Katherine got out of the car purely through instinct. There was someone in trouble--helping is what you were supposed to do, right? It wasn''t until she was on the sidewalk, walking toward the man and woman, saying loudly, "Leave her alone" and watching the man turn to face her that she realized she had absolutely no idea what to do next. None. It was then that her heart started pounding and a hot wave of fear tingled through her arms and legs. Up close, she could see the guy was taller and more muscular than he appeared from the safety of the van. He was maybe white, maybe light-skinned African American with a shaved head. An indecipherable neck tattoo peeked out from under his close-fitting, long-sleeved black T-shirt. She tried to burn a police description into her brain.
The woman yelled, "Call the police!" at the same time the guy said, "This is none of your damn business, lady " to Katherine. The utter disdain in his voice cleared everything out of her brain except one thought: This was such a mistake. This was such a stupid mistake . There was no way this could end well. For a split second, she imagined Hal and Anna without her, wondered if they would think her foolish for getting herself killed in this way. She heard Abra say softly, "Just let her go, man." Katherine could just see Abra off to her right. Margie had backed up, and the open doors of the van were only a few yards away.
She could faintly hear Margie''s voice, talking to 911 maybe? Knowing they were both nearby gave her a tiny bit more courage. Katherine took a tentative step toward the woman, who was kneeling by the fence. Her face was bloodied, the sleeve of her shirt ripped. "Miss?" she asked. She looked about nineteen or twenty. Not a woman. A girl. "Why don''t you come with us? We''ll give you a ride.
" "She don''t need a ride," the man said. The rest of the street seemed eerily quiet. Couldn''t someone else stop and help? Someone big? Someone male maybe? Katherine wasn''t that big, but she was big enough, strong enough. She could help. Slowly she extended her left arm. If the woman wanted to take her hand, she could. Katherine held the woman''s gaze, hoping she could silently convince her that leaving with some strangers was preferable to getting beaten up by her boyfriend. Katherine was so focused that she didn''t see the knife until it was against her arm, in her arm.
The man cut so fast that she hardly saw the blade, only the flash of metal against her pale white skin . It occurred to her that she needed to get out in the sun. Why am I worried about how pale I am? I just got cut. She felt the sensation of the blade slicing through flesh, felt a momentary spark of pain, and then the pain was gone. It happened faster than a flu shot--a quick prick, then nothing. The man only made one swipe, then stopped, triumphant, staring at her arm, expecting blood, expecting her to scream, to fall. There wasn''t any blood on her arm or the knife. No blood, just Katherine staring at him wide-eyed and unharmed.
Then the man was on the ground, hit from the side by.something, something Katherine couldn''t see. The knife dropped from his hands and landed near her foot. She kicked it away at the same time she heard Abra''s voice yell, "Run!" But where the hell was Abra? She must be in the van. Katherine couldn''t see her. Katherine said, "Come on" to the woman, who was now up and moving toward her. The woman needed no more convincing and was in the car before Katherine, even before Abra. Where had Abra been? How could she be the last one to pile into the minivan, yelling, "Go! Go!" to Margie, who was slamming on the gas before the door was even closed.
Nobody said anything for a moment. The only sound in the car was that of four women catching their breath, being glad they had breath left in their bodies. Then all of them simultaneously erupted into words of relief and fear, asking each other "Are you all right? Are you all right?" "Oh sweet mother, I can''t believe you all just did that," Margie said. "I thought--Katherine, I honestly thought he was going to kill you." "So did I," Abra said. "How the hell did he not cut you? How did he miss you?" "He didn''t miss me," Katherine replied quietly. Feeling fine seemed intrinsically wrong, but there it was. Unreal sense of calm? Yes.
Pain and blood? No. Before Margie or Abra could respond, the woman exclaimed, "Oh my God, thank you! Sean would''ve done me in this time, I know it. Y''all were like superheroes or something. You saved my life." The three women were quiet for a heartbeat. For the moment, the hyperbole of the phrase "You saved my life" was gone. It was arguably true. This was a new sensation.
Frightening and humbling. Then Margie said, "Shoot, I dropped the phone." With one hand on the wheel, she felt around in the great vortex of tissues, empty cups, and scraps of paper in the molded plastic section in between the two front seats. "I got it," Katherine said, coming up with the phone. The 911 dispatcher was still on the line, wondering what was going on. "Hello?" Katherine said. "We''re okay. We got away, the woman is safe.
We''re going--where are we going?" "Anywhere away from Sean," the woman in the back said. "There''s a police station right down the street at one hundred and fifth," Abra said. "Right, I know where that is," Margie said. A police car with the siren off but lights flashing came roaring down Chester Avenue in the opposite direction. "Was that for us?" Margie asked. "I think so," Abra said. Katherine hardly had time to explain what had happened to the dispatcher before they were at the station. There was a long hour-plus of giving witness statements to a jaded-looking police officer who told them several times how lucky they were to have gotten out of the situation with no harm done.
"What you three ladies did was very brave and very stupid," he said in closing. "We know," Abra replied. They were told they might be called as witnesses if the woman, Janelle, decided to press charges against her boyfriend. Then they were free to go. The three of them walked out of the police station and to the waiting minivan. It was nearing midnight, and the spring evening had moved from cool to downright chilly. Even so, none of them moved to get into the van. Margie unlocked it and opened the driver''s door, then just stood looking at the ground, one hand on the door, the other on the side of the van, breathing slowly.
Abra paced in a slow oval near the back of the van, while Katherine leaned against it and gazed up at the few faint stars that could be seen against the city lights. She suddenly wanted to be somewhere quiet, away from the city, away from people. Margie''s voice brought her back: "I''m sorry I didn''t do anything to help." What are you talking about?" Katherine said. "If it weren''t for you, we never would have gotten out of there." Abra walked around the van to Margie. "You were the only smart one. I''m sorry I got out of the car.
That was stupid." As Abra said this, she shivered, her lips trembled, and she started to shake. "That was so stupid." "I got out first," Katherine said. "I''m the stupid one." Katherine almost never saw Margie cry. Even when her eldest child was going through hell, Katherine had been amazed and admiring of her friend''s resilience. But now Margie seemed overwhelmed by heaving sobs.
"I''m just so glad the two of you are okay," Margie stammered. Crying people generally made her nervous, but Katherine joined Margie and Abra on the other side of the van. When your friends need you, they need you.