Third Man Out

In November of 1985, a twenty-one-year-old man walked up and down the waiting room floor in the Henry Hudson Hospital in Detroit, Michigan, with his wife’s mother, Mary, his wife’s sister, Vivian, and his wife’s grandmother, Beatrice. The grandmother, Beatrice, cried as she sat next to her daughter Mary. “Why them, why?” asked the young man.

“They’ll be alright, they have to be,” screamed Vivian.

The doctor slowly approached the waiting room. The young man ran toward him. “I’m sorry,” said the doctor to the young man, “the bullet went straight through your wife’s heart. She had lost too much blood. Your eleven-year-old daughter is in a coma,” said the doctor to Mary.

“A coma, oh no, God, my baby has to be all right,” said Mary. Mary caressed her son-in-law. “Oh no, God, no, one daughter is dead and my other daughter is in a coma. God please give me strength,” Mary said as she looked to God in heaven. The three stood there holding each other tightly as they wept. Beatrice the grandmother had had a stroke and was almost speechless. She just cried.

Vivian turned sadly looking at her brother-in-law as he asked the doctor, “May we see her?” The doctor nodded yes. The young man walked very slowly toward his dead wife’s room.

The young man and his mother-in-law were just standing together hugging each other before they entered her hospital room. The young man said to his mother-in-law, “I promise you this crime will not go unsolved. Just because my beautiful young wife and her sister were in the wrong place, they shouldn’t end up dead. This is senseless! You read about these drive-bys and gang slayings all the time. You feel some sorrow when you read it, you think for a minute, and you go on about your life living each day in your own world,” said the young man to his mother-in-law Mary. “But now, this is a part of our world, my world. This has shattered my life and my dreams,” he said. “All of our lives and dreams, our plans for children. She’ll never see me hit in the Majors,” he said as he started to break down again.

Vivian saw him break down and walked over to hug him and said, “The years my sister had with you she’s told me were the best of her life. As she looks down on us, she will be happy that you are happy. Please live your life,” said Vivian.

“I’ve said I will, but I am committed to her even in death.”

Vivian and Beatrice just looked and wondered what he really meant.

 The doctor asked, “Who is the third young girl? Does she have relatives here?” Everyone stared at each other. They did not know her. “She is fine, just suffering from a minor concussion,” said the doctor. But no one was listening, caught up in their own world. Mary and her son-in-law entered the room. There lay his wife—his life.

“I feel like half of me is dead,” said the young man. He walked over to his wife, picked up her cold hand, and said, “They will pay for this, my lovely darling. They will pay.” Mary looked at him and wondered how he could make drug gangs pay. When they left, they saw a young girl being rushed out of the hospital with two men looking like official agents of some kind. She had a bandage over her forehead, but they couldn’t really see her face.

Fifteen years later

It was a beautiful day in Los Angeles. There was no fog and it was very sunny. Destiny loved to travel to L.A. from Houston. She loved to stay at the Hyatt on Wilshire. IBM was two blocks away and Beverly Hills was close. She loved L.A. After the business meetings, she had plans to go over to her aunts in Century City. But today she had seen Ken Norton, Jr. drive up in a white, elegant car, an old Rolls or Bentley. Destiny loved the excitement and the people.

“I’ve checked out, but could I leave my bags in the hotel for an hour?” Destiny asked the bell captain.

“Of course, a pretty lady like you can do anything you like,” replied the bell captain. Destiny had on a red Danskin top and some tight-legged blue jeans. This really accentuated her best asset. Jennifer Lopez had nothing on her.