Entry #521206, added on 02-03-10 @ 10:57 pm EST
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| Part Two - Chapter One: Yellow Bandana | Entry #521206 |
From the Diary of Lisa Lansing - Age 21 - Missing and Presumed Deceased
Book One - Part Two
Yellow Bandana
by
L. A. Powell
Chapter One
May - 1976
I sat on the front stoop of Charles Nash Elementary school and wished for one of those little red diaries I had seen at Leonard Brothers Department Store near the downtown subway. While using notebook paper to jot down my feelings about Benji; my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Hampton approached me and asked, "Lisa Lansing, why are you still here?"
I don't know," I said. "My brother, Les, usually picks me up by now."
Mrs. Hampton liked me. I was one of her special readers assigned to an advanced English class for gifted children. While I thought myself neither gifted nor special, she doted over me at times.
"If she only knew," was my brother, David Lansing's favorite phrase whenever my family discussed Mrs. Hampton's interest in helping me. Mrs. Hampton did know that I lived in the Ripley Arnold Housing Projects on the western edge of downtown Fort Worth, Texas, and things did not always flow smoothly for some of the residents, especially the children. "Well, let me know if you need me to call someone." She turned away and entered the school with a skeptical, backward glance.
I watched as parents, older siblings and day-care workers in cars and vans parked, waited and picked up my fellow students, all progressing slowly from left to right along an extended circular driveway. After the last of my classmates had vanished, I wondered if something had happened. Les skipped school a lot, but never failed to get me on time. I scribbled on one edge of almost used up paper, then erased, then wrote and erased yet again. I gave it up. I sat for what seemed another hour. The scent of newly mowed grass floated by and I felt a deep distant rumble. I looked in that direction and saw a faraway wall of approaching clouds.
Finally, a powder blue car drove slowly along the curb of the driveway. Someone leaned out the passenger window as it approached. I recognized his long, lean torso and high forehead, enhanced even more by his light-brown hair, pulled tightly back into a pony tail. Richard White yelled, "Lisa", and I stood up.
"Come on," he said, waving his arm in my direction.
I picked up my bag and ran to the car. As I approached, I noticed David in the driver's seat, with Les in the back. Richard opened the passenger door and leaned forward. As he did, he pulled on the seat behind him.
David said, "Get in, Lisa. We're going to the Lucky-Mart."
"Whose car is this David?" I asked.
He ignored the question. "You want an ice cream cone or not?'
"Sure, I want one," I said.
I asked again, "Where did you get this car?"
David said, "Richard, lean the seat back. Lisa can sit between us on the
console." Richard did as suggested, and stepped out of the car to allow me to slide in beside David.
"David," I began again.
He cut me off. "It belongs to a buddy of mine, Lisa. He's letting me test drive it because I might want to buy it. I have a job you know."
Les leaned forward and said, "Turn the radio back up, Richard."
David drove us to the Lucky-Mart where our cousin Ed Harris worked. David and Ed, more like twins than cousins, had shoulder length, caramel-brown hair. They hung out all the time until Ed took the job at the convenience store. Still, David, for some reason managed to find the time to visit Ed often.
He parked and said to me, "Stay here."
"I want to come in, too," I said.
"Lisa, just wait here. We're in a hurry, we won't be long."
"But Les is going in."
"Damn it, just wait. We got things to do and you'll slow us down if you come in."
Richard and Les followed David inside the store.
I looked around at the car. Its soft, tan interior smelled fresh and almost new. The black dashboard shined as if it had just been polished. I slid over in the driver's seat and imagined myself driving. I heard tires squeal as two cars, both white with four doors entered the parking lot. I looked in that direction. I saw David come from the front of the store, he held a double-dipped ice cream cone in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. I smiled and he smiled back at me.
Les and Richard were still inside. As I looked at David, I noticed Ed Harris run from the store behind him and yell something. I heard two loud pops. They sounded like firecrackers and startled me. I heard two more pops and turned to look in the direction of the sounds. The two vehicles that had entered the parking lot moments before, screeched through the exit.
A man with a yellow bandana around his head leaned from the rear window of the car, waved a small pistol, and yelled angrily in the direction of the store. I couldn't understand what he said. He stared as they sped away. I never cared to learn what make or model of cars existed, I was still a little girl, after all; but both vehicles had their license plates covered with a dark gray tape of some kind.
I looked back at David; he had a blank expression on his face. He stood for a moment holding the cone, then fell to the ground. I jumped from the car and ran to him.
"David! What's wrong?"
David groaned and looked right through me, like I wasn't there. Blood oozed from his ear; there was a small hole just above the canal. I put my hand over it to try and make it stop. "David," I cried, "please talk to me."
I looked around. "Help us!"
I shouted to no one in particular, anyone. "Someone help my brother!"
I didn't notice Ed Harris on the ground until I heard him scream for David. He rolled back and forth with both hands holding his right leg. Two police cars rolled up next to us. Les and Richard ran to David.
"Oh, no, no," Les cried out. He fell to his knees beside David.
"David," Les said and lifted David's head to his lap. I sat back up, my faded yellow sundress, now stained with David's blood and vanilla ice cream. With David in his brother's arms, I noticed a pool of blood on the ground that had been underneath David. Les saw it as well, and first, felt all around David's stomach and chest. Then he reached to his side and rolled David slightly. A tiny hole in his tee shirt revealed torn skin and a small amount of blood in David's side. Another hole, just inches away, along David's back and about the same size was emptying blood rapidly.
"Oh God! Oh, no, David, David," Les wept loudly. I shook uncontrollably as I watched my two brothers, one bleeding from at least two gunshot wounds, one holding the other in his arms, crying.
David began to twitch and his eyelids fluttered. His eyes rolled back and I heard him gurgle.
I crawled over to Les. "Help him, Les, help him." My words faded; I felt faint.
Les glanced over at me. "Lisa!" He noticed the bloody mixture on me. He laid David's head back gently and grabbed me by both shoulders.
"It's from David, Les," I said and pulled away from him. I leaned forward and put my arms back around David's body.
I whispered, "David, be okay, please, be okay."
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© Copyright 2010 L. A. Powell (UN: lisapowell at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
L. A. Powell has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
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