I moved my head.
“ Elmo, lookahera. She’s a purdy black gurl. Nah all we wanna
do missy is tie ya’ll up and have ourselves a lil fun,” he snickered
and scratched his privates.
Life’s hand was under the seat now and I really thought he was
going to be foolish and grab the gun.
“ Put yo hands up and get out da car. Jumbo, tie the gurl up
first.”
“ Hold up! I have money. Lots of it, just don’t hurt the girl.”
“ Huh?” The gunman peered closer to Life as if he were exam-
ining some fine specimen of a nigger. The word money had his
attention.
27
L i f e
As I looked on, to my horror in what looked like blazing
speed, Life grabbed the gun. A tussle ensued and the gun fired. I
screamed, shattering the lull of the night. Life hung onto the old
man with a death grip. The old white man must have been as
strong as a bear, because he pulled Life through the window like
he was a little rag doll. The other two men ran to the other side of
the car to help their partner. Vaguely, I thought I heard Life yell
for me to get the gun, but I was scared to death. I couldn’t move.
Though blinded by the high beam lights, I watched the sil-
houette of bodies ensconced in the throes of death’s struggle, as
Life Thugstin fought for his life. The other two men were now
pummeling him with blows and somehow, amazingly with the
brute strength of determination, he held on to the gun. I watched
as one of the white men drew back hitting Life with an iron crow-
bar. He cried out in pain. To me, at that moment, at that time, his
cries sounded like the vociferous shrieks of a million dying Black
men being tortured. They were going to kill Life, just as sure as I
sat there in the car doing nothing, just as sure as the moon and the
stars would bear witness once again to the senseless atrocities
waged against a human life.
In the torrid passion of insurmountable fears, something
loomed in me that I have never felt before, it seized my body,
pushing me forward. Rage! The kind of rage that made me lash
out without caring. I grabbed the gun from inside the glove com-
partment. It was heavy. I staggered out of the car into the dreary
night. Something possessed me. The white man that tried to
touch my hair was about to wack Life in the back with the crow-
bar once again. I fired the gun. The sound was deafening. A blast
of orange exploded around my head. I was nearly knocked to the
ground but somehow I managed to keep my balance.
“ Muthafucka, get the fuck off of him! Now bitch, or I’ll blow
your muthafuckin brains out!” I yelled as spittle dribbled off my
lips like a deranged maniac on drugs. My hands trembled as I
aimed the gun. Tears streaked my cheeks. They all backed up off
of Life, leaving his lifeless body lying in a heap in the weeds and
28
L i f e
dirt. I called his name, “Life … Life!” He did not move. One of
the men was holding a knife in his hand. Oh my God! My eyes
darted to the knife and back to Life. A lone car passed. Three pairs
of eyes stared at me.
The leader spoke as he inched toward me. “Naw, Missy give
me dat dere gu–”
Pow!
I fired the gun at his head.
“ Get on the ground now!” I heard the crowbar hit the ground.
They all tried to get as flat as the dirt.
“ Please don’t shoot, lady,” I heard one of them cower.
As if being awakened from the dead, Life moved and sat up
rubbing his head the way people do when they are trying to get
over a hangover. I watched as he slowly rose and walked over to
me. There was a cut above his eye and his mouth was bleeding. I
swear to God I wanted to hug that man, that thug. There was no
doubt in my mind he would give his life for me.
“ Give me the gun!” he said with a tone in his voice that let me
know he was in control.
At that moment, I just fell apart, a fragile husk of myself. I fell
into his arms. He whispered in my hair for me to go sit in the car.
I walked to the car with legs