He looked at me.
The first officer had took Brandon with him while we waited inside the Jeep. Traffic stops was nothing to joke about. We would often hear about young black men getting pulled over by the police—only to be found lynched away somewhere.
A knock startled us.
"let me see some ID," he peered inside.
"Well, sir, I-I don't have one," I replied cautiously.
With a sidelong look beside me, Rhonda applied her makeup without a care in the world. Literally.
"That God awful pot!" he turned, and spat aggressively.
"Get out," he pointed at me. Without warning, he hurled me against the car and began to pat me down.
"Hey! you don't get to push her like that, you ain't her daddy!" Rhonda yelled inside.
"Negro, if you know what's good for you, I'd shut up in there," he glared down at her.
"You wouldn't be hidin' it on you, wouldn't you?" his comment was directed to my chest.
Which I instinctively covered.
There's no way I could have hid anything on me. All I wore was a two piece short set that day.
"No," I distanced away from him.
"Hey! Leave her alone!" Rhonda called out again. This time she threw her purse at the door.
"Shut up!" the officer barked.
"No! Where's my friend! where did y'all take him!" she tried to pull the door.
"Rhonda! you'll make things worse," I hissed.
The officer then smashed the back window and dragged Rhonda from the Jeep by her hair.
"Come here! I got something for you nigger,"
"let me go!" she thrashed, and knocked the officer back.
"You know what smart mouthed niggers like you get!" he gripped her hair from behind and began to pull his belt. Walking away from the Jeep.
"You don't have to do this!" I Started towards them.
"Nigger, you come any farther and I'd blow your brains out," he raised his gun and fired in the air.
"Chief! radio dispatch! Twentieth street to the north!" his colleague called from behind, closing in closer. Brandon walked alongside of him.
"Twentieth street is blocked, you can't pass. You kids go home," he warned.
His radio went off in signal.
"Quit antagonizing the girl! Darn it! Let's go!"
"Officer, do something, will ya, he's groping her for Christ sake," Brandon turned away.
With shaking hands, I covered my mouth in horror as Rhonda tried to pry off the officer's groping hands. She thrashed and screamed.
"My daddy will have ya head for this! You hear me!"
"Momaaa!" she wailed. Followed by hard sobs.
The first officer then ran to pull Rhonda away.
"George, if you want that job in the morn, I suggest you move away!"
"A niggerlover too, huh? When since!" the chief stood behind Rhonda and pulled his gun at the officer.
"This guy's a maniac," Brandon blew out a Breath behind me.
To just Stand there and watch? Wrong. I ran into the street and waved at passing cars.
The Vehicles swerved to avoid the ongoing cars.
To God I prayed that someone would stop and intervene in some way.
Not just anybody. My people.
"Get out of the way!"
A carton of milk flew out of a window and fell at my feet. It's contents splashed all over me.
"And you're wasting milk!" I yelled back.
This one car slowed down a minute after, It just happened to be Henry Warton. A known protester in Overtown. Henry would always rescue the folks from trouble-making officers—like George's colleague.
Warton always wore that stern look on his face. And he was of good height, but anybody looked taller to me because I was short.
"What's wrong, young one?" he closed his car door and glanced at the police cruiser.
His stern look now expressed Dr. king's whole point of what was been fought for.
"We got pulled over for no reason!" I told him on the verge of tears.
"Unhand my niece!" he shouted as he jogged over on the gravel.
Like a cub rescued by its mother from its prey. So I followed Henry.
The police pulled us over was truth, I didn't tell him that they'd been smoking pot. Just maybe if they weren't smoking, then the cops would leave us that day? Right? No trouble.
"What's happening here!" Henry bellowed at George.
"Sir, calm down, everything's under control," George placed a hand on Henry's shoulders.
"Is it?" Henry asked.
The chief ended up letting Rhonda go after Henry threatened to report his badge number and have him disgraced for touching a teenager.
"Say hi to your father for me," the chief walked passed the Jeep as we settled inside.
Rhonda spat at him.
He kissed at her and smiled.
Rhonda caught Brandon's nervous glances through the rearview as we drove back home.
"I'm fine, brandy,"
"You know what they say, you win some, you lose some," Rhonda spoke behind a forced smile.
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