“Time to pack up, baby. I’ve got the goods, and we’re ready to roll. Good times are coming.”
Maxine closed the door behind her but did not lock it. Her eyes took in the extra luggage on the worn carpet and then the straight razor in RaQuen’s hand. She knew in the past RaQuen had used the razor for more than shaving. She stayed next to the door, semi-conscious that she might need a means of escape. Her handbag slipped off of her shoulder and into her right hand. She fixed on RaQuen’s face and spoke in a low, meaningful voice.
“Those two people you killed to get the money for the drugs, they were my family. The little boy was my son. You killed my son, RaQuen. I can’t forgive you for that and I won’t. I hope you rot in jail.”
Maxine heard cars pull into the parking lot. RaQuen heard them too. He advanced towards Maxine with the razor in his hand. His face turned angry, his voice mean.
“What have you done, woman?”
Maxine turned to leave, but she wasn’t fast enough. RaQuen grabbed her arm with his left hand and swung the razor in his right at the same time. Maxine screamed.
She also swung her purse which was full of cosmetics and the heavy set of keys she carried for RaQuen. The purse connected with RaQuen’s arm loosening his grip just enough for her to move away from him. The movement was also away from the door and escape but temporarily out of reach of the razor. She heard car doors and voices. The cut on her cheek burned, and she felt the blood run down her face.
Maxine looked up as the door was flung open and a policeman came in but what caught her eye was RaQuen coming out of the bathroom with a pistol in his hand, the razor forgotten. She heard him fire at the officer, but then she lost consciousness. Maxine fell to the floor, her head hitting one of the drug-filled suitcases. A small pool of blood formed by her head.
Maize was surprised to see a uniformed policeman at her door. With the funeral over, she thought she was finished with the police and news people. She was still wearing the black dress she had worn when Mr. Blackwelder had passed. She had been sitting in her old rocker holding a small teddy bear in her lap. She rocked Maxine that way and then Toby. She was feeling a little sad about herself, realizing she was now alone.
Maize invited the policeman in, but he refused to take the offered seat.
“How may I help you, young man?”
“Mrs. Blackwelder, do you know a Maxine Blackwelder?”
“Yes, she’s my daughter,” Maize answered, the sadness suddenly replaced by a questioning look.
“We have a Maxine Blackwelder in the hospital, and she’s asked us to find you.”
“My Maxine?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m here to give you a ride if you wish to go see her.”
Maize had never ridden in a police car before, but she was too emotional with her news to worry about what the neighbors might be thinking about her being carried off like that. She was trying to find out what was wrong with Maxine and why after all these years she had shown up in Southern City.
“What’s wrong with my daughter that she’s in the hospital here in Southern City? She lives up north of here.”
“She was severely cut across her face with a razor. She’s lost quite a bit of blood, and she hit her head. The doctors are just checking her out. When she came to, she asked for you and told us where you lived.”
“Who cut her? What about him?”
“I don’t know who he was, but he’s dead. He shot an officer in the chest, and the officer’s partner shot him.”
Maize walked into the emergency room where she was led to a small side room. In spite of the large bandage on the side of the patient’s head, Maize recognized her daughter and found she was without words. A large lump grew in her throat, choking off her breath. Her heart, which was strong, for a woman her age, skipped a beat. She stared at Maxine’s eyes, knowing instantly that the pain registered there went beyond the cut on her face. She had suffered a broken heart herself, and she knew what one looked like.
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