It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining (15 page)

BOOK: It's All About The Moon When The Sun Ain't Shining
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Chapter Eighteen
I
n the chaos of the moment, I stood frozen and unsure of what to do next. And then above the haze of my uncertainty, I heard the familiar sound of Omenita's voice cutting angrily through the madness.
“Gerald!” she screamed forcefully, “what's wrong with you? Put that goddamn thing up before somebody gets hurt!”
I saw Gerald look at her, then back at me.
“Not until this bastard turns you loose,” he said.
I hesitated, looking for a moment to rush him. I saw an empty beer bottle on the ground behind him. Yes, when he looked away, I would grab the bottle and even the odds. I was looking at the bottle when I heard Omenita's voice again.
“Goddammit, Maurice! Do what he say!”
I released my grip and eased my hand away, and when I did, Omenita stepped to the side. But Gerald did not lower the gun. Instead, he kept it pointed at me—no, not at me, at my head.
“Why don't you put that gun down,” I said, “and come at me like a man?”
“And why don't you step aside?” he said. “So me and the lady can leave.”
“I need to talk to her,” I said.
“How many times she have to tell you? She don't want to talk to you.”
There was silence, and for a moment I stared at him without a thought or an image in my mind. There was just the pain of seeing Omenita standing next to him and hearing him speak for her against me. I looked at the bottle again. Oh, if I could just grab it and swing it with all my might and blot him out, then find the words with which I could utter to make her mine again. I was contemplating the bottle when I heard footsteps on the pavement behind me. I turned and I saw Danielle walking toward me; her eyes were wide, her gait accelerated, her demeanor alarmed. Oh, I did not need this. Not here. Not now.
I turned back toward Gerald and Omenita. And just as I thought they were no longer watching me; they were watching her. God! My whole world was crashing right here before my very eyes. I looked at the bottle again. But before I could move, I felt Danielle grab my arm and pull.
“Come on,” she said. “Let's go.”
“Not before I talk to Omenita,” I said.
“Not here,” Danielle said. “Not like this.”
I saw Omenita look at Danielle.
“And who in the hell you suppose to be?” she asked.
“Ain't no need to talk to her like that,” I said.
“What!” Omenita said.
“It's okay,” Danielle said, “Let's just go.”
I saw Omenita frown. “Y'all together?” she asked.
I didn't comment, neither did Danielle.
“Well ain't this a bitch?” I heard Omenita say.
“Why don't you watch your mouth?” I said.
“And why don't you go on about your business?” Gerald said. “She don't want to be bothered with you.”
“Was I talking to you?” I asked.
I looked at him; he had dropped the gun next to his side and I considered rushing him, but I did not. He was too far away, and it was too dangerous.
“Maurice,” Danielle said, “you don't need this.”
“Don't need what?” Omenita said.
“This,” Danielle said.
“You mean me?” Omenita said. “You trying to rag on me?”
“Miss, I don't even know you,” Danielle said.
“And let's just keep it that way,” Omenita said.
“This is crazy,” Danielle said.
In the distance, I heard a siren wail. I turned and looked. I saw a police car whip into the parking lot and sped toward us. And I saw the white man with the cell phone extend his hand and point in our direction, and when he did, I thought about leaving. But fear rendered me immobile. I looked at Gerald and I saw him reach back and tuck the gun in the waist of his pants. The squad car pulled up next to us and stopped. The door swung open and an officer stepped out.
“What's going on, here?” he asked.
I looked at the officer. He was a big man. I would guess he was six foot two or six foot three, and close to two hundred forty pounds. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties. He was clean shaven and his short blond hair was neatly cropped and partially hidden under his policeman's hat. He was dressed in the standard blue uniform of his office, only now he was wearing a heavy blue jacket and a pair of thick black gloves.
“Nothing, officer,” I said.
He looked at me, confused.
“Who called the police?”
“I did,” the white man with the cell phone told him. I turned and looked at him. He was a short, stocky fellow with long, stringy hair. I had never seen him before.
“What's the problem?” the officer asked.
“Those two,” he said pointing at us, “were causing a disturbance.”
“Hello, Jeff,” Danielle interrupted before the stranger could continue. I saw the officer look at Danielle, then frown.
“Miss Davenport?” he said.
Danielle smiled and the officer removed his hat.
“Afternoon, ma'am,” he said, then nodded.
She nodded, then smiled again.
“How's the judge?” the officer asked her.
“He's fine,” she said.
“And your mother?”
“She's fine as well.”
“Please tell them I send my best.”
“I will,” she said.
I saw the officer look at us, then back at her.
“Well,” he said, “what's going on here?”
He was speaking to Danielle, but I answered.
“Just a misunderstanding,” I said.
The officer turned his head and looked at me.
“And who are you?” he asked.
“He's a friend of the family,” Danielle answered for me.
“Your family?” the officer asked, confused.
“Yes,” Danielle said. “He's Miss Audrey's son.”
The stranger glanced at me then at the officer.
“Well, he sure wasn't acting very friendly a minute ago,” he said.
“Now there's no need to blow this thing out of proportion,” Danielle said. “This was just a little disagreement between friends. Pure and simple.”
“A misunderstanding,” the officer said.
“Yes,” she said. “Nothing more.”
I saw the officer smile and nod, then place his hat back atop his head. For him the matter was settled. He started to turn away but before he could the stranger spoke again.
“He had a gun,” the stranger said. “Does that sound like a little misunderstanding to you?”
The officer looked at the stranger, wide-eyed.
“Who had a gun?”
“Him,” the stranger said, pointing at Gerald.
The officer turned toward Gerald and their eyes met.
“Move against the car!” The officer issued an order.
Gerald complied and when he did, the officer eased forward.
“Face the vehicle and place your hands on the hood.”
“Yes, sir,” Gerald said coyly then did as he was told.
“Where's the weapon?” the officer asked.
“In my pants,” Gerald told him.
The officer eased the gun from Gerald's waist, then removed the clip and placed the gun on the ground.
“Any more weapons on you?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Gerald said, still smiling. “That's it.”
“You know it's illegal to carry a concealed weapon in this state, don't you?” the officer asked.
“I have a permit,” Gerald said.
“You from around here?” the officer asked.
“Grew up here,” he said. “I live in Texas now. Dallas, Texas.”
“Why are you carrying a weapon?”
“Because of my job.”
“And what do you do?”
“I'm head of security.”
“For who?”
“The mayor.”
“You're a police officer?”
“That's right.”
“Why didn't you say so?”
“You didn't ask,” he said.
“Did you draw this weapon?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Just protecting the young lady,” he said.
“What lady?” the officer asked.
“Her,” Gerald said, pointing to Omenita. “He attacked her.”
“He's lying,” I said.
I saw the officer look at her.
“Ma'am, are you hurt?”
Omenita began to cry but didn't answer.
“Did he attack you?” the officer asked.
“My God, Jeff,” Danielle said. “He didn't attack her. She's his girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Omenita said.
I looked at Omenita hard.
“There's no need for this,” Danielle said. “No need at all.”
“I don't care if he is an officer,” the stranger said. “He shouldn't be brandishing a gun in public. Someone could get hurt. My God, man, there were a bunch of innocent people out here.”
“Tell me what you saw,” the officer said.
“Well, I was standing over by the restaurant when I saw this man here.” He paused and pointed at me. “Grab that young lady by the arm.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “I—”
“Let him finish,” the officer said.
“And I saw that man over there—” he paused and pointed at Gerald—“pull a gun and that's when I called the police.”
I saw the officer look at Gerald, then at Omenita.
“Ma'am, did he touch you?”
She nodded but did not speak.
“Do you want to press charges?”
“Charges!” I said.
“That's right,” he said. “Charges.”
He waited, but she didn't say anything.
“This is ridiculous,” Danielle said. “He didn't attack her.”
“I'm sorry, Miss Davenport,” the officer said, “but I have two witnesses here who say that he did.”
“They're lying,” I said again.
“I just want him to leave me alone,” Omenita said.
“What about him?” I asked, looking at Gerald. “Officer or not, he doesn't have the right to go around pulling guns on innocent people.”
“Shouldn't of attacked her,” Gerald said.
“I didn't attack her,” I said. “And you know it.”
“Both of you need to be quiet,” the officer said.
“I just want to go back to work,” Omenita said, raising her gloved hands to her face and gently dabbing her tearing eyes.
“Omenita,” I said. “Baby, we need to talk.”
“You need to leave me alone,” she said.
I saw Gerald look at the officer.
“See,” he said. “He's still harassing her.”
“I don't know what this is all about,” the officer said, “but it needs to end right here. Does everybody understand that?”
“I just want to go back to work,” Omenita said again.
“Go ahead,” the officer said.
“Me too,” Gerald said.
“You all together?”
“Yes, sir,” he said “We are.”
Gerald turned to leave, then stopped.
“May I have my weapon?”
The officer handed him the gun.
“Now, I don't want any more trouble out of you,” he said. “You hear?”
“Yes, sir,” Gerald said. “I hear you.”
“I watched the two of them walk away. And when I saw Omenita get into the car with Gerald, I felt my heart sink.
“That goes for you too,” the officer said.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He turned to Danielle.
“I'll be seeing you, Miss Davenport.”
“Thank you, Jeff,” she said. “Take care of yourself.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said. “I will.”

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