Ghetto Girls Too. Anthony Whyte

      “The nerve of those fucking cops. They just jealous, that’s all,” Eric said as the other officers slowly filed out.

       FIVE

      The commotion had caused nearly all of the officers to leave their posts to take a look. Now as they all walked out, their mumbling was constant as they shambled down the stairs admiring the artwork on the wall.

      “You believe him?” Hall asked his partner as they made their way downstairs.

      “No, not one word. What about you?” Kowalski asked and turned to look at Hall.

      “Everything he said after his name was a damn lie. I hate these hip hop rich kids,” Hall opined.

      “I know for a fact that he’s more R&B, my man,” Kowalski corrected.

      “I guess that makes a difference, huh?”

      “You goddamn right, buddy. It does make a big difference.”

      “Explain why.”

      “It means we can’t request back up from the hip hop guys.”

      “I wasn’t aware there were hip hop police,” Hall was staring at Kowalski as if it was all a joke.

      “I didn’t say hip hop police.”

      “I meant cops. Squad or cop, I didn′t know such a thing existed in the department.”

      “It goes to show you don’t know everything, do you, sergeant? They’re like the Keystone cops or something like that, only they specialize in cases involving the brothers.”

      “You shitting me. Keystone? Never heard of them.” Hall threw a glance at some uniformed officers.

      “No, not them. I’m talking about us, Kowalski and Hall. You and I need to work together as a team. That’s very important to the overall success of our mission as officers of the law.” Kowalski knew he made sense. He had a nose for the investigation. Young, white, and hip, Kowalski was destined to be a cop. His father and his father before were. That’s how the story goes. More importantly they were all heroes of one kind or the other. For Kowalski, failure at busting this or any other case wide open was not an option. Kowalski was primed and ready to take down his number one suspect. The only thing was that his partner was a respected black sergeant of detectives who may object to some of Kowalski’s tactics in achieving the goal. He wanted to make sure. The young detective took jabs at the older man’s chin.

      “Yeah, Kowalski and Hall, we should be the Starsky and Hutch of this division,” chuckled Kowalski.

      “Man, I’m just too old and way too cool to have this conversation with you. Talk to your kids, they’ll explain.”

      “How many times must I tell you? I have none.”

      “What’re you waiting for? You need to make some then.”

      “Then maybe I could start understanding black folks a little better. Cuz every white kid from around the way knows hip hop and R&B are not the same,” Kowalski mocked.

      “Hey, easy with that racial bullshit.”

      “Okay, pops, I gotcha. Now let’s go find ourselves some credible witnesses.”

      “Maybe our survivor will be the man.”

      Both detectives walked to where Lil’ Long lay. They watched as paramedics struggled desperately to staunch the blood that dripped like water from a leaky faucet. The paramedics worked feverishly with bandages in their attempt to cover quarter sized bullet holes in Lil’ Long’s body. Hall frowned and turned away while Kowalski’s eyes followed his every convulsion.

      “Let’s do this quickly. He’s losing a lot of blood,” a paramedic yelled.

      “He’s going into shock.”

      “Will he make it?” Kowalski asked

      “We’re gonna have to move fast if he’s gonna live. We’ve got to get him to a hospital right away.”

      “Wait a minute. I’m gonna help. I’ll ride shotgun,” Detective Kowalski said to Hall.

      “What are you thinking of doing?”

      “Provide them with an escort. As soon as this sonofabitch regains consciousness, I wanna be there like Johnny-on-the-spot.”

      “You get an A plus for effort.”

      “No, we get pay raises and promotions after we crack this wide open. That person on the gurney may be our only real witness. So whaddya say we give the paramedics some help to the hospital, huh?”

      “What do you suggest we do, open a lane?” Hall asked resigned.

      “You catch on real fast for an older officer.” Kowalski cranked the engine and was off in front of the paramedics.

      “What’re they doing?” the paramedic driving asked immediately paying attention to the route.

      “They’re guiding us to the hospital only used by officers,” the other replied.

      “I guess they really want this one to live, huh?”

      “I guess. Turn on the sirens.”

      Wailing ambulance sirens cut through evening rush hour. Traffic flowed thick on the highway to the hospital. Even with the additional sirens of the lead detective’s car, Lil’ Long’s journey to the hospital was going to be perilous.

      The emergency vehicle wound in and out of lanes trying to find a clear path to the hospital. The detectives radioed ahead in the search of a clear lane to the emergency room.

      “This is Kowalski. We need a little help.”

      “Go ahead with your request.”

      “Give me local streets to a good police medical facility.”

      “That’s easy. Cop shot?”

      “Yeah, go ahead.”

      “What is your position?”

      In a matter of minutes, the detectives were in a hospital. They watched a team of doctors and nurses rush Lil’ Long’s near death body off to surgery.

      “If he lives, he’s gonna be your headache,” Hall said sarcastically.

      “In that case, I better have some aspirin handy,” Kowalski replied watching the creaking gurney carry Lil’ Long beyond the double doors.

       SIX

      In the annals of what remained of his wits, cannons bellowed. Don’t make me die, Lord, I wanna live. He heard words cocked and reloaded in his mind but no sounds shot past his swollen lips. Instead, he choked when the pain became unbearable. Blood dripped from his mouth.

      Lil′ Long tried to hold on. This is just too hard. Internally, it felt as if bells were ringing loud in his head but he remained unable to scream or communicate. His head pounded so hard that Lil’ Long closed his eyes. He stopped resisting.

      A shadowy figure whose eyes he couldn’t see approached him. He strained through the darkness trying to identify the figure. It was a familiar one, he was sure. Lil’ Long wanted to rise but couldn’t move. His mind became preoccupied with the activity. His facial muscles contorted into a silly grin. He knew he was no longer in charge of his movements. Darkness overshadowed every move but just beyond, something shone bright. The figure reached out and Lil’ Long dragged himself to the light.

      There was the ease of a cool breeze against his face. He could speak again but no one could hear him. The cold wind swirled cradling him. Wrapped in a blanket of wind, Lil’ Long hung in mid-air on a wild spinning ride. Suddenly, he was in an amusement park laughing loudly. Though no sounds were heard, he felt a fascinating high.