On The Lakefront

Prologue October 25, 2018 “This is Tom Sells and Veronica Edwards here at WLAS Channel 5 broadcast—the most viewed news in the New Orleans, Metairie, Kenner, and all other surrounding areas.” The reporter had a professional tone. “Real news events first.” “Tom,” Veronica interrupts, “We are getting the breaking story of a body found in a car where there might be some foul play involved. Marcia Jones and our street team are on the scene. Marcia.” “Good evening, Veronica. I am located where a passerby called with a tip about a strange automobile. They said they went up to the car, noticed blood, and called authorities. This silver 2016 Toyota Camry behind me is where they discovered the body. The NOPD is processing this scene as a homicide. A gun and note found on the scene suggested it was suicide. Police say that the victim is an unidentified African-American male around the ages of 21 to 30. They will release more details, including the victim’s identity, once police notify the family. I am Marcia Jones with WLAS Channel 5 news.” “Is this happening? Nah,” the young man said. He clicked the TV off. “Is that why you haven’t come? Bredda Weh a you?” He peered out his window, looking at the spot where his brother would park. He said with a sigh to himself, “Well, I haven’t gotten a call so.” Just then, his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. “Yow madda Wah a wrong? Mi jus did si di news An.…” He said in a whisper before becoming loud. “Yuh a lie. Dat a nah fi mi bredda. Mi haffi guh.” He hung the phone up in disbelief, and the tears flowed. Meanwhile, at home in Kenner, a couple is sitting up in their bed. The husband just turned off the TV. “My poor student,” he said, making his way to the restroom with his phone in his hand. “You bring your cell phone in the bathroom?” she asked, giving him a dirty look. “Man, can I go take a s**t and play candy crush in peace?” She scoffed and rolled over as he went into the bathroom. He started playing candy crush, but all the while, he was texting. Little Nut, the mission is complete. Thank you for helping me take care of my dilemma. He received a text back. No problem, man. The guy then deleted the messages, flushed the toilet, and cleaned up to make it seem like he used it. He crawled back into bed and cradled his wife. “Sometimes hurt people hurt people,” he said in a mumble in her ear, brushing back her dreadlocks with his fingers. She felt a teardrop on her face. She sensed her husband knew more about the news story.