled-up football program and a pen. Zurich looked at Tamela for a brief second, but couldn’t read her face. He gave the officer a half smile and said, “Sure,” as he took the program and pen and wrote To Chris, Always keep your head up! Zurich Robinson #12. Tamela was thinking, Is this guy a rapist or someone created by the Boy Scouts?

  “Thank you, Mr. Robinson. Thank you very much,” Detective Davis said as he looked at the autograph like a little kid with a new prized possession. While he was looking at the program, Detective Dodd noticed the scratch on the hand Zurich had used to sign the autograph.

  “Did you get those scratches in the game against Atlanta?” he asked. Zurich and Tamela both looked at the scratches and before he could answer Tamela glared at him and said, “Don’t answer that,” as she pulled his hand out of the officer’s view.

  Once they were outside, standing near the public parking area, Zurich looked at Tamela and said, “This is not going to be the end of this, is it?”

  “I doubt it. I have to look over the information they have, including this answering machine message. Did you call her?” Tamela asked.

  “Yes, but it’s not what you think,” Zurich said.

  “Let’s talk about this when we get together at my office. What is your schedule like?”

  “I can make time for this. All I have is practice. We have a game in New Jersey this weekend. If they arrest me, will I be able to make that game?”

  “Depending on the charges, if there are any, then we will need to arrange bail,” Tamela said.

  “Should I tell my coaches what’s going on?”

  “Do you trust them?”

  “I guess,” Zurich said.

  “That’s completely up to you. But I think we should see what we’re up against first. I’m going to get a police report when I get back to the office. I will look it over and then we should meet as soon as possible,” Tamela said.

  “That’s fine. When are we talking about? Later tonight or tomorrow?”

  “Well, give me a chance to look the info over. Let’s set up a meeting for Thursday afternoon,” Tamela said.

  “Can we do it after practice?”

  “Mr. Robinson, you do realize that this is a very serious matter and I’m going to need your help if I am to defend you,” Tamela said sternly. Didn’t he realize how serious this was? she wondered.

  “I know that. But I have to make practice or else I won’t have the money to pay you,” Zurich said.

  “What time is your practice over?”

  “Usually around three, depending on how much game film we have to go over,” Zurich said.

  “Yes, that should be fine. That will give me more time. Here is my card with the address of my firm,” Tamela said. Zurich looked at the card she handed him and said, “Your office is on the same street as Gina’s office. I shouldn’t have any problem finding it.”

  “Good. But if you do, just call this number,” Tamela said as she took the card and underlined the main office number.

  “I need to ask you a question,” Tamela said as she looked him straight in his eyes.

  “Yes, Ms. Coleman.”

  “How did you get those scratches?” Tamela narrowed her eyes, stressing the importance of her question. Zurich felt her eyes were accusatory as if she already had made up her mind. He felt a rush of anger, but he remained cool.

  “Mia scratched me. I can explain it to you now or later.”

  “We can talk about it when you come to my office,” Tamela said.

  “Ms. Coleman,” Zurich said mournfully.

  “Yes, Mr. Robinson,” Tamela said as she looked up at him. She wanted to tell him he should save the sad-puppy-dog look for a jury if he were indicted.

  “I didn’t do it. I promise you,” he said. Tamela continued to look at Zurich without responding. She had always prided herself on her ability to tell when someone was lying, but at this moment, with Zurich, she couldn’t tell.

  “We’ll talk Thursday, Mr. Robinson. Try and enjoy the rest of your day.”

  Later Tuesday evening, Sean’s buzzer sounded and he went downstairs to see one of New York’s finest standing at the entrance door. A spandex-clad messenger with dreads.

  “Yo, Gee. Are you Sean Elliott?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Sean replied.

  “Got a package for you. Sign this,” he said as he gave Sean a clipboard and pen. Once Sean signed, the messenger handed him a manila envelope from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.

  Sean couldn’t wait until he got back to his apartment before he ripped it open. There it was, a picture of Zurich wearing a form-fitting dancer’s body suit and a smile. But Sean looked closer and he could see that the smile, though bright as headlights, was not the smile he had seen in Chicago. The man in the picture, though a mirror image, was not Zurich Robinson. But who was he? Sean wondered. When suddenly, the answer was clear. Twins. Zurich Robins
on had a twin.

  “Come in,” Tamela said when she heard a knock at her office door late Wednesday. She assumed it was her secretary, Christina Martin, but to her surprise, in walked Warner Mitchell, a Yale Law School–trained second-year associate with a copy of the Chicago Sun-Times evening edition.

  “Hello, Warner. What can I do for you?”

  “You’re handling the Robinson case, aren’t you?”

  Tamela wondered how Warner knew which cases she was handling but she said, “Yes.” She wanted to say in her best bump fish tough-girl tone, Yeah, what about it?

  “Have you seen this?” he said as he laid the newspaper on her desk, opened to page one of the sports section. Tamela leaned her face forward to read the article Warner had circled in a red Magic Marker. Chicago police questioned pro football quarterback Zurich Robinson Tuesday about a September 8 rape of a 32-year-old Chicago woman. Robinson, a quarterback with the NFL expansion team the Chicago Cougars, was questioned at police headquarters for two hours before being released, said Chicago police spokeswoman Melanie Carrigan. No charges have been filed and the case is still under investigation, Carrigan said.

  “I can’t believe this,” Tamela said. “We weren’t even there an hour.”

  “So they got it wrong. But you know there will be more articles,” Warner said.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Tamela said.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Warner asked.

  “What?”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Warner repeated.

  “No, I can handle this, but thanks for asking,” Tamela said, wondering about his interest in her case and knowing that she needed more time to prepare for her Thursday meeting with Zurich.

  “Well, I’m down the hall,” Warner said as he reached for his newspaper. Tamela put her hands on top of the paper and asked, “Can I keep this?”

  “Sure,” Warner said as he left Tamela’s office. When he was gone, Tamela picked up her phone and dialed Zurich’s number. When his answering machine picked up, she said, “Zurich, this is Tamela Coleman. Have you seen the paper? The Sun-Times. Well, looks like we got our hands full, so I would like to reschedule our meeting for next Tuesday at 10 A.M. If that works with your schedule, please call my office and leave me a message. Keep your chin up.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THE WALKING WOUNDED

  On a beautiful autumn Sunday afternoon in New York, Zurich Robinson opened up some deep wounds. Not the wounds he suffered on the football field. Yes, the Cougars lost again. This time to the New Jersey Warriors, 38–20. Zurich had played much better than his effort against Atlanta, throwing two touchdown passes late in the game. All week, he had tried to put Mia and his troubles in Chicago out of his mind during practice and the game. On Tuesday, he was scheduled to meet with Tamela to find out what, if anything, the Chicago DA was going to do about Mia’s allegations. Despite Mia’s initial statement and the evidence the police had collected, Tamela told him, she didn’t think they had a case, but Mia could still come after him with a civil suit. Zurich had not discussed his problems with anyone except Tamela and Gina. MamaCee had called several times, and once even left a message on his answering machine. A first for her. But Zurich assured her that everything was going fine.

  After the game Zurich had a couple of surprises. Both pleasant. As he was walking toward the locker room, with his head down from the dejection of his performance, one of the Warriors’ players came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When Zurich turned, he was looking directly into the stunning gray eyes of Basil Henderson, the Warriors’ All-Pro wide receiver. Zurich was a big fan of the sure-handed player. With a big smile on his face Basil said, “Say, Gee. I just wanted to come up and tell you, man, that you can throw. You’re going to be a good one. I wish you were throwing to me.”

  Zurich replied with excitement in his voice, “Thank you, thanks a lot. It means a great deal coming from you.”

  “Cool. Hey, we’re homeboys sorta. Aren’t you from Tampa?”

  “Yeah, I am. Right near Temple Terrace. Where are you from, Basil?” Zurich said.

  “I’m from Miami,” Basil said.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “No problem. By the way, I saw a piece in All Sports where some bitch is accusing you of something bad, man. How is that going?”

  “Everything is going to be fine, I hope. Thank you for your concern,” Zurich said. Gina had informed him some national newspapers would probably pick up the piece that ran in the Sun-Times, but not to worry since she was working on a plan to counter the negative press.

  “Yeah, man, but be careful. Both the media and women can be a real ball buster. Look, I’m going to get a piece of paper and leave my number with your team equipment manager. Why don’t you give me a call and let’s keep in touch. Maybe we can hang out when we come to Chicago to play the Bears or when you guys are up here against the Giants,” Basil said.

  “That would be great,” Zurich said.

  “Cool. I’ll make sure I get that number to you.”

  When Zurich entered the press room to talk to reporters, one insisted on asking him questions about his possible involvement in a sexual assault in Chicago. When Zurich said, “No comment under advice of counsel,” the reporter continued asking questions, citing the number of black pro athletes accused of violence against women.

  Zurich’s eyes moved past the annoying reporter and suddenly saw Sean. Broad smiles came across both of their faces. Zurich walked over to shake hands with Sean and told him he hadn’t known he was going to be at the game. Sean introduced Zurich to Gerald, who stood there wide-eyed and quiet for once, and then said, “Changes at the last minute. I have a few more questions for you. If you have a couple hours, I can get you out of this.”

  Zurich agreed and quickly informed Sean that he had planned to spend the night in New York City before going back to Chicago. Sean was surprised at the questions from the reporter. He had not heard about Zurich’s being under investigation for rape. His subscription to All Sports had expired, and he had not seen the small article. He wanted to know more about this and how it might affect the article he was working on, and he also wanted to find out what other secrets Zurich was keeping.

  After dropping Gerald off in Brooklyn, Sean suggested a quiet coffee shop, in midtown Manhattan, where they could get sandwiches. Once they arrived and found a small table near a window looking out on Broadway, it was Zurich who had the first question.

  “How do you like living in New York, Sean?”

  “Sometimes I love it and there are times when I think I have lost my mind,” Sean said.

  “What do you do when you’re not working?”

  “Well, sometimes I just go to bookstores and see what’s new. You know with books and magazines. I roller blade in Central Park, and I try to spend a lot of time with my nephew.” Sean was beginning to wonder who was the reporter. But he liked the fact that Zurich was interested in his life.

  “Oh, he’s a great kid. I really enjoyed meeting him and your sister. You guys look like twins,” Zurich said. Sean thought this was the perfect opening, but he was a bit nervous considering how to ask Zurich about his brother. Maybe if he had a beer, it would relax him.

  “Twins … hum, that’s interesting. I want to thank you for what you did for Gerald. I mean the autograph and the jersey. Man, that was great. Did you see the look on his face when you gave him your jersey? I don’t think he will ever be the same,” Sean said.

  “No problem. Glad to do it. I mean you and Gerald saved me from that asshole reporter. I wanted to say to him what part of no comment don’t you understand, jerk,” Zurich said.

  “Do you want to talk about that?”

  “I’m sorry, Sean, but no comment goes for you, too. But, off the record, I will tell you that no charges have been filed and there is not an ounce of truth to it,” Zurich said confidently.

  “Understood.”

  A waiter came over,
and Zurich and Sean both ordered turkey sandwiches and coffee. Then Sean suddenly changed his beverage to a Molson’s beer. They continued their small talk about the game and about the Cougars’ chances of ever winning another game. Zurich said his hopes were still really high and that he was feeling more comfortable in the NFL. He mentioned his encounter with Basil Henderson and asked Sean if he had ever interviewed him. Sean said, “No,” and decided against telling him about the party where he had met Basil.

  After a couple of swigs of his beer, Sean thought it was now or never, so he looked seriously across the table and said, “Zurich.”

  “Yeah, Sean,” Zurich said as he took a napkin and wiped mustard from his lips.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s personal,” Sean said.

  “I’m game. Ask your question,” Zurich said firmly.

  “Tell me about your brother,” Sean said.

  “My brother? You mean my brothers?” Zurich asked.

  “Not your brothers. I’m talking about one specific brother. Tell me about Zachary.”

  Zurich didn’t ask how Sean had found out about Zachary. He just looked at him and then moved his eyes around the small coffee shop and back toward Sean. His gaze became a stare, there was a respectful silence, and Zurich began to speak, as if he had been waiting for someone to ask.

  “He was my best friend. He was born first. About thirty minutes before me. We were born on the same day as the first Super Bowl. January 15, 1967. Who played in that game? I know you know who played in the first Super Bowl.” Zurich paused as if he was trying to remember the teams. It would take his mind away from the pain the memory of his twin brought.

  “Green Bay and Kansas City,” Sean replied. “It was Green Bay and Kansas City,” he repeated.

  “The Green Bay Packers and the Kansas City Chiefs. All my folks used to say was someday we would play pro ball or some type of sports. When we were real little, down in Mississippi and Florida, no one wanted to play football with us, so Zach and me would play against each other. I would be the Green Bay Packers, and Zach would be the Kansas City Chiefs. Sometimes we would switch. It didn’t matter who won. I think we liked it better when we played alone,” Zurich said as he smiled to himself. “When we played with other people, we always had to be on the same team. Sometimes I would play quarterback. Zach would be my receiver and then sometimes I would be the receiver.”