Tyler Johnson Was Here(25)

I throw on one of Tyler’s hoodies, which is stained with his cologne—it’s too big, but I need it to consume me, to remind me that he’s still out there.

In the car on the way to the station, Mama and I don’t say a word. She just sobs as I stare out the window, looking at the lights, and the stars, and the people, too. I can see her glancing at me through the reflection in the window, but we keep quiet, and her silence makes me wish this hoodie really would swallow me into a black hole.





When we get to the police station, two cops escort us to the detective’s office, walking us through a long hallway, passing other offices on both sides. The offices look like tight glass boxes, letting me see inside them. Some of them are neat, while others are messy as shit, papers everywhere. Voices come through on walkie-talkies, and some cops type on computers. Many of them are just standing with each other in the hallway, staring Mama and me up and down.

We pass by a wall full of photos of missing people in Sterling Point. There’re so many of them, so many of them black and brown, and it gets harder and harder to breathe. When we get to the detective’s office, a man in a fancy suit with an American flag tie shakes Mama’s hand. He offers Mama and me hot chocolate and those mini bottles of water.

I take a deep breath before I chug down my entire bottle. Fuck slow sips.

Mama starts to explain everything, but the detective stops her to say that he was the one who she spoke to on the phone. Then he looks square at me. He puts this sneaky smirk on his face and opens his mouth as he extends his hand. All I can smell is coffee on his breath, and his sweaty palm grips mine.

“And what’s your name?” He’s talking to me like I’m some little kid. This is already some bullshit, man.

I tell him my name anyway.

“I’m Detective Conaway.” He pauses, pointing to his name tag on his desk, papers scattered everywhere on top of it. “I’ll try not to keep you two here all night. Okay?”

We don’t say anything. I can tell even Mama is ready to slap his smiling ass.

“Well, Marvin, you know that you’re essential to the whole investigation, right?”

Mama starts to say something, but he interrupts her.

“I mean the investigation for the party and finding your brother. We need your help to put all the pieces together. How does that sound?” He’s still fucking smiling at me. I’m not in the fucking smiling mood.

He takes my nonresponse and says, “Okay, let’s get started, shall we?” He shuffles through manila folders on his desk and pulls out a blank notepad and a blue pen.

“Why aren’t you sending some of these people to find my son?” Mama asks thickly in such a pleading voice. “They ain’t doin’ nothin’ but standing around.”

“I understand your concerns, but, Mrs. Johnson, this is standard procedure,” the detective says. “We have to know the facts so we know what we’re dealing with. Besides, we can’t go looking for any missing person when we don’t even know where to start our search.”

“Can you just ask your questions already?” I say. They both look at me with widened eyes, like they thought I’d snuck out in the middle of their conversation.

The detective clears his throat, reclines in his chair, adjusts his tie, and begins. “Mr. Marvin Johnson, your brother’s name is Tyler, huh? And you both attend Sojourner Truth High School?”

“Tyler Jabril Johnson,” I reply. Naturally, my voice cracks. “And yeah.”

He writes it down and pulls out a recording device. “Standard procedure,” he adds. “So… you and your brother were at the party in the abandoned Pic-A-Rag building?”

I hesitate to answer, afraid of saying the wrong thing. He’s talking about the fucking party, and all I want is a full city sweep. Everyone should be looking for Tyler.

“Is this how all this gon’ be?” Mama says. “’Cause I ain’t bring him here to talk about no party. You got questions? Okay, but make sure they’re relevant to finding my boy.” I can feel all the emotion in her voice, just like I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

The detective’s face gets all red and flushed, but he turns back to me. He asks me a bunch of other questions, like if I know Johntae, whether or not I knew about the guns and drugs in the building, about the raid. And now he’s asking me if I’m in Johntae’s gang.

I pause, feeling the entire world as it spins faster. I know Mama will be heartbroken to hear the truth.

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “No. But Tyler is.” I try my best not to look at Mama, but I hear her gasp, her shaky breath. For years, she tried her best raising us so that we wouldn’t give in to the streets.

Detective Conaway leans forward like I’ve just given him the golden answer. “Excellent.”

Excellent? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is Tyler being in a gang like a pass to not look for him? Just because he fell for the gang life doesn’t mean he’s not savable, that he’s not worth risking everything for.

I pick up the hot chocolate and try to swallow some.

“If I asked you to write down all of the people your brother hangs out with, could you do that for me?”

I look at Mama and she has her head in her hands, and I can tell she’s beating herself up inside as much as I am about losing him at the party when I told myself I’d keep an eye on him. I look back at the detective and nod.