Dark Town Redemption

by Gary Hardwick

  “Heard you refused to sign a bluepact,” said Frank.

  “Yes,” said Thomas. “Is that why-—?”

  “I know the bluepact is nonsense and truth be told, they don’t really mean anything like they used to but it’s a loyalty sign, a test and you failed.”

  “Did Brady’s dad call you?” asked Thomas sensing a conspiracy. “I know he’s a friend.“

  “It don’t matter who told me. What matters is you do the right thing.”

  “They might have killed Ned,” said Thomas. “And they probably took that shot at me, do you realize that?” Thomas’ voice had risen.

  “If they did, they had a right!” said Frank loudly.

  Thomas looked around. He didn’t want his mother and Katie to hear this.

  “Your mother and Katie are out shopping or something,” said Frank reading his expression. “They didn’t want to watch the game with me.”

  Thomas wanted to ask his father if he had heard him right but he knew that he had. He got out of his seat and turned to the old man.

  “How can you say that? They had a right to make an attempt on my life? To kill another cop?“

  “You don’t know if they killed Ned. And they only wanted to scare you,” said Frank. “Any good shot could have—-“

  “What? Killed me? Do you even know what you’re saying?” asked Thomas loudly.

  “It’s the way things are. Cops have to look out for their own,” said Frank not flinching at the tense look on his son’s face. “You can’t just go your own way. How will that make me look?”

  “My life isn’t about you,” said Thomas moving closer to his father. “It’s not for you to impress you old cop buddies while you talk about the good old days when you could beat defenseless Negroes and not get in trouble for it.”

  “Who the hell are you talking to, boy?” said Frank.

  “When I go to the Grand Jury, I’ll make my own decision and I’ll make it for me, not for you.”

  “You gonna be a rat, turn on your brothers and washout of the force like you did the Army?”

  His father looked like a stranger now, a nasty little man who had broken into the house and claimed the face of the man who’d raised him. Thomas felt none of the love or respect that he’d given to that face.

  “Go to hell,” said Thomas.

  Thomas headed for the door but didn’t make it before Frank had a hand on his shoulder and was turning him around. He pushed the older man from him. Frank gained his footing and lunged at Thomas. Thomas stepped to one side raising his fists.

  The two men turned to each other, ready for the fight. A moment passed and then Thomas dropped his hands. He walked to his father and then by him. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

  “You get back here!” Frank yelled but Thomas flung the door open and headed out. “I mean it, don’t come back if you leave, Shaun!”

  This stopped Thomas where he stood. He turned to face the old man who was just realizing what he had said. Frank’s face was his own again but it was sad and embarrassed. But there it was, the truth, as real and awful as it always was.

  “I’m not....” said Thomas and then he stopped; a small click sounded in his throat as though something had shut off a switch. His eyes burned with emotion, filling with liquid.

  There was no need to finish the sentence, no need to exert his existence by denying his brother’s identity and then he realized the two words that he did utter had another, more awful meaning.

  Thomas turned away from his father and moved through the door.

  The cool air outside tingled his skin. Thomas walked away from his former home. He felt the presence of his father behind him, slipping into a long, dark silence.

  28

  GAME SEVEN

  October 10, 1968.

  The city streets were empty again. Everyone was getting ready for the game. The series had been one of the best that anyone could remember.

  And there was so much more than baseball glory riding on it for the little city by the narrow river. Many would say later that the fate of Detroit hung in the balance. Others would write that perhaps it was the soul of a nation that was at stake.

  Robert was at home with Denise who was feeling better lately. Even she had gotten baseball fever and was in a rooting mood. Her belly swelled and her face had taken on thickness. She looked so different from the lithe girl who used to fly around the track and Pershing, her brown legs a blur in the summer sun.

  Every time Robert looked at her, he had dreams of his child. He hoped he was bringing him into a better world.

  Yusef had informed Robert that after the game was over, they had to strike as soon as they could. They’d wait until the team came home.

  In victory or defeat it would be a big deal and the city would be distracted. If they won, then The Guard would bring the city crashing town. And if they lost, then their call to action would plunge the city into the abyss of their darkest despair.

  Robert had agreed but his heart was not completely in it. The attack on the cops would rip the ailing city open. And then what? How many more people would die, how many homes burned after this violent act? How much more death would he see before life changed?

  He realized with a sudden jolt that he never understood what he was fighting for in Vietnam and the fight at home was looking even more nebulous.

  Denise smiled at him from across the room and his heart filled with a river of swirling emotion.

  **********

  Thomas was at home amid the nothingness he’d built in the tiny apartment, accompanied only by the beer he was drinking and the picture of the dead boy.

  He had not talked to his father since the fight and he didn’t care to. They were all that was left of the Riley men and the gulf between them seemed impossible to cross. He wondered what Shaun and Cahan would do if they could see the disgrace they had become.

  Thomas’ Grand Jury subpoena was delayed. Like everything else, the World Series had put it on hold. He was somewhat relieved though he knew it was only a matter time. The series would end and then the wheels of justice would go back into motion.

  Brady and Reid had already been called. The two would not say anything about what had happened. They kept to themselves and away from Thomas.

  Thomas tried to get some information on their testimony but he was no longer trusted at the station and so after a few attempts, he’d given up.

  Thomas guessed that he was always called after Brady and Reid because the Grand Jury considered him to be the prize of the investigation. They wanted to trap them all with any inconsistencies they found and they sensed that he was not nearly as good a liar as they other two men.

  He wondered why they hadn’t killed him. If Frank was right then they had surely had a chance at the phony police call. Ned was a loner, old and had been really angry. Thomas was young and a department legacy. He had so much more to lose by talking than Ned.

  Still, he felt like a trapped man. He only wanted to do an important job, get married, start a family of his own, have kids and not repeat the mistakes that had been made by his father. But somehow, it had all gone to shit and he’d been left with nothing. No job, no family, no love.

  Fate had taken away so much from him the last year and now it seemed all he had was the game, the game and his hope for a win.

  **********

  Throughout

  Detroit, the citizens replaced their racial struggles with the struggles of their team. The pain of the last year was great and the fight to find harmony had not ended.

  Now victory for Black and White Detroit did not look any different from the battle being fought on the baseball diamond. Everyone watched with rapt attention, seeing redemption in each pitch and hope in each swing of the bat.

  The game traveled into the ninth inning with Detroit leading.

  Tim McCarver came up for the Cardinals with two outs in the ninth, their last chance. He popped up the ball.

  Bill Freehan, the catcher frantically
waved his teammates away as the ball crested and began its plunge back to earth.

  Time and hearts stood still as the little white orb fell. The convergence of fate filled hearts with pure energy. The ball landed in the thick folds of the catcher’s mitt.

  It was over.

  The Tigers poured onto the field. The players hugged, cried and shouted their victory.

  And in Detroit, the people Black and White, ran from their houses into the streets in celebration.

  29

  WOODWARD

  Thousands jammed Woodward Avenue as the heroes rode down the street, smiling and waving to the faithful amid showers of confetti.

  Robert, Denise, Abraham and Theresa were among the crowd at the parade downtown. Robert couldn’t help but notice the races, so long against one another, mingling effortlessly. No one seemed to remember a city on fire and cluttered with death and chaos.

  Yusef had urged Robert to strike during the parade, but Robert had stayed away with the detonator. This was history and he wanted to be part of it before he got back to business.

  “You’d never know there was a riot here,” Robert said to Denise.

  “Makes you wonder why we can’t do it all the time,” she said absently.

  “God is good,” said Theresa.

  “God loves baseball,” said Abraham with a big smile.

  “Marcus would have loved this,” said Robert and for the first time, no sorrow followed the invocation of his brother’s name.

  “Yes, he would have,” said Abraham.

  Theresa agreed and Robert could see none of the grief and sadness his mother’s face used to hold whenever his brother’s name was brought up.

  “There’s Willie Horton!” said Abraham and he waved.

  “He’s handsome,” said Denise.

  “He sure is,” said Theresa smiling. It was very uncharacteristic for her to comment on the attractiveness of any man. Robert’s head jerked around at the comment and then he uttered a small laugh.

  “Never seen so many people in one place,” said Denise. “It’s gonna take days to clean up this mess.”

  They watched as the heroes kept rolling by and the crowd cheered their favorites.

  Suddenly, Robert pulled Denise close to him and put his face to her ear.

  “If we have a boy, let’s name him after Marcus."

  **********

  Thomas worked the crowd with his new partner, Zack Wilson, a young Negro officer. Zack was earnest, hard-working and very thankful to be on the street.

  After the shooting incident, Thomas allowed himself to take a Black partner. He didn’t know it but his action would have an effect on the entire force in the coming years.

  “I’m a basketball fan myself,” said Zack, “but this is great.”

  “The greatest,” said Thomas. “I’m never going to forget this.”

  Thomas waved to Mickey Lolich, who tipped his hat to him and Zack. As the vehicle carrying the pitcher moved away, it revealed Robert, Denise and their family on the other side of the wide street.

  Thomas saw Robert and his family, but they did not see him. Robert hugged a very pregnant woman. That had to be his wife, thought Thomas. There were two older people, who favored Robert. Mother and father, he reasoned. Thomas was filled with a subtle envy. His tormentor seemed to have everything that he wanted.

  Zack told Thomas that they had to move on, keep pace with the procession. Thomas moved off and as he did, he realized what had been taken from Robert’s family. The brother was gone, just like Shaun, a gaping wound in a family’s love. And yet they had gotten over it.

  Thomas thought of the Polaroid at his apartment. He thought of Sarah, her fiery green eyes and he knew finally what she had meant. A person who could not adapt to the changes in life was doomed to unhappiness and would bring grief to all he loved.

  That was not a future.

  Much like the riots, it was oblivion.

  Thomas moved on, looking at the elated, racially mixed crowd and understood that the people had embraced something larger than race, politics, hatred, and the ignorance that is sometimes humanity.

  Detroit had been plunged into a chasm of inhumanity and it took a simple game, a simple metaphor for life to remind the people of their capacity to forgive and their power to heal.

  It was implausible really, he thought, the kind of thing a child wishes for in his earnest heart, but somehow it had been enough. The city had been redeemed.

  30

  RED BUTTON

  As Robert and Denise got close to the apartment, he saw Thomas Riley in plain clothes, waiting for them near the entrance.

  Robert froze. He did not have a weapon on him but he vowed that no harm would come to his wife and their baby.

  The cop saw them and sensing some apprehension, Thomas held up his arms in surrender.

  “Who is it?” asked Denise.

  “That cop,” said Robert. “Riley.”

  Denise stopped in her tracks and gripped his arm tightly. He reassured her and they walked up to the man.

  “What do you want?” asked Robert.

  “Just to talk,” said Thomas pulling his arms down. To Denise he said, “Hi, ma’am.”

  Denise didn’t respond. She looked at Robert who told her to go inside the apartment and wait for him. Normally, she would have protested but given her condition, she did not.

  “So, you here to arrest me?” asked Robert.

  “No,” said Thomas.

  “Then get to your business. I got things to do.”

  Thomas’ face turned serious and he took a deep breath. “My older brother, Shaun was killed in Korea. My father took it hard. I think he buried a piece of his heart that day. Our family has never been the same since then.”

  “So does that make us even or something?” asked Robert but there was no anger in his voice this time.

  “No. I just know how you feel, I think,” said Thomas. “My family-— we’ve spent our lives trying to make up for that loss.” Thomas stopped for a moment and it was clear that he’d come to some kind of finality in a long struggle. “I’m going to the Grand Jury and tell them the truth.”

  “Did you kill my brother?” Robert asked.

  “No,” said Thomas. “But I think I know who did.”

  “The other two cops?”

  “Yes,” said Thomas. “And they may have killed my partner and took a shot at me the other night.”

  “Damn,” Robert said under his breath.

  “Brady and Reid got to your brother first. I heard a shot and ran toward it and they were already there over his body. I saw Matt Reid take out the knife, open it with a handkerchief and then place it by his hand.”

  Robert seemed close to tears as he took this in. “If you’re looking for forgiveness, I ain’t got none.”

  “I don’t want it,” said Thomas, “but I’d be happy if you could take this back.” Thomas reached into his pocket and took out the Polaroid. “I think he’d be happier in your house.”

  Robert took the photo and pocketed it. The smiling face on it didn’t break his heart now; it only invoked memories of who Marcus had been.

  “So, what’s gonna happen to you after you testify?” asked Robert.

  “I don’t know,” said Thomas. “They could suspend or fire me. No matter what happens, I won’t be able to work with the cops in that station again.”

  “Too bad,” said Robert. “I’m thinking even a half- honest cop is kinda rare in your profession.”

  “Not really,” said Thomas. “I gotta get going now.” He turned to go and then he asked: “So when is she due?”

  “Soon,” Robert managed a smile.

  “Congratulations.”

  Thomas walked. Suddenly, he stopped, turned and asked: “Hey, how about them Tigers?”

  “Yeah,” said Robert. “How about ‘em?”

  Robert went inside and checked on Denise and filled her in. She asked if she could give the good news to his parents and he agreed.


  As Denise called, Robert grabbed the detonator from its hiding place and checked the battery inside.

  31

  BLACK BUTTON

  When he arrived at the new safehouse the next day, Robert found an angry Yusef waiting with most of the members. Bohan had been transferred to the main room and Robert knew this did not bode well.

  The membership stood in a circle around Bohan. Vince, his former best friend was looking particularly happy.

  Linda was there wearing a Tiger’s hat. She smiled at Robert and he returned it.

  “Glad you could join us,” said Yusef.

  “Sorry but I told you I couldn’t do it while the celebration was going on,” said Robert.

  “Well, now it’s over,” said Yusef. “And we have plenty of unfinished business. First, this traitor, here.”

  Bohan looked a little better. Robert supposed that they had cleaned him up for his execution. How humane, Robert thought.

  Bohan still had the blindfold on and now Yusef removed it. The light stung Bohan’s eyes as it was removed. Bohan looked around with true fear on his face.

  “Get it over with,” Bohan said his voice sounding distressed. “I’m tired of this shit.”

  Yusef responded by taking out a .38 from his waistband and holding it to his side. Yusef didn’t look around to anyone and Robert understood that he had decided to do this himself.

  “Don’t I get a last request?” asked Bohan thickly.

  “Hell no!” yelled Vince.

  Robert had never liked the idea of killing the cop. But if he tried to help Bohan, surely they would all rise up against him. Still, he felt that he had to help, maybe make it easier on the man. And then he heard Bohan speak.