The Scammer(14)

At that exact moment, there’s a small wave, the crowd falling like dominoes. Loren loses her footing, toppling down.

“Loren!” But she’s gone, drowning in the sea of people, vanishing from sight. My bones turn to icicles, heart trying to explode through my ribs.

Through all the screaming and shouting, I hear the echoing of cans bouncing on the concrete. Smoke plumes and surrounds us like an oncoming fog. A billion onions are sliced at once. My eyes begin to burn and sizzle. In the height of my panic, my thoughts drift to him.

This is it, Kevin. I’ve failed . . . before even trying.

I frantically spin, searching for a way out, thumping into a hard chest.

Devonte.

He takes a giant stride, plucking protesters off one-handed, and pulls Loren to her feet, scooping her to his side.

“Don’t let go,” he shouts into my ear. His thick calluses scratch the inside of my palm as he tightens his grip. Then, like a bulldozer, he charges through the crowd, moving fast, a hot knife through butter, heading straight for a parked van.

“Wait!” he orders, positioning us behind the back of the van. “Cover your nose and mouth. Just wait.”

And as if on cue, a stampede erupts, everyone running, screaming following. Kammy sobs into her praying hands. But Devonte seems to be calm, careful . . . calculating.

When the crowd thins, Devonte pushes us toward the sidewalk. “Go!”

On the corner, the crowd eases enough for us to push through and run away from the madness. Down the block, Vanessa waves by the open door of her truck.

“Get in! Get in!”

I grab Kammy’s hand and scramble into the back seat, Loren dives in after us.

Devonte jumps into the driver’s seat, throws the car in gear, and speeds off.



* * *




“I’m so so sorry, y’all,” Vanessa says for the millionth time, eyes swollen with tears. “I didn’t think it was gonna be like that.”

Back at the dorm, Devonte helps us tend to our stinging eyes. Other than a lost shoe, a torn shirt, and buckets of tears, we managed to make it out unscathed.

“So why did you hide behind the van?” Kareem asks as we recount our night of terror.

Devonte sips his water, taking all the attention in stride. “They were in the middle of a crowd crush. A stampede was the next thing coming so I hid us behind something and let the majority of the crowd pass. You don’t want to get caught up, trip, and run over. Trust. Been to enough concerts to know how to survive.”

Kammy shakes her head in awe. “You saved our lives.”

Devonte gives a modest nod. All in a day’s work for him. Still, I find myself so grateful. A strange feeling. How did he even know how to find us?

“It’s my fault we were out there in the first place,” Vanessa admits, shaking her head. Kareem kisses her cheek. “We could’ve been locked up. Then . . . shit.”

She looks at Devonte, something passing between them.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Devonte corrects her, eyes flickering to Kareem’s hand then back.

“How’d you know where we were?” I ask, trying not to sound suspicious.

“Vanessa told me where y’all were kicking it tonight. I had a sense something was up. I’ve seen this movie too many times. The police set a trap, trying to lock up as many brothers and sisters as they can get their hands on. More numbers, more overtime, more pay. You probably would’ve stayed locked up over the weekend.”

I think of Nick at the police station. What would he have said if he saw me being carted off. Would he have tried to help? Would he be impressed?

“Nothing is gained by looting and burning down businesses owned and run by our own people,” Loren says, and I tune back into the conversation. “These riots are just gonna keep setting us back.”

“It’s an uprising, sis. Not a riot,” Devonte says gently. “Words have power. We have to use them wisely, and not use the enemy’s language for what is going on right now. See, calling it a riot makes it seem like fighting against oppression is wrong. And that ain’t it.”

Loren processes this for a moment, giving him an appreciative nod. “Facts.”

Kareem continues to comfort Vanessa while Kammy stares at the floor, still in shock.

“This is just gonna keep on happening,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, and they just gonna keep getting away with it,” Kareem hisses.

Devonte scans the room. “Y’all are young and have seen this type of injustice more than you should. Before, there were no cameras to catch our people being gunned down, attacked, and framed. Y’all are a generation who’ve seen lynching and police brutality in real time, in color and surround sound. You’ve had to deal with the burden of witnessing those same people get away with it. Murderers in navy uniforms. Then, folks expect you to go to school, function like it’s just another day. Teaching you to be fair and follow the rules, in an unfair world that stays cheating. It’s no wonder y’all fed up and ready to take to the streets, ready to burn it all down. It ain’t right and you deserve better.”

The room simmers, a dark cloud over our thoughts and memories. The images shoved in our faces every day. It’s all we’ve seen and known. It’s like he understands the feelings we have had no real words for. The violations that have been done to our childhood, the proverbial peace promised yet never experienced. Seems like we’re always sitting on the edge of an unsaid war; if it’s not one thing, it’s another. It’s not right and we do deserve better.