asking, “Why do you keep staring at that man?” He looked up relieved to find Justice’s fedora fading down Wilshire Boulevard and out of sight.
NINETEEN
A fter a dinner and a massage with Lundin, William sat in his home office, and prepared to have some fun with Justice Lorenzo. The fictional one. He would exact revenge on the anxiety Justice cost him on paper.
Lundin came in and sat a plate of her famous chocolate chip, oatmeal, raisin, and coconut cookies in front of him. She added a latte, and then left to gossip with Shaunte and Margaret on the telephone.
William was in no real mood for a snack, but he was very eager to write. Dying to, in fact. He opened his laptop, ignoring his writing pad, and began to let the words flow:
Hopelessly, Justice let the bus pull out the station after asking the driver how long before the next bus arrived.
It was 10:50 p.m. and the next bus arrived just after midnight. What the hell was he to do for over an hour. He called everyone that he knew that could be of assistance. No one seemed to be able to help, as no one wanted to drive that far to pick up him and a fugitive. That was the life of Justice Lorenzo. Always on his own. When buried alive, he opened the sealed coffin and swam through six feet of dirt to the top.
Justice did not think that it was wise to linger at the bus stop. Certainly, the police would look for Amir there first. He brewed a plan and could not wait to see it percolate into java. He called Amir’s phone and was sent directly to voicemail. So, he walked over to the supermarket elated that it stayed open until midnight.
He grabbed a shopping cart and perused the aisles throwing non-perishable items into the cart. Just a young, Black man out doing late night shopping. He shopped for a plan to get the hell out of Woodbridge. Thirty minutes passed, and in the cereal aisle, his cell phone hollered, “Wait till you see my dick.” He felt the heat from an elderly couple that was in disbelief.
“ Dick is my friend, Richard,” he said with a curt smile and raced out of the market. “Amir, where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“ That was my girl.”
“ Man, you’re drawing with that. I am coming to get you.”
“ I moved from the swamp, and am right behind Marshall’s.”
“ Okay, I’ll walk over there along the driveway in the back of the stores that separates the woods. Be able to see me, and come out when I am in your view. The bus comes in ‘bout thirty minutes and there’s no time to bullshit, we have to run back two miles.”
“ What about the police?” Amir asked, hoping that Justice was not setting him up for an arrest.
“ I’m guessing shift changed at ten or eleven for the police and Walmart closed at ten. Just be ready!” Justice barked and hung up.
Justice walked to the main highway, and along the shoulder. He was headed to a light to cross to the other side when he saw a portion of the gate missing. Perfect! He strategically timed the traffic and then crossed to the other side. He hoped that he was not arrested for jaywalking in Smallville. He jogged back in the direction of the stores and called Amir and told him to be ready, because he crossed the Marshall’s parking lot.
When he reached the driveway, he saw Amir. He was mangled. Weeds in his hair. Clothes mud laced. Tennis shoes that were black, were brown. There was no real time to assess all the damage. The two of them raced to the bus station.
The inside of the station had closed, so they had to purchase tickets from the machines outside. That meant that they could not bargain for a free ticket from the teller.
Amir hid behind the ticket machine. Great cover from being seen by a passerby and policeman from the main road. However, they did not have enough money for two fares. Justice was frustrated. Not a human was in sight. Shit! Shit! Shit! He wanted to scream. Then he had a glimpse of hope.
He looked at his watch. Ten
NINETEEN
A fter a dinner and a massage with Lundin, William sat in his home office, and prepared to have some fun with Justice Lorenzo. The fictional one. He would exact revenge on the anxiety Justice cost him on paper.
Lundin came in and sat a plate of her famous chocolate chip, oatmeal, raisin, and coconut cookies in front of him. She added a latte, and then left to gossip with Shaunte and Margaret on the telephone.
William was in no real mood for a snack, but he was very eager to write. Dying to, in fact. He opened his laptop, ignoring his writing pad, and began to let the words flow:
Hopelessly, Justice let the bus pull out the station after asking the driver how long before the next bus arrived.
It was 10:50 p.m. and the next bus arrived just after midnight. What the hell was he to do for over an hour. He called everyone that he knew that could be of assistance. No one seemed to be able to help, as no one wanted to drive that far to pick up him and a fugitive. That was the life of Justice Lorenzo. Always on his own. When buried alive, he opened the sealed coffin and swam through six feet of dirt to the top.
Justice did not think that it was wise to linger at the bus stop. Certainly, the police would look for Amir there first. He brewed a plan and could not wait to see it percolate into java. He called Amir’s phone and was sent directly to voicemail. So, he walked over to the supermarket elated that it stayed open until midnight.
He grabbed a shopping cart and perused the aisles throwing non-perishable items into the cart. Just a young, Black man out doing late night shopping. He shopped for a plan to get the hell out of Woodbridge. Thirty minutes passed, and in the cereal aisle, his cell phone hollered, “Wait till you see my dick.” He felt the heat from an elderly couple that was in disbelief.
“ Dick is my friend, Richard,” he said with a curt smile and raced out of the market. “Amir, where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“ That was my girl.”
“ Man, you’re drawing with that. I am coming to get you.”
“ I moved from the swamp, and am right behind Marshall’s.”
“ Okay, I’ll walk over there along the driveway in the back of the stores that separates the woods. Be able to see me, and come out when I am in your view. The bus comes in ‘bout thirty minutes and there’s no time to bullshit, we have to run back two miles.”
“ What about the police?” Amir asked, hoping that Justice was not setting him up for an arrest.
“ I’m guessing shift changed at ten or eleven for the police and Walmart closed at ten. Just be ready!” Justice barked and hung up.
Justice walked to the main highway, and along the shoulder. He was headed to a light to cross to the other side when he saw a portion of the gate missing. Perfect! He strategically timed the traffic and then crossed to the other side. He hoped that he was not arrested for jaywalking in Smallville. He jogged back in the direction of the stores and called Amir and told him to be ready, because he crossed the Marshall’s parking lot.
When he reached the driveway, he saw Amir. He was mangled. Weeds in his hair. Clothes mud laced. Tennis shoes that were black, were brown. There was no real time to assess all the damage. The two of them raced to the bus station.
The inside of the station had closed, so they had to purchase tickets from the machines outside. That meant that they could not bargain for a free ticket from the teller.
Amir hid behind the ticket machine. Great cover from being seen by a passerby and policeman from the main road. However, they did not have enough money for two fares. Justice was frustrated. Not a human was in sight. Shit! Shit! Shit! He wanted to scream. Then he had a glimpse of hope.
He looked at his watch. Ten
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