The Mike Black Saga; MOB (27 page)

Kirkland and Richards stood up. “Thank you for coming in and talking with us, Miss Lawrence,” Kirkland said. Me’shelle didn’t respond. She was expecting and apology, but since none seemed forthcoming, she started for the door. “Detective Richards will show out,” Kirkland said and left the room.

While Detective Richards escorted Me’shelle out of the building, he offered up a half-baked apology, which he served cold. He found no takers. Me’shelle walked silently out of the building and got in her car. She understood now why Travis didn’t want to go with her to the police station to face the detective. She realized, after the treatment she received, that even though Travis didn’t know Bruce, the detective would have tried to push a connection down his throat.

That thought made her feel a little better as she drove herself home. What was still troubling was the fact that Travis not only was a robber, but he had lied to her about it all these months. Maybe if he was honest about it from the start—
Get real. If he had told you what he was doing, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

She thought about something Travis had told her over dinner when he first started the programming job.

“This is the first programming job that I’ve had in two years.”

“How have you survived for two years without a job?” Me’shelle asked.

“Sometimes real life leads you to make real hard choices that you normally wouldn’t.” But then the waiter arrived and broke into an elaborate description of the desserts, and she never got around to asking Travis what he meant by that. Now she wished that she had.

What’s really bothering you?
She asked herself.
Is it what he does for money, or that he didn’t tell you?

She didn’t know, but the question had to be answered.

The day had come for Brandy to be released from the hospital. Although she was still disoriented, and still plagued by uncontrollable trembling and feelings of coldness all over her body, Brandy’s condition had improved. She began to communicate again.

Me’shelle and her aunt arrived at the hospital early. However, when they walked into Brandy’s room, they found Detective Richards, the rape counselor, and a police sketch artist in the room with her.

“What in God’s name is going on here?” Juanita demanded to know as soon as they came through the door.

Brandy looked up at them and smiled. Detective Richards stood up and approached the three ladies.

“Brandy, I needed to speak with your family for a minute. Is that okay?” Judith, the rape counselor, asked.

Brandy nodded and glanced in Me’shelle’s direction. Seeing Me’shelle made her feel better. Brandy spoke slowly. “Can Aunt Me'shelle stay with me, Judith?”

“Well, Brandy, honey, I really need to speak with Me’shelle too. Is that going to be okay? I promise that it won’t take long and we’ll be right outside. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” Brandy said softly. Judith stood up and started for the door.

“Judith,” Brandy called.

Judith turned around. “Yes, Brandy?”

Brandy pointed at the sketch artist. “I don’t want to be alone with him.” The sketch artist got up immediately and walked out of the room.

“Does he frighten you?” Judith asked.

“No. I just don’t want to be alone with him.”

“He’s gone now, Brandy. But we need his help to catch the men who did this to you.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll stay in here with her,” Miranda offered. “I won’t do anything to upset her.”

Judith looked at Detective Richards and he nodded. Miranda sat down next to Brandy as the others left the room.

Once outside the room, Detective Richards explained that when Judith called and told him that Brandy could answer questions, he grabbed the sketch artist and came right down.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t call you, but I kind of assumed one of you would be here,” Richards said.

“That doesn’t matter,” Juanita said.

“That girl is a minor. One of us should have been here before you asked her anything,” Me’shelle added.

“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have, but you haven’t exactly been cooperative, Ms. Lawrence. I thought it best that we go ahead. I haven’t asked any questions. I just listened while she told Judith what happened to her.”

“Me’shelle,” Judith said, “I want to assure you that Brandy has been doing fine with this. She’s been able to tell us what happened that night, and was doing very well with the sketch artist.

“Brandy told me that she felt dirty and ashamed. She may have not have been able to be as open if her family was in the room while that was going on.”

“But Brandy wants me to stay with her,” Me’shelle protested.

“I see that, and since she’s already told us all what happened, I’m willing to let you go back in there with us. But just you. And only if you promise to keep quiet and let us do our jobs.”

“You act like I don’t want you to catch the people who did this to her.” Me’shelle was angry at the thought and started to say something else, but then she caught herself. The detective was right. What was important here was for them to get what they needed from Brandy, not her trampled feelings.

“I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression, Detective Richards. I want you to catch them, and I won’t do anything to interfere with that. But before we go back in there can you please tell me what happened?”

“Your niece was able to tell us that there were four of them, and that she was listening when one of them killed the fourth man. She heard the men yelling at your brother about money he owed them. She hid in the closet under a pile of clothes, but they found her while they were looking for the money. After they found her, your brother told them where to find his money. She said after they got the money, they raped her and her mother while your brother watched, just to teach him a lesson.”

“Oh my,” Juanita said. Me’shelle shed tears for her brother.

“She got away when she hit one in the head with a lamp, and her father told her to run. She doesn’t know what happened after that.”

After hearing the story, Me’shelle wiped her eyes and followed them back into Brandy’s room. While she sat there listening to Brandy bravely describing her attackers, Me’shelle’s mind replayed the detective’s words.
She heard the men yelling at your brother about money he owed them.
Bruce said that if they didn’t get them their money they would kill him. She should have given him the money.

Me’shelle looked at Brandy.
I’m sorry. If I had just came off my high horse and gave Bruce the money, none of this would have happened.

As the tears began to flow from Me’shelle’s eyes, Brandy looked over at her. “Don’t cry, Aunt Me'shelle,” Brandy said to her. “It’s gonna be all right.”

Me’shelle quickly tried to wipe away her tears. She knew that she had to be strong for Brandy. She would have to put aside her feelings of guilt for the time being.

The next couple of day weren’t easy for Brandy, as they were still marked by feelings of coldness and uncontrollable trembling. Brandy complained of an overall soreness of her body and had difficulty walking at times due to the pain she felt. She still had some bruises on her upper body, and she often complained of sudden, sharp pains in her vagina. There were times when Brandy would cry uncontrollably. She had headaches on a daily basis, which she attributed to having been hit in the head repeatedly during the assault. 

She didn’t talk very much, and would spend most of her day lying across her bed. One afternoon, some of her friends caught the train out to Queens to see Brandy, but she refused to see or talk to anyone. Her family did everything they could to make her comfortable and safe. One of them stayed in the room with her at all times.

She didn’t sleep much, and when she did, she would be awoken frequently by nightmares about the assault. “I don’t like goin’ to sleep, Me’shelle,” Brandy told her.

“How come?”

“Every time I sleep, it all happens again. And I wake up feeling all dirty and nasty.”

“Is that why you take so many showers?”

Brandy nodded. “Down there especially.”

“It’s all right, Brandy. I’m not gonna ever let anything happen to you again.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Aunt Me’shelle. There’s nothing left for me anyway. They made me a dirty ho,” Brandy said and began to cry. “Nobody will ever want me for anything.”

“Don’t say that,” Me’shelle pleaded.

“I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. There’s nothing left for me.”

Me’shelle put her arms around Brandy and they cried together.

“I’m scared, Me’shelle. I’m scared all the time.”

“You don’t have to be scared, Brandy. We’ll be here to protect you.”

“My daddy used to say the same thing, and when those men came, all he could do was lay on the floor and watch.”

Me’shelle had no answer, nothing she could say to reassure her that she would be safe.

“Those men are gonna come after me because I told the police what they looked like. And when they do, there’s nothing that you can do to stop them.”

Me’shelle continued to sit with Brandy. She knew that she had to do something to make this right. She stayed in the room until Brandy could no longer fight off sleep.

Downstairs in the living room, Juanita and Miranda sat watching television. Me’shelle joined them.

“Is she asleep?” Miranda asked.

“Yes,” Me’shelle answered as she sat down on the couch next to Miranda. “But she told me that she’s afraid to go to sleep because she’s having nightmares about what happened.”

“I’ll go sit with her,” Juanita said. She got up from her chair. “One of us should be there if she wakes up,” she said before she went up to Brandy’s room.

“You should get some sleep, too, Me’shelle. You’ve been up just as long as she has.”

“I’m all right, Aunt Miranda.”

“What’s bothering you, Me’shelle?”

“Really, Aunt Miranda, I’m fine.”

“I’ve seen that look before, Me’shelle Lawrence. Tell me what’s on your mind,” Miranda insisted. Me’shelle rested her head on her aunt’s shoulder.

“I have so much on my mind I don’t know where to start. But what it is, is that it’s my fault that this happened.”

“What you talkin’ about, Me’shelle? How is this your fault?”

“Bruce told me that somebody was gonna kill him because of the money he owed them. He asked me for the money and I didn’t give it to him. I had the money and I could have given it to him. If I had just given him the money, none of this would have happened.”

“My God, child. This is not your fault. I don’t mean to be speaking ill of the dead, but the truth is that Bruce was a drug addict. He’s got money and stolen from all of us to buy drugs. Natalie was selling her body for drugs. There’s no telling what else they were doing.”

“I know all that, but—”

“But nothing, Me’shelle. You listen to me. Suppose you gave Bruce the money and they killed him anyway. What then? Would you still blame yourself? ’Cause that’s what would have happened. That life he was living was gonna kill him or get him killed. You know that, Me’shelle. You used to tell Bruce that all the time.”

“I know what you’re saying, and maybe you’re right, but that’s how I feel, and I got to do something about it.”

“Like what?”

“Even if you’re right about Bruce,” Me’shelle said, ignoring Miranda's question, “I still could have done more to get Brandy away from there.”

“That’s a cross we are all gonna have to bear,” Miranda said sadly.

“When Bruce said they were in Columbia and Brandy wasn’t in school, I should have gotten in my car and went to get her.”

“We all could have done a lot more for Brandy. All we can do now is be there for her now,” Miranda said.

“I was too busy,” Me’shelle went on. “I was too busy going out with Travis and eating in fancy restaurants to worry about Brandy and what was best for her.”

Seeing where this was going, Miranda said, “I don’t mean to change the subject, but I do notice that you haven’t mentioned his name, and I don’t remember you talking to him in a while.”

Me’shelle laughed a little. “That’s another thing.”

“See, I know my little girl. I knew there was something else. What’s bothering you?”

“I found out something bad about Travis,” Me’shelle said.

“Really? He seemed like a nice young man. What did you find out about him?”

“I’ll just say he wasn’t completely honest with me.”

“How do you feel about him, Me’shelle?”

“Well, I—”

“Do you love him, Me’shelle?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Does he love you?”

“He says he does.”

“Do you believe him when he says he loves you?”

“Yes, I believe he loves me.”

“Me’shelle, what you are going to have to decide is whether whatever you found out about him is so bad that it changes your feelings for him,” Miranda offered. “And I don’t think it does, ’cause if it did, you wouldn’t be going through no changes about it.”