“I don’t know what she took it was mixed in with her water.” Bill said in a calm voice.
“From what we can tell, it was a powerful sedative, the baby and your wife are okay. We’d like to keep her overnight and if all goes well, she can go home first thing in the morning.”
Bill nodded his head, “What kind of security do you people have here?”
“Bill this is a hospital, if she were the President, the security would be tripping over themselves. But this is Amarillo Texas, not fucking Washington DC.”
Bill shook his head in disgust, “She is to be treated just as if she were the President. You get some goddamn security and you do it now. If you’re a praying man. . . you’d best pray nothing happens to her.” Bill replied in a hard tone.
“That sounds very much like a threat detective.” a nurse said in a smug voice.
“Lady I’d never make threats, that’s a clear warning.”
“Bill what’s wrong here.” a familiar voice from behind him asked.
Bill turned around and looked into the face of the large Black reverend. “Randy. God, am I glad to see you. That bunch got into my house and doped Carol’s water. It was a warning otherwise she’d be dead. I need some security here to watch over her.”
“Give me just five minutes partner, and I’ll have somebody here. I’ll stand guard over her until they arrive.”
“Detective. Don’t you think that you should be the one to watch over her?” the nurse asked. “This man is not qualified to be anybody’s bodyguard.”
“I trust him and he stays.”
“What the nurse is trying to say is: that he isn’t welcome in this hospital.” a doctor replied. His contempt and hatred, coming through loud and clear for the Black man.
Bill smiled and it looked like a wolf baring his teeth. “Doc, whatever problem you people have with Randy, you need to get over it. He’s going to watch over my wife, and if any of you give him any shit, I’ll know, then I’ll bust your ass for obstruction.”
Neither the doctor or the nurse had anything to say to that.They didn’t like it, they didn’t like the Black reverend, but they were far more scared of Bill Wilson.
Randy smiled as the familiar voice of his friend came on the telephone. “Dobs got a situation here at the hospital, an old friend of mine has his wife here. That certain group of people got into his house, doped his pregnant wife’s drinking water. No, she’s going to be okay, he needs somebody to guard her. Well, me for now. Detective Bill Wilson. No. He isn’t like any normal cop. Trust me partner I know for a fact...thanks, it’ll not be forgotten.”
Boris Stokes poured himself a drink, (His fourth straight shot of 100 proof hooch) he was not taking the pressure of Borga and his goons very well. Over the past few days he’d beaten three perps, and busted up two known hippie’s drug houses. He was now enjoying a nice fat suspension.
Brenda slowly stepped out onto the porch, lately she didn’t know what was going to set him off. Her face was still bruised from the backhand he’d given her two days ago. “Boris supper is ready.” She cringed suspecting what his response was going to be. He didn’t let her down.
“Feed it to the fucking dog, only a goddamn animal can digest that slop.”
She kept her temper in check, and went back into the house. Next time he puts a hand to me...she flinched as the screen door slammed shut. A second later Brandon began to cry.
“Shut the hell up you little bastard.” Boris shouted angrily. “Shut up, or I’ll give you a reason to cry.”
She felt a blind hot rage race through her body. She ran to the bedroom and picked up his pistol, and quickly went to Brandon’s room. “Mommy’s here honey.”
“You shut that little bastard up, or I will.” Boris, slurred.
“I think you need to leave Boris.” Brenda said in a dark and low voice. “I’m sick of your drinking and your abusive ways.”
“Ahh-baby. I don’t hit you as often as you deserve to be hit. But maybe you need a reminder, as to who is to be feared in this house.”
Brenda Stokes smiled, as she gently touched her son’s face. “Are your balls really that small? It takes a very small man, to beat on a woman or a child.”
She glanced up and saw Boris’s, reflection in the window, his expression would have been worth a photo. In an instant he was rushing across the room in a blind rage.
She turned and cocked the hammer back to the pistol. “Come on big man keep coming.” Brenda taunted.
Boris froze in his tracks, he’d never seen that look in his Brenda’s face. “Baby, this isn’t you. Give me the gun and I’ll forget all about you pointing it at me.”
“Boris you fucked up when you backed me into a corner. You ever touch me again or you hurt my baby. . . I’ll Fuckin’ A kill You.”
Boris couldn’t believe the words he’d just heard. He slowly backed away and as soon as he got into the hallway, he turned and left his family. A usual act when he wanted sympathy. He went to the nearest bar and finished what he’d began at home.
He was just a college student, and thought that he’d relax a bit by having a few beers. His only crime would be that he was from Germany.
Boris glared when he heard the accent, and finished his drink. “Hey-boy! What are you doing in my country? You go and tell Borga, that Texans don’t run from pieces of shit like him.”
“Sir I don’t know any Borga, why don’t I buy you a drink, and we can talk. You’re obviously upset about something.”
“Talk.” Boris shouted. “You want to fucking talk!”
Several people wisely left the bar, the enraged man was just too fucking big to even try to handle.
The bartender stepped into the back room and called the police. He grabbed up his ball bat and boldly walked up to the large man. “Boris you need to leave. You can’t just come in here and threaten people.”
“This ain’t none of your damn business Slim.”
“The hell it isn’t, this is my bar, I own it. On the streets you’re the law but in here you can consider me as God. And the first commandment here is: Don’t Fuck With Slim.”
Boris smiled arrogantly.
The young student stayed and watched the slender bartender. Logic screamed for him to get the hell out of there, to run and never look back. But his heart told him to stay. If the bartender wouldn’t press charges, maybe he could help this extremely large and very troubled man.
What kind of psychiatrist would he be, if he just turned his back on this man? What kind of man would he be? No better than those that beat or abuse the mentally ill.
“You don’t need to worry Boris. . . may I call you Boris?”
“I’d rather you didn’t, you some kind of a moron? You could have left without any serious injury.” Boris, said with a vicious smile.
“Boris don’t force my hand.” Slim cautioned. “I’ll bust you up if you make a move on him.”
“I’m a doctor, well I will be a doctor there’s no need for violence here.”
“Look Doc I know you’re trying to help, but you don’t know shit about the real world. Whatever you’ve been taught may work in theory, but this man will kill
you.” Slim said in a cold tone.
The young man had to admit, that it was the coldest smile he’d ever seen.
Several officers entered the bar, and slowly approached Boris Stokes. “Boris are you having an off day? Slim could you get me and my friend a beer please.”
Slim slowly nodded his head.
“Sir you need to leave. We’ve got this matter under control.” the officer said to the young man.
“I’d kinda like to stay.”
“Get The Fuck Outta Here!” Boris shouted. “Jesus H Christ! I’m not gonna feel charitable all goddamn night!”
The young man didn’t have to be told again, he ran out of the bar leaving his briefcase behind.
Boris smiled and shook his head. “Not too bright is he?”
“Studying to be a shrink.”
“Should have told me sooner, I know it as sure as I’m standing here: One day those people are going to put the blame of why assholes break the law at the feet of Mommy and Daddy. Mommy didn’t hold him enough, or she didn’t breast feed him. Daddy whipped him too much, or didn’t play catch with him enough. Horseshit!”
Each officer knew the truth. A truth that would one day be swept under the rug. A lowlife is the way he is, because that is exactly what he wants to be.
They’d busted young people for theft, only to find out that they came from middle class homes. They felt for some of the kids, Kids that felt that they were forced into a fight. Kids that didn’t have nicer clothes, but they still had pride. Kids that felt they were forced to defend their parents.
Several years ago there was a boy that was a repeat offender.
His father was part of the Brotherhood, but wasn’t exactly likeable. He had a real problem with kids, and controlling his anger in general. They knew he was dirty but didn’t know just how deep the dirt went.
The boy’s only crime was fighting. He’d defend his father, and almost never lost a fight. One on one, sometimes two to three on one. He was never arrested, out of professional courtesy they’d calm him down then send him home.
They pulled over one evening to talk to the boy and found that he had been beaten...severely beaten.
“I guess Dad didn’t like the fact that I walked away, instead of beating the shit out of that kid.”
That was all it took, they took the kid to the hospital, and sent other officers to the boy’s home. They arrested the father and took great pleasure in escorting him to the car in handcuffs.
A neighbor came out and glared her hate at the large man. “You taking him in for what he does to his son?”
“He beats him with whatever he can get his hands on, it don’t matter what it is. The boy tries not to cry out, but sometimes the pain is too much. The boy will sometimes fight back, and end the fight. Somebody needs to take that boy in and teach him to love.”
“Yes ma’am somebody does, it’ll be up to the state now though.”
That had been eight years ago, Matt Black had become a very fine young man. A man by the name of Darry Frank had fought and won custody of the boy.
The boy had already been sent over seas to fight in that bullshit little police action as they called it. The Officer shook away the old memories. Boris was under a lot of pressure, and even though he knew that didn’t make it right, he felt that Boris would never really harm his wife and kid.
“Boris lets get you to the Safe House, so you can sleep this off. Maybe by tomorrow night Brenda, will be calm enough to talk this out.”
“I scared her really bad this time–she actually pulled a gun on me.”
Suddenly all went silent.
“I believe that she would have used it too. I was out of control, and she thought that I was going to hurt the baby...hell I was going to hurt him. His crying got to me, he’s been sick the past few days. I guess his tummy-ache came back.”
The officer helped steady the large man as they walked toward the door.
Boris Stokes should not be a cop, the man was dangerous. For Brenda to be forced to pull a gun, something was very wrong. She just wasn’t the type to pull a gun. Brenda was a very sweet and gentle lady. Somebody was gonna have to do something. Maybe they’d talk to the captain, and get Boris put behind a desk.
Yes. Something was going to have to be done to stop Boris Stokes. Goddamn sadistic bastard.
As if I didn’t have enough to worry with, now I had agreed to send some men to Amarillo to be bodyguards to some cop’s wife. If Randy says the cop was a straight shooter then the cop was clean.
Somehow I just knew that all this was leading to something very big. Maybe not tomorrow, next week, or even next month, but somewhere along the lines all hell was going to break loose.
To think all I wanted, was to live a decent life. To have a good woman, and to have children that any man would be proud of. To try and give them all, the better things in life.
I never wanted to be rich, or to have false respect from any man. Shit. Life never goes the way you want it. If it did then Susan would be in HOLLYWOOD, Peggy would be a centerfold model, and Darren would now be called The Queen of Independence Day. (He may still have a shot at that) I’d be sitting at home drinking a beer, waiting for June to rub my sore aching muscles.
No. Nothing ever goes the way we want it to. The way things stand now, I’m not even going to be there, to see my son come into this world.
June had told me that yes, it was a boy, and that he’d be strong, brave and intelligent just like his father. “On your lonely days, you ain’t been seeing the mailman have you?” I asked with a grin.
“No way! That man’s as ugly as they come, now the pool cleaner is...” She then made a growling sound as she patted her chest.
“Baby there are no pools in our neighborhood.”
“Is too.” she said with a pouty look.
To me that had always made her look more sexy.
“He’s out there working right now, working next door to the Henderson’s.”
“Baby that’s a side street.”
“Go Look!” she challenged.
I stepped outside and walked to the corner, and saw a very large man with a beer belly standing knee deep in a hole filled with water. His pant’s had worked down just enough to give show sizeable butt crack.
I went back to the house, and June was standing in the hall laughing. “Ain’t he hot?” she asked as she fluttered her eyes.
The echo of her laughter faded, and she vanished right before my eyes.
Yeah-if things went the way I wanted, my wife would be here. Not God knows where, because she needed protection from this group of assholes. Protection that she needed because of me. If I hadn’t let them get to me-if only I had kept my temper in check.
And if my aunt had wheels she’d be a wagon.
There is a preset destiny, for each man, woman, and child. I’ve seen people stabbed and shot, that survived. I’ve seen men fall ten feet and die, I once saw a little boy hit by a car. He was knocked five feet in the air and ten feet back. He landed on his feet, staggered back two feet and fell on his butt.
At the time I’d thought this kid is dead, he just don’t know it. He got to his feet, rubbing his chest. Not one tear, it had to have hurt, even the fear should have brought tears. He surprised us all.
“Shit! My old man hits harder than that, and he’s far more scary when he gets pissed.” he’d told the growing crowd.
Today that kid is a grown man, and is one of the best cops I’ve ever met. He’s been shot something like four times, and has been stabbed twice. I just wish that the brother of his guardian angel would peek in on June from time to time. Father Frank had once told me: “When it’s your time, it’s your time, you can’t hide from death.”
Shit! Why was I thinking like that? I had promised June, that this bunch was not even in my league. That we’d win this battle and I’d hold her in my arms again. The thought kept nagging at me though: I was going to loose. Oh I’d take some with me, but in the end I was going to loose.
What was I thinking, when I started this crap shoot? What? That we’d actually make some kind of a difference-that we’d show these assholes that we weren’t going to take anymore of their shit.
I asked my friends to put their lives on the line. . . to risk their lives to end this. I know they’re all grown men and women, and made their own choices. But did I have that right?
A kid of one of the new people walked up to me as I sat there thinking. “Is it okay if I talk with you sir?”
“Sure,” I said with a grin. “have a seat.”
“Everybody says to leave you alone, when you’re off thinking like this. That you have a lot on your mind.”
I was trying to remember the boy’s name. The group had grown, and I hadn’t met everybody just yet. But I was certain I’d been told his name.
“. . . you’re worried that some of the group are going to die.”
“You’re very astute,” I said with a grin. “I was wondering if I had the right to ask any of them to risk their lives.”
“The way I see it: Many of them would have joined whether you’d asked them to or not. Some would have still waited for the invite. They all have one thing in common sir, they must all love their freedom. I don’t think they’d be here if they didn’t.
“I remember learning about the men of the Alamo: Men from all over came to fight for Texas freedom. Men who didn’t have anything to gain, but everything to loose in the end. They heard the call, and came to fight. They fought because they believed in freedom, they fought because they were men of honor.”
“But from the start, this was my fight. . .”
The boy shook his head, “You only think it was your fight, it was the fight of everybody you see here. You’re thinking with your heart, and I think that makes you a good leader. You won’t send your people in needlessly, you want to win
with a minimum loss of our people. You’ll be cautious, that’s what will help us to win this. But you’re never too cautious.
“You’ll not sit on your hands, because you don’t want to be responsible for deaths. You’ll do what is right, and our people will follow you to the very end.”
Jeff Bragon. The boy’s name is Jeff Bragon.
“You really are a bright kid.”
“You just needed somebody outside the forest to show you the trees.”
“Yeah I guess I did at that Jeff.”
The boy gave a boyish grin.
That didn’t help matters, he should be off playing ball, or getting into some kind of mischief that boys his age get in to. But his talk did help.
I watched as the boy ran off, it just wasn’t right. That boy shouldn’t be here, none of these children should. But where else could they have gone?
Many had become orphaned, because of this. Their parents had refused to bend, and had been killed. Jeff was a unique child, he was very bright. But he also knew when to fight, and when to walk away.
The men that had killed his parents were going to rape his sister. He found his father’s pistol, and slipped through the house as silently as possible. He’d paused long enough to turn on the gas in each room.
He quickly stepped into the bedroom, and gut shot one man, and shot a second just above the knee. “You let my Sister go, or I’m gonna fucking kill you all!”
“Boy you had best give me that pistol, or I swear I’ll make her scream.” one man said in a cold tone.
“She should have done that the moment she saw your ugly face.” Jeff, said as he cocked the hammer back. “Sis get your clothes on and get over here by me.”
The men stood back looking at the boy holding the pistol in his hand. There was something about this boy, the cold look in his eyes told them that he would definitely pull the trigger on them.
Simone quickly pulled her top over her head and rushed to her brother. “Let’s go Jeffy.”
The boy stood silently looking into the eyes of each man. He wanted to remember the look each man had. Evil. Pure fucking evil.
The boy backed away and grabbed his sister’s hand, as they ran to the back door. “What’s that smell...” Simone asked.
“Shut The Fuck Up, and Run!” Jeff ordered.
The brother and sister ran out the back door. Jeff turned and fired into the kitchen window. The house erupted into a massive ball of flames. The brother and sister were knocked off their feet,
Jeff quickly rolled to rest on one knee. “Sorry ass Bastards!” he muttered bitterly. “That one was for you Mom and Dad.”
Simone looked at her little brother as though for the first time. “Jeffy you okay?” she asked nervously.
“Yeah I’m okay...none of them...you know?”
“No. They never got the chance, what are we going to do now?”
“I parked the truck down the street, we’re heading out to join up with Dobs Macalister. We’ll be safe there.”
Kid had a lot of guts. Dobs thought. His parents had been taken from him. He was very pissed, and he’d been able to save his sister...a ten year old boy took out four grown men.
There were probably other horror stories from other children. Maybe they didn’t have time to think like Jeff had done. Maybe they didn’t have the instinct. Why did some have it and others not?
The large man watched as the leader of their group sat and chain-smoke cigarettes. He’d been fighting little wars like this for most of his life. He was of Cajun and Italian descent. His mother’s blood being the dominant. He was a fighter for justice.
His name was Louis Reapher and he’d been a hell-raiser for most of his life. Never giving in, and certainly never allowing himself, to be considered just one of the crowd. He was tough minded but fair in dealing with people: Keep your hands and your petty thoughts to yourself. You’ll find that you live longer and healthier. Fuck with the wrong person and you can get your ass handed to you.
He’d heard of the growing rebellion and Louie didn’t wait for a personal invite. He showed up with close to a hundred Black men, women and children.
He’d seen how the White people were treating the Black people, and it didn’t just enraged him, it down right pissed him off.
The first time he saw a redneck attempting to assault an elderly black lady, his Cajun temper hit full steam. Her crime? She’d not stepped off into a puddle of mud to allow him to pass.
He told the police straight out: “Any man that puts his hands on a woman deserves to be horsewhipped, and any man that closes his eyes to trash like that shithead deserves the same treatment.”
The officers were very understanding and caring to Louie’s feelings. They showed their concern for his rights, the entire time he was being booked.
Louie spoke in rapid Cajun French, as they closed the cell door. “What did you say?” an officer asked.
“I said you and the justice system can kiss my ass.” Louis replied with a smile. “That was sugarcoated so as not to offend your young idealistic views shithead.”
The officer was trembling with rage as he unlocked the cell door. “Now I’m going to make you scream, you Cajun fucker.”
Louie pretended to look scared, “Oh my-my, the officer is gonna shoot liquid law goo up my ass.”
“I didn’t think they allowed your kind to wear a badge.”
“What do you mean my kind!” the cop demanded.
Louie smiled and fluttered his eyes. “You know what I mean sweet-stuff.”
The cell door was opened and the cop pulled his nightstick and attacked.
Louie huddled into a corner, and covered his face and head as best he could. Many of the prisoners began to yell, for anyone to come and help.
Several officers rushed into the area, and found the young officer beating the unarmed man. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do whatever it was I did. Just don’t let him hurt me anymore.”
“He. . . he tried to say that I was a goddamn queer!” the officer said in a shaky voice.
“He went after him after the cell door had been shut.” a prisoner called out. “He let mere words get to him, he never was in any danger.”
“Get this man cleaned up.” the sergeant shouted to another officer. “Goddamnit Jenkins! I’m tired of cleaning up your fuck ups. This time I’m going to feed your ass to the Captain.”
Louie smiled at the officer and fluttered his eyes.
“Sergeant this man is scamming you. He ain’t hurt...”
“Did he also fake the beating you were caught giving him?”
“No. . . he pushed me into it.”
“I don’t think that will stand up in court, you better pray that you have a good lawyer.”
“May I make an offer?” Louie asked.
“What kind of offer.”
“Drop the charges against me, and I won’t press charges against him. From what I understand, the police don’t need this kind of heat on them, at this particular point and time.”
“You assaulted a man.”
“In a fit of anger for his actions against a near blind and deaf elderly Black woman. I. . . only used my hands and feet. The officer here used a club.”
The young officer rushed up to the hard-nosed officer “Sergeant. The captain says to let Mister Reapher go, all charges have been dropped.” the young man said in a hushed whisper.
“Did he say why?”
The young officer nodded his head. “Yes sir. He said Lewis is redneck bigot, and that someday, somebody is going to do far worse, than just kick his ass.”
“Did he say anything else?” the sergeant asked drily.
“He wants to see you, and the sack of shit that assaulted Mr. Reapher. His words sir.” the young officer replied with a smile. He was enjoying this. “He told me after wards, that no officer in this department was going to act in such a manner.”
“You little weasel.” the officer growled.
“Careful. You don’t want a third, assault charge filed against you.” the young officer taunted, nothing was being done, but...
“A third?” the sergeant asked nervously.
“He tried to rape a young woman two nights ago, he would have done it had I
not pulled my pistol, and threatened to shoot him.”
The prisoners all fell silent, their crimes ranged from criminal trespass, to drunk and disorderly. Okay. So they’d broken the law, but they’d never done an act of violence.
“Is this true?” the Sergeant demanded, forgetting exactly where they were.
“She was some hooker and the talk got a little out of hand.”
“Bullshit! Sergeant, she was a teenager, just barely sixteen. I pulled over because I recognized the car. She’s a good kid as well as a good friend of my brother Jimmy. She told me what he’d asked of her. Wanted her to suck him off.
“Jimmy made me promise to take care of this, since I was there and saw it, I’d already followed SOP that night. Yeah, I went over your head and straight to the Captain. I didn’t want another so-called misunderstanding to be swept under the rug.”
“You mentioned me in the other matters?”
“I sure as hell did. I have a good feeling that life as you know it is going to come to an end.” the Officer said with a smile.
“Fucking Weasel!” the sergeant muttered.
The young officer smiled as the two men left the area. “You did that on purpose, said all that in front of the prisoners.” Louis said with a faint smile.
“By the end of the day, they’ll be civilians. Whatever happens then is their own damn problem.”
“You got a streak of meanness in you as cold as ice.”
The young officer lead the larger man, down the hall out of hearing distance of the other prisoners. “That one officer is quite large, aren’t you worried that he may come after you?”
“If he does he’ll pay the price.”
“I’d kill him as surely as I would a rabid dog, thing is I’d feel sorry for the dog.”
Many people really were changing and depending on one’s perspective the change was for the better. In some ways the people really were trying to bridge the gap between the races. Now if only someone can get the wrong types on all sides to shut the hell up.
Randy knew that he was losing sight of who he was and why he’d been sent in. He knew that this group was basically harmless. They wanted their neighborhood to be as close to crime free as possible. He’d been with the Company for a very short time, and maybe he still had a lot to learn. But he was a good judge of character. He’d known many of these people his whole life. They were all good men and women.
If anybody should be arrested, it’s those that wore badges in this little shithole town. He knew for a certain fact who was dirty and who was going to fall. Many of which were his own people. The Company had been compromised.