This Is My America(38)
I look her dead in the eye and tell her the truth about where I hid. Tell her I was scared it was the killer, not the cops, which is true enough. But I don’t tell her about the phone. I want to see it for myself before I turn it over to Beverly. And only Beverly. Then I go over the exact path I walked.
“I noticed blood on the grass, leading to the building.” I point out the blood that was out in the open, not marked off with police tape. “I followed the trail to the building.”
Officer Clyde pulls out his report, flipping the paper back and forth. Then calls out to Beverly, “This wasn’t in the report. We need to call this in. Did you touch any of it?”
I shake my head no. Heartbeat racing that maybe this could help Jamal. Then they’d be forced to look closer at the evidence.
Even though I want to stick around and see what happens, I’m shaken up. I’m glad I’m able to say I got out of here.
Alive.
It’s like a tight cork has wound itself inside me since they came after Jamal. I know it won’t be long before that cork winds tight again, but at least there’s relief for a moment.
When I’m safely in my car, I reach for Angela’s phone. I brush it off and turn the power button on.
BABY GOT BACK BURNERS
The power shuts off almost immediately. Dead battery. But not before I see I need a passcode. Dirt and grime fill every crevice. I blow into Angela’s dead phone, each breath a lifesaving wish it’s not destroyed. I shove the phone back in my pocket, the weight of all its possibilities burning through my clothing, onto my skin.
Now that I’m out of danger, Beverly should be the one I hand this off to, but I don’t want to lose the opportunity to look first. Especially if it could cast doubt on Jamal’s innocence.
I pull up to my house, see Mama’s pacing out on the stoop. She must know what happened if she left work and has been waiting on me.
“Answer your phone, girl.”
“I was at school.”
“School’s still in session.” Mama’s lips quirk to the side. “But here you are. They called to say you were absent…and I spoke to Beverly.”
Damn. I bite my lip.
“She said you almost got arrested out by the Pike.” A flash of the officer’s gun on me takes over my thoughts. My heart speeds up. Mama doesn’t look like she knows about that. Beverly must’ve kept that part from her. Shame also runs through me that after all my Know Your Rights workshops, the sight of the gun threw everything I knew out the window.
“Why can’t you stay out of trouble? I don’t need you getting into any, not now. Go find yourself a hobby or something.”
“I’m on the school newspaper.”
“One that pays and keeps you out of trouble.”
“I’ll look.” I mean it. We can’t keep up with the bills only with Mama’s wages.
Mama gives me a hug when I reach her. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, Mama. I just had to look. See it for myself.”
Mama squeezes my hand, then shakes her head. “Dr. Scott from the community center called. She was asking if you doing a workshop tomorrow—there were a couple of calls. I said you’d probably cancel.”
I pause. I should. I’ve got so much going on, but I’ve never missed doing a monthly workshop in over a year. Even if nobody shows up. Daddy said to do something. I can do this.
“I’ll call her back and let her know it’s still on.” I rush in the house before she asks me more about the Pike.
Upstairs I search through Jamal’s room for his iPhone charger for Angela’s phone. Then pull out the burner, see if Jamal sent another message since I deleted his last. Nothing.
I go online for how to crack the most common phone passwords. Clicking on a page about password generators, I review the list of password structures. Graduation, anniversaries, pets, kids, and birthdays are the most common.
I check Angela’s social media for anything like those I can play off. Her birthday stands out first, July 14. Like the date in Jamal’s notebook. I enter several number iterations, then use 0714.
Angela’s home screen pops up, and my eyes widen. I study it for a moment, make sure this isn’t a dream, before adjusting the settings to airplane mode with location services off.
First, I check Angela’s call log. The last two dialed are 911 and Jamal’s number; after those are several missed calls from Jamal. The most recent answered call, however, is from Chris. One minute and twenty seconds, another, two minutes and five seconds. All around ten in the evening Tuesday. My stomach sinks because this is the kind of evidence the police need. I hope that her phone bill can provide it for them, too. If they think to look.
Then I go through her text messages, finding a thread between her and Jamal. They texted multiple times a day. A surge in my stomach pulls; I feel betrayed I didn’t know this was happening between Jamal and Angela.
JAMAL 4/26:
I thought about what Tracy asked. Talking about my dad’s case on air isn’t the right place.
ANGELA 4/26:
But you said Tracy was right? This could get national attention.
JAMAL 4/26:
It’ll just make my moms mad. Chris’ll shut you out. He’s already angry.