Dirty Work: Part 2

“Fuck you!”

His harsh reply angered the sergeant and a few other cops in the area. They approached with caution, but with a fiery attitude. The NYPD was dealing with enough today, and they weren’t about to take any disrespect inside their building.

“Calm the fuck down or leave the building,” said another cop.

“Fuck you too, cracker-ass muthafucka!”

The cop was raring to go with his hand on his holstered weapon, legs spread. A reaction was his next action. He wasn’t alone; several other officers had surrounded the disgruntled man and ordered him, “Get on the ground now! Get on the ground!”

The man wasn’t complying at all. He was ready for a fight. When they tried to restrain him with force, he fought back. He punched two officers in the face with a wallop that echoed like thunder, and he wrestled with the others. They struggled with him. Although he was slim, he was strong and feisty. He screamed. Eshon minded her business on the sidelines as she watched eight cops crash against the man to bring him down and handcuff him.

It was an eventful morning.

After the melee, things started to get back to normal, if they could call anything about this morning normal.

Impatience bubbled inside Eshon; this wasn’t about to be her entire day, sitting inside a precinct and seeking a cop’s attention. She stood up and looked for a cop who would most likely talk to her. But she would have to change her story. She soon spotted a female officer entering the building. She was a black woman, about Eshon’s own height and not looking sleep-deprived like the other cops. She looked refreshed and charged up. Eshon approached her, and uttered, “Officer! Officer! Please, I need your help.”

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; The woman turned and looked at her. Her nametag read Miles. Officer Miles. Eshon had gotten her attention; now she needed to keep it.

“I was there!” Eshon uttered fretfully.

“You were where?” replied the cop.

“My friend and I were at the club when we got separated. I left the club, and then the building blew up suddenly. I just need to know, is she on that list? Is she dead?”

“No list has been put together yet; it’s still too early. Did you try contacting the hospitals in the area?”

“I did, and she’s not in any one of them. She’s not home, and her family is really worried. I need to find her, officer.”

“You’ll find her.”

“Has she been arrested?” asked Eshon.

“Arrested? Why would you think she’s been arrested?”

“I just see that it’s a madhouse here and in the city. Lots of people are being arrested since the explosion last night. And I’m just worried about her. It’s my paranoia talking, that’s all,” Eshon proclaimed.

Eshon’s outburst piqued Officer Miles’ interest. She was trained to spot suspicious behavior, and there was something suspicious about Eshon.

“What is your friend’s name?” she asked.

“Jessica Hernandez,” Eshon answered.

Officer Miles said, “Wait here, I’ll go check.”

The officer pivoted and walked toward the front desk to access the nearest computer. Eshon stood there with butterflies swimming around in her stomach and watched her from a short distance. She thought about everything that could go wrong. Shit—why am I here in the first place? she screamed to herself. She felt too vulnerable. She feared being arrested herself. She wasn’t a law abiding citizen, but a criminal herself. What if she had warrants? What if they came for her?

Keep cool! Keep cool. Chill, she told herself repeatedly.

Officer Miles approached Eshon and told her, “I have good news and bad news.”

Eshon puffed out and said, “What is it?”

“We found your friend, and she’s here. She has been arrested.”

Eshon lied and replied, “I’m just happy to know that she’s alive.”