The Fourth of July

by Erica Hale

  “Yeah. It’s me. It’s going down tonight.”

  The person on the other end of the phone added his reassurance.

  “Look, this thing will come down and come down pretty quickly. I need you here now.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” the receiver of the call said. “We’ll be there.”

  Leland hung up the phone and slammed the door to this truck. It was late afternoon and the sun was glaring down on him as walked through the dense woods back to Lauren’s house. Leland hugged the tree line, staring up at her home. Once he was in the backyard, his posture became relaxed, her neighbors, an elderly couple were already out trying to catch the holiday sales.

  With little pressure, he pressed on the living room window and slid it over. He paused for a second to listen to the house. Just the sound of cascading fall of shower water filled the void of the house. Hopefully, it was her in the shower and not the kid. If Momma bear saw him while her child was in a vulnerable state, this could go all wrong.

  Lifting and dropping one booted foot then the other, Leland was in the house. Creeping, soundless, he rounded the corner and made his way up the stairs. Skipping the weak boards of the steps, a tad of guilt hit him. He knew the outline of her home from the numerous times he had been here while she was at work. And her son was completely clueless of his presence. Leland knew this woman’s life like he knew her home. Too well.

  At the top of the stairs, Leland strained to listen. The boy was at the end of the hall listening to some music. He was singing along.

  Lauren’s bedroom door was cracked, with his index finger. He pushed it open at the same moment that the shower stopped. On tiptoes, he molded himself to the wall next to the bathroom door.

  The bathroom door opened, and like fog from a rock concert, steam rolled out of the door.

  Lauren stepped out of the bathroom with a fresh blue towel barely covering herself.

  “Anthony, you need to start getting ready. We have that thing at the church.”

  Leland, with limited options, lifted her off the ground with a firm arm around her waist and his hand over her mouth. She was too shocked to struggle.

  He took her back into the bathroom, kicked the door closed and pinned her against.

  “Now, you are going to have to listen to me. It’s not safe here,” he told her.

  Lauren’s eyes surprised him because she wasn’t giving him the ‘get the hell out of my house’ face. It was more than that. It was fear. Her eyes were wide with tears starting to form in them.

  “Lauren, you are going to have to trust me.” He let her go and her wet feet fell back to the floor. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.” Hand still over her mouth, Lauren’s knee went up to give him another kick to his groin.

  Leland caught it and held her bent leg, pulling it closer to him. “We aren’t gonna have a repeat of the other night, are we?” he asked.

  Lauren stayed stone still with Leland pressed against her.

  “Now,” Leland started. “If you scream, I’m gonna tie you up. You understand?” It took her longer than he liked for her to nod ‘yes’.

  He removed his hand, but his body still had her glued to the door. Her chin was high on his chest. “I’m going to have you and the kid out of here. Take everything that you can, carry to the garage and put it and your car.

  Leland caught her towel before it could fall to the floor. She still looked up at him, being that her back was still to the bathroom door. “Get the kid. Get in your car and don’t look back. Lauren, please, just go.”

  He could barely hear her when she whispered, “Why? Do you and your friends hate us that bad? You hate the color of my skin so much that you would break into my home, slash my tires and threaten to…harm me?”

  Leland’s eyes closed. He inhaled and let his tobacco breathe blow over her head. “I don’t hate you…. I. I want to keep you safe, so you need to get out of Planters while you and the kid still can.”

  He took his hand from her chest to secure her towel. The events of the last few weeks began to swirl in her head.

  “The question was rhetorical. I know how you people truly feel about me. Now, if you would excuse me, my son and I have an event to go to.” Pushing him off, she turned to open the bathroom door.

  Lauren stepped out and Leland took one broad step in front of her.

  “Just leave,” she said, exhausted. “Just go to whatever rock you’ve crawled from up under.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you promise me that this will be the last night you spend here.”

  Leland folded his arms.

  Readjusting her towel, she spoke “I have business here, and when I’m done, then and only then will I decide to leave.”

  Taking her arm in a firm grip. Leland bent down in her face. “If you don’t get your little ass out of here, I swear to God I will tie you and the kid up. I will throw you both in the back of my wreaker and take you to the other end of the planet if I have to.”

  Speaking through gritted teeth, Leland was beginning to sweat. His temper had hit the level of boil when she smirked back at him.

  “What the hell are you smiling at?”

  “You.” She shrugged and pulled her arm out of his hand. “You come in here acting like you want to help me. When all you want is to be some sort of racist asshole.” His mouth dropped. “Really? You’re going to get all surprised on me? Yeah, like I don’t know how the good ol’ boys down here roll. I’m more than certain that the second you leave from here, you will slither your ass over to my neighbor’s house and laugh on how you scared the nigger.”

  “Don’t you ever say that word in my presence again, ya hear?” he growled.

  Lauren twisted up her lips. “You don’t have to be in my presence, you can leave.”

  “Look,” Leland started. “I’ll give you money to leave. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

  “I have money. Besides, I have unfinished business here.”

  “Shit. Lauren, the second that you leave this house, it will be burned to the ground.” That got her attention. “And if you wait too long, the blaze will start while you and your son are in it. Grab your shit and take off now. I don’t want to repeat myself.”

  Lauren sat on the edge of her bed. The realization of being killed and that the threat on her life was real fell on her.

  “You want to kill us that bad?”

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  He sighed.

  “You backwater piece of shit. I have a son.” Just the thought of Anthony hurt started the internal crack in her soul. “And here we are in the post-racial America that they keep talking about.”

  Leland got on his knees in front of her. “Get everything that you can carry into your SUV. I’ll help you, but we have to move fast. Put some clothes on and I will meet you downstairs.”

  Leland stood, leaving her on her bed shell shocked. There was a part of him that wanted to console her, tell her that he would take care of everything if she would let him. Right now, there was no time for it. No time for him to get any closer to her, no time to hold her hand through it.

  At the lower level of the house, he heard the sound that he prayed that he wouldn’t ever hear. The sound that rattled his insides. Two loud shots rang through the otherwise silent neighborhood. Leland pulled his forty-five from his back holster and opened the front door. He took aim as the door from across the street flew open.

  Ernest Junior ran like he was on fire out the door and down the street with his dad’s gun in his hand.

  Chapter 7

  Expecting to see chaos in Ernest’s house, the scene was just how Leland had left it.

  “Jesus,” Leland said.

  He would never called Ernest a friend, more like a forced acquaintance.

  Ernest was belly up. His eyes were staring at the ceiling fan. There was really no need to check him for a pulse. With the quarter sized hole in his chest and cheek, he knew that the man was dead.
>
  There was no need to call Forrest. That piece of worthless flesh wouldn’t know what to do. And Ernest’s little brother Marvin would have a fit seeing his brother this way. Leland took the quick course of action. He had to try to find the kid.

  Looking back to Lauren’s house, Leland decided not to tell her. If she felt that her son was in danger it could make this already volatile situation worse. The kid was long gone by the time Leland started his engine to his wrecker. He didn’t have a clue where he would run off to, but he knew there weren’t many places to hide.

  ★★★★★★★★★★

  “So, we’re moving back to Washington then?”

  A smile began to form on Anthony’s face.

  “Yeah, we are. Just pack enough to get you through the next few days.” Anthony pulled his bags out of the closet and started to load up. “Just take the stuff that you really need.”

  I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that everything else will either be burnt to a crisp or smoked out.

  Thinking of the days of being a courtroom journalist, I saw liars every day. I had slipped Mr. Leland into the category when I went downstairs and he was nowhere to be found. It was for the best anyway. Leave now, even if he was lying about the fire, Anthony and I had worn out our welcome here in Planters.

  “Mom, all my clothes are in the car. When do we leave?” Anthony stood there looking so handsome and tall.

  I couldn’t help but smile at him.

  “First, we should go to this thing at the church, then we will hit the road. I’ll still need to call Nana and Papa about us coming back.”

  “Mom, can I ask you something?”

  I silently prayed that I wouldn’t have to tell my child another lie.

  “What’s up?”

  Anthony always did this thing when he was uncomfortable with a situation. Like the time in the eighth grade when he asked me where the g-spot was. He started to sway from side to side and gnawed on the inside of this cheek. “You know you can ask me anything.”

  “Why did we come all the way out here just to turn right back around? We could have stayed back in Washington. We don’t know anybody here, it’s hotter than hell and all the crazy stuff that’s been happening. Just why?”

  Protect or lie, I thought staring up at my son.

  “I came here to find out the truth about a matter back home. Dragging you out here was a mistake, I should’ve come by myself. I should have had Nana and Papa look after you. But I’ve never said I was smart or that I think shit out. It’s a horrible habit, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Please God, let this be in the end.

  Hopefully on my death bed I would be able answer every single question that he had.

  “Well, if it matters, I think you are smart. I guess one day you are going to tell me. But today won’t be the day, right?”

  “Now you are the smart one. Go upstairs, cut off all the lights so we can get out of here.”

  ★★★★★★★★★★

  “What in the hell are you doing here? Does your daddy know that you here?” Forrest shook his head at Ernest Junior, who passed right by the sheriff and took a seat at his kitchen table. “Boy you better answer me; I don’t need your dad coming over here with any trouble.”

  After killing his dad, there was limited options on where to go. The sheriff’s house was less than a mile from his own. Ernest had another plan on why he came here first.

  Forrest had his hand around his third beer of the afternoon. He followed the young man to his kitchen.

  “I gotta make him proud. I gotta make him know that I can do this,” the boy said, staring down at his muddy shoes.

  Slapping the boy on the back, he said “Your dad is what we call old school. He loves ya, but he ain’t gonna tell ya. That’s how dads are. You need to get your little ass out of here before your cheek isn’t gonna be the only thing bruised. Now come on and get out of here.” Forrest pulled at Ernest’s forearm to get him out of the house. Ernest sprang up on his feet and put the gun in Forrest’s face. “Whoa, son. Now take it easy, put the gun down before you get yourself in more trouble than you’re already in.”

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t you come any closer, you hear me? Don’t.” The screech of the chair almost made the boy squeeze out a round. “I just want to make him proud of me, ya know? He doesn’t even respect me.”

  Years of held back tears started to drip down Ernest’s face.

  Gun barrel still aimed at Forrest, he said, “Son, you need to put it down. Your daddy is going to give you more than you can take if he catches you.” With the fifteen years on the force, Forrest has never been on this side of the trigger in his life. Sweat crept down his back and snaked down his forehead to the tip of his nose. “Put the gun down.”

  Ernest’s eyes snapped open as if he was in a previous trance. “Where are the rest of your guns?” he asked, looking from right to left. “I know that you have a whole bunch stocked pile around here. Where are they?”

  “Now, son you need--”

  Stabbing the gun to Forrest’s forehead, “I don’t want to ask you again. Where are they?”

  The kick back of the gun stung Ernest’s wrist as he fired into Forrest’s shoulder. Forrest toppled over the kitchen table and hit the ground. He rolled around, clutching his wounded shoulder. “Dammit, boy! Now I don’t even care if your daddy kills you.”

  “You never came to my rescue before. Tell me now. Or…or I’ll put one in between your eyes.”

  Ernest’s smile was wide and wicked as he glared down at his dad’s friend.

  With confidence that he never knew he had, Ernest squatted to the side of the sheriff, “Anthony was my friend and now he doesn’t even want to look at me. You made me take him jail. You knew I didn’t want to do that. My dad gave me a good beating after that, did you know that?” Forrest blinked back tears, praying not to lose consciousness. “I should kill you for that right now.”

  Forrest’s bloody hand shot out, trying to grip the boy. “Son, I didn’t know that your daddy would hit you for that. I swear on my mother’s grave. I swear to you.” Forrest licked his lips. “Just take me to the hospital and we will forget that this ever happened. I’ll say that it was accident. You can walk away from this. I’ll protect you.”

  Ernest stood over Forrest. The gun low was but steady.

  “When I needed you to protect me, you sat there watching. You and Uncle Marvin, just watched as my dad beat me into the ground.” He paused. “Tell me where your gun stash is and I will call somebody to come get cha.”

  Weighting out his options, Forrest began to dig in his pocket. Ernest cocked his dad’s gun. “Whoa. Just giving you the key,” he said, tossing the key to the boy. “Go in the TV room, there’s a cabinet. Everything should be in there.”

  Ernest took the key and started out of the kitchen, then caught himself. He threw the keys back at Forrest. “You open it.”

  Forrest grimaced and pulled himself from off the ground.

  “Hurry up,” he demanded, poking him in the back with the gun.

  “Remember you shot me. I’m going as fast as I can.”

  “Be happy that I didn’t get ya in the leg. Now move it.”

  Forrest held on to his upper arm as it continued to spurt blood. Dropping the keys with blood slippery hands, he opened the cabinet and there stood an arsenal. Ernest thought with all the guns and ammo in this cabinet, Forrest could take on the whole town of Planters.

  “Now let me call someone before I bleed out.”

  Snatching a bag from inside of the deep cabinet, Ernest began to fill it up with a double barrel shotgun and two handguns with extra ammo.

  “Tell me something, Mr. Forrest. When my dad was beating the living shit out of me, what were you thinking about?” He turned his full attention to Forrest. “What was going through your mind last spring when he broke my arm? Or on Christmas when he knocked me unconscious?

  The sheriff’s eyes began to roll back. S
tanding up straight was beginning to become harder by the second as a puddle of blood began to form at his feet. “Kid, your dad was a mean son of a bitch. I’m sorry.” His balance became unsteady and Forrest began to wobble. “Please call someone. I’m ‘bout to pass out here, kid.”

  Ernest pulled up his shirt to show his ribs. “See this one? This is when I spilled beer on the carpet. He kicked me until I pissed blood for a week.”

  Forrest eyes closed, not because the sight of the kids misplaced ribs disturbed him, but the fact that he couldn’t keep them open any longer.

  “Look at it!” he shouted. “You sat there and acted like it wasn’t happening. You just watched the game and ignored my beatings.”

  “Kid, I’m sorry,” Forrest whispered, his body ignoring his mind to stand. He gave up and tumbled back to the floor. “Call someone, please.”

  His eyes fluttered.

  “No need to call, you’ll see my dad at any second,” Ernest let one more shot off of his dad’s gun. A sense of relief washed over Ernest from watching Forrest’s head part in half. “In hell.”

  ★★★★★★★★★★

  “There seems to be a lot of stuff going on. Just go around and find some rides to get on,” I said to my Anthony, who wasn’t too much enthused about being at a church carnival.

  Anthony sighed. “Mom, everything is for little kids. I’m sure they aren’t going to let me ride the ponies.”

  I had to dig deep in my purse for my wallet. “Take it. Get something to eat. Play darts, go to the dunk tank, I don’t care. I have to take care of some business and then we are out of here. “Trust me,” I said pinching his cheeks. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  “Sure.”

  Turning on his heels, I watched as he quickly got lost in the crowd of people.

  Trying not to make myself look too obvious, I tried to walk casually back to the church while glancing back at the text message that Francine sent me. They were meeting in the church basement.

  Taking the long stairwell, I knocked at the first door on the right. Nadine smiled when she saw it was me after opening the door. “You’re right on time,” she said. “We’re about to start.”