Red White and Black

Chapter Twenty One - Part A

Sadie

Dear Jesus, help these knees to last just a few more minutes. Sadie prayed and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She had risen early in an effort to beat the heat, but discovered to her dismay the sun didn't have to be high in the sky for the heat to be miserable. Nevertheless, she had replanted all but the last two of the rose bushes torn up by Markus in yesterday's tirade. Hoping her action would salvage the plants, but more importantly hoping to salvage the tattered and bruised relationship with Sammy Morris, she had decided not only to repair the damage but dug into her purse and scraped together enough cash to replace the plants that were too damaged for replanting. It was money that could've gone toward repairing the car but she figured some things could wait while others couldn't.

The soil had grown rock hard after weeks baking in the summer sun and a blister the size of a quarter had formed on her thumb from the garden spade she was using. She tried switching hands but found herself reverting back to her right hand, blister or not. Jesus, I'm down here sweatin' like a pig and doin' my part. I'm hopin' you gonna do your thing and bring these plants back to life. It'd be a cryin' shame for me to go to all this effort and you let 'em die. The blister popped at that moment sending a tiny rivulet of water running down her hand and allowing the raw skin to rub against the wood handle. The pain made her wince but she had to smile in spite of her sore hand. I guess I needed to be reminded who's the boss 'round here, didn't I. Well, there ain't gonna be no more complainin' from me.

A car pulled to a stop in front of the house, its tires crunching gravel and scraping against the curb. Sadie knew, even before the two men opened their doors, that the vehicle was an unmarked police car. The knowledge came from a lifetime of being aware of the police and the imminent threat they represented to her or anyone with black skin. She didn't bother thinking about the fairness or stereotypes that assumption made, for she dealt in reality. And reality had sat up and smacked her in the face more than once.

"Now what can I do for you gentlemen that I didn't already cover last night with the other officers?" She asked with a smile she didn't really feel like sharing.

"And a good morning to you," replied the policeman. "My name is Detective Simpson. We need to ask you just a few more questions."

Something in his tone caused Sadie to stop digging and turn to face him. She held her hand across her forehead to shield her eyes against the early morning sun. "Well then, go ahead. I already done wore myself out this morning so I guess I can sit back and help you gentlemen out for a bit."

"I think we have effectively ruled out your nephew Markus as the perpetrator in the attack on Estelle Morris but he does have a connection to another individual we might like to interview."

"Jay C. You talkin' about Jay C."

"Exactly. They were arrested just last year if you recall." Simpson paused but when Sadie offered no response he continued. "It may be a longshot, but some of the neighbors recall seeing him hanging around here within the last few days."

Sadie began to grow irritated. She wanted nothing more than to grab Simpson by the lapels of his suit, shake some sense into him, and let him know Jay C couldn't be involved with an attack on an elderly woman. She'd known him most of his life and it wasn't possible. Instead, she pushed herself to her feet and brushed the dirt from her knees and hands, using the time to calm down.

"I'll tell you, Detective," she said, again wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead. "Jay C ain't no saint, not sayin' he is. But he don't have it in him to be doin' this. He just don't. I know'd that boy his whole life and it ain't in him."