for me.”
“Then maybe I’m going to have to eradicate you from the face of the earth.”
“The police will be looking for my car.”
“Oh, I’ve got another plan. Now get out of the car…slowly. Place both hands in front of you, and put the keys in your right hand and hold them out so I can get them.”
Raphael got out of the car as instructed and quickly surveyed his surroundings. The block ended several houses down. There was a Laundromat on the opposite corner and he couldn’t see much else. He held the keys in his right hand and waited for Victor to take them from him.
With gun in his right hand, Victor walked up to where Raphael stood.
“Drop the keys in my hand,” Victor demanded.
Raphael hesitated but saw the gun pointing at him. He held on a second longer, but Victor moved closer and snatched them out of his hand.
Pow. Raphael saw the moment to change the course of his fate. He knocked the gun out of Victor’s hand, kicked him in the groin, and pushed him to the ground. Raphael took off running, but knew he had to get farther than the Laundromat. Too many people’s lives would be at risk, so he kept running.
Raphael believed he heard footsteps following him and he ran faster still. There was a moment of silence, but still he ran on. He dodged between houses, trying to find a safe haven from the devil. Catching his breath, he peeked from behind the safety of the house and crept to the front to see if the coast was clear.
“Whatcha doing sneaking behind my house?” said the husky voice that belonged to a dark-skinned, heavy set, middle-aged woman who held a piece of plywood in the air. Pink foam hair rollers covered her head, and she wore a pink and orange house-dress that came to her knees that was zipped down far enough to see her ample helping of breasts. And on her feet were a pair of white, off-brand tennis shoes, no socks, with the shoelaces untied. “I’ll take this board and smash your face in.”
Eyes bulging, Raphael jumped and held his hands up. His voice was stuck somewhere in his throat. “Uhh, uhh, Miss…uhh…”
“I said whatcha doing here?”
“Miss…”
“Shirley, my name is Shirley.”
Raphael put his finger to his lips. “Shhhh.”
“Don’t shush me. You’re the one that don’t belong here.”
“Shirley, I’m not here to do you any harm,” Raphael whispered. Then he pointed toward the house. “Can we go in there for a minute?”
“Fool, is you crazy? Don’t you see this board I’m fixin’ to drop across your head?”
“I’m in trouble…not with the law,” Raphael continued whispering. “Please, I need your help.”
Shirley sized him up. “It’s going to cost you. And don’t try nothing.”
Raphael fumbled in his pants for his wallet. He pulled out two twenties and gave them to Shirley.
“I guess so, but I’m going to keep this board aimed at your face.”
Raphael followed Shirley into her small kitchen. Fried chicken, rice and gravy were on the stove. Three small children, two girls and one boy, whose ages ranged from three to ten sat at a small round table in the small kitchen. The children were dressed in dingy white underclothes with pigtails flying at half mast on the two girls, and the boy’s hair was wild about his head as if Shirley had just taken his cornrows down. Rice and gravy were half in their plates and half on the table, as the children nibbled and played in their food.
“Want some dinner…I didn’t get your name?”
“Raf. No.”
“Raf? What kind of name is that?” Shirley asked, putting down the plywood. “Look, mister, I don’t care what your name is, but you need to do what you’ve got to do and be gone before my boyfriend gets home. He’s at work now.”
“I need to make a phone call, Shirley, and I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon after that.”
Tired of the talk, Raphael walked to the front of the house—Shirley following right behind him. The living room was the color of egg yolk after it had been hardboiled and it was smaller than his office at work. There was a brown Kankelon couch with a patchwork quilt thrown over it to hide the springs that pushed from it, and a matching chair sat off to the side. Metal TV trays covered in brown and orange fall leaves on an eggshell-colored background served as coffee and end tables. Children’s toys were littered throughout the