by David Skato
Her head began to idealize. “I can take at least one of them with the bat before they get a shot off. If I choose the right one, I might be able to jump through the glass like batman.”
She quickly dismissed the thought and settled down, knowing that if they wanted to kill her, she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She was in their grasps.
“These two gentlemen are from the F.B. I. They have a few questions about your partner.” Wilcox stated.
“Where are your badges?” She countered, nodding in the direction of the gentlemen.
“Mason, just cooperate!” Wilcox demanded.
The taller guy steps towards Jessi’s chair. “I’m Agent Harrison, and my is my partner Agent Ford. How well do you know Mr. Wade?”
“That’s original,” She states, smirking as she rolled her eyes and sighed. She then bounces back into serious mode.
“Well enough,” She snaps.
“Did you know he was accused of gunning down an unarmed man when he was a beat cop?” Agent Harrison asked.
“How about how he has multiple accusations of abuse and use of force? Even beating one man into a coma,” Agent Ford added.
“Why are you telling me this?” Jessi asked.
“He’s dangerous, and we want to know where he is. We know that he will contact you sooner or later.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him,” She lies.
He called you last night,” Agent Harrison countered.
Jessi froze. Her mind starts racing. “How long have they been tracing my calls? Or are they tracing his calls? Either way, she was fucked. Think Jessi, think.”
At last, she had an idea.
“Well. Yes. He said that- He said that something happened. He was hysterical, and then he just hung up. I didn’t know what that meant.”
“Is that all he said?” Agent Ford asked.
“Yes.”
“You sure? “
“Yes. Look, I know he loses his temper. He has hit me before. And his wife, Sandy, she’s my friend. She told me Dontae’ beats on her daily. She confided in me. She told me the last time we talked that he found out she was cheating. So, when he called me last night, I was scared for her. I was going to go check on her after I talked to him. I didn’t want to assume, you know - Give him the benefit of the doubt because he is my partner.” Jessi even managed to spring a tear from her right eye. “Is Sandy ok?”
“She’s dead. And Wade is the prime suspect,” Ford explained.
“No, no, no, this can’t be happening,” Jessi cried. “She can’t be. I just talked to her. We were going to go shopping next week.” She put her head down, trying not to overdo it.
“Okay, Ms. Mason. That’s all for now. If you hear from him at all, let us know.” Agent Ford says as he opens the door.
“Ok. I can’t believe this. I hope he burns in hell for what he did.” She stands up, hiding her eyes, and b-lines it directly to the restroom.
She enters a stall, lets the lid down, and takes a seat. The fake tears stop. She places her face in her palms then looks up, breathing a sigh of relief. She thinks for a moment. Before she realized it, a single tear rolls down her cheek. This one was real.
Ω
Dontae’ pulls up to a small church just outside of town off a dusty road in the middle of nowhere. The outside reader board reads: “Psalm 13:1.”
Dontae’ didn’t know much about the bible, nor was he very religious. He went to church when he was younger but not once as an adult. This was due to a traumatic experience he had when he was thirteen. Because of his mother’s addiction to alcohol and his father all-out abandoning him, he was bounced from foster home to family members and back again. This particular time he was living with his aunt, who only agreed to keep him because there was a nice government check in it for her.
“That lil money they give me ain’t even enough to feed your mouth.” She would always complain.
He really hated her. I mean, as much as you can hate family, which in his case was a lot. His aunt had a friend that would always come over. There was something so strange about how she looked at him. It was so seductive and uncomfortable that Dontae’ left the house whenever she would visit. One evening while Dontae’ was doing his chores alone in the house, the woman came to visit. He opened the door and stated that his aunt wasn’t home and would be back shortly. The woman insisted on entering the house and waiting. Although he knew this was a horrible idea, he didn’t want to seem disrespectful and be put into a boy’s home. The woman entered and sat on the living room sofa. She patted the seat next to her.
“Come over here for a sec and let Nana talk to ya.” She grinned.
Dontae’ thought about it for a second and started to ease over. He slowly took a seat, being careful not to touch the strange woman. Her hair was in these funny twists with gel sticking her edges to the side of her scalp like dried paint. Her smile was pretty but behind those shinny white teeth was something sinister. She turned his head with her index finger and went in for a kiss. Dontae’ was frozen in time. She did all the kissing while he cringed and tried to move backward. She grabbed him by the back of the head and forced her tongue down his throat. He took his hands, unintentionally placing them on her breast, and pushed her to the floor. There couldn’t be a worse moment for his aunt to walk in, so shocked at the sight that she dropped her bags, sending groceries flying in every direction.
“What the fuck are you doing Dontae’!” she screamed.
“She tried to-, “ he stammered.
The woman cut him off. “That boy got the devil in him girl!”
“But-“He tried to defend himself.
Now his aunt was in a frenzy. “-But hell! You got to get your lil ass out my house now!”
“Wait a minute Clara,” The woman spoke up. “I was about to go to church. Just let him go with me. We got to get some God in this boy.”
“You better take his ass on before I- I swear fo’ god,” His aunt screamed.
Dontae’ didn’t know what was happening. Before he knew it, he was on his way to church in swimming shorts, flip flops, and a muscle shirt. The woman didn’t know how much Clara had witnessed, but she did know that it all had to look like it was Dontae’s fault. The woman had come up with this stupid plan in an instant, and now she was stuck with him. She knew that the kid wasn’t going for the sexual advances, so with evil in her eyes, she did what she said she would do, took him to church. They pulled into the church’s packed parking lot. This must have been a special Sunday or something because everyone was dressed to perfection. The boys had on suits, and the girls wore lovely flowery dresses. The woman got out of the car and walked to the passenger side where Dontae’ sat. She opened the door and made sure to stand close to the boy, thinking that he may run.
Donate’ was so confused at this point that running didn’t cross his mind. He walked through the church doors with his head hanging low. Kids in the aisle laughed and giggled as the woman forced him to the front pew. The band was playing a fast-paced song, and people were shouting and praising all around. Dontae’ sunk in his seat, trying not to draw too much attention. He just wanted this nightmare to be over. Finally, the preacher stood and began his sermon. He talked about finding your path and then directed the subject to something that sent fear through Dontae’s body that he had never felt before.
“The bible says come as you are.” The preacher shouted. “God doesn’t care about what you wear to church!”
People started shouting and screaming, “Amen.” Dontae’ sunk lower. Suddenly, the preacher’s eyes darted towards him. “Oh shit,” the kid muttered before he knew it.
“Look at this young man!” The preacher shouted. “God told him to come today wearing flip flops. What a mighty God we serve. Come on up here!” The man shouted, waving his hand in an urging motion. The woman grabs Dontae’ by the shoulders and thrust him upwards. He never forgot the evil grin on her face. It was almost like a clown from a twisted horror movie. Dontae�
� reluctantly made it onto the stage. His head was pouring with sweat, his eye tearing up. Because of the daze that he was now in, He couldn’t make out what the preacher was saying; all he heard was babble. He could see kids in the back falling out of their pews laughing hysterically. He was thirteen. This wasn’t right. At that moment, he closed his eyes and imagined being anywhere but here. He vowed that the church was a place of hell, and if God lives here and allows this, he never wanted anything to do with God.
Now he stood in the front of “Mt. Sinai Valley Baptist Church.” He notices that there are only three cars in the parking lot but being that this was a very small church, he thought the odds of finding who he was looking for were good. He walks in.
Inside the church was the usual. Jesus on the cross headlined the back wall above the pulpit. The pews lined neatly from front to back with red seats and oak wood frames with each garnishing The Holy Bible in the small back compartment.
Dontae’ sees one woman in the back cleaning a baptism pool. He approached her with a smile.
“I’m looking for Angela Coker.”
The woman turns and looks down her glasses at him.
“I’m Angela.”
“I’m Detective wade. I want to talk with you about the accident you had about a week ago.
“I thought this was over.” The woman sighed, appearing defeated. She slowly sat down on the edge of the pool. “Okay.”
“I’ll try to make it quick. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Not much to tell really. I was going down Northside Ave, and the guy just ran out in front of me. I got out the car and-” She paused.
“And what?” he pushed.
Angela stared into space like a deer stuck in headlights. She soon shook it off and bounced back into this reality.
“Nothing. I got out of the car and called 9 - 1 - 1.” She looked down and started to shake her head. “That poor boy. He didn’t have a chance. I- I didn’t try to hit him. He was looking back. Running. He was running from something.”
“You mean from someone.” Angela looks back and up at the Crucifix.
“Angela, please tell me. No matter how it sounds. Just say it.” Dontae’ offered.
She turns back to Dontae’. “Well. When I got out, I looked to see who he was running from. I could have sworn I saw something standing in the ally. Just for a brief second. I saw it.”
She then looks into Dontae’s eyes with a gaze so deep that you would have thought she was looking into his soul. “Detective, do you believe in the devil?”
Dontae’ became very uncomfortable. He breaks the eye contact. “No.”
“Then how can you believe in God?” The woman asked, concerned.
The emotions of a broken thirteen-year-old kid started to rise to the surface. He couldn’t show this stranger his hurt.
“I believe I have to go. Thanks for your cooperation.” He steps away and heads for the door.
The woman stands as he makes his way to the aisle.
“That question wasn’t for me.” She confesses.
He looks back, being careful not to get caught into the soul glaze again, shrugs it off, and walks down the aisle, continuing out the door.
CHAPTER X
The blinding sunlight reflected off the casket into Sarah Mayhew-Stanton's eyes, who was being consoled by her husband, Garry.
“Do you ever get use to funerals?” She thought as she wept. “Death is a part of life, but I keep crying and crying. I still cry for Joseph.” Before she knew it, her thoughts transformed into words. “I don’t want to bury my baby!” She fell to the ground, reaching desperately for the casket. Garry grabs her and manages to hold her back. The pastor finishes the final verse of the scripture he had been reading.
“ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
The casket descended into the ground as howls and moans echoed from the crowd.
Dontae’ sat beside a large oak tree on the hill above the cemetery. He thought about how the last time he saw Sandy, she was in his arms dying. He thought about how they took her life and took the chance for him to say his last goodbyes. His eyes welled up with tears as he watches the casket enter the ground. He could see Mrs. Stanton, and oh how he felt her heartbreak. He knew that she didn’t buy the story that he killed her. In his heart, he knew. The first time he had met her and Mr. Garry, a name Dontae’ always made fun of, because he didn’t understand why she called him that, he and Sandy had only been dating for about three months. Mrs. Stanton grilled him about how he better not bring her daughter home pregnant. He thought it was funny. Mr. Gary then pulled him aside and said, “This a good family. They have strong values, and you got yourself a winner with that girl.” He knew she was special. Everyone knew it. Now they all mourned her on one of the most beautiful days Hill Creek Cemetery had seen in a long time.
Ω
Roland Walsh walks out of his fifteen thousand square feet mansion and into the back of a black Lincoln town car where he tells the driver, “To the office,” and they begin to move. He takes his phone from his inside jacket pocket and proceeds to dial.
“Hi. I heard about the announcement. It couldn’t have come at a better time.”
He pauses to listen to the other end.
“I’m going to head in for a bit. Just make sure the analytics are on my desk by tonight.” He hangs up.
The car pulls directly in front of Quest Inc., and Roland steps out, buttoning his jacket. His brash arrogance is tenfold as he styles in his designer sunglasses. A flickering light over his left shoulder catches his attention. He takes a quick look but is suddenly distracted by screeching tires. He turns quickly only to see a white van speeding off into the distance. You can’t be too careful when you are filthy rich.
Calvin Talbert speeds down a country road in a white van leaving plums of dust and leaves in his trail as he races for the on-ramp to downtown Atlanta only to run directly into bumper-to-bumper traffic. “God Damn it!” he shouts. Calvin knows this city, but he couldn’t beat the traffic as he planned in this instance. He waits impatiently before finally taking an exit to the side streets. The Santa-Claus-white-haired old man who dawned what looked like the oldest pair of glasses in existence, twists and turns on side streets like a crazed Nascar driver franticly trying to reach his destination. He swears at a few other vehicles before finally turning on a side road coming to a stop directly in front of Quest Inc. He spots a man to the right in baggy sweats and a hoodie about to cross the street, heading towards the building. He then looks to the left to see Roland Walsh stepping out of a black Lincoln town car.
Dontae waits at the corner of an ally across the street from the Quest Inc. building with a direct line of sight to the front door. His face, looking as if he hasn’t slept for days, is filled with sadness and rage. He is startled by a door opening just in front of him. He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes it’s only a dishwasher coming out of the back door of one of the many restaurants that lined the street. The man looks at him with an eye of suspicion. Dontae’ notices that the man sees his gun sticking out of the left pocket of his hoodie. He quickly stuffs it deeper, breaking eye contact with the guy. The man, appearing not to want any trouble, finishes emptying the large dishpan and scurries back into the door. Detective Dontae’ would have shrugged it off, but he was now a fugitive. He had given his life to protecting and serving, and now he was on the run from the very people that swore brotherhood. And in his mind, it was all thanks to Walsh, who was going to show up at this god damned building sooner or later. Until then, fugitive Dontae’ was going to wait. A few moments pass with no real action until Dontae’ spots a black Lincoln town car approaching. This is it. That’s got to be him—Dontae’ steps from the alley and towards the car. A glimmer of light catches his attention as he is about to cross the street. It’s the same digital billboard that he noticed when he arrived to investigate Rochelle’s suicide. This time the billboard was displaying what appeared to be a commercial for a talk show.
&
nbsp; A woman’s voice over spoke.
"Give," the new viral video challenge taking the internet by storm, was just released an hour ago and has already gained over 7 million views. Later today, on “Talk it now,” we talk with Rochelle about Friday's concert, which will be her first live performance since the suicide hoax. Stay tuned to “The NC,” the only network for real talk.”
The wind is sucked out of Dontae’s lungs, and confusion stirs deep when he sees the catalyst that ruined his life. As bright as day with a big ass Kool-Aid smile, Rochelle is alive and well and on the screen. This entire situation was because of her. This bitch was alive, and the love of his life was dead. And it was all because of her and this fucking fake death stunt! His anger was now on full tilt, and it couldn’t be a worse time for Roland to step from the black Lincoln town car. Dontae’ sees him. His teeth clenched his bottom lip so tightly that it broke the skin, drawing a drop of blood. He took in a huge and deep breath, stuck his hand in the pocket, and placed it firmly on the pistol. This was it. The moment he was waiting for. This motherfucker was about to feel the pain that Sandy felt. He knew that this was going to be the end of his life also, but what the fuck did he have to live for? He takes the gun from his pocket and points it towards Roland, who is oblivious of the situation.
Suddenly a van pulls in front of Dontae' almost hitting him. The passenger door swings open to reveal an old white-haired man. Calvin Talbert waves to Dontae’.
“Get in. I can help you,” the man offered.
Who is this man who is so familiar but such a stranger? Dontae’ can’t quite place him, but he knows he has seen this man before.
“Come on, Dontae’, this is not the answer.” The man shouts.
Dontae’ thinks for a second. He can always get to Roland. What if this strange man knows something he doesn’t? This scene, this place, this moment, it can all be replicated. If he goes through with his plan and manages to kill Roland, he will never know what this man had to offer. He put the gun back into his pocket and got into the van. The man hit the gas, the tire screeched, and they were off into the distance.
