The Chain Link Fence

Everywhere I go, there is a chain link fence. I haven’t decided whether I love or hate that fence—it’s always there. It’s something I’ve grown accustomed to.

I didn’t always love this chain link fence. I used to hate it. As a girl of color, that chain link fence wouldn’t let me go to school. That chain link fence kept me sitting at home, playing only in my backyard, hiding away from the rest of the white, white world. It’s not as though I couldn’t climb over it, it wasn’t as though I couldn’t tear the damn thing down if I wanted to. The chain link fence wasn’t what I hated.

That same chain link fence is what kept me in school as well, once that first chain link fence was torn down and shredded of its meaning. This chain link fence kept me from skipping the classes I had no interest in, from playing hooky and leaving the school altogether. This chain link fence told me that someone always knew where I was. It reminded me of my parents and teachers, and I resented it. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have the power to open the lock on the gate. It wasn’t as though I couldn’t make up an excuse, and the teachers would open it for me. The chain link fence wasn’t what I resented.

That chain link fence followed me around. It witnessed my first kiss in the parking lot of my high school eight blocks away from the previous chain link fence. It saw me try my first cigarette, it knew that I spit it out in disgust. Its gate opened for me when I went through my first break up, and it supported me when I saw the same guy kissing another girl in that very same parking lot. It prevented me from causing a lot of injury in my first fight, and it watched me meet another guy in college. It seemed to disappear, though, after that. Soon I had forgotten that chain link fence altogether.

Tonight, I wasn’t thinking about a chain link fence. I was thinking about my boo as I put on my lipstick and eye shadow. I was thinking about how much he must love me as I put on the jewelry he’d bought me. I was thinking about his large hands and dark, dark eyes as I shrugged into my denim jacket and pushed the sleeves up to my elbows. On second thought, I’d better ditch the jacket.

I paid no thought to the chain link fence as I walked from my dormitory to the street, and I thought nothing about the chain link fence as I settled into the car he’d helped me buy. There was only one chain link fence that I needed to confront, and it was the one separating me from my boo.

I parked the car. I got out, straightened my clothes a little, put on a sheer lip gloss, and headed up the stairs to my boo’s apartment. I knocked. No answer. I knocked a little harder. Still no answer. Muttering curses on my stupid boo, I reached above the doorway and found the spare key. Suddenly, I heard noises.

“Boo?” I asked tentatively, but it became evident that I would not be heard.

“Shut up!” a loud voice interrupted me from inside. “Shut the hell up and give me what I paid for!” There was some colorful language interweaving the words, and I quietly put the key back where it belonged.

“You didn’t pay for nothing, you piece of worthless trash.” That was my boo. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “You know you didn’t, too. You and your good-for-nothing friend can get the hell out of my apartment, you hear me?” My boo sounded mad, real mad. Madder than I’d ever heard him before, and there were a couple times when I’d made him pretty mad.

“I want my—” the first voice began, and I could tell he was a white guy by how he spoke.

“Out!” bellowed my boo, and I heard a metallic click followed by more colorful language from both people. I froze outside the doorway. Was that a—?

“Give me what I paid for, damnit!” shrieked the white guy, and another voice popped in. I was surprised to hear that it was a woman’s voice.

“KJ, I think we should go, hun, I don’t wanna be part of no gun fights, you hear? Let’s just go back to the house and we can use the rest of my stash, okay? Let’s go, KJ, please,” she sounded small, and white. I felt suddenly bad for her. Was this her boyfriend here making threats against my boo?

“Shut up!” KJ screamed, and there was a thud and a wimper. Aw, hell no, he did not just strike his girl, I thought. It’s time to break this thing up, yes, it is. The two men were yelling so much that I couldn’t distinguish what was being said anymore.

“Boo!” I called, entering the apartment with a cheery smile on my face. “Boo, we were gonna—”

Six loud bangs interrupted me, and I watched each of those six bullets enter the bodies of a lanky, jittery white guy and a small, soft-featured white girl. Red stains erupted from their chests, staining white t-shirts. My boo stepped into view, staring at the bodies, holding the gun. Then he saw me.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” he said angrily, and his dark, dark eyes bored into me, his large hands still casually holding the gun.

I knew he’d committed murder. I knew where the police station was. I knew where I had to go.

I slowly pulled off my heels and set them down, staring at the two bodies. I wondered how pale I looked.

“Boo, you have to tell the police about this,” I said shakily. My boo stared at me as if I’d just spoken Spanish, which we both knew he didn’t understand.

“The police? What the hell are you talking about, baby? I can’t go to no police with this! Come here and help me get rid of these bodies.” He turned his back to me and started rummaging the pockets of the white man, KJ. He pulled out a wallet, ruffled through it, and pulled out several hundred dollar bills. Inside me, my heart sunk. My boo was a common thief.

Not just a thief, my mind murmured. A murderer.

I approached quietly, holding out my hand. “Give me their ID’s. I’ll get rid of them, ‘kay?” I said shakily.

My boo smiled, and suddenly that smile I loved so much seemed to look wicked, utterly wicked. “That’s my girl,” he grinned, handing me KJ’s wallet and searching the girl’s pockets. He handed me her tiny little purse. It looked like it probably couldn’t hold more than her ID and a couple of makeup items. I pitied her immediately. I pulled out both of their licenses and wandered over to my own purse near the door.

“Where are you gonna put their bodies?” I asked, though I really didn’t want to know. “You’ll have to think of something clever, ‘cause you know the police are gonna be looking.”

My boo looked at me sharply, but I kept my face smooth. “I was thinkin’ of the nature preserve outside of town.”

“You’ll wanna make sure the bullets aren’t in them anymore,” I said matter-of-factly. I hated that my mind was working like a criminal, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to distract him. “And make sure you get rid of the weapon, too. You can throw it in the river, I suppose,” I said.

Again, that wicked grin. “That’s my baby! Good thinking! Now you go and burn those wallets out back while I get these two ready for our trip. Is your car here?”

“Yeah, it’s parked out front,” I said, tossing him the keys from my purse. As I did so, I took out my own ID, two hotel keys, and my cellular, and shoved them in my back pocket before heading outside. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

I casually walked outside and closed the door tightly. I was fully aware that I was still barefoot, and even more aware that the neighbors were wondering what the hell was going on over here. Well, they’d know soon.

I walked down six doors to my friend Mikey’s apartment and knocked quietly. “Mikey, it’s me, Chanelle. Please open the door quietly, Mikey, this has gotta be quick!” I whispered urgently, glancing down the way at my boo’s apartment.

Mikey opened the door swiftly and pulled me inside. “What the hell is going on, Chanelle?” he whispered to me, reaching for the lights. “Did you hear those gunshots?”

“Leave the lights off, Mike, I don’t want him coming over here knowing you’re awake, ‘kay?” I could barely see Mikey’s face, but he looked alarmed. “Listen to me very carefully. I want you to call the police and tell them there’s been a murder. Tell them there’s a witness who’s gonna get over to the station as quick as possible, and she’s got the victim’s IDs. Tell them my cellular number, and tell them to get their asses down here before he takes off. He’s gonna try to hide their bodies in the nature preserve if they don’t get here in time, and he’ll have gotten the bullets out and thrown them and the gun in the river. When you’re done with the call, stay low. Pretend to go back to sleep. You hear me?” I was shaking by now. Mikey put his hands gently on my shoulders.

“I hear you. I knew he’d be nothing but trouble. It broke my heart when I heard you were with him,” he said quietly.

“Go on, Mike, call the police. I’m gonna get out of here,” I whispered. I opened the door and glanced down the way. No one there. I hopped down the way and started down the stairs. The pit was back a ways, so I treaded carefully. My left foot caught a little bit of glass which made me hiss in pain, but I endured. I got to the pit and started to stir it up a little, building up the fire so that it’d be nice and hot. I pulled out the hotel keys. He’d never know the difference once they burned. He wouldn’t want to know their names, either, so he wouldn’t look closely.

As I expected, he came down after a bit in a clean outfit and watched me toss the hotel keys in. He praised me for being so cool about the situation before heading back up to start digging the bullets out of his victims. I nodded and smiled, and said I’d be out for a while to make sure the IDs were good and burned and unrecognizable. He accepted my explanation.

As soon as he was out of view, I counted to sixty before standing up and sneaking as best I could over to the street. I couldn’t use my car—I’d given him the keys for collateral. I didn’t want it anymore, either, since it was his dirty money that helped me buy it. I made it to Green Street and that was when I really hauled. I ran faster than I think I ever ran for track, and my heart thumped and thumped and thumped. I was only a couple of miles from the station, but it seemed to get farther and farther…

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car behind me. It was the familiar purr of my own vehicle, only this time, it seemed to be more menacing than usual. Probably because of who was driving it. My heart stopped.

There was my boo, parking my car on the side of the road and climbing out with murder in his eyes.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asked calmly, and my heart restarted its beating in a frenzy.

“I—I just really needed to clear my head, boo,” I said calmly. ”So I went for a run.”

“To the police station? You can’t fool me, bitch!” he yelled at me, grabbing my arms and shaking me. He squeezed hard, and I felt bruises forming.

“What the hell? I wasn’t going to the station, you idiot! I can’t turn you in—I just helped you get rid of evidence!” I said angrily. Terror was ripping through me. I tried to channel it to make my argument plausible. “They can’t charge you without charging me, too, boo,” I said more quietly.

“Then why the hell were you running?” he said.

“You know running helps me clear my head,” I retorted. I wished he’d release my arm. “Bastard. If you can’t remember my name, I suppose you wouldn’t remember that either. How many other girls are you with, anyway?”

Pain exploded over my face as he slapped me with full-force. “Bitch!” he screeched at me, and I could hear something of a terrified twelve-year-old trapped in this twenty-one-year-old body. I wasn’t surprised that he’d hit me. It was just the sort of thing he’d do. I couldn’t stop myself from going on.

“You didn’t let me go because I’m the only one of those girls who’s worth anything. When I didn’t put out, you thought, ‘Ah, it’s all right, because she won’t leave me, and she won’t find out, and she won’t ask questions.’ And you’re right. I wouldn’t have found out. I wouldn’t have left. I wouldn’t have asked questions. So am I still worth it, or are you gonna call some of your skanky friends to help you out with this murder thing?” I looked him dead in the eye, and his expression told me exactly what I thought it would. His skanky friends wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving him. I, on the other hand, was a gamble he’d have to take.

“Breathe a word, bitch, and I’ll kill you, too.”

I said nothing. He grabbed the back of my neck and painfully dragged me to the car. I was incensed. He had no right to treat me so, he had no right—

“Get your dirty hands of me!” I shrieked. “Keep mistreating me and I will go to the police, see if I don’t!”

That was the wrong thing to say. My boo threw me against the car. I felt more bruises forming on my back, and there was a bump swelling on the back of my head. I scrambled away from him.

“Bitch!” he yelled, over and over, coming over to strike at me. I ducked, and he hit my arm, where more pain blossomed. “You’re getting’ what’s always been coming to you, you selfish, cold-hearted bitch!”

There was nothing in my mind but pure terror and adrenaline, and I ducked another three punches before finally retaliating. Self-defense classes and kick-boxing finally paid off. I kicked out and hit him in the chin with my bare heel. His head snapped back and he stumbled back, looking dizzy. I scrambled to my feet and tore down the street. I knew I could outrun him. The question was, how could I escape him if he thought to take the car? It was cold, and had begun to rain. I wished I’d brought my denim jacket.

Three streets down, an answer to a prayer awaited. I sprinted, my heart ready to explode, and took a right. Before me was a chain link fence, standing silently. I nearly cried with relief and climbed over. Behind me I heard a car swerve, and I have to look back to know who it was. He slammed on his brakes at the sight of the fence. I heard the car door slam shut, and I knew he was climbing the fence, too. It didn’t matter, though, because the police station was just a quarter of a mile away.

“400 meters, Chanelle,” I thought in desperation. “You can sprint 400 meters. Just think of how nice this weather feels, now nice the rain feels against your hot skin. You’re so close, Chanelle, just run as fast as you possibly can.”

Suddenly, my world turned dark, and more pain lanced through my palms, elbows, knees. I was roughly turned over and my vision returned just in time to see a fist coming for me. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain.

“Chanelle! Chanelle!” I heard Mikey calling me. “Chanelle, are you all right?” I opened my eyes to see Mikey’s worried brown eyes staring down at me, rain water dripping from his gentle features, filling up his eyes—wait, no, those were tears, warm tears. I glanced behind him to see my boo wrestling with several muscled officers.

I realized that I was sobbing and gasping for air, and I felt my own warm tears mingling with the ones falling from Mikey’s face. His large body was sheltering me from the rain, leaning on the rough concrete on one elbow in order to use the other to wipe tears from my eyes, to gently move my hair out of my face.

“Mikey,” I breathed, I sobbed, “Mikey,” I whispered. He sat up and I tried to sit up, too, but he wrapped his strong arms around me and lifted me to his chest.

“Chanelle, I was so worried,” he said so kindly, so gently, and carried me to the station, followed by several officers. “I was here, waiting, I took the back way to the station and you weren’t there—if it hadn’t been for that fence, I don’t know if we would have made it—” he choked up, unable to imagine, or perhaps too able to imagine. I realized he must have been the one to stop that fist coming for my face.
Three weeks later, I visited that same street where a man I thought I loved almost killed me. I stared at that fence, remembering Mikey’s words: “If it hadn’t been for that fence…”

I breathed a sigh. Everywhere I go, there is a chain link fence. I haven’t decided whether I love or hate that fence—it’s always there. It’s something I’ve grown accustomed to. I approached the fence and curled my fingers around it, staring at where the car had stopped. That car, with two bodies crammed into the trunk, one named Kevin James “KJ” Bard, one named Marissa Lee Jones, a gun and six bloody bullets in a bag, and a man in the front seat who I called my boo. All that was behind that chain link fence, that silent preventer that saved my life.