One Voice Was Heard...
I stood there watching the scene. In New York, you are used o these kinds of scenes, but this one was different.
Five young men were playing basketball in the small court. Two on two. A tall blonde and short blonde playing against a dark haired guy and a medium height Latino. The fifth guy, a short Latino with long hair, was sitting down, watching the game. Suddenly a black dude came by and sat next to the one sitting. I knew the black dude, he was apart of a local gang. His name's Bubbah. Bubbah and other dude started talking and the other guys stopped playing and went over and talked. After a few minutes they all stood and played three on three. The shorter Latino and Bubbah joined the tall dark haired guy while the medium Latino went with the two blondes.
They played a few rounds. I caught on with some of their names. The tall dark haired one was call Kevvy Kev or Train. The short blonde was called B-Rok, and was very good at the game. Nicky was name of the tall blonde. The taller Latino was called Bone and the shorter one was named D by Bone. I watched the game until I saw a black truck parked across the street.
I hid behind a dumpster, for I knew there would be trouble. That was Pop Pop's gang. He hated Bubbah's gang, for no apparent reason. Pop Pop and four other guys came out the truck and walked to the basketball court. Bubbah, who had the ball had just thrown it to D when he saw Pop Pop, stop dead in his tracts. The other guys stopped playing and watched them enter the fence.
"Pop Pop, what are you doing here?" Bubbah asked calmly. The bigger guy laughed.
"This is our turf, boy. Why don't you and your buddies leave before something happens."
Four of the five guys started heading towards the other goal, but the short Latino stood beside Bubbah.
"Hey, why don't we just share the court?" D asked, looking straight at Pop Pop. "One of us could just sit out for a while, while we play. That away, we both can play. So how about it?"
Pop was stunned for a minute, as if nobody had ever said something like that to him. He looked at his friends and they shrugged. Suddenly Pop's face crumpled in anger. "You trying to be funny aren't you?"
D looked confused. "No, I'm serious. We can play a little game between my friends and yours and-" D was cut off when Pop Pop pulled out a gun.
"Shut up, Spanish Boy." Then, for no reason, pulled the trigger, hitting D right in chest. He grabbed his chest as he fell back onto the ground. Someone shouted out something, I couldn't hear because it was mixed with a sob. Suddenly Pop Pop's gang started fighting with the other four, while Pop Pop fought with Bubbah. The other guys weren't too trilled to fight, but since it was for there life, they had to.
I watched for a second, then slipped from behind dumpster and looked towards the pay phone. Some one was already there, apparently call the police so I headed to the fallen guy.
He was laying on his back, his arms and hands covering his chest, looking at the fight around him. He had tears in his eyes and struggled to speak. I slowly walked over to him and held his hand as I placed my other hand over his wound to stop the bleeding. He turned to me and whispered.
"Please make them stop . . . they are my friends . . . please . . ." He choked out, and then coughed.
"I can't, but the police are coming, I'll tell them that it was the other guys fault." I said calmly, as I seen the people on T.V. had done it. "I'm Christina. What's your name?"
He gulped a couple of time before he could respond. "Howie . . ."
"Hello, Howie. Don't worry, you'll be okay. Help is coming real soon." I looked up and saw that it was only fist fighting with no weapons. "Your friend's are going to be fine. It's only fist right now. The cops will be here before weapons will come out."
I could tell he wasn't gonna make it. His face was pale and his eyes were becoming unfocused very quickly. The bleeding came faster and faster. It had hit his heart. He was going to die any moment now. He gulped a few times again, then opened his mouth.
"I want you to tell them I love them . . . my friends. They are like brothers to me . . . and tell them to say good-bye to my family, that I love them . . . That I'm sorry." With that, he closed his eyes.
Howie didn't die right away. The paramedics spent 30 minutes working with him. Pop Pop's gang was arrested, and only after I explained to the cops what had happened, they didn't take Howie's friends in. Bubbah was also spared. I rode to the hospital in a police car with the two blondes, Nick and Brian, which I learned later. Nick was crying and Brian was trying to comfort him so I didn't say anything to them about what Howie said. I was going to wait until I knew he was dead and his friends were all there before I told anyone.
We finally got there and we all filed into the waiting room. Five minutes after Howie was in the ER, the doctor told us that they did everything they could for him but he didn't survive. All four friends were crying and hugging. Even Bubbah was, which was something new to me. It was a full two hours before some one looked at me and questioned my being there.
"Who are you?" Kevin asked, "And why are you hear?" From the sound of his voice, he really didn't care, he was just trying to be polite. I stood up.
"I'm Christina. I was there at the basketball court. I saw the whole thing. I followed you guys here cuz I wanted to put in my testament. And . . . I talked to Howie."
That got all of their attention. "Y-you talked to him?" Nick asked, shaking.
"Yeah, right before he passed out. He wanted me to tell you that he loved you all, and his family. That he was sorry he was going away." I said this as softly as I could, so I wouldn't hurt them or anything like that. Nick started crying again, and so did AJ. I grabbed my coat and my bag. I turned to them again.
"I must say, your friend is very strong. He's very brave too. He was worried about you guys more than himself. I'm very lucky to have met him before he died . . ." With that I left, headed home as if nothing had happened.
Two days later, I was home watching the news when the special report came on.
"26 year old Backstreet Boy, Howard Dorough, passed away 2 days ago in a New York hospital after a server gun shot wound to the chest. Howie D., as his fellow band mates called him, was playing basketball with the rest of the Backstreet Boys when a gang member started a fight and shot Howie D. Witnesses say it was the gang member's fault, that Howie was just trying to keep the peace between him and one of his buddies that were in a rival gang. Funeral for Howie was held this morning in Orlando, were his family and friends attended, due to the tragic death of the Boy, his family asked only close friends to attend. No fans. Even though they said they didn't want to be interviewed, the surviving Backstreet Boys told us to send out a thank you to a special person who was reported that she tried to save Howie's life. Thank you, Christina."
They played a little foot-age of the funeral, AJ, Kevin, Brian, and Nick were carrying the casket to the graveyard, along with, and I learned later on, Howie's brother and father. Nick was still crying and it Kevin this time that held him up. Some how, that thank you wasn't the thing that got to me, it was the fact that they said I tried to save his life. All I did was held his hand and tried to stop the bleeding. I then realized that I did try to save him, that I at least helped his friends know he wasn't alone before he passed away. I smiled and went to sleep.
Ten years had passed since then, and I hadn't met up with Howie's friends until now. I was in the backyard of my New Jersey home playing with my one year old son and his 4 year old sister when I saw a car come into the drive way. I picked up my one year old and grabbed the hand of my girl and headed towards the car. To my surprise, it was the four friends I met ten years ago. My heart stopped and I smiled, for I didn't go a day with out thinking of them or Howie. AJ smiled also.
"Are you Christina?" he asked coming closer.
"Yes, I am. I remember you guys." I said with a sweet smile as my son tried to wiggle out of my arms and head towards the little boy behind AJ. They each came and gave me a hug and I lead them towards my house. I looked down at AJ's feet and smiled at the shy little boy. "What's his name?"
"Howard Dwaine McLean . . . but we call him Baby D. after . . ."
"Howie, I know . . ." I looked at the little one in my hands, "Mine's Howard Pattrick Johnson . . . Howie for short. Pattrick is my husband’s name, and you know where Howie came from. My little girl, I named her Cassie Marie. I was hoping I would meet you guys again. I'm sorry I left in rush a hurry that night, but I wanted to be home." I said as I sat Howie down on the couch. AJ lifted his little boy right next to him and we headed to the kitchen.
"How old is he?" I asked, getting some milk and pouring it into a bottle. "Want something to drink?"
"Nah," AJ said, the rest shook their heads except for Nick.
"Um, you got a Pepsi?" I nodded and grabbed one from the fridge as I picked up the milk. I handed him one as AJ was talking.
"Three. I also have a daughter, 3 months. Lacy." I smiled. The rest started telling me their children’s names.
Kevin had two sons, Jerald Howard and Micheal Andrew. Brian had a little girl named Angel Marie and his wife was expecting a son in June. Nick had twins, a boy and a girl. Nicholas Dwaine and Kelly Ann. They also started telling me about Howie and his family and all. My husband came home three hours later and we were still talking. Pattrick was very happy to meet them, because I told him about everything. It was close to 8 before we had nothing left to say. Both Howie's were asleep and Cassie was starting to fall asleep on "Uncle" Nick's lap. I suggested that Baby D could sleep in Howie's crib with him until they left and they agreed. We picked up our sons and headed towards the baby room and laid them down to sleep. We left quickly and headed back to the living room. Cassie was asleep and Pattrick was bringing her to her room.
"I have something to say to you all that I waited ten years to say." I started. "That night changed my life. Not the 'Oh, I'm scared to go outside now' kind of way but . . . I was 15 then, but I've seen murders before, mostly gang battles, like they did that night. But that one was different. Howie was the first person I saw that ever stood up for peace. No one had ever done that before, and it started a trend, people started standing up for peace. Some got shot, yes, but more and more people were doing it. The neighbor hood had become better over the years. The only reason I didn't stay is because of my husband. Five years ago I moved here to start a family, but I still go back and see it."
Tears fell from their eyes as I spoke, but I wasn't finished. "You ever heard of that song . . . by that kid who was 12 then, he's 22 now but he sang a country song called "One Voice"?" Some of them nodded, Nick just looked confused. So I started singing the part I remember.
"On the way home I saw a kid walking home on Newberry Road . . . he took a pistil from his bag and threw it into the river below . . . Thanks for the help . . . down here on Earth . . . One thousand prayers, a million words . . . but one voice was heard . . ." I sang softly and they smiled.
"Wow . . . yeah, I remember now." Nick said, probably stunned that I could sing.
"Well, Howie was that One Voice. He stopped more people from being killed. He was like that boy that threw away the gun in the song when he suggested peace. Though he was killed, he didn't die in vane . . ." I trailed off as I felt tears well into my eyes. AJ handed me a tissue and I wiped them away.
We sat in silence for a while, then Kevin looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, we have to go. Our wives must be wondering why we are gone so long." He looked at me, "Thank you. We were wondering what happened to you too. I think we all feel better now that we know Howie's death wasn't a lose cause . . . Like we thought for the past ten years. I hope we can keep in touch." I nodded and they handed me their numbers and addresses. Nick slipped into my daughter's room and wrote a short note to her, since she could read some while I went with AJ to get Baby D. He woke up and started crying cuz he didn't want to leave his buddy behind. AJ assured him that they would be back and they finally left after hugs and good-byes.
The next day, I took the subway to New York and went back to the basketball court. The Boys must have visited before they came over to my house because there were flowers all over the fence Howie died near. All sorts of colors, mostly purple, Howie's favorite color. They had four different pictures of him, all the other guys favorite picture of him, or most memorial ones. I added my violets and a note: 'Thanks for the help, down here on Earth, out of the one thousand prayers, one million words, your voice was heard . . .'
I stood back so I could see the shrine. I looked back into the court and found two boys were playing basketball and two other guys came in and they started talking, harshly at first, then one of the guys looked over at the shrine and suddenly smiled. He handed the ball to one of the other guys, obviously telling him, 'Lets Play'. The guy looked down at the ball and then at his friend and smiled. They started playing again and I smiled.
I remembered a time when that would have turned out differently. Now, as I looked at the scene, now I'm used to these kinds of scenes. And to think it was started by a Backstreet Boy who was just trying to be nice. I walked back to my cab and got in. As I drove off, I saw Bubbah, walking down the sidewalk, hold a small child's hand. I waved and he saw me. He smiled and waved back and continued on his way towards the court.
The End