Team Mom (15 page)

For Harry, it seemed as though life had been hell ever since he closed his check-cashing operation. It was a business that he'd owned for the past sixteen years, and he had never planned on doing anything else. It wasn't his fault it was closed. Vernon had made him close it, and then Vernon had been bold enough to move into his home and take control of everything inside, including his daughters and anything else that he wanted. Harry's home was large enough for everyone to spread out and not be on top of one another. It was great for Harry and his two daughters. But when Vernon decided that this was the place where he was going to put his next crime in motion, his presence was felt in every corner of the house, and that made it an awful place to be.

Vernon had Harry move the furniture in their family room so that Vernon would have his back toward the wall and could face anyone who entered the room. The room had a couch, a television, some chairs, and a few small tables. On this day Vernon was sitting on the couch, peering at Harry's daughters. One was seventeen, and the other was maybe nine. There were several pistols lying next to Vernon on the couch, and a few assault rifles lay on the floor by his feet.

“Come here, Harry,” Vernon said.

Harry's daughters looked over at their father, then back at Vernon, wondering what he wanted this time, as Harry did as he was told. Harry tried to give his daughters the most calming smile he could muster to sooth their nerves, but it didn't work. When he got close enough to Vernon, he stopped without saying a word, and it was apparent that he was mortified by Vernon and everything he was about.

Vernon said, “How long have I known you?”

Harry didn't have an exact answer for him, so he didn't reply. He'd been scolded earlier and bitch slapped in front of his daughters for not knowing exactly how many beers were in the fridge.

Vernon said, “Here we go. Are we going to play that fuckin' game today, Harry? Gotdamn it, when I ask you a question, just answer it, okay?”

“I'll try,” Harry mumbled. “About three months,” he said.

Vernon smiled. “Wrong.”

“No?” Harry said.

“Hell no, it's been three months and six days. Damn it, man. Don't you remember anything?”

Harry was about to speak, but Vernon told him to shut the hell up.

“Listen, while you were out getting my beer, I turned on the twelve o'clock news and I watched it with your daughters.” He waved over at them with twinkling fingers and a crooked smile. “Don't you want to know what they said about me on the news, Harry?”

Harry nodded yes.

“No, no, gotdamn it. Let's have some interaction, some communication. Fuckin' ask me, man.”

Harry looked over at his daughters and they looked away from him. He carefully selected his words before he spoke. “Vernon, can you tell me why you were on the news today?”

Vernon looked at him like a teacher waiting for something.

“Please,” Harry said quickly. “Please.”

Vernon smiled, then pushed himself back against the couch to sit up straight. “Well, it seems like these motherfuckers think I beat up an old lady and killed two people and put one of the dead bodies in your little broken-down business venture around the way.”

Harry remained silent and tried to listen to every word that was said to him.

“I know . . . crazy, huh?” Vernon said. “As long as you've known me, have you ever known me to kill a man, Harry?”

“No, no, I haven't,” Harry answered.

“Well, this detective thinks I did. He thinks I did so much that he said my name on television and showed the entire city my picture so people can see me if I go out into the streets. Have you ever been a wanted man, Harry?”

“No, no, I haven't,” Harry said.

“Of course you haven't. You haven't done anything wrong, except maybe come over here to this country illegally and change your name to Harry Henry. But never mind that, Harry, because I always say, ‘The more the merrier.'” He looked over at the girls. “Right, ladies?”

The girls turned their heads from Vernon, and the oldest put her arm around her little sister because she hadn't stopped shaking since the fool Vernon had taken them all hostage. Harry was becoming very uncomfortable with the looks Vernon had been shooting his daughters, but he knew he was no match for Vernon physically and refused to say a word about it.

“So, Harry, since this guy wants to make my life uncomfortable, guess what? That's going to make your life uncomfortable too. That is why I want you to come over here and choose one of these rifles lying at my feet,” Vernon said.

Harry looked down and could see the rifles all at his feet, along with the pistols on the couch.

“Don't make me tell you twice.” Vernon's voice was ice cold now.

Harry moved closer to him.

“Go 'head and pick one up,” Vernon said.

Harry looked at Vernon, trying to read him, as this might be some sort of trick.

“It's cool, man. I just want you to pick it up,” Vernon said.

Harry bent down to grab a rifle as quickly as he could, trying to keep his eyes on Vernon the entire time, while Vernon cheered him on. When Harry finally secured the rifle in his hands, he placed it in firing position and pointed it directly at Vernon's head and pulled the trigger over and over and over again.

Vernon pushed his back against the couch again and again, pretending to be shot, and then had a good laugh at Harry's expense. His voice was higher pitched when he said, “Harry, do you really think I would give your stupid ass a loaded assault weapon at this moment in time? Huh, do you?”

Harry still had the weapon in his hands but was more scared than he had ever been because of what he had attempted to do.

“You should be scared, Harry, but I don't blame you. I have taken over your home, and guess what? If you don't do exactly what I tell you, I'm going to take your daughters too, both of them. So, I understand your anger, and that's going to make what I have for you to do that much easier for you.”

Harry didn't respond to the threat, as he was given a full understanding of what Vernon meant when Vernon ordered Harry's oldest daughter to sit on the floor, facing him, without her shirt on so Vernon could lust after her breasts, while he gave Harry instructions on what he wanted done with the assault rifle Harry was still holding in his hands.

Days had passed, and the trail to Vernon had turned ice cold. Coach was beginning to think Vernon had left town to terrorize another community and its citizens. Coach was still spending every night with Shonda and Jarques and driving around the community with the rest of officers in his precinct during the day, searching every possible place that Vernon could be. Known criminals on the streets didn't even want to talk about Vernon after finding out that he had done his own brother for talking.

Coach welcomed the end of the football season at the park more than he ever had in the past. This season he actually felt as though he had let his team down, even though they had one game to go and, if they were victorious, would head into the play-offs. Coach would be the first to admit that his current investigation had pulled him away from his team, and he intended to make the last week of practice leading up to the final game a time that the kids would never forget, whether they won or lost on Saturday, because in his eyes they deserved it. All through the week Coach had dinner for the kids catered after practice and gave them five different T-shirts apiece for their wardrobes that would promote the team and the park for years to come.

Calvin, on the other hand, wanted to continue playing in the play-offs, and during the last practice he worked the team as hard as he could, believing that they had the upper hand on their opponent this upcoming weekend. And if they stuck to the game plan, they would have another week of practice and another game to play. After a round of wind sprints and a water break, the coaches brought the team together in a huddle to begin working on offense. Coach smiled as he watched Shonda gather the water bottles to refill them.

After the coaches set the players up on the defense that their opponent would most likely run this weekend, they began to give the players on offense their blocking assignments one by one to ensure everyone would know what to do come game day. Coach was working with the line on a play, and Calvin was in the backfield, in a player's face about not fumbling in the upcoming game.

As practice continued, Harry watched from afar in his car. He was worn and tired. He couldn't sleep with that animal in the house with his daughters, and now Vernon was there all alone with them. Vernon's promise to leave them be and get out of their lives for good was all that Harry was focusing on as he sat in the front seat with the loaded assault rifle, given to him to turn on the entire football team at the end of practice. Harry had never been so out of his mind before. His lack of sleep had pushed him into doing exactly what Vernon wanted him to do, as had his concern for the well-being of his dear daughters, who lost their mother when they were only babies and needed their father. At this point, he was willing to do whatever was necessary for their safety. No matter what.

Vernon had told Harry to make sure he waited until 7:30 p.m. to turn the weapon on the team. At 7:25 p.m. the cell phone Vernon had given him rang. Harry answered, keeping his eyes on the team members, who looked to be taking off their helmets and gathering in a circle to end practice.

“They should be ending practice by now,” Vernon said.

Harry didn't answer.

“Hey, gotdamn it! Did they finish practice or what?”

Harry remained silent until he heard his older daughter scream. “Yes, yes, they are in a circle now,” Harry said.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go out there, point that rifle at them, and just pull the trigger until it stops firing. Then get back here to get your daughters,” Vernon said.

Vernon's orders at this point seemed as if they were doable when Harry overheard Vernon ask for another kiss from his daughter. It took Harry over the edge, and he threw the phone on the car floor, picked up the rifle, climbed out from behind the wheel, and walked onto the field.

Dusk had fallen on the field. Harry stood about thirty yards from the team and tried to place the rifle in the same position Vernon had shown him at the house, because he was told that it would be hard to handle the rifle otherwise. Harry had never fired a semiautomatic rifle before. Or any rifle, for that matter, except for the BB gun he had had for a month or two as a child, before his mother took it away from him. Harry asked God to forgive him before he lifted the rifle one last time.

As Calvin and Coach addressed their team amid the falling darkness, Calvin looked up and could not believe what he was seeing. Calvin tapped Coach on the arm, and Coach did not have to think twice about what was about to go down. Coach tried to collect himself.

“Guys,” Coach said to his team, “I want everybody to gather in real tight for me. Don't look back. Just do what the hell I say right now.” As the team gathered closer together, Coach told them to put their helmets on and, when he told them to run, to run as fast as they could across to the other side of the field. But before he could tell them to run, he noticed Shonda walk in front of the gunman and called out her name. Now Shonda and Harry were standing face-to-face, and Shonda was not blinking an eye.

“Move out the way, lady. Are you crazy?”

“She paused. “Maybe I am.”

Who are you, lady?”

“I'm the team mom.”

Standing with his teammates, Jarques turned around and saw his mother, and began to run toward her, but Calvin grabbed him by the arm and struggled to keep him from bolting. Coach started walking in Shonda's direction and called out several times for the man to put down his weapon.

Harry repeated, “I said, ‘Move out of the way,”

“No, I will not move,” Shonda said. She looked back at Jarques when he called out her name.

“I mean it, lady! Move right now, or I will shoot you first!”

“Well, go 'head and do it, damn it, because you're not shooting those boys!”

Harry tried to sidestep Shonda, but she continued to move in front of him and the rifle. “I have to do this. Get the fuck out of the way!” he said.

“You
have
to do it? Why would you have to harm these boys?”

“He told me too. I have to, or he's going to kill my daughters.”

Harry tried to sidestep Shonda again, and she moved in his line of fire again.

“Will you please move, gotdamn it! Please . . . If I don't do this, my daughters are dead.”

“Sir, look, I don't know what's going on right now. But I do know that I am
not
moving, and if you want to shoot them, you have to start with me.”

Harry was getting annoyed and took the rifle and aimed it right at Shonda's head. “Okay, if this is how you want it,” he said.

Jarques screamed out for his mother. Shonda looked Harry right in the eye while they stood in the same position for what seemed like hours. Harry began to cry and moved his finger on the trigger, then yanked the rifle down and fell to his knees and wept. Seconds later Coach and Calvin grabbed him and took the rifle away.

Everyone on the field was saying their prayers, and parents were running onto the field, clutching their sons and wanting to kick the shit out of Harry, even though he had put the rifle down. Coach called in cruisers, and when they arrived, officers placed Harry in the back of one of the cruisers. Coach climbed in next to Harry. He had no time for any games.

“You remember me, Harry?” Coach said.

For the first time Harry looked up and focused in on Coach. His eyes were red from crying. “Yeah, you're that detective guy.”

“That's right. I'm only going to ask you this one time, Harry, before they go and lock your ass up and you never see the crack of daylight again. What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck is this all about, man?”

Harry had his hands cuffed behind his back. “He's going to kill my daughters,” he said. “He's probably done it by now.”

“Who is he?” Coach asked.

“The fucking asshole who took my place of business hostage. He's in my house with my daughters. Told me if I didn't come down here and shoot up the team, he was going to kill them.”

“Vernon?”

“Yes. By now, I'm sure, he has already hurt them.”

Finally, a break on where the asshole had been hiding out. Coach could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body because he was pissed. Pissed that Shonda had to be taken to the hospital to be treated for shock, pissed that this fuckin' asshole didn't have enough balls not to give in to Vernon's threat to hurt his daughters at the expense of others, and pissed at Vernon for taking advantage and terrorizing so many people.

Within minutes they had a tactical squad in front of Harry's home, and the first thing that they did was cut off all power to the house. Coach had Harry placed in his car, and after he got all the information from Harry about his daughters' and Vernon's exact location in the home, Coach relayed it to the SWAT team. They had made up their minds that there would be no negotiations when they arrived on the scene. They were going to burst through the house and take this asshole dead or alive.

All Coach could do now as he stood beside his Chevy was wait and see as the SWAT team went to work. Harry stood beside him in cuffs as the SWAT team announced themselves and went inside. A couple minutes later Harry saw his daughters running out of the house and screamed out their names. Coach took off Harry's cuffs before he was reunited with his daughters, and then patted him on the back, because he truly understood family. A few minutes later, Vernon was led out by officers, hands cuffed behind his back, and within minutes he was on his way to jail for the rest of his sad life.