by Alana Terry
What would her dad tell her to do? There wasn’t time for him to get in touch with the trooper he knew. She had to make her decision now.
“I guess that’s not the entire story,” she admitted. The peace, the strength she’d experienced while Dominic prayed vanished like a flame flaring up on a glass cell spreader drenched in ethanol. The welcomed sense of security that had burned so hot just seconds ago disappeared, leaving behind nothing but cold uncertainty.
Was it the right choice? She didn’t know. But it was too late to change her mind.
Kennedy told the officer everything.
CHAPTER 5
DOMINIC’S PRAYER HAD disarmed her. Put her in a vulnerable position until she divulged the whole story. She still wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, but at least she got through her recitation calmly. No more choking heaves or suffocating sobs.
When she finished, she searched his face for any telltale signs of anger or disbelief. Had she done it? Had she broken the unwritten code of police procedures and exposed a bad cop?
Would he say the whole thing was her fault, that she or Reuben instigated the confrontation? Would he even believe her?
Dominic was tugging at his short beard hairs. “And you say when the fight was all said and done, the cop who attacked you was gone? Just like that?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was weak. What time was it? Exhaustion clung to her individual muscle fibers.
“He didn’t stay and write you a ticket? Didn’t arrest you for assault? Nothing?”
She stared at her empty bottle of water and shook her head, realizing how ridiculous the whole thing sounded now that she’d heard it herself. She sat and waited. Waited for him to tell her how stupid she’d been to antagonize an officer. For Dominic to poke a dozen more holes into her story until even she doubted its veracity.
“There’s no way an officer would just drive away from a situation like that. Not unless he knew he was guilty and hoped to pretend it never happened.”
Kennedy was too busy imagining the conversation she’d have with her dad from a jail cell to piece together the meaning of Dominic’s words.
“If he had just cause, he would have written you up. Hauled you both in. That would be the end of it.”
For the slightest moment, a spark of hope flickered in Kennedy’s core. Was he saying he believed her?
“But instead, he ran away.” Dominic was musing now, apparently speaking more to himself than Kennedy. “Which only goes to show he was the guilty party.” He leaned forward. “And you didn’t get his name?”
“No.”
“Didn’t see his badge or anything?”
“No.”
Frankly, she had been too busy trying to keep him from murdering her best friend to worry about minute details like that.
“Can you at least remember what he looked like?”
Kennedy sighed. She could picture his face but didn’t know how to portray it. She did the best she could, certain by Dominic’s expression she wasn’t helping.
“That could be half the police force you just described there.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He sat for a moment in silence before leveling his gaze. “You know this isn’t going to paint a pretty picture when it all comes out in the wash.”
What did he mean? Not a pretty picture for the officer involved? Or not pretty for her and Reuben? Kennedy wasn’t sure. She glanced up at the walls. There were no clocks here, but she guessed it had to be at least nine by now. The musical would probably be finishing up in the next half hour or so.
She had hoped tonight would end so differently.
She had been looking forward to her date with Reuben for nearly the whole semester. Finally, she’d stopped kidding around like a little junior high girl and admitted her true feelings to herself. Reuben meant so much to her. So much.
She let out her breath. “What happens now?”
She wished Dominic would smile. There was something comforting about his face when he did. But his features were set in a scowl as he tugged on his beard. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can at least spell out your options. You can write a report. File a complaint. If you go that route, I’ll show you the ropes. Tell you the right people to meet with. You don’t want to walk into the main department building and talk to the first person you see.” He let out a sigh that seemed to hold the heaviness of several lifetimes in its breath. “I need to warn you, though, it might not go very far. You didn’t get his name. Think you could identify him if you saw him again?”
“Probably.”
“Yeah, well, the chances of the chief ordering a dozen of his men to stand in a line-up isn’t looking all that hot.”
“So there’s nothing we can do?” It was such a relief that they were talking about bringing the unruly officer to justice instead of discussing Kennedy and Reuben’s plea bargain for assaulting a cop. Part of her would be happy to just walk away and pretend none of this ever happened. She realized, though, that’s exactly what Bow Legs was counting on.
So then what? Make herself into an Atticus Finch, stare injustice in the face and jump into some sort of legal battle that was doomed from its inception? And what kind of legal battle would it be if the police department decided to block justice?
Dominic frowned. “I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m just saying you’ll face a lot of obstacles along the way. Cops have this code ...”
Kennedy rolled her eyes. “I know.” She was sick of hearing about it.
“I’m not saying it’s right,” Dominic inserted. “I’m just saying that’s the way it is. Most folks in the department will tell you police brutality doesn’t exist, that anyone who finds himself on the wrong end of a nightstick must have been asking for it.”
His chest expanded visibly as he inhaled. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
She couldn’t fully comprehend what he meant, but she sensed the warning behind his words. “Well, what would happen if we just let it drop?”
Her question must have pulled Dominic out of some sort of daydream. He shot up his gaze. “Let it drop? You mean don’t report it?” He shrugged. “Nothing. Nothing at all would happen. And then next time that same cop pulls over someone he doesn’t like or who looks a little funny to him, well, who knows what would happen then? All because of a little bit of nothing.”
“But you just said we couldn’t make any progress on a case like this.” She felt like Milo in The Phantom Tollbooth, who agreed to move a pile of sand with a pair of tweezers before realizing how many thousands of years it would actually take him.
“No, it might not turn out in your favor,” Dominic replied. “But it’s a start. There’d be documentation. If enough reports come in with similar complaints, eventually the department would have to take a good, honest look at itself. And I’m guessing the chief wouldn’t like what he’d see.”
Kennedy squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her throbbing temples.
“I’m sorry.” Dominic stood. “I’m throwing a lot at you right off the bat. I know you’ve had a hard night.”
Kennedy didn’t bother coming up with a response. All she wanted was to get home.
Dominic held open the door. “Listen, I’m not gonna keep you here any longer. You think about what I said.” He glanced up and down the hall and lowered his voice. “Then when you’ve made up your mind, let me know how you want to proceed. Like I told you, I can get you in touch with the right people. It’s not ...” He took a deep breath before continuing. “The department’s not perfect. We do a lot of good. A lot of good. But you get one bad apple in there and ...” His voice tapered off. “What I’m trying to say is you have a question, you have a problem, you come to me. I’ll help walk you through the steps if you decide to file a grievance, ok?”
Kennedy nodded. For some reason, his kindness toward her made her miss her parents more than normal. Pangs of homesickness pulsed between her firing temples. She swallowed. “Thanks for everythin
g. I really appreciate it.” She was too tired to elaborate, but she hoped he knew she was thanking him for more than just his practical assistance. “I think I’ll go check on Reuben now. Do you know what room he’s in?”
“Just down this hall.” Dominic pointed. “I’ll walk you there.”
“Thanks again.”
His smile was both comforting and warm. “That’s what we’re here for. Follow me. I’ll show you the way to your friend.”
CHAPTER 6
REUBEN’S ROOM WAS NOTHING more than a ten-by-ten square partitioned off with colorfully patterned curtains. A nurse was handing him a piece of paper. Kennedy entered, uncertain how he would react when he saw her there. “Can I come in?” She hated feeling so uneasy. This was Reuben. She’d never been self-conscious around him before.
The nurse glanced up, apparently oblivious to Kennedy’s discomfort. Her face broke into a welcoming grin. “Looks like you have a visitor.”
Reuben gave Kennedy a faint smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
The nurse handed him a pen. “If you don’t have any more questions, I just need you to sign your discharge papers and you’re free to go.”
“Leaving already?” Kennedy asked. “That’s great. I’ll drive you home.” She held her breath, half expecting Reuben to decline her invitation.
Instead, he offered her that same tired smile and nodded. “That sounds great. Thanks so much for coming.”
The anxiety that had clenched its talons into her spine melted away like dross. A few minutes later, they were back in Willow’s car and pulling out of the Providence parking lot.
“How does your head feel?” she asked.
“I’m ok. Just tired.”
They rolled along without talking. Kennedy wondered if she should tell him about her meeting with Dominic. What would he think? What would he say?
“I’m really sorry about what happened. That officer ...”
“Forget about it.” Reuben turned down the radio, which was set to Willow’s favorite classic rock station.
Kennedy drove past looming business complexes and darkened side streets. “It’s too bad about Aida. I really wanted to see it with you.” She stole a quick glance at him. Did he remember how this evening started?
“That’s life for you.” Reuben stared out his window.
Kennedy recognized the song faintly playing on the radio but didn’t know it well enough to make out the words. “Did the doctor say anything? Anything about your injuries?”
“I needed a few stitches. That’s all. It’s hardly worth mentioning.”
Kennedy sensed he was talking about more than just the ER. She let her mind drift off. She had to figure out what to do next. Part of her wanted to file a complaint with the police department. Even if they didn’t catch the cop this time, maybe it would force them to make improvements in the future. Then again, if Reuben refused to talk about what happened tonight when it was just the two of them, how could she expect him to come forward and make the complaint with her? Would they both have to testify against Bow Legs, or could she proceed without forcing Reuben to get involved?
She had no idea what he was going through. No idea what he had felt while pressed down against the hood of that car with his hands cuffed behind his back. No idea how much fear, how much anger must have built up in his system before he finally stood up to the cop. She had spent so many late nights with him, shared so many meals in the student union, so many hours in the chemistry lab. He wasn’t the type to bottle up negative emotions. She’d never seen him lash out. Never heard him yell. Never seen him angry.
Until tonight.
Now, with him so silent beside her, she wondered how well she actually knew him. When they weren’t talking about their studies or arguing over a piece of literature, he would ask all kinds of questions about Kennedy’s life. Listen to her stories about growing up in Yanji. Find out every detail he could about her parents. He knew so much about her past. What did she know about his? He had seven sisters, a whole gaggle of nieces and nephews, and an extended family that could fill an entire floor of a New York hotel. But how useful was that information? She didn’t know what he was afraid of, didn’t know what made him mad, didn’t know what struggles he’d overcome. He grew up in a Christian family, talked about going to church on Christmas Eve with his relatives, but he hardly ever mentioned God. She’d spent the past semester and a half feeling so close to him, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she knew him at all.
Another song came on the radio. Rocket Man by Elton John. It only reminded her how disappointed she was to miss tonight’s musical. Only reminded her how you can be half a foot away from someone you care about, maybe even love, yet still find yourself drowning in an ocean of isolation.
The song invited her to wallow in the homesickness and loneliness that had plagued her since she first arrived at Harvard. A lump lodged itself in the back of her throat, but as comforting as it might be to lose herself in tears, she knew she wouldn’t. Not now. Not here. Not with Reuben’s elbow just a couple inches from hers.
She thought back on her meeting with Dominic, how a perfect stranger had seen and even soothed her tears. And now here she was with Reuben, her best friend, and her eyes were as dry as anhydrous sodium sulfate.
“I’m sorry.” Reuben’s voice was faint. At first, she wasn’t sure if she heard it at all. “With the paramedics. When I yelled at you.”
She turned the song off. “It’s ok.”
“No, I was acting like a jerk. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” she whispered. Did that mean they could talk now? Did that mean their encounter with Bow Legs was no longer taboo?
“I was ...” He sucked in his breath. “I was really scared.”
She nodded, mistrustful of her voice.
“I was afraid he was going to hurt you, and I’d have to stand by and watch.”
She bit her lip, wondering how different things might have turned out if Reuben hadn’t intervened. Maybe nothing would have happened. Nothing at all. The cop could have sent them away with a warning. Or he might have taken them in until Kennedy could prove the stuff in the Ziploc was tea leaves like she claimed. Wasn’t it Aslan in Prince Caspian who said you don’t get to know the what-ifs?
What if they hadn’t been pulled over? What if they’d gone to see Aida like they planned? What if Reuben had told her afterwards the secret he’d been meaning to share?
“They talked to you at the hospital, didn’t they?” Reuben was always soft-spoken, and this time Kennedy had to strain to make out his words.
“Yeah. I didn’t really have much of a choice.”
“Well, I’m just glad it’s over.”
She didn’t want to tell him it might not be over like he expected. Didn’t want to tell him she was considering filing a complaint.
She tested her voice. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” Even with her eyes focused on the road, she sensed his whole body tense.
“What is it?”
She tried to make her words sound natural. Unassuming. “Why didn’t you tell the policeman at the hospital what happened?”
He let out his breath, almost as if he were relieved. “Back home, nothing good ever comes from dealing with the police. They’re all corrupt, and they don’t even try to hide it. So when we got pulled over, I kept reminding myself things were different in America. But they weren’t.”
Kennedy could empathize. If it hadn’t been for Dominic and his prayer, she probably would feel mistrustful of everyone in a blue uniform at this point, too.
“And I haven’t been here long, but I’ve seen enough to know how it would turn out. Everyone who heard about what happened to us would turn it into a race issue. It wouldn’t be about a bad policeman abusing his power. It wouldn’t be about a sexist policeman taking advantage of a college girl. It would be about a white policeman pulling over a black man. That’s all anybody would see.”
Maybe he was righ
t, but Kennedy didn’t understand why that would make him reluctant to bring the officer to justice. “So you think a white cop should be able to harass a black man and get away with it?”
“I don’t think any cop should be able to harass any person and get away with it.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Reuben shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. But I still don’t want you to make a big deal about it. Let’s just forget it.”
Kennedy tried not to show her frustration. “So why else did you refuse to talk to the police?” There had to be more reasons than his counter-intuitive argument.
“I’m not comfortable with it, ok?” He must have sensed he was being more forceful than necessary. “I’m sorry. There are just some things I don’t feel like talking about.”
She furrowed her brows. “I thought we could talk about everything.”
“No.” His voice was weighed down with so much heaviness, so much sadness that Kennedy held her tongue.
“No,” he repeated. “Not everything.”
CHAPTER 7
KENNEDY DROPPED REUBEN off near his side of campus after making plans to meet the next morning for a late breakfast. Her legs were heavy as she trudged from the parking lot to her dorm. She wondered why some people tried to cheer up their friends by reminding them of how much worse things could be. Of course things could be worse. She could be in a holding cell while cops ran tests on her roommate’s bag of loose-leaf tea. She could be standing outside a morgue waiting to identify Reuben’s body. She could be bleeding to death in the back of some deserted alley where the policeman dragged her and raped her. Maybe he didn’t work for the police department at all. Maybe he stole a car and a cop uniform and drove around town looking for prey.
Of course things could be worse. But how was that supposed to make her feel better?
The door to her room was slightly ajar as she made her way down the hall. She swung it open, ready to let her brain drop into the sweet bliss of dreamless sleep. Sinking down on her bed, she kicked off her shoes. Willow was staring at her computer screen, probably playing one of those shooter video games she liked so much. For being a pacifist, she really enjoyed virtual violence. Kennedy wasn’t even sure her roommate noticed her walk in.
