by Earl Sewell
“Come on, Keysha!” Mike grabbed ahold of my arm and began pulling me away from the stampeding brawl. We pushed and forced our way outdoors only to find complete chaos. People were clashing on the street, smashing out the windows in the empty house next door and defacing property with cans of spray paint. I watched a group of rowdy rebels kick in the front door of the empty house and then charge inside to go on a vandalizing rampage.
“Come on, Keysha, we’ve got to get out here!” Mike yelled. Within a matter of seconds there were cops everywhere and the crowd began stampeding in multiple directions like a herd of wild horses.
“Run!” I shouted, and took off running as best I could in the direction of our house. Mike rushed past me but slowed when he saw that I wasn’t keeping up.
“Take off those dang heels, Keysha!” Mike howled at me.
“I can’t run barefoot because I’ll cut my feet,” I said, but kicked off my shoes anyway and began sprinting as fast as I could. Behind me I heard police dogs barking and people screaming with fear. Growing anxiety made me concerned about Maya. I didn’t know where she was. I wasn’t sure if she’d gotten out or somehow got tangled up in the bedlam and was in desperate need of help.
sixteen
Once I reached our driveway I stopped running, leaned over, placed my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. It was then that I’d noticed the blood between my toes. I sat on the grass, folded my leg onto my thigh to take a closer look. A sizable chunk of flesh dangled on the ball of my right foot, and if I didn’t get it taken care of right away I’d end up with a nasty infection.
I looked around for Mike, but he’d already rushed inside the house.
“Bastard!” I said aloud, angry that he’d gone inside without me. I gathered myself, rose to my feet, and hopped on my left leg all the way down the driveway and over to the door. Just as I was about to bang on it with my fist, Mike opened it.
“I was on my way back out to see where you were,” he said, still breathing heavily. “I thought you were right behind me.”
“You know I’m nowhere near as fast as you, Mike,” I said as I leaned against him.
“What happened?” he asked, looking down at my foot.
“I don’t know. I must have stepped on something, because my foot is messed up,” I hobbled into the house. Mike helped me up the stairs and over to the sofa. He slid the footrest under my heel so he could take a look at it.
“Damn!” He winced.
“Is it that bad?” I asked.
“Well, it’s not pretty,” he assured me.
“Dang it!” I frowned. “Help me get to the bathroom so I can clean and bandage it up.”
“Once I saw you kick off your shoes I turned and got in the wind,” he explained as I lowered the lid on the toilet seat and sat. He turned on the cold water and pulled out the first-aid kit that was in the medicine cabinet.
“Yeah, you and about a thousand other people,” I said, repositioning myself. “Where did Sabrina and her girlfriend Katina go?”
“When a bunch of guys came into the house with barking pit bulls I told them that it was time to go. They went over to Katina’s house and I went looking for you,” he explained. “Where were you, anyway?”
“I was upstairs,” I said. Mike helped me clean my wound, cut away the skin-tissue flap and bandage my foot.
“What happened to Maya?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said as I reached into my pocket and removed my cell phone. I didn’t have any messages from her so I called. Her phone rang for a while and then went to voice mail.
“She’s not answering,” I said.
“Call Misalo,” Mike suggested. Thankfully, I had his number programmed into my phone and gave him a call.
“Same thing,” I said. “It rang for a while, then went to voice mail. I hope they’re okay.” I paused as I recalled something Mike had said earlier.
“You said that a fight broke out in the back. Who was fighting?” I asked.
“When I was in the back looking for you a mob came from around the front of the house. They were pissed off with another group of guys who were on the deck and decided that they wanted to fight. I saw people jumping in to break it up and it escalated from there. At that point I went back inside and that’s when I ran into you.”
“Wow,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and swiveling my head disapprovingly.
“What about your boy, Jerry?” Mike asked.
“Oh, wow, I totally forgot about him,” I said, feeling bad. I dialed his number, but it went directly to voice mail.
“Where was he when all hell broke loose?” Mike asked.
“In the basement trying to prevent the dog fight,” I said, feeling a rush of nervous energy race through me.
“This incident will probably make the evening news,” Mike said.
“Maybe so,” I agreed.
“One thing is for sure—we can’t let Mom or Dad know that we were anywhere near that party. They’d chop off both of our heads if they knew we took part in all of the chaos,” Mike said.
“You don’t have to worry about me saying anything,” I assured him.
“What are you going to say happened to your foot?” Mike pointed to it.
“I’ll tell them I cut it while walking barefoot around the pool deck,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s a good one,” Mike commented, liking the lie I’d tell if the subject came up.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to reach Maya without any success at all. I was going crazy with worry because I feared that something horrific had happened to her. I even phoned her house several times, but didn’t get an answer.
After my family ate dinner together we gathered in the family room to watch a rented movie. The moment Jordan turned on the television, the first thing I heard was reporter Angela Rivers providing the details on a wild teen house party. Jordan wasn’t paying much attention to it and was about to flip the channel, but Barbara stopped him.
“Hold on a second, baby, I’ve seen that house before,” Barbara said, taking a very close look at the background shot.
“Two brothers, one seventeen and the other twenty, decided to throw the party of the summer for a few close friends. What they didn’t count on was this—” Angela paused as a video clip of all the stampeding teenagers was shown.
“Caught on cell phone video are drunken and out-of-control teens defacing property, brawling and smashing out windows. When the police arrive you see packs of teenagers fleeing in multiple directions as they try to avoid being arrested or detained by the police. This is an unusual occurrence for a quiet suburban community, and neighbors say the two young men who hosted the party are new to the area. Police have arrested the two young men and have contacted their parents, who were out of town when the rowdy party took place. Authorities also discovered that there were dog-fighting matches, and charges will be brought against the homeowners and others for this cruel and vicious activity. Paramedics had to be called in to deal with injuries ranging from cuts and bruises to broken bones. Police say that a thorough investigation will be launched and charges will be brought against anyone involved in spraying graffiti on private property. As for the two young men who hosted the party, additional charges are expected to be filed against them as well. Authorities are encouraging anyone with any other information to contact the South Holland Police Department. Reporting live from South Holland, I’m Angela Rivers.”
“I am so glad that neither one of you were involved in that foolishness,” Barbara said as the news report ended.
“I think they’ve learned their lesson,” Jordan said in support of us.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Mike chimed in as all three of them glanced over at me.
“Hey, I don’t have time for that type of drama. I’ve got a job to keep me busy,” I added.
“Good,” Jordan said as he walked over to the DVD player and inserted the movie.
“What movie did you get?�
�� Mike asked Barbara.
“It’s a remake of an old ’80s television show called Fame. I thought you guys would like it.”
“I’m cool with it,” Mike said, glancing over at me briefly before turning back to watch the movie.
Around 1:00 a.m. my cell phone rang. I wasn’t sleeping very hard because I’d left several desperate messages for Maya to call me whenever she could. I immediately snatched my phone from beneath my pillow and answered it.
“Hello,” I greeted the caller.
“Hey, it’s me, Maya,” she spoke softly.
“Where have you been, girl? I’ve been driving myself crazy with worry.” I scolded her for not calling me sooner.
“Did you get out before all of the craziness started?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, sensing that she wasn’t as lucky.
“Well, I didn’t,” she said with a nervous edginess in her voice.
“What happened?” I sat upright and gave her my full attention.
“My right fibula bone and ankle are broken and I have a cast on up to my hip,” Maya said tearfully.
“Are you kidding me?” I said, turning on the light in my room.
“No.” I heard her sniffling.
“What happened?” I whispered, feeling awful about not being there for her.
“Misalo wanted to go into the basement to watch the stupid dog fight. I told him I didn’t want to see that, but he persuaded me to go down there with him for just a minute because he was only curious. After squeezing our way down the stairs, we quickly discovered that it was too jam-packed to see anything, so we decided to leave. The minute we tried to get back out, people were pushing to get down into the basement. Next thing I know I hear the dogs barking. I thought they’d started the fight but they hadn’t. The dogs got spooked or something and started attacking people. People started pushing to get out.” Maya paused and cried a little, which caused me to cry. “I felt like I was being crushed alive, Keysha. My foot got pinned against the first step and I couldn’t move it. As people kept pushing forward from the back I felt as if my entire body was in a vice or about to be completely smashed like garbage in a trash compactor.”
“Where was Misalo?” I asked, walking over to my dresser to grab a few tissues.
“He was right next to me yelling at people to back up, but they were all shouting for us to move forward because the dogs had gone wild. Then I heard a loud cracking sound, and I felt my leg collapse. I screamed because I was in so much pain. Misalo put my arm around his neck, then propped his foot against the step and pushed back against the crowd. He was able to create enough space to free up my leg. Then all of a sudden the people who were trying to come down the stairs into the basement started yelling ‘The cops are here’ and began to scramble. Misalo picked me up and carried me up the stairs and out the door.”
“Oh, Maya, I am so sorry,” I said as I continued to cry.
“When we got outside it was like the world had gone crazy. People were running and shouting and fighting. Misalo set me down on the grass but had to stand over me and fight off a stampeding herd of people who were charging like wild buffalo. I’d never seen anything so crazy my entire life,” she said, and continued to cry for a solid five minutes.
“Did the paramedics help you?” I asked.
“Yeah, they helped me, but when I looked at my leg and foot they were really messed up. Misalo rode to the emergency room with me and called my parents. I have to be in this thing for eight weeks. My summer is totally ruined, and I’m going to lose my job,” Maya said, bursting into tears. I felt horrible and didn’t know what to do or say, so I cried with her and told her I’d be over to see her as soon as I could.
seventeen
On Saturday morning I hobbled to work, but I didn’t do my usual routine of vacuuming the pool, hosing down the deck or checking the chlorine balance because my foot was still feeling raw and sore. I wanted to swim and blow off some steam, but I really couldn’t get into the water with the open sore on my foot. I was upset and didn’t want to do anything except sit on a lawn chair and listen to sad yet uplifting music, so I selected a Mary J. Blige album I’d downloaded onto my iPod. I put on my sunglasses, stared blankly at the blue sky and prayed for Maya’s speedy recovery. Before long I’d drifted off into a light sleep.
I was awakened by the squeaking sound of the clubhouse door opening. I didn’t bother to look and see who was coming out. I just assumed it was some parent and their small child coming for a swim. “Are you Keysha Kendall?” a woman’s voice asked. I looked up and saw a man and a woman with service revolvers perched on their hips and knew they were cops.
“Yeah,” I answered her slowly, wondering why they were there looking for me.
“I’m Detective Crane, and this is my partner, Detective Rosati,” said the female officer. The woman was a tall, thin redhead with a short haircut, pasty skin and brown freckles. She appeared to be in her early forties, but the crow’s-feet around her eyes suggested she was older. Detective Rosati looked like a hard-ass with a beer belly, a receding hairline and an annoying sniffling habit that caused him to suck in air through his nostrils every two seconds.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” she said, pulling up a chair from a nearby table.
“Questions about what?” I asked, feeling an anxiety attack surfacing. My heart began pounding against my chest, I was edgy and uneasy.
“Just relax, we’re just doing a little investigation,” said Detective Crane. She took out her badge and showed me her identification. She then took out a notepad and pen.
“Keysha, how old are you?” she asked.
“Seventeen,” I answered.
“You’re a minor as well,” she muttered. “Where are your parents?”
“Why?” I asked, getting defensive and not wanting to give out any unnecessary information.
“It’s just a routine question.” Detective Crane tried to put me at ease, but I began to feel myself tensing up.
“They’re at home,” I answered reluctantly.
“That’s fine. Do you still live at this address?” Detective Crane showed me a sheet on her notepad that had my address on it.
“Yeah, how did you get that information?” I asked.
“We had it in our database. It seems as if you’ve had a charge brought against you in the past.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I know the charges were dropped,” Detective Crane finished my sentence for me.
“So what’s this visit about?” I asked, wanting them to hurry up and leave.
“Do you know Jerry and Erin Hammond?” she asked.
“Yeah. I know Jerry better than I do Erin,” I answered.
“How long have you known Jerry?” asked Detective Rosati.
“I’ve only known him a few weeks,” I said.
“Were you guys romantically involved?” he continued to question me
Agitated, I exhaled and gave an ugly glance. “Why is that any of your business?” The ghetto Keysha was starting to come out.
“It’s important to our investigation,” Detective Crane explained. I once again hesitated before I answered their question. They were making me nervous; they seemed to be playing close attention to my every movement and expression.
“Like I said, I’ve only known him for a few weeks. He and his brother come here to swim just like everyone else. I’m not sure what you’d call our relationship status. We weren’t exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, but we were talking to each other.”
“Did he mention the party that he and his brother were going to have yesterday?” asked Detective Rosati.
“Yeah, he told me about it.” I cut my eyes at him because I didn’t trust him at all. Something about him made me feel totally on edge.
“And were you at the party?” he asked, following up his question with another one.
“Why do you need to know that?” I asked, once again getting defensive.
“We’re just trying to
establish where you were when the party was taking place,” said Detective Crane.
I huffed and then turned my attention away from them. “Yeah, I was at the party. Is that a crime?” I asked.
“No, but underage drinking, use of illegal drugs, dog fighting, criminal mischief, burglary and defacing of property are,” said Detective Rosati.
“Well, I didn’t do any of those things that you’re talking about. I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs,” I said in my own defense.
“Do your parents know that you were at this party?” asked Detective Crain.
“No,” I said, folding my arms across my bosom and shooting daggers at her with my eyes, hoping she didn’t get the notion to go to my house and snitch on me.
“Since you know Jerry, did he mention to you or do you know who might have brought the illegal drugs and alcohol to the party?”
“I have no idea.” I paused. “Shouldn’t you be asking Jerry and Erin these questions?”
“A second team of officers are dealing with them,” said Detective Crane.
“Do you know whose idea it was to go break into the property next door and spray graffiti on the walls?” asked Detective Rosati.
“No,” I said with an attitude.
“Do you know anyone who ran inside and participated?” asked Detective Crane.
“No,” I answered. “Look, when my brother and I walked out of the house all hell was breaking loose. We decided at that point to leave and go home. What happened afterward is beyond me, because I wasn’t there.”
“So, you have a brother who was also there.” This seemed to be news to Detective Crane. “Where is he right now?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. I didn’t want to say anything else.
“Is he at home, perhaps?” She pressed the issue.
“I said I don’t know. I don’t keep tabs on him like that. Am I under arrest or something?” I flat-out asked.