Jobe hugged his parents before handing Penny’s suitcase to his dad. As he moved he saw Mackenna already sitting in the seat, her head down.
The ride to Alvarez Security was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Jobe glanced nervously to the side, wondering what was going through her head. Finally, when he could not take the silence anymore, he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get a word out, she began to speak.
“Last night, I was on my computer when I heard the shots go off.”
He continued to drive, waiting to see what she was going to say next.
“I was looking up some things on PTSD.”
His heartbeat increased as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Here comes the part where she says she can’t handle dealing with a fucked up me.
Mackenna, aware that he was not going to say anything, continued, “I was thinking that maybe we could talk sometime if you still wanted to.”
Jobe let his breath out slowly, trying to control his pounding heart. He had no idea what she meant by that statement, but he was willing to take it as far as she was willing to listen. “I’d like that. Whenever you want,” were the simple words that came out, afraid to say anything more.
She sighed as they drove into the underground garage of Alvarez Security, looking on in curiosity as he pulled his truck in line with other large vehicles. “Maybe tonight, when all of this is over.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready when you are.”
She turned and peered at him, seeing the familiar face that had haunted her for so long. Whatever happened to you, I’ve gotta know. I’ve gotta know everything so that I can decide what the hell I’m going to do.
*
Mackenna sat in the large conference area of Alvarez Security, eyes wide as she peeked around in curiosity. The huge room held computers, partitioned off areas, white screens on the walls, as well as other equipment against the walls. Doors leading to offices and other rooms holding God knows what else were in sight as well.
“Mackenna?” Jobe prodded.
She jerked, blushing as she realized that she had been asked a question. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she apologized to the others around the table. “I’m sorry. I’m so distracted. Please, what did you ask?”
Shane smiled as he repeated, “Can you tell us when you first became involved in gang work?”
“I’m not involved in gang work,” she explained. “That was never my intent, although it’s a by-product.” Seeing the confused expressions of the others, she continued. “My thesis was actually in women’s studies at first. Looking at the home lives of why some girls drop out of high school. What I found was that for many of them, they were involved in gangs. If they weren’t getting the love and support from home, they often turned to the family atmosphere of a gang.”
“Family atmosphere?” Gabe asked incredulously.
“Yes, family,” she replied. “Not the sort of family that we associate with the word. But group. A community. A sense of belonging. Even ownership can feel good to someone who hasn’t had that.”
“But…” Vinny started but found himself unable to speak his thought in mixed company.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, a sad expression crossing her face. “Most girls are still beat-in as an initiation. And where the males have to rob or even kill to get in all the way to prove their obedience, the females have to have sex with multiple gang members. And again, it’s not our way of thinking about family, but for most of the girls…it’s what they know.”
Matt questioned her more. “So tell us about the center.”
“With my research, I found that the only way to get women to break out of that lifestyle is to be more independent. So localities who offer GED assistance, career training, etc. in a safe environment have a better chance of getting some of these girls out of gangs and working independently. So my grant does that. The city leases the center
The ride to Alvarez Security was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Jobe glanced nervously to the side, wondering what was going through her head. Finally, when he could not take the silence anymore, he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get a word out, she began to speak.
“Last night, I was on my computer when I heard the shots go off.”
He continued to drive, waiting to see what she was going to say next.
“I was looking up some things on PTSD.”
His heartbeat increased as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Here comes the part where she says she can’t handle dealing with a fucked up me.
Mackenna, aware that he was not going to say anything, continued, “I was thinking that maybe we could talk sometime if you still wanted to.”
Jobe let his breath out slowly, trying to control his pounding heart. He had no idea what she meant by that statement, but he was willing to take it as far as she was willing to listen. “I’d like that. Whenever you want,” were the simple words that came out, afraid to say anything more.
She sighed as they drove into the underground garage of Alvarez Security, looking on in curiosity as he pulled his truck in line with other large vehicles. “Maybe tonight, when all of this is over.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready when you are.”
She turned and peered at him, seeing the familiar face that had haunted her for so long. Whatever happened to you, I’ve gotta know. I’ve gotta know everything so that I can decide what the hell I’m going to do.
*
Mackenna sat in the large conference area of Alvarez Security, eyes wide as she peeked around in curiosity. The huge room held computers, partitioned off areas, white screens on the walls, as well as other equipment against the walls. Doors leading to offices and other rooms holding God knows what else were in sight as well.
“Mackenna?” Jobe prodded.
She jerked, blushing as she realized that she had been asked a question. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she apologized to the others around the table. “I’m sorry. I’m so distracted. Please, what did you ask?”
Shane smiled as he repeated, “Can you tell us when you first became involved in gang work?”
“I’m not involved in gang work,” she explained. “That was never my intent, although it’s a by-product.” Seeing the confused expressions of the others, she continued. “My thesis was actually in women’s studies at first. Looking at the home lives of why some girls drop out of high school. What I found was that for many of them, they were involved in gangs. If they weren’t getting the love and support from home, they often turned to the family atmosphere of a gang.”
“Family atmosphere?” Gabe asked incredulously.
“Yes, family,” she replied. “Not the sort of family that we associate with the word. But group. A community. A sense of belonging. Even ownership can feel good to someone who hasn’t had that.”
“But…” Vinny started but found himself unable to speak his thought in mixed company.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, a sad expression crossing her face. “Most girls are still beat-in as an initiation. And where the males have to rob or even kill to get in all the way to prove their obedience, the females have to have sex with multiple gang members. And again, it’s not our way of thinking about family, but for most of the girls…it’s what they know.”
Matt questioned her more. “So tell us about the center.”
“With my research, I found that the only way to get women to break out of that lifestyle is to be more independent. So localities who offer GED assistance, career training, etc. in a safe environment have a better chance of getting some of these girls out of gangs and working independently. So my grant does that. The city leases the center
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