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Over the next few days I was brewing
up a plan to keep John safe. My injury was doing better now, despite
John’s insisting I see a doctor and my refusing. I had faith in my body
to heal on its own. It always did.
It had been three days since I last saw Kayan and his gang, and by now I
had a good idea of what needed to be done. It was going to be tough, but
if I wanted to keep John out of harm’s way I simply had to follow
through with this plan.
It was now the third day and I had a feeling I was being followed as I
paced up the long and wide driveway of the manor that was once occupied
by one of the richest men in Chicago; my father. I had stopped seeing
John for the past two days (this was part of the plan), and instead of
going straight to John’s place after school I went to the manor.
The house was empty and quiet as I stepped inside and threw off my
backpack. My father was in jail and the house was left to me alone. I
had to admit, since I never once called this place home, I was a little
shaken by the fact that it was now mine. Everything in it still reminded
me of him, and therefore, I hated it.
I was just about to jump in the shower when I heard the loud chime of
the doorbell, followed by numerous knocks. My stomach gave a jolt and I
was reminded of Kayan and his guys kicking the crap out of me. Not this
time.
I sped downstairs and opened the door with caution. Sure enough, Kayan
was standing there, although, he was alone this time.
“What did I say, Shuro?” He couldn’t pronounce my name right. “I said I
would find you after three days. My guys are outside your lawyer
friend’s house right now. All it takes is a simple phone call and he’s
dead as a doormat.” Kayan lifted a cellular phone and waved it in my
face as he stepped inside the house and shut the door behind him.
“So, are you willing to tell me where my cousin is yet?” His voice was
loud and it echoed up the stairs.
“I don’t get it; I mean its just common sense really. How can I know
where he fled to if I’m still here? Obviously I know just as much as you
do. If I knew where he was, trust me, I would have told you by now
because frankly I don’t care about whether he dies or not. I don’t
care!” I tried to get him to understand. “And you can tell your friends
they’re wasting their time because John isn’t my ‘friend’, as you keep
saying. He was just my lawyer for family issues, but it’s all over now.
I haven’t seen him since the last time you saw me with him. Thanks to
him I got this house! Isn’t it fantastic?” I spread my arms and spun
around once, trying to make it seem like I had no actual feelings for
anyone but myself, kind of like him.
I don’t think Kayan bought it. Either that or he was just angry knowing
that he had no more hope of finding his cousin with his precious DVDs,
because he grabbed me by the neck and flung me against the wall right
next to the front door.
“Listen you little twerp—”
Another knock at the door. Crap.
“Get that. This could get interesting.” Kayan let go of my neck and hid
behind the front door as I opened it. My heart nearly jumped right out
of my chest and my stomach turned upside down when I saw who it was.
John was standing right there with his brows all furrowed and his hands
in his jean pockets. He seemed extremely concerned.
“John, what are you doing here?” I tried to make my voice sound harsh
and stern.
“Shuro, where have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you. I thought
something happened to you…”
I could feel Kayan staring at me with those piercing eyes. They were
weighing on me and the air felt heavy. My palms were sweating and I
tried to work out what to say.
“Why are you even here? I thought I made it clear that I don’t need you
anymore.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I left. Take a hint. I just needed you to sort out the issues
with my father, but now that he’s in jail, I could care less about you
and whatever you do. So why don’t you just leave already?” The words
stung as they escaped my lips. It was like this wasn’t even reality… It
was like it was some sort of freakish nightmare that I couldn’t get out
of.
John just stared back through those ocean blue eyes of his and tried to
read me.
All the time I was praying Kayan was as stupid as he looked and bought
this false version of myself. You’re protecting him, is all I kept
thinking to myself. You’re protecting him.
“I don’t understand…” John started.
I couldn’t do this. I must have been doing a pretty convincing job
because I could see I was hurting him. But I couldn’t go any further…
And yet…
“Everything was just an act. I was using you. The best lawyer in
Chicago! Lucky me! You’ve really lived up to my expectations.”
John seemed confused now. He appeared to be deep in thought though he
was staring profoundly into my eyes. I couldn’t risk him saying anything
that would jeopardize everything.
“Just leave, okay?! I don’t need you anymore!” And with that I slammed
the door shut in his face. Deep down I was hurting more than I ever had
in my life, though I tried not to wear that on my expression. Knowing
that I just hurt the person I cared the most for in this world… no
amount of cuts or scrapes or bruises could ever amount to that type of
pain.
“Some people just can’t take a hint,” I told Kayan. I was afraid my
emotions would show through, but I kept my cool.
Kayan appeared skeptical at first, but then he loosened up a bit. “I
don’t know how he got out of his house without my guys seeing him. Must
have left before they got there.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I’m going to let you be for now, Shuro…” Kayan started. “But don’t
think that it’s over.”
I simply nodded; even though I was more than positive it was the last
time I was going to be seeing Kayan. He just wanted to have the last
word and seem more intimidating than I knew he was.
“And don’t you dare speak a word about this to anyone, or I’ll find
you... You know I will.” He was heading toward the door now, and after
another nod I showed him the way out, never to see him again.
• • •
After that the days seemed to blur together to form a whole bunch of
hours of nothing. It had been a week since I did anything, really. I
didn’t go to St. Benedict’s, I didn’t see John, I didn’t even really get
out of the house unless it was to check the mail. The truth was I didn’t
know what was happening to me. If my stomach was healing, why did I feel
like I was falling apart?
I had never felt like this before. It was as if I was in a deep sleep
and couldn’t wake up. Everything I was living out simply felt like a
hazy dream. My heart ached and every time I thought about the thing I
said to John it made me want to curl up in a ball and never move ever
again. I wondered if he took everything I said seriously and really
thought I meant it. If he did, I would never be able to forgive myself.
For god’s sakes, why did I have to care so much? Everything would have
been a hell of a lot easier if I just stopped caring. That’s why I had
to get out. I had to go somewhere that would make me forget everything.
That night I got dressed and left the house at around eleven o’clock in
the evening. I wandered the streets in the dark of the night, passing
street lamp after street lamp. Everyone seemed to notice me that night
and I hated it. So many eyes peered at me through deep sockets, their
scornful expressions saying a thousand words. The night was chilly, and
every store around was closed. I walked pretty far until I found a grimy
alleyway that led to another street with music blaring, coming from one
of the nightclubs. This was exactly the thing I needed to get my mind
off things.
It all happened so fast. There was a drunk male outside the club who
took me aside and offered me a small baggy stuffed with cocaine. I
brushed him off at first but he only insisted further and brought me
into the club with him to go and do it.
There were so many people I barely had room to breathe. The music was
blaring straight to my eardrums and over it all this man was shouting
something to me I didn’t understand. Maybe he wasn’t even speaking
English. He still had a firm hold of my wrist and he dragged me to the
center of the room where there were heaps of girls, boys, men, women,
all jumping and dancing around to the beat of the music. From what I
could see of the place it didn’t look too shabby. The walls were red and
there were couches in different areas of the club where people sat and
drank and yelled over the music. There were strobe lights flashing,
there was a decent bar at the front and all around there were different
rooms where people did whatever they pleased in private.
The man that dragged me in here was still in front of me fiddling with
something. When he looked up he shoved something in front of my face and
at this point I just wanted to have a good time so I sniffed. I knew it
was the cocaine. He laughed and tousled my hair and disappeared into the
crowd and I never saw him again that night.
I had never been anywhere as crazy as this before. Not even the typical
clubs in teen movies with everyone spilling their drinks all over each
other and getting high together were anything like this. The crowd
seemed to move as one; everyone up against each other moving to the beat
and soon I was sucked up into it all as well. The drug must have been
getting to me because I suddenly felt amazing, as if I belonged here
with these strangers rubbing up against me. I saw so many faces,
everyone laughing and having a great time dancing and drinking and
smoking. Someone shoved a shot glass in my hand and chanted the typical
“chug, chug, chug!” so I did. At this point I didn’t have any cares in
the world. I felt just like everyone else, laughing and partying like a
wild animal.
I was so fucked up after a few hours that I barely even realized when
someone pulled me into a room at the back of the club at some point
during the night. All I remember seeing was a pool table and a few guys
and bright lights and a needle and a strap… Then a sharp prick in my
forearm and everything went all fuzzy and eventually completely black.
• • •
My eyes slowly peeled themselves apart to let in an enormous amount of
golden light. I winced and blinked a couple of times to let my eyes
adjust. I had a headache that I was sure had a pulse of it’s own that
felt like a thousand hammers had previously been thrashing away at my
skull. As I lifted my hand to hold my head, an ache in my arm throbbed
and I had to drop it. I looked down and saw that the inside of my left
forearm was a disgusting purplish red color. Broken blood vessels, I
told myself.
I looked around at my surroundings. I was in an alleyway. The same
alleyway that I had walked through to get to that club. I used the brick
wall of the alley to help me stand and I walked out into the sunlight.
There was a man sweeping up some rubble from the previous night who
didn’t seem to notice me. I clumsily walked down the street, passing a
few staring pedestrians.
I managed to make it all the way back to the manor, even though my
entire body was aching and I wasn’t completely sure where I was going. I
was surprised to see that it wasn’t even morning when I got back, but
late afternoon. I must have been in that alley for the majority of the
day.
I took a shower to get rid of the grime and dried blood and whatever
else was on my body that I didn’t know about from the night before. My
arm wasn’t getting any better.
By the time I was dry and dressed there was a familiar ring at the door.
I was still dizzy from the mess of a night just a few hours earlier,
even after taking the recommended dose of Tylenol, so I nearly tripped
on the way down the stairs.
I opened the door to the faces of three stern policemen in navy blue
uniforms staring down at me through narrowed eyes.
“Shuro Morrison?” One of them said. He was the tallest of them all and
stood in the middle. He had a long, narrow face and dark brown eyes. He
was in his mid-thirties and his expression told me he meant business.
“Yeah?”
“Officer Dax Brown, CPD.” He showed a badge. “We’re here to ask you a
few questions about Kayan Torres. You know him?”
This was it. This was what John and I were talking about. I had to
confess. “Yeah.”
They looked as though they weren’t expecting it to be that easy. “Well,
he’s one of our top suspects for robbing the Cermak warehouse the other
day. We’re going to need to take you to the station.”
“Fine.”
I hadn’t budged yet but the other two officers sped past Officer Brown
and cuffed my hands behind my back like I was some sort of psycho
murderer on a wild killing spree.
“Whoa, whoa! What are the cuffs for? I was following orders!”
“That’s in case you try anything funny,” Brown said with a wicked smirk.
The other two officers pushed me to the back of the police car. My arm
was still throbbing with pain and this position wasn’t the comfiest.
Brown and one other officer got in the front of the car I was in, while
the other got into another one that was parked right behind us. Two cop
cars to pick up one kid? I thought.
By the time we got to the station the sun was just about to set. The
station was very modernized, with many rooms and computers and high tech
equipment and people on phones. Officer Brown led me past a few rooms
with clear glass windows where people we being interrogated. We finally
stopped at one that was free and he shoved me inside.
“Wait in here for Officer Manning.”
So I did. The room was wide with only one table and two chairs. There
was a laptop set up on the table with strange wires coming out of it and
what appeared to be a blood pressure pump. The room was damp and my
hands were still bound behind my back by cold steel.
Officer Manning was a huge African American man with muscles bulging out
of his tight black t-shirt. If he was trying to be intimidating he was
doing an amazing job at it. He shut the door behind him and then walked
over. I felt the ground shake just as he sat down in the chair in front
of me.
“Shuro Morrison.” His voice was just as deep as I knew it would be. “I’m
officer Manning, I’m going to ask you a few questions with the lie
detector test.”
“Why, you don’t trust me?”
“Frankly, no. That’s my job as a police officer.” He was as serious as
anyone could be, his jaw clenched and fists folded. He suddenly stood
and began to set up the equipment on me. First he unlocked the cuffs
around my wrists and it felt so good to just stretch them out. He
grabbed my arm rather roughly but I don’t think it was on purpose.
Perhaps he just didn’t know his own strength. Of course the arm he
grabbed and chose to use for the test had to be the one that had
previously been shot with heroin. He examined my bruised arm for a
second and then proceeded to attach the equipment to my fingers and
upper arm. The last things he attached were two thick wires across my
chest. When he was finished he sat down in front of me again, then began
with asking questions we both already knew the answer to.
“What is your name?”
“Shuro Morrison.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Where were you born?”
“Here, in Chicago.”
He was making a few notes and looking back and forth from his pad to the
laptop screen which I couldn’t see. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
I bit my lip. “No. Why would you need to know —”
“Were you shooting heroin last night?”
“I — Um… I guess.”
“There is no ‘I guess’ in this room. Answer the question properly.”
“…Yes.”
“Do you know of a boy named Kayan Torres?”
“Yes.”
“Did he steal DVDs and games from the Cermak warehouse?”
I thought about it for a bit. “No.”
“Do you know of a boy named Malcolm Torres?”
“I… Yes.”
“Did he steal from the Cermak warehouse?” Officer Manning was examining
the laptop now with much intensity. When I didn’t answer right away he
stared me down with deep-set black eyes waiting expectantly.
I considered everything that would happen if I told the truth. This is
exactly what I had wanted to confess to just a few days earlier… wasn’t
it? Either way, the truth was coming out of me today. I was hooked up to
a goddamn lie detector machine for crying out loud. “Yes, he did.”
He seemed to forget the laptop and pad even existed as he now just
actually tried to talk to me like a normal human being.
“Did you assist Malcolm in stealing from the Cermak warehouse?”
“I… No! I mean, yes, I did, but I didn’t steal anything!”
“So you assisted him but you didn’t steal anything? You let him do the
dirty work so he would be the one to get caught?”
“No, it’s not like that,” I sighed. There was no point in holding
anything back anymore. I wasn’t already in too deep to slither my way
out of this one. “Kayan was the one who ordered the robbery, so you were
right about one thing. I used to work with his cousin Malcolm and I
overheard them talking one night. He told me I was involved now and that
if I didn’t help him make the pull his cousin would kill me. I went to
the warehouse, yes, but I bailed at the last minute. Malcolm disappeared
and never reported back to his cousin. No one knows where he is now.”
Officer Manning checked the screen to see if I was telling the truth.
His expression revealed nothing. “Is that all you know on the subject?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
The door to the room creaked open and both of our heads turned. In
walked a familiar snarky-looking man in his mid-thirties with a very
tall posture and a high-class business suit on. I recognized him
straight away with that scruffy G.I. Joe toy-look and then the level of
my agitation rose.
“William Sutherford? What the hell are you doing here?” I rose and
remembered I was still hooked up to the machine as wires shifted around
me and I felt tight tugs on the tips of my fingers.
“We called him for you. He’s your lawyer, after all.” Officer Manning
helped me take the wires off from my arms and around my chest. When I
was free, I stepped closer to Sutherford.
“Hello, Shuro. It’s good to see you.” I couldn’t help but take
everything he said as a mockery. He seemed far too false to actually
want to help me.
“Hi.” I said through clenched teeth.
“Get yourself into trouble again?”
“You don’t know anything,” I shook my head, glaring up at him.
“I know enough to know that you’re going to need a hearing for what
you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
“Looks like you’ve got a new court date to set,” Officer Manning
mentioned as he snatched up his pen and pad and came over to stand by
us.
“Indeed we do.”
I never took my eyes off Sutherford.
“I’ll see if next week is suitable. How’s that?” Sutherford said with a
grin, peering down at me.
“Fine.”
And he did just as he said. By Monday Sutherford rang me up to let me
know my court date was in a week’s time and that I should expect the
worse, so that I won’t be shaken up if they give me a horrible sentence.
To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect. If I were with John he would
have told me everything that was going to happen.
I lay in bed that night wondering what was going to become of me. Were
these my last days lying in this bed? Would I just be forgotten by
everyone around here like some broken toy? Would I ever have a decent
meal again? My mind circled with the worst-case scenarios and I tried to
shut them out and just concentrate on the moment, even if it was one of
the toughest things I have ever tried to do. |
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