“Hey yo, hey yo, yeah you, what’s going on up in the building?”
The teen paused shrugged her shoulders before saying: “I don’t know man,” she said out of breath.
“These girls were scrapping on the third floor and one o’ them pulled out a hammer and let off,” another person volunteered as she quickly moved past the bodyguard.
When the beefy security reached the third floor, he heard a chilling scream over his heavy breathing.
“Someone please call 911!” Coco cried for help. The guard hurriedly sought Deedee and grabbed her by the arm.
“Are you okay?” He asked with urgency.
“Yes, yes I’m fine,” Deedee said as her fingers frantically worked her cell phone. “We have an emergency. What’s the name of these houses?” Deedee asked repositioning herself trying to get better transmission.
“Ah… Malcolm X,” someone shouted.
“Ah… I’m not sure. I can’t hear you… I don’t have good reception. An older lady might be dead…”
Coco grabbed the phone, “We need an ambulance right away, someone fired a gun and a lady is down… I don’t know? Just send the ambulance right away thank you. It’s the corner of one-tenth and Lenox, hurry.” Coco hurried back to where Miss Katie’s body laid. “The ambulance will be here soon, Miss Katie. Please hold on it won’t be long now. Please hold on.” Coco held her hand pleading, tears streaming.
“Coco, maybe we should move her inside, I’ll ask the bodyguard to help carry her…”
“You think she’s dead, Dee?”
“I don’t know Coco. She’s not moving. Is she breathing or anything…?”
“I can hardly tell. Miss Katie, Miss Katie, Miss Katie…” Coco cowered as she wailed over Miss Katie’s body. “Damn, why?”
Deedee tried to hug Coco but the bodyguard came and pulled her away.
“We gotta go. The ambulance is on its way. I think she can handle it from here,” he said.
“Let me go.” Deedee ordered. “I have to stick around. Coco is going to need me. After these two ah…bimbos on the elevator jumped us and when the police come I’ll have to…”
“It’s all good, Dee. It wasn’t your beef to begin with. Kim and I have been going at it for a minute now.”
“What about the other girl with her? She shot at us.”
“Dee, I appreciate it and all, but you don’t have to get involved any further. I told you, this bullshit been going on between them two and me, ever since that nigga, Deja’s been murk.”
“Deja?”
“Call me I’ll tell you later.” The girls hugged and Coco sat next to Miss Katie’s body.
On the street, Deedee stepped into the parked Range Rover and watched as the police led the way into the building with firefighters and the EMTs in the rear.
TWO
Coco winced from the pain that she felt in her chest. The slow moving emergency teams, toying around with their equipment, appearing unsure, was too annoying.
“Please yo, yo please what’re y’all doing bout her yo?” Coco asked feeling a sharp pain searing her stomach. She folded her arms and watched the police fan out, sniffing for a lead. The paramedics looked dumbfounded.
“For real for real, y’all gotta start doing’ sump’n, Miss Katie could die, yo. C’mon, already, yo,” Coco said, watching the paramedics stare at each other then at her. “What da fuck, am I the only one around here who understands English? There’s an old lady laid out on the floor and y’all need to get busy and do sump’n. Do y’all jobs and stop looking at the hood rats!”
“Young lady, please get back in your apartment and watch yourself, you don’t want to see the inside of a cell tonight,” an approaching officer said.
“I don’t care. Tell humpty and his corny ass pal, dumpy in those damn paramedics uniforms to start acting like they came here to save lives not grab ass. All they be doing since they got up in here is staring at every bitches’ ass, when they should be doing sump’n to save this lady.”
“Okay, okay, but please calm yourself. Turn it down a notch. We must make sure the area is safe. The medics must feel secure before anything else happens. Now you wouldn’t want either of these medics to be ah, shot while doing their job, saving a life, right?” The officer sarcastically asked while menacingly spinning his nightstick.
Coco made a face, sulked and turned away. The officer nodded to the paramedics and they went to work on Miss Katie.
“Possible heart attack,” the paramedic yelled into a hand held radio. “Victim is African American, approximate age sixty-five. There does not appear to be any visible gunshot wounds.”
Coco could feel the tightness increasing in her chest as she realized that there would be no one else to share her deepest feelings. She was caught up in the memories of Miss Katie as the officer tried to get her attention.
“Who had guns?”
“Was she shot?”
“Were you a witness?”
“What was she doing alone in the hallway?”
“Was this a stick-up?”
Coco remained tightlipped despite hearing the questions. She cringed as she witnessed the EMTs’ attempts to revive Miss Katie. Their actions were almost brutal. One minute they were shifting the body this way, then another way. Tears continued to roll down Coco’s cheeks while she listened to the paramedics shout above the curious crowd.
“Coming through! Coming through!”
“Make way! Give us some room people!” The paramedics were rolling Miss Katie’s immobilized frame on a two-man stretcher. Coco closed the door to Miss Katie’s place and followed the paramedics to the elevator just as the door closed. She raced down the stairs.
In the lobby, she slid by police officers interviewing neighbors about the shooting incident. She ran after the paramedics but the uniformed officers would not let her get close to the ambulance.
“Are you a relative?” One of the medical technicians asked while placing a breathing apparatus over Miss Katie’s nose and mouth.
“I… I’m her relative. She’s like… ah she’s ah my grand-mother…”
“Do you know if she’s got medical coverage?”
“I guess… ah… I mean I could check.”
“What do you know?”
“Look, just give me a list of whatever you need and I’ll get it for you. Please get her to a hospital!”
“Alright, alright, cool it, we’re only here to help, not to have a fight,” the technician said, then wrote on a sheet and gave it to Coco. “Here, call this number and the operator will let you know the hospital where she’ll be admitted. Bring everything on the list to that hospital.”
“Done,” Coco said and took the note. “Take care of her, please.”
“Back up, please.”
The technician slammed the door. Coco stood with her arms folded, watching and praying until the ambulance disappeared from her view. Coco felt her strength sapped, as if the whole building had just collapsed on her. Her heart tightened with fear as her tears came in a rush. She ingored the call of an officer. Coco lit a cigarette and