by Margaret Kay
Then he watched them enter the back door to a convenience store. He knew the owner, a nice old man by the name of Charlie Washington, did not allow customers to come through the back. JD and Tommy could not be up to anything good by going in the back door. He cursed his brother with every step he took towards that door. This wasn’t who Elias was, hanging out with drug dealers and most likely breaking and entering through the back door of a neighborhood store.
He opened the door slowly. The back room was dark. Through the black curtain that hung between this back room and the front shop area, slivers of light sliced through and lit the area just well enough to see where he was walking.
He could hear voices. He crept forward to the curtain and peered through the cracks. He couldn’t see anyone. He crossed the threshold and wove between a couple of shelves, following the voices, which had just become screams. He recognized Mr. Washington’s deep voice. “Tommy Webber, I caught you red handed this time and I’m gonna call your momma and the police! Put that money back!”
Johnson came around the end cap and saw Mr. Washington behind the counter, grabbing at money in Tommy’s hand. Tommy was on the other side of the counter, reaching over. Tommy easily overpowered the older man. He pushed him back and Mr. Washington crashed into the shelves that held the cigarettes behind the counter. Tommy was yelling obscenities at Mr. Washington.
What happened next, happened way too quickly for Johnson to react to or do anything to stop it. Mr. Washington pulled himself up from the shelf and grabbed at something under the counter. He pointed a handgun at Tommy as he strutted back over to where Elias and JD stood. Johnson saw the shocked expression on Elias’ face. He hadn’t been expecting this to be a robbery, Johnson was sure.
“Stop right there, Tommy Webber, or I’ll shoot you,” Washington yelled.
In the blink of an eye, JD pulled a gun out of the front of his pants and squeezed off a shot, which exploded the silence in the shop with a deafening bang. A split second later, a second gunshot rang out and Johnson watched Elias’ abdomen color blood red. He stumbled backward and then collapsed to the floor.
By the time Johnson reached Elias, Tommy and JD ran past him and back through the black curtain. He heard the back-door slam shut as he shook his brother. “Elias, man, open your eyes. Are you okay E? Talk to me Elias!”
Elias gurgled, his eyes twitched, and blood frothed out of his gaping mouth.
Johnson ran behind the counter and dialed 9-1-1 on the phone. At his feet, Mr. Washington was sprawled out in an expanding pool of blood. “There was a robbery with gunshots at Washington’s Mini-Mart. My brother and the owner are shot. Send the police and ambulances.”
The dispatcher took all the information. He heard sirens before he even set the receiver down. He rushed back to Elias. Elias’ unseeing eyes were open, staring straight up at the ceiling, lifeless. He put his hand on his brother’s chest. It didn’t rise or fall. “Elias, come on man!” Tears obscured his vision.
Two uniformed officers rushed through the front door. A blur followed. Somehow, Johnson communicated where Mr. Washington was. The paramedics arrived, and then the coroner. No one was transported to the hospital. Neither were alive.
He heard the cops talking. There were no cameras in the store. Johnson gave a statement to a detective. He left out the part that Elias entered the store with Tommy and JD. He claimed he and Elias entered together through the back, like they always did. The truth would break his momma’s heart even more than losing her son.
His last conversation with Elias would echo through his mind for a long time. He’d analyze what he could have done to stop this from happening. He’d cry. He’d be mad at himself. He’d be mad at his brother. He’d be mad at Tommy and JD. That night would never leave him.
Two Weeks Later
Johnson pushed the weight bar up for his twentieth rep. His arms trembled from fatigue. His back ached from where the unpadded weight bench dug into his back. He’d been in the gym for hours. Coach Bennett had let him stay in the weight room, long after school was over every day since Elias was killed. It was the only place that he felt normal. Graduation was in a few days, but Coach guaranteed him he could keep coming in and using the equipment all summer.
Home wasn’t anywhere he wanted to be. The bedroom he shared with Elias was too empty without him there. His momma and grandma cried all the time and talked about cleaning Elias’ things out of the room. His older sister, Faith, who worked as a Certified Nursing Assistant at a nursing home and lived across town with several roommates, also nurses, was at the house everyday now. She tried to help his momma with household tasks but ended up adding to the sadness in the house. His father picked up extra shifts at work and was either asleep or at work all the time.
Coach Bennett and another man approached. He sat up. He expected he would be told it was time to leave for the day.
“Hey, Johnson, how are you doing?” Coach Bennett asked.
“I’m okay, Coach.”
“This is a friend of mine, Calvin Booker,” Coach Bennett introduced.
“Hey,” Johnson acknowledged him, giving him the once over. He was a black guy who looked about the same age as Coach, in his mid to late thirties. He was about the same height as Coach but had a lot more muscle mass. His hair was shaved close to his head as Coach’s was. They could have been brothers.
“It’s nice to meet you, Johnson,” Booker said as he extended his hand.
Johnson came to his feet. He shook his hand. “Are you also a Coach, Mr. Booker?”
“I am, but it’s actually Detective Booker, PPD.”
“You’re a cop?” His eyes then flashed to Coach Bennett, gazing at him with mistrust.
“I am, but I am also a good friend of Bennett’s, just like he said. We were in the Navy together.”
“Johnson, Landon, I called Calvin to come talk with you,” Bennett said.
“Why would you do that, Coach?”
“Because you are hurting. I’ve seen you in here pushing yourself to your physical limit every day since your brother was shot. You won’t talk with me about it and you didn’t tell the police anything that would help them find those responsible.”
“That’s because I don’t know who it was,” Johnson lied.
“Johnson, Bennett tells me you are a good kid, not involved in gangs or drugs. You played sports and are graduating. You have a future, son, unlike whatever lowlifes were robbing that store when you and your brother walked in there.”
Johnson got mad and felt scared. He hadn’t told anyone that Elias was involved. That was one of the reason’s he hadn’t given up Tommy and JD. He felt tears fill his eyes.
“It’s okay, son,” Coach said, wrapping an arm around him. “We only want to help you.”
“Well you can’t,” he shot back.
“We can protect you and your family if you’re afraid they will come after you for reporting who it was,” Booker said.
“You can’t,” Johnson argued.
The two men exchanged glances. “Look, son, I understand you’re afraid,” Booker said.
“You don’t know shit!” Johnson exploded. All the anger he had felt since Elias was killed, that he hadn’t released, surged through him. “And I ain’t your damned son! I have a father and he works damn hard to support my family.”
“So, here’s the thing with criminals,” Booker said, ignoring Johnson’s outburst. “If they know you can identify them, it probably won’t matter if you tell the police who they are or not. You’re a threat to them as long as you’re alive. Murder has no statute of limitations, meaning they can be arrested and tried for the crime for as long as they live. At some point, unless you’re running with them, you are a liability and they will probably come after you, anyway.”
“I don’t run with anyone!” Johnson spat.
“Good, get angry. Get real angry,” Booker said. “Those two pieces of shit caused your brother to get killed. I’m pretty sure you can identify them beyond the descrip
tion you gave the cops of two black dudes. My question to you is why aren’t you?”
“It’s time to man-up and do the right thing for your brother,” Coach added.
Johnson didn’t realize he was crying until he looked down and saw the tears drip from his face onto his t-shirt, which was already soaked with sweat. He swiped the moisture from his cheeks and tried to stop the torrent that fell from his eyes. “Damn-it, this is just all fucked up.”
“We can help you. Come on, Johnson. I know you and I can see this is tearing you apart. Let me help you,” Coach Bennett said in a soothing voice.
He took a second and considered what he was about to do. “I’ll tell you what happened, but I won’t ever swear to it in court. I won’t ever admit I told you. If you say I did, I’ll say you are lying.”
Both men nodded. “That’s a start. It’ll at least give us a direction and I just might be able to get proof on them a different way,” Booker said.
“Elias didn’t go into that store with me. I lied when I said that he and I went in together. It would kill my momma if she knew Elias went into the store with those two guys, but he never knew they were going to rob old man Washington. I followed them to see what they were up to. I saw Elias’ face when it went down, and I know he was surprised by it. It all happened so fast. Tommy stuck his hand in the cash register and pushed Mr. Washington. Mr. Washington pulled a gun from under the counter first and told Tommy to give him his money back. Without any warning, JD pulled a gun, and he shot Mr. Washington. And Mr. Washington’s gun went off, and the bullet hit Elias instead of JD. Elias was just standing there. He didn’t steal anything. He didn’t have no gun.”
Coach Bennett wrapped him in an embrace. “Shit, Johnson, I’m so sorry.” He held Landon Johnson’s trembling body as he sobbed.
After a few minutes, Booker placed a hand on Johnson’s shoulder. “I need full names and some more info.”
Johnson swiped at the moisture on his cheeks again as he faced the detective. “Tommy Webber, a guy in the neighborhood. He quit school last year. And JD. I don’t know his last name. I don’t know where he lives, but he runs with the Crips. Tommy has always had drugs to sell, mostly weed, speed, coke for those who can afford it. But JD started bringing in crystal meth, heroin, stronger and more dangerous shit.”
“Why were you following them? What happened that night to make all this go down?” Coach Bennett asked.
Johnson told them everything that went down Friday and Saturday night up until the moment Elias was shot.
“Has either of those guys contacted you or threatened you since that night?” Booker asked.
“Yeah, Tommy came to Elias’ funeral with some of Elias’ other friends.”
“Did he warn you not to identify them?” Booker asked.
“He got me alone and said he knew I wouldn’t say anything and implicate Elias. It was a warning.”
“And what about JD?” Booker asked.
“I haven’t seen him, but I haven’t been out much either. I haven’t hung out with any of the guys Elias and I usually hang out with.”
“Give me a few more locations where you know Tommy and JD hang out and sell drugs. If we can pop Tommy on a narcotics charge, we might just get him to flip on JD. Or even better, if we can get JD, he might still have the gun on him, and ballistics can match it to the gun that killed Charlie Washington.”
Johnson gave the cop all the information he had.
“You did the right thing,” Coach said.
“I’ll keep you and your brother out of it,” Booker promised. “Thank you for telling me everything.”
“That took a lot of courage,” Bennett said. “I’m proud of you, Johnson.”
“You’re a good man,” Booker seconded. “You graduate in a few days. What’s next for you?”
Johnson shrugged. “I guess I need to try to find a job.”
“Are you going to go to school?” Booker asked.
“You mean like college?”
Booker nodded.
“No, man, college isn’t for me, and my family don’t have the money for that.”
“There is community college, which isn’t too expensive, and they have loans and grants you would qualify for,” Booker said.
“That’s what I told him,” Bennett echoed.
“I don’t know what I would study, and I don’t want to take loans and have to pay money back.”
“Have you thought about law enforcement?” Booker asked. “You could become a cop when you are twenty-one, and it would help if you took some classes at a community college.”
Johnson laughed. “Me? A cop?”
Coach Bennett’s eyes narrowed on him. “Yes. You would make a great cop, Johnson. You’re fair and level-headed. I’ve seen you diffuse crap with your teammates on the football field.”
“Have you thought about joining the military?” Booker pushed. “Bennett and I served together in the Navy. We were Master at Arms, the equivalent of cops.”
“The military, no man,” Johnson insisted.
“Think about it,” Bennett said.
“Yeah, I don’t think so, man,” Johnson said. “Are we done here?”
“Yes, thank you, Johnson,” Booker offered his hand. Johnson shook it. “If I need to talk to you again, I’ll get in touch with Bennett.”
One Week After Graduation
When Johnson got to the gym, he found Booker there with Bennett. Bennett called him into his office and shut the door.
“We picked up JD last night in a narcotics sting. Got him for selling,” Booker said. “He had the gun on him. We rushed ballistics this morning, and it was a match to the gun that killed Charlie Washington.”
“No shit,” Johnson remarked. “I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to still be carrying that gun.”
“His real name is JaShaun Davis. The drug unit says he’s a known member of the Crips.”
“Did he give up Tommy or say anything about Elias?” Johnson asked.
“No, he’s claiming he bought the gun just last week. He isn’t admitting to anything. I don’t expect he will.”
“What about Tommy?” Johnson asked.
“The drug unit was watching him. That Friday night of Memorial Day weekend that you told me the police moved in, Tommy Webber was the target. He’s laid low the last few weeks, probably because of the robbery and shooting. We’ll stay on him and pick him up as soon as we see him doing something illegal.”
Johnson took a step towards the door. “Thanks for the update.”
“Johnson, there’s one more thing,” Bennett said. “Have you given any more thought to joining the military?”
“What? No, why would you think I would? I never said I wanted any part of that shit.”
“It’s just that I think it would be good for you. You’re not a gangbanger, never been in trouble that I know of. It could be an excellent opportunity for you. If you go in as an MA, a cop like Booker and I did, you could get hired on at just about any police department you want. It wouldn’t have to be Pittsburgh. All you’d have to serve is four years and you’d be set for life.”
“You’ll see what life is like in different cities, different states, even in other countries,” Booker chimed in. “Johnson, I’ve seen way too many young men like you get swallowed up by the streets. And I can’t guarantee you that JD or any of his crew will never come after you.”
“So, I’m supposed to run like a pussy?”
Both the men laughed.
“Johnson, let me tell you something about you that was damn apparent to me when you told me about what happened that weekend your brother was shot.”
Johnson folded his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.
“You have heart. You know the difference between right and wrong and you stick up for people who need help, like you did that night for Shereese and Fern. You acted when others probably would not have. And when you tried to protect your brother, you put yourself in potential danger by following those
guys your brother was with. You had a gut instinct trouble was coming, and you were right. Street smarts and instincts are something else not everyone has and people that do have them combined with acting on scenarios where something wrong is going on makes a person a damn good cop.”
“How did you remember that thing about Shereese and Fern? You didn’t write nothing down when I told you.”