Saturday, June 11th, 9:05 A.M.
I just got home after a long exhaustive night. We did not have fun. I’m not referring to the fact that Matthew
and Aaron came with us. This was a whole
different kind of bad.
Our night began with the party held at the cultural
center. This actually was fun,
remarkable given the kind of stuffy people who run it. There weren’t any kind of games or activities
or any kind of formal structure behind this party. Just an open dance floor, food, drinks, and
music, that’s all. Unlike the music at
my birthday party, this music was actually good. I was shocked to hear the DJ play Moral
Threat, yet alone Cryptochild, Klavier, and Hypodermic.
The party at the cultural center ended at about
nine. The party didn’t end because we
wanted it to end, they kicked us out so they could clean up and get the place
ready for a wedding in the morning.
Wanda had the idea of going to see/bother Sparra at work. So, the six of us, Jay, Matthew, Aaron,
Delany, Wanda, and I started walking over there. We were about halfway there when Jay saw
something in an alley we passed. It was
one kind of old looking opfer being attacked by a trio of young looking
verbrechers. The girls wanted to keep on
going the way we were, but Aaron wanted to break up the situation. The boys, me included, thought this was a
good idea because we’re young and there was four of us and we stupidly think
we’re invincible.
The four of us fine opfers boys were walking down
the alley, just about to get to the verbrecher trio, when the lights on one of
the cars in the alley started flashing.
These weren’t the flashing lights you see from a car alarm going off,
these were the red and blue lights of a cop car. A cop car that had been sitting there the
entire time the opfer was being attacked.
The cop came out of the car with his gun drawn and
ordered the four of us to stop and put our hands in the air. We did.
When he got to us, the officer shoved us against the wall and ordered us
not to move. We didn’t. The officer then called for backup against
what he called “an unruly violent street gang.” The backup the police officer called for
showed up remarkably quickly, just in time to see the three verbrecher men run
away from the scene. None of the police
officers at the scene made any effort to go after the verbrecher men. Instead, they spent about half an hour
harassing Delany and Wanda while they roughed up the rest of us, including the
victim. Eventually they cuffed all seven
of us, including the women who weren’t involved and the bleeding victim, shoved
us in squad cars, and took us to the police station.
Once we got to the station house, we were put in
holding. We weren’t told what we were
being arrested for or what we were waiting for, we were just shoved in
there. They placed us in two separate
holding cells. Matthew, Aaron, and Jay
were placed in one cell, while Delany, Wanda, the victim, and I were placed in
the other. I don’t know why they did
this, but I don’t understand a lot of what happened. I just know that what happened is really
fucked up.
Delany spent the whole time in that holding cell
crying on my shoulder. I don’t mean that
figuratively. We sat together on the
bench/bed/cold metal slab in that concrete echochamber not knowing when or if
we were going to be released. I don’t
blame Delany for crying. I would have
cried as well, had I not been concerned for the health of the victim sitting in
the corner, motionless, with blood still dripping from his wounds. I would have consoled Delany more had I not
been handcuffed the whole time.
I don’t know how long we were in holding. I’ve tried figuring it out. As near as I can tell, the seven of us were
in holding for about eight hours. Just
long enough for a good night’s rest, if we could somehow get to sleep. At about five A.M. the guard came by,
uncuffed us, and let us out. As I walked
along down the hall, tired and hazy as shit, I heard names being called
out. First Aaron, then Jay, Wanda,
Delany, and Matthew. All these names
were called out by the person there to pick them up. The only person who arrived at the police station
to pick someone up who didn’t call out a name was my Dad. When I saw my Dad at the police station, he
looked pissed.
The silence that I experienced while I was in
holding made me angry. The silence I
experienced in the car with my Dad made me anxious. I knew my Dad was angry, I could see that on
his face. I felt as if I was looking at
a bomb who's countdown had reached zero but had not yet exploded.
"Dad, I-"
"Hato, the police told me what you did last
night. They told me you and your friends
and some homeless guy was smashing things in an alley behind a liquor
store."
"But Dad-"
"They said that you were drunk, and about to
knock over the liquor store."
"Dad, let me-"
"I don't believe them."
I did not expect my Dad to say that. "You don't?"
"No. Not
only is that not anything close to anything you've done, but my experience has
taught me that a policeman's word isn't worth shit." I did not expect my Dad to say that
either. Not only because he swore, which
he only does when he's emphasizing a point, but because of his open
cynicism. I didn't know how to continue
the conversation. Luckily, my Dad
did. "Now, you are not to tell your
mother you were in jail."
Suddenly, my joking nature came back to me. "That was jail?"
"Yes, that was jail, and you were never
there. Also, you were not arrested. If your Mom asks, you spent the night
partying with your friends, you got me?"
"Yeah."
With the lie firmly in place, my Dad kept on driving home. Just as we passed by the place where I was
arrested, I looked down at my hands and noticed something about them. "Dad, what if Mom notices that marks
from the handcuffs I wore all night?"
Dad looked at my hands then thought for a
moment. "Just tell her your and
Delany were getting kinky. She'll
understand."
I don't want to think about why my Mom would
understand. I haven't run into her yet
and I'm not really looking forward to it.
Then again, any crap I get from her will be far easier to deal with than
the cops. I think.
Later.
Hato Shurtleff
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment