Dark Town Redemption

by Gary Hardwick

  Thomas straightened up his stance at this. He immediately went into a defensive posture, putting a little distance between himself and the bigger man.

  “What do you want?” asked Thomas.

  “I just need some information,” said Robert.

  “Is there a problem?” Dennison called from behind Robert.

  “No,” said Thomas confidently and not turning around. He said it looking right at Robert as if to say there had better not be. “I'm sorry for your loss but the whole thing is a matter of record now.”

  “I'm not buying that record,” said Robert and moved closer. “Not buying it.”

  Thomas didn’t back away and he spoke up loudly and clearly so that there would be no mistakes about his intentions. “Look, you need to consider where you are. You can talk to the other cops on the case but I have nothing to say.”

  Thomas stepped around Robert, headed for the door. If the man was foolish enough to touch him, he would be taken down in about two seconds.

  “I would have, but they didn't come to my brother's funeral, like you did.”

  Thomas stopped against his own will and turned. “What?” he asked.

  I got good eyes, officer,” said Robert. “All that training in Vietnam. I saw you at my brother’s funeral. The question is why were you there?”

  Thomas couldn’t manage a word. He wanted to deny it, to lie and say he hadn’t been the one but to do that seemed to be beyond him and somehow another indignity to the dead boy.

  “You’re crazy,” he said to Robert.

  Dennison and another officer walked up to Robert and Thomas who were now locked in a staring match.

  “Everything okay here?” asked Dennison who was a towering presence and his arms looked like they were made of steel.

  The other officer was smaller but looked just as tough. Robert quickly sized them up but did not back down from the confrontation. If it got ugly, he’d surprise the big one with an attack and the little one would be so shocked that it would give him an opening.

  “Everything’s okay, Sarge,” said Thomas. “I'm going my way and he's going his.” And to Robert, Thomas said “Right?”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” said Robert.

  “You can’t walk in a police house and get belligerent with a cop,” said Thomas. He felt that he had to be assertive now that there was an audience.

  Other people were watching the strange scene. Three White cops facing off with a Black man wearing the nation’s proud uniform.

  “I’m waiting on that answer,” said Robert defiantly.

  “That’s it,” said Dennison.

  Dennison and the other officer stepped around Thomas and grabbed Robert by either arm. Robert didn’t resist. He locked his gaze on Thomas and held it all the way to the door.

  They pulled Robert to the front door and gently shoved him out onto the steps.

  Thomas watched as they released Robert on the front steps. Dennison pointed a beefy finger at Robert and said something, which elicited no verbal response from Robert. Thomas saw Robert salute and then walk off.

  “What the hell was that all about?” asked Dennison when he came back.

  “Nothing,” said Thomas. “Guy’s nuts.” He tried desperately to look like he didn’t care.

  “All us Marines are,” Dennison laughed a little.

  “You think that kook is a real Marine?” asked the other officer.

  “Oh yeah, that uniform was the real deal,” said Dennison. “Two Purple Hearts, too.”

  Dennison and the other officer walked off. Thomas turned to look for his partner. Then he remembered that Ned was being questioned after him.

  He was upset but didn’t want anyone to see it. Why had the kid’s brother been so bold to come into the police station? Did he know something? And if he did, what was it?

  These questions troubled Thomas for the rest of the day and he didn’t know what was worse, the angry man who had invaded his job and tried to embarrass him or the Negroes who sat on the committee but did not speak.

  15

  THE GUARD

  The Vanguard was one of the more notorious Black militant groups. They had chapters in all the major cities and were known to be linked to White radical groups as well.

  The Guard, as they were sometimes called, was implicated in violent protest, including the firebombing of a police station in Baltimore.

  For the first time, Robert wondered why they would have taken in a boy so young. Then again, Marcus was exceptionally smart and had a lot of personality.

  Robert had gone out in search of The Guard. He was lied to, led on and robbed of his money with false information. But over the days, he gathered enough real facts to lead him where he was going today.

  Robert stood in front of a vacant building on Linwood. This was reportedly a Vanguard hideout. But no one had hidden out in this place in along time, he thought. The building teetered on its foundation and looked as though a strong wind could topple it.

  It was late afternoon and a wind was indeed blowing from the east. The faint smell of fire was still in the air and although Robert knew it was the wood and debris, it made him feel uneasy.

  He thought of Thomas Riley and their altercation at the police station. In retrospect, it seemed foolish and he was lucky he had not been taken into the back and beaten with a rubber hose.

  The confrontation had been somewhat satisfying, but in the end it was futile. He had hoped to rattle Riley and send him running to his co-conspirators. But it had not worked. He’d followed Riley that night and all it led him to was a cop bar and Riley’s pretty girlfriend.

  He knew it would be hard to break the cops, so good detective that he was, he decided to poke in the only other direction left to him on this case.

  An old Black man sat across the street from Robert on the stoop of what looked to be an occupied building. The old man was in a lawn chair smoking a cigarette. He was not watching Robert but he wasn’t not watching him either, Robert thought. The old man just looked up and down the street slowly just puffing then blowing smoke.

  Robert walked over to the old man and stood in front of him. The old man looked at the younger man and blew smoke.

  “You blocking my sun,” he said casually.

  “Ain’t you dark enough?” asked Robert.

  “Cain’t never be too Black these days,” said the old man.

  “Sorry,” said Robert and he moved aside letting the sunlight hit the man’s dark skin. “I’m looking for something.”

  “Ain’t we all,” said the old man.

  “Well, I’m looking for some men, a group really,” said Robert. “Maybe you heard of them, The Vanguard.”

  “Don’t know no guards,” said the old man lighting a cigarette off the last one. “Nothing around here but fools and hos. And if you ask me we got too much of one and not enough of the other.” He laughed a little at his own joke.

  “Well, if you ever hear of them,” said Robert. “Let me know. I hear they contact people here and so I’ll be coming back until they do.”

  “Sure,” said the old man.

  He and Robert slapped five and Robert walked off. The old man adjusted in his chair and waved the hand with the cigarette into the air.

  From down the block, two Black men came out of a doorway and began to follow Robert.

  Robert was going to a corner store he’d passed to get a drink and maybe a snack. He was going to come back to the vacant building the next day and every day after that until he saw someone who could lead him to The Vanguard.

  Robert was halfway up the block when he felt the presence behind him. He saw the two men in the reflection of a car’s windshield. This neighborhood was not known for its safety, so he kept moving, careful not to quicken his pace. If you moved faster, that was a sign that you were afraid.

  Robert turned a corner and stopped. He leaned against a building and waited for the men to come around the corner. When they did, they had moved to the other side of th
e street.

  One of the two men was bald and dark. He was a thick man who looked like an athlete. The other was fair-skinned and had a scraggly beard. The bald man looked over and saw Robert. He said something to the other man and they both crossed the street.

  Robert quickly assessed the pair. The bald man was the bigger of the two and so he’d concentrate on him. The other man didn’t look as dangerous and so Robert would intimidate that one if he needed to.

  The men got to Robert who had his arms folded as if waiting for someone.

  “You brothers lost?” asked Robert.

  “We ain’t the ones lost,” said the bald man in a menacing tone. “What you doin’ ‘round here asking questions, nigga?”

  “Look,” said Robert to the fair-skinned man. If y’all gonna try something, then get the fuck to it. You can’t scare me with this loud talkin’.

  Robert took his arms down and crouched a little as if ready for a fight.

  Both men were a little shocked. Robert just looked at the bald man then back to the other one as if waiting to see which one he would attack first.

  “We can kick yo ass if that’s what you want,” said the bald man. “All day on that.”

  “Still with the talk,” said Robert. And now he raised his hands in a fighting pose.

  The bald man coughed a laugh and raised his fists as well. He waded in to Robert.

  The fair-skinned man was about to say something when Robert stepped quickly to him and delivered a kick to his stomach. The fair-skinned man doubled over. Robert quickly moved to the injured man’s side, putting the man between himself and the bald man who was swinging wildly. The bald man ran into his partner and missed Robert by a mile.

  Robert pivoted and threw a blow that caught the bald man on the jaw. This stunned him and Robert knew he’d only have a second before he recovered.

  Robert kicked the bald man hard in the stomach, then straightened up and brought his forearm into the under side of his chin.

  The bald man fell backwards. The fair-skinned man was still on the ground holding his stomach. Robert took a step to him and the man held up a hand to say no more.

  Robert turned back to the bald man who was groaning and trying to get to his feet.

  “I assume you brothers are with The Vanguard,” said Robert. If you are, then we got business.”

  The bald man got to his feet and was ready to charge Robert. It was obvious that he was the local badass and was not used to anyone getting the better of him.

  “That’s your ass!” screamed the bald man.

  “Stop,” said the fair-skinned man getting up. “Naw, man. He had a right.” He moved between the bald man and Robert.

  “You from The Guard or not?” said Robert.

  “Supposed we was,” said the fair-skinned man.

  “Then I want to meet the man.”

  The bald man laughed. “Nigga, you crazy.”

  “I’m Marcus Jackson’s brother,” said Robert.

  The two men looked at each other for a second, then back to Robert assessing the resemblance. The bald man pulled the fair skinned man away and they talked in hushed voices. The bald man was obviously upset and wanted to keep fighting and Robert supposed that’s what he was talking about. Finally, the fair-skinned man walked back to Robert.

  “Okay, but you gotta wear this,” said the fair-skinned man. He held out a black blindfold.

  Robert nodded then walked with them to a car several blocks away. Robert got in and the bald man sat next to him in the backseat.

  Robert put the blindfold on and expected to feel a gun jabbed into his ribs. Then they would beat him and dump his body from the moving vehicle. But all he felt was the rumble of the car’s engine as it started and rolled down the street.

  Robert’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the light as the blindfold was removed a half hour later. He stood in the middle of a big room. It was dimly lit and there were tables and chairs pushed against the walls, which were painted with afrocentric pictures. On the far wall, was a black fist holding America in its grasp.

  Standing before Robert was a man about his age. He was tall and rough looking. His skin was dark and scarred near the chin and he stood under a crown of hair styled into an immaculate Afro. Robert thought he looked like a less handsome version of the pro football player, Fred Williamson.

  “Why didn’t you just say you were Marcus’ brother?” asked the man. His voice was flat, nasally and higher than Robert thought it would be.

  Robert stood in the middle of a room with the new man and the ones he’d beaten up.

  “Didn’t have a chance,” said Robert. “Your boys came at me hard, so I did what I had to do.”

  The man with the immaculate Afro laughed showing a row of white teeth. “You must be bad,” he said. “Vince and Bohan here are two of my best men. I’m Yusef.”

  Robert could tell from the way he spoke that Yusef was an educated man. He had no trace of the accents common to most Blacks in the city and his words had no rhythm or melody in them; they were pronounced crisply and cleanly.

  Robert walked over to the two men and extended his hand.

  “No hard feelings,” he said.

  Bohan and Vince just looked at Yusef who nodded. They both took turns shaking Robert’s hand.

  “Bohan,” said the bald man.

  “Vince,” said the fair-skinned man.

  “Need you to show me some of them moves,” said Bohan but he didn’t smile.

  “Is this the whole group?” Robert asked Yusef. “I pictured a lot more people.”

  “There’s more,” said Yusef. “You don’t think I’d let you see their faces before we checked you out.”

  “Makes sense,” said Robert. He moved closer to Yusef. “You know why I’m here. I want in.”

  Robert heard Vince and Bohan whispering behind him. Yusef only smiled.

  “Why?” said Yusef.

  Robert looked at the three men and for the first time it occurred to him that he was outnumbered. If they decided not to let him in, what would they do to him? And something else, he felt embarrassed. These men were trying to do something for their people and what was he doing?

  “My brother,” Robert began. “He was right. He tried to tell me but I wouldn’t listen. I can’t get my brother back but I can’t just stand by and let them do what they’re doing to us. If you won’t let me in, then I’ll do what I can on my own, but either way, something’s gonna get done.”

  Yusef looked at Robert then nodded to Vince who walked to a wall and rapped hard three times. Three doors around the room opened. The doors had been hidden by the pictures on the walls. It was real secret agent shit; Robert thought then again, these people were defying the United States government.

  Out of the doors came about thirty Black men and women all in their twenties or thirties. They moved to the center of the room and formed a circle around Robert.

  Robert scanned the faces and saw a familiar one, the young girl with the big brown eyes who stared at him at Marcus’ funeral.

  “These are some of our people,” said Yusef. “People,” he spoke louder. “This is Marcus’ brother, Robert, the one who served in Vietnam. He wants to join our illustrious organization. What do you say?”

  “Hell no!” yelled the assemblage in unison. Robert was not fazed. He got the feeling that this was always the first answer to that particular question.

  “Yes,” said a lone voice. It was the girl again.

  “Yes,” said Vince.

  “Yes,” said Bohan and surprised Robert by smiling.

  “Don’t look good, Brother Robert,” said Yusef. “Only Vince, Bohan and Linda here seem to want you. I think you might have to prove yourself.”

  Robert looked at the girl Yusef had called Linda and smiled a little. Then to Yusef he said: “Whatcha got?”

  16

  CATCH

  The baseball slammed into Thomas’ glove and he felt the familiar sting of it. Frank still had a strong right arm
and he’d really flung the last one. Thomas nodded his head to his father signaling that he respected his power.

  They played catch in Frank’s backyard. Thomas was over for dinner but had not brought Sarah along. There was always tension when she came to visit and Thomas didn’t need any more stress in his life right now.

  When Shaun and Cahan were alive, they’d play four corners catch. He smiled a little at the memory.

  When he was a kid, all he wanted was to be grown up and now that it was here, he missed the days when he was carefree. He supposed that you never had a time in life where you were completely satisfied with anything.

  Thomas reared back and threw the ball as hard as he could. Frank caught it and tossed it back just as hard.

  Thomas suddenly realized that his father was never in the nightmare in which he was always shot. But that made sense, he thought. Frank was still alive. The others were men whose time had come and had gone on to glory. He was aware that it was just the two of them now, the last of the Riley men.

  “Dinner,” said Katie from the rear door.

  Thomas threw the ball back to Frank and they both walked toward the house.

  Esther Riley was an excellent cook. In fact, it was well known in the neighborhood that she could cook any kind of food. This night, Esther had prepared Italian, Caesar salad, minestrone soup and a big beautiful beef Lasagna.

  Early in the marriage, Frank complained about his wife’s eclectic tastes in food. He was an American and he wanted American food. He held this opinion until he tasted Esther’s culinary product. Now he loved her specialties and even bragged about her prowess to his friends.

  “Sarah studying late?” asked Esther lighting up a cigarette and ignoring Thomas’ glare at the act.

  Thomas didn’t want to say what he said but it was out before he could stop it. “She's organizing a peace rally.”

  “Cool,” said Katie.