Double Dead

by Gary Hardwick

  “What's the deal on the McDonald's and the KFC?” asked Ramona. “Seems like they wouldn't come here.”

  “Neighborhood's bad,” said Jesse. “But the families here probably feed their kids on that stuff.”

  A car horn sounded, and they jumped at the sound. Looking over, they saw an old Pontiac with three black men in it at the corner.

  “Yo, y'all need a ride?” asked a man in the passenger seat. He was about thirty or so, big and bald-headed. His teeth were yellow and jagged.

  “Naw,” Jesse said. He grabbed Ramona's hand and swiftly walked away. The Pontiac turned the corner and followed them.

  “What's their problem?” said Ramona.

  “I don't--”

  The Pontiac pulled over, and the doors opened up. The three men were getting out.

  Jesse and Ramona took off running. They ran up the street and didn't look back. The green duffel bag jumped and tossed as Jesse ran with it on his back. He looked over his shoulder. The men were closing on them. Jesse turned a sharp right and went down a street.

  Suddenly they heard a train whistle blasting in the distance. Jesse remembered that there were train tracks nearby. “This way,” he yelled as he pulled Ramona across a street.

  “You can't run, nigga!” said one of the men.

  The crossing arm was down as the train approached. Jesse and Ramona sped up. The engine's whistle blew a warning. They ran harder and crossed the tracks just before the big train roared into the intersection, closing off their pursuers.

  The couple stopped and caught their breath. They turned toward the three men. They could see them in flashes as the train rolled by. Jesse looked down the tracks. The train was long, but the men would probably get in their car and go around it.

  “Those busters--” said Ramona. She was still out of breath. “They tried to jack us.”

  “I think maybe they recognized us, or they were going to rob us,” said Jesse. “Come on, we need to lay low for a while.”

  They walked down a long, narrow street with an abandoned factory on the corner. Jesse found a house that looked empty. They went inside through a broken window. The train rumbled in the distance.

  It was cold in the basement of the vacant house. Jesse could hear the wind gusting outside. They had been hiding out all day. Moving from one house to the next, one street to the next. They'd seen the three black men riding around the neighborhood looking for them once but had kept out of sight.

  Jesse knew this part of town well. A family named White once lived in the house he was in now. They had a little boy who made kites out of newspaper and old shopping bags. Jesse had a strangely good feeling in his heart. He'd had some good times here. There were not many, but over time the good memories always outlasted the bad.

  Ramona was huddled next to Jesse, her arm wrapped around his waist. Jesse could feel her body expand and fall as she breathed.

  “I think maybe it's safe to go now,” he said.

  “We're a long way from that safe house,” said Ramona.

  “How are we gonna get there?” “I don't know,” said Jesse.

  “But it's dark, and we'll have a better chance of moving around.”

  They got up and went to the window they'd climbed in. The staircase to the upper part of the house was rotted away. Jesse moved to the window and was about to lift Ramona up when he heard something crash above them.

  “What was that?” asked Ramona.

  “Sounded like glass breaking,” said Jesse. “Come on, let's get out of here.” He grabbed her by the waist and started to lift.

  “Jesse,” said Ramona, “something's burning. Smell.” He stopped for a moment. Faintly he smelled the odor of

  burning wood.

  “Jesus,” said Jesse. “Let's get out of here.”

  He lifted her through the window, then climbed out after her. Outside, they saw smoke, and the yellow flicker of a fire behind the house's boarded-up windows.

  “Oh, shit,” said Jesse, checking his watch. “It's Devil's Night.”

  “Damn,” Ramona said quietly. “Then we have to get away from here now. People will be coming soon.” They hurried down the street.

  Detroit had a long and infamous tradition of arson on Devil's Night. Many fires were set in the city's most impoverished areas, causing destruction and further tainting the city's image. But recently the city and community groups had taken to the streets to stop the arsonists. If the patrols were out, the fire would attract a swarm of firefighters, police, and volunteers.

  Like clockwork, as they got to a street corner, they saw three cars with civilian volunteers racing down the street. Soon they heard the sound of fire engines and police cars. The people were very organized. The area would be full of volunteers, looking for the kids who'd started the fire.

  “We need a place to hide,” said Ramona. A police cruiser rounded a corner several blocks away. Its siren and lights were on. It was coming right toward them.

  “This way.” Jesse pulled Ramona across the street and between two houses. They waited until the cruiser passed, then ran up Victoria Street.

  “Where are we going?” asked Ramona.

  “No time,” said Jesse.

  A few streets away they ran into the backyard of a small house. They now heard the fire engines coming. Jesse and Ramona went through the house's backyard, across an alley, and into the backyard of another house that was painted a faded blue.

  On the street a car rolled up, and they heard the car doors open, then close. The patrol always checked the nearby streets, looking for the arsonists. That was bad news. Jesse knew that if they were spotted, the volunteers would call the police.

  Jesse went to the back of the house and knocked on the door. Nothing.

  “Jesse,” said Ramona nervously, “we have to go.”

  Jesse said nothing. He could hear the patrols coming closer. He knocked again, and after a moment the door opened.

  Bernice, Jesse's sister, looked out through the dirty screen door of the faded blue house. She regarded Jesse with shock, then anger. She started to say something, then shut the door in his face.

  “Bernice! Bernice!” Jesse said in a hushed voice. “Open this goddamned door.” Ramona saw a flashlight beam flicker across a tree in the backyard. “Let's run,” she said, pulling at Jesse's arm.

  He just stood there, looking at the door like it had betrayed him. Then the door opened, and Nikko opened the screen door and let them in. Jesse and Ramona ducked inside, locking the door behind them.

  Inside the house Bernice sat on the sofa in the living room watching TV. She ate from a bag of potato chips. She didn't look at Jesse as he sat in the dining room with Ramona.

  “Damn, Uncle Jesse,” said Nikko. “What you doin' here, man?”

  “We need to stay here for a while.”

  “Jesse, we can't stay here,” said Ramona. “If this is your sister's place--”

  “It's okay,” said Jesse. “The police probably sat on the house for a while until they found out that me and my sister...” He trailed off. “They know that this is the last place I'd go.”

  “The cops are down the block,” said Nikko. He went to the window. “Damn, they're gone. They used to sit three doors down in an ugly green car, but--”

  “The fire,” said Jesse. “There was a fire three streets over. They probably got a call to go to it. The mayor hates bad press the day after Devil's Night.”

  “Niggas messin' up,” Nikko muttered. “Won't be nothing left 'round here if they don't stop.”

  Jesse looked at Bernice. She continued to stare blankly at the TV.

  The house was well kept, but Jesse knew it wasn't Bernice's doing. Letisha probably kept house for them all. “Where's your sister?” he asked. “She went out with some dude,” said Nikko.

  “A date?” said Jesse. “She'd not old enough to go out. How

  come you let her--”

  “None of your fuckin' business what she's doing,” Bernice snapped. She got up and
walked into the dining room. “I should call the police on your ass. Mr. Big-Time Lawyer, running from the cops with some ho.”

  Ramona started to say something, but Jesse stopped her as he stood up and walked over to his sister.

  “Call the police if you want to,” he said. “I won't try to stop you.”

  “You can't stop me,” said Bernice. “I should throw you out, sorry, murdering--”

  The front door opened, and Letisha King walked in drinking a Coke. She was a young girl with big eyes and short black hair.

  “Hey, y'all, there's a fire out--” Letisha's eyes widened when she saw Jesse. She dropped her Coke on the floor, then picked it up. “Uncle Jesse,” she said in a whisper.

  Nikko rushed to his sister. “He just came. We gotta hide him.”

  “No, we don't,” said Bernice angrily. “We don't have to do shit. You threw me out of your house like a dog, Jesse, and now you come here. Well, I got your ass now.” She moved over to a phone on a table.

  “You won't do it,” said Jesse.

  “Like hell I won't.”

  “You know why I threw you out,” he said. “And you know I didn't kill anybody, Bernice. You wanna scare me? Well, I'm already more scared than I've ever been in my life.”

  “Good,” Bernice snapped. “You need to get taken off your damned high horse.”

  “I put you out of my house because I couldn't support you hurting yourself,” said Jesse. “And you know what? I don't regret it. It was what you needed.”

  “And maybe this trouble you're in is what your ass needs.” Her voice was losing its edge.

  Jesse backed down a little at the truth in her words, then: “Maybe it is,” he said. “Go on, call if you want to. I don't give a shit.” He sat back down next to Ramona.

  “Want me to stop her?” Ramona whispered. Jesse shook his head.

  Bernice looked at her brother, the phone shaking in her hand. She started to cry and put the receiver down. Then she walked up the stairs without a word.

  Nikko moved over to the phone and hung it up. “Phone don't work anyway,” he said. “We can't pay the bill.”

  “She went to the hospital and signed up for that drug program today,” Letisha explained. “That's why she's so cranky. So, Uncle Jesse, did you kill them people?”

  “No, Letisha,” Jesse said. To Nikko, he said, “Your mother checked into rehab by herself?”

  “Yeah,” said Nikko and Letisha together. They smiled like it was Christmas.

  Jesse stood up and turned to Ramona. “I'll be right back.” He went upstairs.

  Jesse entered the small bedroom where his sister slept with Letisha. The house had only two bedrooms, and Nikko had one to himself. One side of the room looked normal, but Letisha's side had a big poster of TLC and other singing groups. There were also rows of cheap-looking shoes lined up against a wall. He remembered that Letisha loved shoes.

  Bernice was sitting on the bed with her face in her hands. “I went to the hospital today,” she said.

  “I know,” said Jesse, sitting next to her. “Nikko and Letisha told me. Life ain't easy for nobody, you know. I thought I'd made it away from all this, and look at me.”

  Bernice got up off the bed and moved over to a dresser. She didn't look at him. “Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I don't even know who that woman is on the other side,” she said despondently. “She's nasty-looking and sad. I just want to kill her for ruining my life.”

  “Funny. I felt the same way this morning,” said Jesse.

  He stood and hugged his sister. He felt his problems fade away. This was all the family he had left, he thought. He just hoped that after this was over, they'd still have him.

  He heard footsteps coming his way. Ramona poked her head into the room. Jesse and Bernice broke their embrace, feeling a little embarrassed.

  “Hey,” said Ramona.

  “We're okay up here,” said Jesse.

  “Your nephew says he can borrow a car and take us to LoLo's safe house.”

  “But Nikko isn't old enough to-- Forget it,” said Jesse. “I keep forgetting where I am.”

  “He can drive pretty good,” said Bernice. “I taught him back when we had a car.”

  “I'd like to stay, Bernice,” said Jesse.

  “I understand,” said Bernice. “Y'all can't stay the night anyway. Those reporters come by every morning bothering me.”

  “We can go out the back,” said Jesse. “Nikko can circle around and pick us up on another street.”

  “I'll tell him,” said Bernice. She put her hand on Jesse's face, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful.”

  When his sister had gone, Jesse went to a window and looked out on the street. The community patrols were gone, but he could see the lights of fire engines two streets over. Ramona appeared beside him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  “You were right,” she said. “Everybody's family is messed up.”

  He smiled and kissed her.

  5

  Healing

  LoLo had spent the day taking pain pills and sitting on her ass. Her bandaged arm throbbed where Cane had slashed her. If she hadn't reacted so fact, he would have cut her throat.

  Marly and the twins were in prison, and Walker was dead. That damned Little Jack. She should have known never to trust a man, no matter how young he was.

  Cane had played her but good. He was bold and didn't care about his own safety. How did you fight a man like that, one who did not seem afraid of anything? She had to admit she had a grudging respect for his crazy ass. But she had to hit him back and soon. Cane would never stop until he had all of Detroit. She couldn't wait to see if he could do it.

  Yolanda was out on the street, dealing, trying to keep everyone cool. She was also getting information on Marly and the twins. If they could bail out the twins, they would jump bail, and then they could regroup and get Cane. Marly, though, was in on a murder charge. She was not getting out for a long time.

  LoLo sat up in the bedroom of her safe house. She had been so many places lately that she was running out of them. This was where she came when she was really desperate. The little one-story house on the east side was nothing to look at, but the neighborhood was nice. The last place someone like Cane would look for her.

  A man came in carrying a glass of orange juice. “Here, drink this.”

  “Thanks, baby,” LoLo said, taking the glass. The juice was sweet and cold as it ran down her throat.

  “It's bad this time, Lo,” said the man. “This Cane boy is bad news.”

  “Don't worry, Bumper,” said LoLo. “I'll take care of it.”

  Bumper Dixon sat next to LoLo on the bed. He was older than LoLo, almost forty. A handsome man, Bumper was tall and muscular in build. His skin was light brown, his hair was short and wavy, and his eyes were a soft hazel. His face nonetheless was etched with the hardness of his past. Deep lines of regret and pain were also within his princely visage.

  Bumper had been an actor before he got hooked on coke in Los Angeles, and he had come back to Detroit in shame. He'd kicked around hustling and did time for possession. He was not a hard type but was not the kind of man you took lightly either. He'd done his share of violence over the years.

  Bumper had met LoLo at a club and had become her man that same night. LoLo had never seen a man so nice-looking, and to her surprise, he was the one who came after her. Seems Bumper liked short women.

  LoLo confessed her profession to him. Bumper was taken aback at first, but he genuinely liked her. They became a couple, LoLo dealing and Bumper hustling but never working for her.

  They stayed together for a year before LoLo offered to take care of him so he could stop hustling. She would give him money, and all he had to do was be her refuge, comfort, and sex partner. LoLo didn't believe in love. Love made women weak. All she needed was a man, some good sex, and a safe house.

  Bumper didn't like the idea of being kept by a woman, but the money would give him the freedom he wa
nted. He took the deal. LoLo knew he had other women, but Bumper was cautious and never threw them in her face. Once LoLo had popped over in the middle of the night, and he'd put one out of his bed. It was a great relationship.

  There was a knock at the door. Bumper quickly reached under his bed and pulled out a little black Smith & Wesson .380. He went to the door and looked out. He smiled and let Yolanda in. “Hey, motormouth,” Bumper said.

  Yolanda walked in without a word and went to the bedroom. Bumper followed her.

  “So,” said LoLo, “what happened to my Girls? They okay?”

  Yolanda shook her head. “Prosecutor set some big-ass bail.”

  “How much?” said LoLo.

  “Fifty thousand each. And Marly's gone. No bail.”

  “Dammit!” said LoLo. “I knew Marly was gone. I ain't got that kind of cash for the twins. I need them.” She started to get out of the bed.

  “You got to rest first,” said Bumper. He made her lie back down. He took the glass of juice from her and set it on an end table.

  “We got other people,” said Yolanda.

  “These girls are shooters,” said LoLo. “Most of the others are too weak to even lift up a damn gun. I'm gonna need hard women to get Cane. He'll be coming after me for sure. I know him. Just when you think he's not going to do anything--”

  There was another knock at the door. Yolanda and LoLo grew quiet. Yolanda pulled out her gun. Bumper got up with his .380 and put his fingers to his lips. “Shh,” he said.

  He went to the door and looked through the peephole. He put his gun to the door and said, “What you want, girl?”

  “Let me in, Bumper,” said Ramona on the other side of the door. “It's me, Ramona.”

  “She ain't here,” said Bumper. “Ain't seen her in a while.”

  “Let her in,” said LoLo. She had gotten out of the bed and was standing in the doorway. “Go on,” she said.

  Bumper opened the door but kept his gun out. Ramona and Jesse walked in looking like death warmed over. Ramona went to LoLo and hugged her.

  “Damn, you hard to find, girl,” said Ramona.

  “Yeah,” said LoLo, glad to see her. “You know Bumper?”