Citycide

by Gary Hardwick

  The city council chief was acting Mayor and already others were throwing their hats into the ring. Danny was happy when heard Tony Hill was going to be a candidate for the job.

  Erik was not with the moving team. He was busy at his job as the new head of the SCU. Tony had offered it to Danny but Danny had refused. He was no boss and Erik was a lot better at the political thing. Danny did accept a raise. After all, he was going to be a father.

  LaMaris had explained the mystery of Quinten Forrester’s kidnapping and torture by Rakeif Simms. After getting out of the hospital, she was put in county jail where she told an inmate that Quinten and another man had been suspected of stealing a large quantity of marijuana from Rakeif. Rakeif’s dislike of gay men didn’t help the matter.

  The inmate had told the story to her attorney who tried to get his client a lighter sentence for the information. It didn’t work but Danny was happy to have that question answered.

  “Man, they treat the police a lot better these days,” said Robert Cavanaugh who entered the kitchen carrying a plant. “All we got were citations. No one ever gave me a damned house.”

  After Patterson was gone, the acting Mayor decided to change the city’s refurbished house program to get cops to stay in the city. Danny was now the proud owner of a brand new home in Detroit, free of charge.

  Joyce Watson would never get the free house she had tried to blackmail from Don Przybylski.

  Danny had used Rashindah’s money and jewelry to buy two big marble headstones, one for Rashindah and the other for Quinten. On Rashindah’s he’d told them to carve “The Wise Of Heart.” He’d given the leftover money to the Farmer to help him feed the community.

  “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” said Danny referring to the house.

  “Shit, I need to shoot a few people,” said Marshall. “If this is what it gets you.”

  “What’s all the talking about?” said Vinny, “More moving, chop chop!”

  “Not me,” said Robert. “I’m old.”

  Marshall and Chemin got back to work. Danny lingered by his father. His baby would now be living in a neighborhood that would be filled with police, a very safe place for a kid to grow up. They were already calling it Blue Estates.

  “It’s a boy, you know,” said Robert. “I can feel it.”

  “Vinny says the opposite,” said Danny. “I kinda don’t care anymore.”

  “I love you, you know,” said Robert suddenly.

  Danny looked over with surprise. He could not remember his father ever saying those words. He put an arm around the old man.

  I love you too,” Dad. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

  “No, I just need a drink,” Robert laughed.

  Danny joined the others and kept the move going. It was another family affair and this time, what brought them together was good.

  He had been wrong about Detroit, he thought. It had not been killed. There were just sections which were dormant. But like the farmers, they could till the city’s tainted soil; remove its rotted roots and the debris of history. If a man like him could be a father, then anything was truly possible.

  He was hopeful then for all things, but especially the harvest to come.

  EPILOGUE

  black irish

  October.

  Robert Marcus Cavanaugh clings to his mother. His eyes are still closed and so he cannot see the big crowd of people in the room.

  The little hospital room is filled with his mother’s family and police. The men are high-fiving and passing around cigars and the women pretend to be disappointed that he is a boy.

  He is a medium brown color and has whips of dark hair. He is a big baby, some eight pounds and change, that makes the men use words like power forward and fullback.

  The baby does not know he is named for his two grandfathers, who laugh loudly and tell stories of their sons’ births.

  He is passed first to his paternal grandfather who sings terribly an old Irish song that no one else seems to know but for which they applaud happily.

  Then he goes to his mother’s parents, her family and the cops in the crowded room while someone noisily takes pictures.

  Finally, the baby comes to his father’s arms. He has watched the scene and fights strong emotion, not knowing if he’s happier for his own father or himself.

  And then young Robert Marcus Cavanaugh finally opens his wrinkled lids, revealing to his father a perfect pair of hazel eyes.