Read Online If I Should Die by Grace F. Edwards - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace F. Edwards
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and saw the same inquisitive look she’d worn since we were teenagers. I wished I could tell her more but there was no point in involving anyone else.
“You know,” she smiled, dipping back into the bag of fries, “when you left the force, I listened to your howling for weeks, but let me tell you now. I was damn glad. You were meant for better things, Mali. We went all through school together. Sweated the exams, trudged up this hill in all kinds of weather, gave up the discos to sit through summer school. And who liked to shake their booty more than you and you gave it all up to hit the books. What was the point of it? What was the point of earning a degree in sociology just to become a damn cop? A GED would’ve gotten you the same job.”
“You know as well as I do why I joined the force,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You remember that night we were walking down that very hill from school, and less than a block from here, we saw the cops, three of them, beating that brother, pressing his face into that chain-link fence with the heels of their shoes, using theirflashlights on his head. You remember how he looked? His hands cuffed and his face a crisscross of swollen welts?
“And you remember how we screamed? Two women with nothing but our books in our arms and our loud mouths … and screaming all the louder when the cops moved toward us, calling us bitches, asking what the fuck we were looking at? Remember?”
Memory churned up an anger in me that I thought had grown cold, but as I spoke now, it spread to my throat, so hot and thick I couldn’t swallow. I put the sandwich down and turned to stare directly at Deborah, but she was looking across the avenue at the classroom on the third floor facing the park. Our old seventh-grade room where we had not yet learned the meaning of the limitations of blackness.
“That wasn’t fair, Mali. I had nightmares for years after. I tried hard to forget that night.”
“Well, I tried hard
not
to forget. I’ll never forget it. They were coming for us because we saw what they did and we backed away and they surrounded us, remember? And the only reason we’re alive today, I believe, is because other students heard our screams and had run down the hill. And the people came out of that building across the avenue. Came out in bathrobes and house slippers and curlers. Dog walkers showed up. And the cops knew they couldn’t do away with fifty witnesses. So they called for backup and yelled riot.
“I joined the force because I thought I could work to make sure nothing like that happened again—at least not on my watch.”
“But look,” she said, turning to me. “What you really joined was a force dedicated to one thing: keeping the natives in check. The tighter, the better. How long would you have lasted if you hadn’t hit that cop? Now you’re off the force. You were fired and you still want toplay Dick Tracy. Like I told you earlier, sometimes you have to change the world before you can change the neighborhood.”
“Well, maybe I should join the Peace Corps?”
She saw my changing expression and held up her hand. “I didn’t say that. But you’re back in school and I’m glad. I really am. Social work is your life. Ever since I can remember, you’ve wanted to change things. An advanced degree will make it easier.”
I wasn’t so sure how much easier it’d be, but I bit my tongue and remained silent as she continued. “And this cops-and-robbers thing, I think it goes a little beyond your concern for Alvin.”
I looked away. It was too simple to say that Erskin had been very special to me or that he didn’t deserve to die the way he did. I wondered if I should try to explain what I had felt, kneeling that day in the rain, my feelings floating somewhere between sister love and something deeper, and brushing my fingers over his face to close his eyes. How could I tell her that when I hold my hands together, I still feel the feathery lightness of
“You know,” she smiled, dipping back into the bag of fries, “when you left the force, I listened to your howling for weeks, but let me tell you now. I was damn glad. You were meant for better things, Mali. We went all through school together. Sweated the exams, trudged up this hill in all kinds of weather, gave up the discos to sit through summer school. And who liked to shake their booty more than you and you gave it all up to hit the books. What was the point of it? What was the point of earning a degree in sociology just to become a damn cop? A GED would’ve gotten you the same job.”
“You know as well as I do why I joined the force,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You remember that night we were walking down that very hill from school, and less than a block from here, we saw the cops, three of them, beating that brother, pressing his face into that chain-link fence with the heels of their shoes, using theirflashlights on his head. You remember how he looked? His hands cuffed and his face a crisscross of swollen welts?
“And you remember how we screamed? Two women with nothing but our books in our arms and our loud mouths … and screaming all the louder when the cops moved toward us, calling us bitches, asking what the fuck we were looking at? Remember?”
Memory churned up an anger in me that I thought had grown cold, but as I spoke now, it spread to my throat, so hot and thick I couldn’t swallow. I put the sandwich down and turned to stare directly at Deborah, but she was looking across the avenue at the classroom on the third floor facing the park. Our old seventh-grade room where we had not yet learned the meaning of the limitations of blackness.
“That wasn’t fair, Mali. I had nightmares for years after. I tried hard to forget that night.”
“Well, I tried hard
not
to forget. I’ll never forget it. They were coming for us because we saw what they did and we backed away and they surrounded us, remember? And the only reason we’re alive today, I believe, is because other students heard our screams and had run down the hill. And the people came out of that building across the avenue. Came out in bathrobes and house slippers and curlers. Dog walkers showed up. And the cops knew they couldn’t do away with fifty witnesses. So they called for backup and yelled riot.
“I joined the force because I thought I could work to make sure nothing like that happened again—at least not on my watch.”
“But look,” she said, turning to me. “What you really joined was a force dedicated to one thing: keeping the natives in check. The tighter, the better. How long would you have lasted if you hadn’t hit that cop? Now you’re off the force. You were fired and you still want toplay Dick Tracy. Like I told you earlier, sometimes you have to change the world before you can change the neighborhood.”
“Well, maybe I should join the Peace Corps?”
She saw my changing expression and held up her hand. “I didn’t say that. But you’re back in school and I’m glad. I really am. Social work is your life. Ever since I can remember, you’ve wanted to change things. An advanced degree will make it easier.”
I wasn’t so sure how much easier it’d be, but I bit my tongue and remained silent as she continued. “And this cops-and-robbers thing, I think it goes a little beyond your concern for Alvin.”
I looked away. It was too simple to say that Erskin had been very special to me or that he didn’t deserve to die the way he did. I wondered if I should try to explain what I had felt, kneeling that day in the rain, my feelings floating somewhere between sister love and something deeper, and brushing my fingers over his face to close his eyes. How could I tell her that when I hold my hands together, I still feel the feathery lightness of
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