Rufus was getting impatient.

He had been waiting for over twenty minutes now. He said to himself: “OK, she’s got to be here before I count to twenty-five.” One, two, three. . . . when he got to ten, he looked over his left shoulder one more time; thirteen, he glanced in the rear view mirror.

“Shit. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen,” he whispered; “ah, to heck with it.”

And he gave up the count. For the third time.

“Why does she do this?”

He was at pains to explain to Jenny that he wanted to beat the traffic and they had to leave EARLY. He had told her that he would pick her up in front of her building at 5:30AM sharp. Sharp. It was now five to six and she still hadn’t come downstairs.

Damn. Now here he was sitting in this car double-parked in the middle of the block.

Waiting. His favorite pastime. He winced at the thought.

He had been in such a great mood when he left home, and now he was pissed. He watched as a car pulled out from a parking space farther up the block, and he wondered whether he should grab the spot. Nah, no point in doing that, she would be down soon. He glanced in the rear-view mirror again. As he began to look away to turn his attention back to the dashboard clock, he saw the police cruiser turning onto the block. They were just cruising.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they made their way down the block.

They stopped about six car lengths behind him. What are they doing? he wondered. And where was Jenny? She had asked him NOT to call her that early as she didn’t want to disturb her parents, but now he felt he should. He scanned the block, peering at the corner to see if a telephone was around. Although he hated them, now he wished he had a cell phone.

He glanced in the rear-view mirror again. They were still there. He had the uneasy feeling now that they were watching him. He shifted his weight, turned himself so he could get his wallet in his back pocket. Knowing these pricks, he felt he should get his license and registration out in preparation for what he sensed was coming.

Suddenly, the cruiser was right behind him and he watched as the two cops got out of the car. He tried to contain himself. Relax, be cool, he told himself. One officer squeezed between his car and the car parked at the curb. The other moved nonchalantly along the passenger side of the car.

“What are you doing here?” asked the driver’s side cop.

Rufus had expected him to ask for his license or something and was taken aback by the question. He blurted out: “What do you mean what am I doing here? Don’t I have a right to be here?” Now it was the officer who expressed shock.

“What did you say? What did you just say to me?” Then over the car to his partner: “Did you hear what this nigger just said to me?” “Get out of the car.” he screamed at Rufus.

“And keep your hands where I can see them.” Rufus decided that this was getting out of hand. He was scared now. He decided to submit peacefully. Now he was blaming Jenny. If she had been on time this shit would not be happening. He was reaching for the door handle to open the door, when he felt the first blow at the side of his head. What the hell. . . Another blow. He felt his cheek bone split open. Blood. He was tasting his blood. Pain. His ears were ringing; he was seeing stars and the blows kept coming. He could not use his hands to ward them off.

Like an unwieldy sack of potatoes, he was being dragged head first through the window. His shoulders were stuck while his head and neck were exposed, and they were mercilessly beating him around the head and neck. Suddenly one officer grabbed his neck and began to choke him as he tried to pull him all the way out of the car through the window.

A small crowd had gathered and one officer rudely shooed them away. “What the #$$%$% are you all looking at? Get outta here.” As if by magic, four additional cop cars were suddenly on the scene.

Jenny heard the sirens at her elevator. She stabbed the buttons three more times in quick succession. She knew she’d be hearing a lot about her being late from Rufus. She resolved not to argue. And above all else she swore not to admit that when her alarm had gone off, she thought she would snooze for just five more minutes which turned into twenty-five. She figured if she apologized nicely and just let him get it out of his system, it wouldn’t last too long. The elevator came. She grabbed her suitcase and hurried in. Stop. Another stop. Why is it that when you’re in a hurry. . .

As soon as the door opened in the lobby, she grabbed her suitcase and hurried out onto the street. There was some kind of commotion to her left. Jesus, what are all these policemen doing here, she thought. Then she saw Rufus’ car. Instinctively, she dropped her suitcase and began running toward the scene. She saw a policeman with his arms around Rufus’ neck as if he was trying to strangle him to death. She screamed. “Oh my God! Ru-fusssss.” A police officer grabbed her. She kicked him and clawed her way out of his grasp and continued running toward the officer who was holding Rufus. She did not recognize Rufus. His whole head was a mass of red. His eyes were swollen to slits. One eyeball seemed to be coming out of his head. His nose was broken and torn off his face. All she could do was scream at the top of her lungs.

“Do you know this man?” one officer asked her. She screamed uncontrollably. “Miss, would you please try to calm yourself, he’ll be awright; are you related to him?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she said. “What did you all do to him? WHY? What the hell happened?”

Someone had called an ambulance. Rufus’ lifeless body was removed from the car and placed on the street. Jenny was restrained and not allowed to go anywhere near him as the paramedics checked his vital signs.

“What’s your name, Miss?” the officer asked Jenny. She noticed that his name was Clarke.

“Jennifer Maxwell.”

“Where do you live?”

“Right there, # 54.”

“That’s 54 Albany Avenue?”

“Yes.” Her head was killing her and she was feeling faint.

She saw the officer who was choking Rufus walk up to Officer Clarke and whisper something to him. She noticed that he had blood all over the front of his shirt and that his name tag announced that his name was D’Ambrosio.

The paramedics were placing Rufus into the ambulance. Jenny raced over to try to get in to go with him. She was forcibly stopped and thrown to the ground by another officer.

“Hey, hey, where do you think you’re going?”

At this treatment of Jenny, a small crowd of on-lookers, mostly black, began to yell at the cops. “He’s my friend, I want to go to the hospital with him.”

“Sorry, you can’t.” Sirens blaring, the ambulance sped off.

A small voice behind her whispered: “Come, I’ll give you a lift.”

She turned to see a short, graying, heavyset woman whom she had noticed from time to time in the neighborhood. She usually saw her burdened down with bulging grocery bags, making her way with great difficulty down the street. She wasn't even sure which building she lived in. She was surprised the woman even owned a car. But right now, she was grateful as hell that she did. “Hurry, my car’s up there,” the woman said, pointing up the street. “I think they’re going to Kings County.” Jenny rushed behind the woman and got into her car.

“My name is Rose Luca,” she said as she started the car. “I’m very sorry about your boyfriend.” “Thank you, I’m Jenny Maxwell. I really appreciate your doing this.” The car swerved out into the traffic, leaving a trail of blaring horns.

“Oh God, I can’t believe this. Do you know what happened?’’

“I didn’t see the whole thing,” Rose said between clenched teeth, “but I saw enough to know that those animals damn near killed him, if he is not already dead.”

“Oh please, don’t say that,” a wave of nausea passing through her. She couldn't think of that. Not for a moment. She had to get a grip on herself.

"I'm sorry, but you don't beat a dog the way those bastards beat that boy! Are you awright?" asked Rose. She felt a burning sensation and noticed the blood on her skirt was coming from her elbow.

Rose handed her a tissue.

"I'm OK," Jenny said, pulling herself together.

She sat in weepy silence, her confused mind searching for any possible explanation as to what could possibly have happened. Rufus was a good guy. Not one to provoke anyone. Could he have been in some kind of trouble he hadn't told her about? Was there another side to him she hadn't seen? No. Not Rufus. She trusted him more than anyone she had ever known. Anyone could trust him. She just wanted to know he was fine. Please, Lord, let him be OK.

From time to time Rose would clench her fists and slam them on the steering wheel. Each time she’d scream: “Damn, I hate them! Oh boy, how I hate those bastards.”

“Do you think he’s dead?” asked Jenny. “They couldn’t have killed him could they?”

Rose didn’t have to answer. Suddenly, Jenny was flooded with tears.

“It’s my fault,” she sobbed. “Jeeee-zus,” exclaimed Rose, “How is it YOUR fault?”

“I was late. I was supposed to meet him at 5:30.”

“Honey, don’t blame yourself. It’s their fault, and theirs alone. Here we are. Lemme find a parking spot; I think I’d better come in with you.” Rose noticed that the parking lot was swarming with cops. She parked the car and walked with Jenny back to the emergency room at the hospital. Again, there were cops all over the place. At the admitting window Jenny inquired about Rufus. He was in the operating room. After giving her name as next of kin, Jenny and Rose were shown to a waiting room and told to wait.

“Rose, thank you for all you’ve done. You don't have to wait with me; I can take it from here.” “Honey, it’s okay. Unless you definitely want me to go, I’ll stay with you, I know how these places are.”

“Okay, thanks. I have to find a telephone to make some calls. Gee, I left my suitcase on the sidewalk.” Jenny wandered off to call her mother to let her know what had happened and where she was. She also had to get in touch with Rufus’ sister. The question was, how? She had been going out with Rufus for about a year now and she had only met his sister twice, and both occasions were very brief. She was not sure that she liked his sister. She always had the odd suspicion that she felt that Jenny was not good enough for her baby brother. All she knew was that his sister was married to a rich guy and that they lived in the city. And she knew that they had a great place somewhere in the country. Rufus had taken her there for a weekend once when his sister and her husband were out of the country. She knew her first name was Holly, but she was not sure about her married name. Rawle something. Jenny was optimistic. She assured her mother that although Rufus appeared to be very badly beaten, she had everything under control. There was no need for either her or her father to come down to the hospital. She was with a friend, and as soon as she found out how Rufus was she would leave. She told her mother that as soon as she left the hospital she would go to the precinct to make a complaint about what had happened. She hung up the telephone and made her way back to Rose, still trying to remember Rufus’ sister’s last name.

As she turned the corner into the waiting room, she noticed three things.

Rose was talking to a man who was definitely a doctor. Rose’s eyes were filled with tears. As soon as Rose saw her, she ran toward her with her arms outstretched.

Rufus was dead.

The doctor was saying to Rose that Rufus had multiple facial fractures and a fatal basilar skull fracture which caused a massive subarachnoid bleed. What was this man talking about? As Jenny collapsed onto the floor, she remembered that Rufus’ sister’s last name was Rolston.

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