The King Has Fallen

by Brian W.

My name is Drew Hansberry. Back in 1968, I hung out with my friend Paul quite often. I would usually go to his house after school, when his mother was not there. His dad enjoyed my company, but his mother was the complete opposite. One day back then, I called up Paul to see if his mother was home. I got the okay, and started to make my way over to his house. I reached Paul’s front door, and knocked. I was greeted by a vicious swing of the door, and Paul’s mother stood there, right before me. She had a rifle the size of a car in her hands. In shock, I stammered, “He-hello, Mrs. Collins. I was just coming over to talk to Paul, and--”

Before I could finish my sentence, Mrs. Collins pointed the gun at my face and said, “You have ten seconds to get the hell off my property before I blow you away. Now leave!” Running as quickly as I could, I heard her yell, “And my boy ain’t allowed to talk to coloreds!”

*****

School was tough for me the next day. Paul was undoubtedly my best friend, even if he was white. If his father was fine with our friendship, how come his mother could not be? It was not fair. Not at all. I can still remember the feeling I got when I saw his mother the day before. My heart sank into my feet, and the blood drained from my head. I could have fainted right then and there. The day after the incident, I saw my friend Joey outside of the school. Joey was definitely not a straight-A student, and he was into other things, such as girls and sports. I really needed to calm down, so I went against my better judgment and asked Joey for a cigarette.  

Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Aw, so now you’re gonna crack? Thought the goody-two shoes was too cool and smart for a cig.”

“Just give it here.”

“Whatever you say, amigo.”

He gave me the cigarette and a light. I took my first puff and coughed my lung up.

“You know you should take it easy on your first try.”

I threw the abomination on the ground, but not before Principal Jones caught me.

“Mr. Hansberry, what is that?”

“Um, well I was feeling really nervous and--”

“My office. Now. There will be no smoking on my school grounds!”

I wondered how Joey was nowhere to be found, but then I realized that he was probably a master at getting away from trouble. The guy sniffed, smoked, and snorted anything he could get his hands on, so he was certainly more than proficient at hiding.

“Drew, look at me when I am speaking to you! You must understand that cigarettes are a very dangerous thing! Do you want to die of lung cancer?”

“No, sir.”

“If I ever see drug activity related to you again, you will serve the consequences.”

“Yes, sir.”

I apologized to Principal Jones, and I got an expulsion warning. I was never going to try that again.

*****

Getting home from school, my first instinct was to call Paul. But I had a second thought. What if Paul was trying to set me up? I didn’t think that he would betray me like that. I tested my luck and called him anyway.

“Is it cool?” I said.

“Yeah, and I’m really sorry about last time. My mother got back home when you were on your way there. If she comes back this time I’ll go outside and warn you.”

“Well, thanks. See you in about ten.”

*****

On the way to Paul’s house, I saw a man with a rifle aiming at a black dog. The dog looked scared, so I had to help it.

“Hey! Why are you gonna shoot that dog?”

“This god-damned dog tried to do its business in my yard!”

“That’s not a reason for you to kill it!”

“Even still, it has rabies.”

“But it doesn’t look like it has rabies.”

“Well I don’t like it, and it’s trying to mess up what I have perfected. It’s done!”

BANG!

“No!”

“Stupid dog! Get off my property, boy.”

I ran away to Paul’s, thinking about what I had just let happen.

*****

I arrived shortly after, and I knocked on Paul’s door.

“Hey, come in here,” he beckoned.

“Hello, Mr. Collins.”

“Hey, Drew!” the big guy said with a welcoming tone.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It sure has. How is your sister?”

“Oh, she’s great, thanks for asking. Just starting up high school. Freshman year has been good, or at least that’s what she tells me.”

“Tell her I send best wishes!”

“I certainly will, Mr. Collins.”

Paul and I walked back to his room. On the way there, I noticed a note that stuck out on his kitchen table. In Paul’s room, I didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying. I was extra focused on that note. What if it had something about his mother threatening me on there? On my way out, while Paul was talking to his father, I crept into their kitchen and picked up the note. The note read:

“I will be killing him on the fourth of April. Be ready with the supplies. I want this to be as clean as possible. No one must know about this, or I will get rid of you and them too. -JER”

*****

My mother left us when I was four years old. My sister was two, and had no recollection of her. My recollection was great, even to only really remember one year with her. We had lots of fun together, and sometimes she would even make us my favorite: Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup, which was new at the time. Another favorite that Mother would make was Dark Dutch Fudge. We all loved my mother so much, and my sister was even saying, “I love you.” Life felt great with her around. But even the brightest stars burn out eventually. I cried and cried when she left us, and I knew I would never see her again. My last memory of her was her grave, reading “Gina Hansberry, Mother and Wife, 1920-1955.” She had died of lung cancer.

*****

I went back over to Paul’s house to see if there was another note. But before I could do that, I had to go through the usual greetings and small talk. After getting past the year of talking that Paul and his father did, I set all my focus on their kitchen. I run-walked to the table, and right as rain, there was another note. This time, it read:

“There is no going back now. It’s going to happen, no matter what. Be ready on Thursday. You will come to pick me up and take me across the street from the Lorraine Motel. You try and get out of this, and the body count will be doubled. See you soon. -JER”

There wasn’t a drop of blood in my head at that point. I blacked out, but I didn’t really. I can’t even describe what was happening to me. All I knew was one thing: I had to try and stop this. I could not let someone die. But I didn’t know how to stop it. I could ask Paul’s mother about it, but that was just a death sentence. I could tell Paul, but there was no way he would keep his mouth shut, and that would involve lots of trouble for both of us. I took a deep breath, and thought, I have to go with them.

*****

“So Linda, you know how important today is?”

“Why of course, Jimmy.”

“Please, call me James.”

“Whatever. So how do you know this is going to work?”

“Hope. A hell of a lot of hope. If King isn’t dead when this day is over, we best be packing our bags.”

I thought to myself, What if they’re planning to kill Dr. King?

“Okay. Well anyways, here we are. You getting out or not?”

“Don’t rush me. But I think we should have a drink.”

“Cheers.”

And that’s when the trunk opened.

*****

The light pierced the blinding darkness of the trunk. I was greeted yet again by Mrs. Collins. Her face went from joyful and anxious to furious and homicidal in seconds. It was over. The end. Game over.

“What the HELL are you doing here, Drew!?”

“I’m here to save my leader.”

I jumped out of the trunk, zooming past Mrs. Collins. I ran to James, and cocked my fist back. Then I hit the ground. I felt like there was water running down my leg. I looked down, and my shorts were completely soaked in blood. My blood. This was really where it was going to end. At the feet of my best friend’s mother, meters away from the future murderer of Martin Luther King, Jr. I looked up to her, with the same rifle in my face. I then looked over at James, and I noticed he was gone. There was no stopping him now.

“You made a giant mistake, boy. Looks like it will be your last. But hey, maybe you can talk to your mother in Hell with all those other coloreds.”

BANG!!!

James came running out of the hotel with a look of success on his face. That was it. King was sure to be dead. I let this happen. And I would be joining him soon.

“Linda! I did it. I shot him. Now we have to go. There’s no time to take care of the kid.”

“Get away, boy. Bring up one syllable of this happening, and your head is going on my wall.”

I got up, and scurried off with a limp into the bright night.  

*****

My whole world changed. All my life, I had trusted whites. I had white friends. My best friend was white. But now whites had betrayed me. A white man killed Martin Luther King, Jr. A white woman shot me. My mother had always warned me. She told me to not get too attached to white people, and that they will just turn their back on you eventually. James and Mrs. Collins broke my trust, and it would be a long time before I got it back. I couldn’t allow myself to be hurt again, whether physically or mentally.

*****

“Paul, I just think that we should stop talking. Your mother is too much of a danger to me. She already held me at gunpoint and threatened to shoot me.”

I looked down at where the bullet had grazed my leg.

“Oh my gosh, Drew. I’m so sorry, and I understand completely. If you ever think that maybe we could try and work things out with my mother, you know you can always call.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

click.