“How do I get there! WHERE IS HE?” I screamed. Mama gathered me up in her arms and she drug me to the phone. She dialed 911. I struggled to get loose while she talked, but she held me tight. She told the police what was going on and where, and that a minor was involved in an assault.
“Come on,” Mama said. By this time all the other kids were in the living room. “Andre, I need you to drive us to Angel’s motorcycle shop. Do you know where?”
“I take Penny over there all the time,” he said.
“Not anymore!” Mama said. “Get your keys and let’s go!” She still had me calf-roped under her arm. We three got out of the house and into Andre’s car parked at the curb. His car was an old green car, rusted around the back tires. I got in the back seat. Andre got in and turned it over and it wouldn’t crank. He pumped the gas, tried it again, and it still wouldn’t crank.
“I smell gas,” I said, “it’s flooded. Mother used to have a car that did this. What you should do is push the accelerator all the way to the floor and hold it, then turn the key and let the engine turn until it cranks. It works, try it.”
Andre tried it and he turned the engine over until we thought it would explode, but sure enough, it caught and cranked, just like Mother used to do. I leaned up and held on to the front seat and Andre looked over at me and smiled.
“That’s the boy in me,” I said daintily.
“There ain’t a drop of boy in you, sweetie,” Mama said smiling.
“True,” Andre said. We pulled away in a cloud of white smoke.
Several blocks and a several turns later, we arrived at Xanadu Harley Shop just as the Indianapolis Police pulled into the parking lot. The lot was gravel and the tires made some dust in the head lights of both vehicles. The shop’s lights were off. There was just the one light on above the garage that shined on the metal red and white sign with the name of the shop on it. There were streamers from the apex of the building going down in two directions to long stakes in the ground. There were little signs on the streamers every couple feet that said “Sale!” There was one big wooden double bay door that had a row of four small windows just above head high. I jumped out of the car and ran toward the shop.
“Miss! Stay in your vehicle,” one of the police officer shouted. I got to the bay door and Angel or someone had padlocked it. I jerked on it anyway. I was too short to see into the windows.
“Get back in the car, child!” Mama said.
I jumped and grabbed the ledge of the little glass window with my finger tips and tried to gain a toed hold on the door. I saw into the glass and I saw Billy’s legs! I saw his legs! There was wall to wall motorcycles in the shop and Billy’s legs were in between two of them!
I jumped down and spun around. A big female police officer grabbed my arm. “He’s on the floor! My Billy’s lying on the floor! I saw his legs!”
There were two police, a man and a woman. She took me back to Andre’s car and told me to “sit and don’t move, little miss.” I nodded with her finger in my face. She seemed to be very serious. The male police officer got his long black flashlight out and shined it into the window.
“Get the cutters!” he told the female. She ran to the car, got the key and opened the trunk. Meanwhile he talked on that radio microphone on his shoulder. She ran back to the door with a pair of long handled thingies with jaws and cut the padlock. They swung the bay door open and I started out of the car but Andre jumped out and ran and caught me before I got three steps.
I sat back down in a gruff with my arms folded under my breasts.
“I have to kill the headlights, my battery will die,” Andre said after he sat back down. I understood, although disappointed. Mother’s old cars stranded us on the road many times.