by Vicky Jones
With Lawrence in her sight seemingly distracted by his men dropping like felled trees around him, Shona clenched her teeth and began to pace forward, as if oblivious to the melee around her. Lawrence was the only one in her crosshairs at that moment and every ounce of anger and hurt at what he’d done to her family was fizzing through her veins. Bending down halfway towards him, she picked up a baseball bat that someone had dropped in the chaos and swung it.
“Batter up,” she growled into the cacophony.
All around her, as she stalked closer to Lawrence, women were running around in the white smoke from several more grenades that had been flung at them. Lula had joined a small group of women who were wearing masks and clattering into police officers who battered them to the ground as if they were bowling pins. At the far corner of the street a police car had been set on fire, one Shona had fixed earlier that week. White smoke was replaced by black, as thick acrid fumes began to suck the oxygen out of the air, each sweat-soaked face Shona passed becoming grubbier by the minute.
Seconds later, as if a light had been switched on in her head, Shona stopped walking and dropped her bat. About three feet away from her, lying prone on the ground, was a face she recognized. It was Eric Everett, his brand new police uniform thick with the dirt and grime he’d picked up after trying in vain to fight off his attackers. A nasty head wound poured with dark red blood. His body was motionless and about to be set upon once again by a mob of stick-wielding rioters.
“No, leave him! Stop!” Shona yelled, ripping off her balaclava, then crouching down to shield the body.
“What’s your problem? He’s the enemy,” one of the rioters, a young woman wearing a yellow bloodstained tee-shirt and dirty white shorts, sneered back. In one hand she held a plank of wood with three hideous looking nails sticking out of it.
Shona looked up and flashed a murderous looking grin. “Back off, he’s mine.”
“No problem,” the woman set off about her next conquest.
Eric moaned and tried to lift his head. A few feet away from him was another cop coughing spurts of blood.
“It’s Shona. Stay still, I’ll be back in a minute,” Shona whispered into Eric’s ear. He must have understood because he hadn’t moved a muscle by the time Shona pulled up at the side of the road in her truck. Spotting Dee looking completely bewildered with what was going on around her, Shona called her over.
“What are you doing?” Dee asked, running over to find Shona trying to heave Eric up.
“He’s hurt. Bad. Now, help me. I gotta get him to the hospital.”
“If Bertie sees this, she’ll go crazy,” Dee said, shaking her head as she lifted Everett’s son’s legs over the tailgate, laying his body with a thud onto the back of Shona’s truck.
“We came out here to get their attention, to try and make a difference. Not to kill anyone.”
Chapter 26
The sun had barely risen when an exhausted Shona pulled up outside the garage. She stepped out of the truck, letting out a low whistle as her red-rimmed eyes took in the destruction all around her. Windows had been smashed to smithereens, the street littered with splintered wood and broken bottles. The car that had been set on fire was now cold but had left an ugly black stain on the bright grey road. Shona had returned home briefly from the hospital to explain to Chloe what had happened in town but had altered the story slightly, not wanting to worry her even more, knowing that Chloe was teetering on the edge of the abyss at the moment. Losing David had caused her enough heartache already without her facing the prospect of losing Shona too.
Eric Everett had needed seventeen stitches in his head wound and had a concussion but was otherwise going to be OK. Over the three hours she’d been in the emergency room, Shona had seen several injured cops brought in, but before the police force from the neighboring town could be deployed, Lawrence had fired several gunshots in the air to call off the rioters.
Shona, in the cold light of day, felt disgusted with herself for getting involved. As she’d driven down the highway to the hospital, all she could hear in her head was Dorothy’s croaky voice: “This isn’t you, Shona.”
A few hours later, after sweeping up the shards of glass strewn around the parking lot, a familiar voice piped up behind her. Turning around, Shona saw Minnie standing there holding a basket covered with a red and white checked dish towel.
“A bit of a skirmish in town last night, then,” Minnie said, eyeing Shona. “Edie in the store told me what had happened to the place. I was surprised she still had a job after what she told me, but she said she was wearing a balaclava so no one recognized her. Those women from San Francisco apparently did most of the damage around here. Everyone I’ve talked to this morning is glad to see the back of them. But why did you get involved, Shona?”
Shona looked at the ground, feeling the weight of Minnie’s knowing stare. “They took my boy, Minnie. I had to do something.”
Minnie’s face creased. “Oh Shona, it’s not like you to get involved with violence. That’s not the way to change things. You know that.” Her voice was soothing yet scathing at the same time. She handed over the basket and placed a hand on Shona’s shoulder. “Here, it’s just a few things I baked yesterday. I’m going to see William later. He still has a lot of friends in the office. Maybe he can talk to someone about all this business with David?”
“I’d appreciate that, Minnie. It can’t be legal, what they’re doing,” Shona replied, holding the basket against her chest.
“I know. But you need to keep out of trouble, Shona.” Minnie paused. “Maybe William can give Bill Everett a call, see if he’s able to come back yet. I know it’s been a few years, but this town needs a decent man to cut out the rot that’s set in since Lawrence took over.” Minnie’s eyes misted over, then refocused. “Always remember what’s important, Shona. Family.”
Shona nodded and waved goodbye to Minnie who climbed back into her car and set off. She looked over to the bar. The front windows were all smashed, the red and white striped awnings slashed and torn down. The door was scuffed and in need of a repaint. She pulled the garage doors closed and set off across the street to the bar.
“Hey Lula, Bertie around?” She walked up to the booth nearest to the door where Lula was sitting staring at the wall.
“Where did you slope off to last night?” Lula asked, not bothering to make eye contact.
“Nowhere. Where’s Bertie? I need to speak to her.”
“Nowhere, my ass. You were seen, Shona. Helpin’ that Everett boy into your truck. Word is he’s recoverin’ in hospital now. Two other police officers too, so I hear.”
“It got way out of hand last night, Lula. People got hurt.”
“Yeah, I know they did.” Lula paused, then turned to look Shona full in the face. Shona recoiled. Lula’s nose had clearly been broken. Around her left eye, she had a dark blue bruise and a three-inch cut across her eyebrow. “But I didn’t notice you throwin’ me on the back of your truck. Why should you give a shit, though, huh? Too busy playin’ nice. Tell me, Shona, why did you even want a piece of this action anyway?”
Shona felt guiltier the longer she looked at Lula’s injury. She’d been angry last night but she’d never wanted anyone to get seriously hurt. Apart from Lawrence. She tried again to apologize but Lula had already turned away.
“You can’t blame her,” Bertie said after walking up behind Shona. “We all feel a little disappointed in you, especially after all your big talk last night about helping the cause.” She was also nursing her own memories of last night; her lip was cut and her left arm bandaged at the wrist.
“I’d like to help pay for the damage here,” Shona said, pulling out a small wad of bills from the top pocket of her denim jacket.
“I don’t want your money, Shona. I wanted your support.” Bertie’s reply, like Lula’s, was soaked in disappointment. It was the first time Shona could recall seeing a vulnerable side to Bertie, but there it was.
“Take it. Call it
a donation from the community.” Shona reached over and tried to place it in the pocket of Bertie’s shirt, but Bertie stepped backwards.
“I can’t take your money, Shona. I just wanted your help and the only way to get it was to give you a reason to fight with us. I had to make you as angry at Lawrence as we are.”
Shona noticed a strange flicker in Bertie’s eyes. It looked like guilt.
“What? You made that call to the authorities,” Shona hissed, feeling her heart thud. “You got my kid taken away?”
“Don’t you realize what’s going on in this town, Shona? Every day, people like us are being persecuted for trying to live a normal life. I lost the love of my life because she couldn’t handle the shame of who she was. The sideways looks, the whispers behind her back, people around here judging us. Three years together, then one morning she’s gone. Just like that.” Bertie fought to contain the emotion now flooding through her words. “Why the hell should you get what we can’t have, huh?”
The room fell silent. Both women stood toe-to-toe, then Shona pressed her face into Bertie’s. “Leave me and my family the fuck alone, you piece of shit!”
Incapable of holding in her rage any longer, Shona tore the backyard of her garage apart seconds after Bertie left, her half-hearted apology for the phone call still hanging in the air. Oil drums, old crates and various boxes of nuts and bolts were kicked around with Shona finally ending up in a heap on the stony ground, a sobbing mess.
“I gotta get him back. I gotta get him back,” she repeated over and over again.
Almost an hour passed before Shona felt composed enough to drive home. It was still only midday, but she didn’t feel in the mood to be working. She needed to be somewhere where she could think, without people around her. Solitude was sometimes the only company she wanted. About half a mile in the opposite direction to the beach house, Shona saw a car broken down at the side of the road. Next to it was a young woman who, after spotting Shona’s approaching truck, began waving her arms to flag her down. Shona felt her right boot press slightly harder down on the gas pedal, but her better nature overwhelmed her desire to drive past. Sighing, she clicked on her turn signal and slowed the truck down, pulling in behind the red Pontiac.
“Having some trouble?” Shona called over as she climbed out of her truck and grabbed her tools from the back seat.
“Yeah, I heard a noise like nails being fed through a grinder, then it just cut out. You a mechanic?” the woman shouted back, wrinkling her nose in surprise. Shona was used to that comment by now. Normally she’d throw a witty comeback, but today wasn’t the day for it.
“Yeah. Want me to take a look or just tow you back to town?” Shona asked as she began walking over.
“Well, if you don’t mind taking a look? I’d be really grateful. I’m not having the best of days and this just topped it all off.” She wiped her eyes and ran a hand through her tousled sandy blonde hair. She was around twenty years old, wearing brown slacks and a white tee-shirt. Her light brown jacket was edged around the collar and lapels with a thin line of dark brown fur. Her pretty face was stained with dry tears, her tired looking eyes heavy lidded.
“You OK?” Shona asked.
“Not really. I’ve only been back home from college a day, then I get a call from the hospital saying my brother’s in bad shape. I’ve been there all night, then this damn heap of junk lets me down on the way back.” The young woman kicked the tire in frustration. Shona nodded, completely able to empathize with her on that. “I’m Alison, by the way.” She held her hand out to Shona who shook it.
“Shona. Now, let’s have a look under the hood.”
“I really appreciate this, Shona. My dad usually takes care of all this stuff but he’s out of town.”
Shona buried her head in the engine bay looking for the fault. Less than an hour later, the car was all fixed up and Alison was back behind the wheel. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you, Shona?”
Shona shook her head. “No charge. It was just a bit of grit in the fan belt and some wires to tighten. But my garage is just in the town back there, so if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you, Shona, I’ll remember that,” Alison replied, then set off again on her journey.
Chapter 27
“I know it don’t mean anything to you, but I genuinely am sorry the way things turned out with the kid. I didn’t think they’d actually take him away from you,” Bertie began after strolling into the garage and leaning against the car Shona was fixing that Wednesday morning.
Shona stuck her head out from underneath the car and looked up at her in disbelief. “What the hell did you think they would do? It’s all but sent Chloe over the edge again. You know no one will accept two women to bring up a kid together, like as a couple.”
“I know. But that’s gonna change one day, you’ll see. The wheels are in motion, and that’s why us standing up to the police is the right thing to do,” Bertie replied.
“One day maybe, but not in our lifetime. You can protest and stomp your feet all you want, but the law is the law. They’re kicking people out of the armed forces for being like us, no matter how good their service record is. They don’t want queers in their society, Bertie, full stop. I can’t believe you let me think that violence was the way to make them listen. All we can do is live a quiet life.” Shona slid back underneath the car and clanged her wrench loudly against the bracket she was trying to loosen.
“Well, you say that. But I heard on the grapevine that because you were seen helping Everett’s son and those other police guys, then we might be able to broker at least a truce for now. Give us time to plan our next skirmish without being raided every night.” Bertie grinned as Shona slid out again, more forcefully this time.
“For God’s sake, Bertie, you get a truce and all you wanna do is keep fighting? You and your girls not get beat up enough last time?” Shona pointed her wrench at the still healing cut on Bertie’s bottom lip.
“What choice do people like us have, huh? It’ll always be them winning. A truce just means they want us to keep quiet, stay obedient. Well, fuck that.”
“I can’t help you,” Shona replied. “I won’t help you. We ain’t friends. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
“Good morning, Shona, how have you been?”
Bill Everett was standing at the garage doors looking ten years older than the last time Shona had seen him. His sandy hair was a little thinner at the sides, the lines on his face more pronounced.
“Sheriff Everett!” Shona exclaimed, her face beaming. They had only known each other for a few weeks before his tragic family news, but they had already forged a bond, and, since Lawrence had been in charge, she’d missed Everett’s strong calm leadership. “How have you been? Are you back in town now?”
“Not quite. We got the news about Eric being in the hospital, so we came straight down. I’m leaving Shirley here to look after him while I go back up to Portland. Dad’s still not…” He tailed off, then smiled back at Shona. “I see your place is doing well.”
“Yeah, I’m making a living,” Shona replied, wiping her oily hands on a towel before offering Everett a coffee.
“No thanks, I can’t be long. Shirley’s just across the street picking up some groceries. I just wanted to come over here and see how you were doing. And to thank you for what you did the other day.”
Shona blushed. “Oh, don’t worry, it was nothing. Anyone would have done the same. Your son needed help and I…”
Everett held up his hands to protest. “No, no, I don’t mean what you did for Eric. I’m truly grateful for that too but what I meant was what you did for my daughter. Alison?” Everett waited for Shona to remember. “She told me about ‘a woman called Shona who saved her bacon at the side of the road’ on Saturday morning. I’m truly thankful you came along. Some of those tow truck guys might have taken advantage…” He tailed off, then refocused his eyes.
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“She’s your daughter? I didn’t know. She never gave me her last name,” Shona replied. “But you’re welcome.”
“She said you wouldn’t take any payment either?”
“No, sir.”
Everett stared at Shona and smiled. “Well now, if that’s the case then I’m just going to have to do something else to repay you. How about I recommend this place to all my friends and family so they can bring some more business your way. They’ll pay, of course. I just want them to have the best mechanic I know on their vehicles.”
Shona nodded and shook Everett’s hand. “Thank you, sir, that would be swell. But I won’t charge the police officers. No matter what Lawrence thinks of me, that ain’t changed around here since day one.”
“So be it, then. You’re a one-off, Shona, a real asset to this town.” He turned to walk away. When he was at the edge of the sidewalk, Shona called after him. “Yeah?”
“Come back to work soon,” Shona said, her eyes imploring him.
“We’ll see,” he replied.
Chapter 28
For the first time in nearly a week, Chloe dared to go out in public. It had been six hellish days since David had been taken away. Six long days of desperate phone calls to every Children’s Bureau officer she could get the number for, but no one would give her any more details than “your son is safe, he’s being cared for.” Walking the half mile into town, she’d decided that she couldn’t stay cooped up indoors for much longer. The townsfolk would already be churning over the different stories they’d been told, each one putting their own opinion in for good measure no doubt. She had barely eaten or slept that week, and not felt like cooking at all even though she knew Shona needed to keep her strength up for work. With that in mind, the bakery was her first port of call.