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Channing and Anderson walked through the crowd in front of the church.
Instead of shouting and fighting, people held hands and waved lit lighters as the pastor quoted scriptures into a microphone on the church steps.
Channing studied various expressions, heartfelt emotions dripped from the gatherers’ faces.
“You all right?” Anderson squeezed her hand.
She nodded, hiding her tears.
“Then why are you crying?”
People sang along with the choir.
“It’s so touching.” The gleam from lighters hit Channing’s eyes everywhere she turned. “Looks like the entire town is here, and it’s all for Presley.”
People wore pictures and caps with Presley’s picture on them.
“They love her,” Channing whispered. “I can feel it, can’t you?”
Anderson nodded, tears in his eyes. “Yeah.”
Khadija waltzed toward them wearing a Presley T-shirt and red skechers. “Channing.” She gave Anderson a slight smile. “Mr. Abraham.”
He nodded. “Khadija, it’s always lovely to see you.”
She held her hands behind her back. “Some turnout, huh?”
“Yeah.” Channing checked out the crowd but there were so many people she couldn’t see past the immediate faces behind her. “Thank you, Khadija.” Channing took her hand. “I never said I appreciated all you’ve done.”
“It’s my pleasure, sista.” Khadija patted Channing’s hand. “I don’t do this for thanks. I promised to fight for Presley and I’ll do that until she gets what she deserves. It’s bigger than Nate. That little girl symbolizes all our people have been through.”
“I know.” Channing swallowed. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Channing.” Anderson pointed to Reverend Sharston who’d squeezed his lumpy body into a crisp, gray suit.
“It’s Reverend Hal.” She gasped. “He came.”
“He’s just one of millions with a voice that cares,” Khadija said. “We all do.”
“Channing?” The hipster-looking white guy behind her patted her shoulder. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.” He gave her a rose. “We’re selling these for donations for Presley.”
“That’s so sweet. I can’t explain what your kindness means to me.”
Khadija smiled. “Say something.”
“You mean a speech?” Channing backed up, bumping into the Asian man behind her. “I can’t.”
“Yeah you can.” Anderson pinched her cheek. “It’s for Presley, remember?”
“Come on.” Khadija grabbed Channing’s hand and pulled her up the church steps while Anderson remained in the crowd.
The people erupted in cheers and claps when they saw Channing.
“Here.” Khadija passed Channing a microphone and Reverend Hal presented a sincere smile.
“What do I say?” Knots formed in Channing’s stomach
“Just say something.” Khadija hyped up the crowd.
“Channing,” the crowd chanted. “Channing!”
She stood behind the podium, setting her gaze on Anderson who nodded in support.
Channing cleared her throat, her hands shaking. “I’d like to say thank you all.”
Odelia and Boyd emerged wearing Presley T-shirts.
“I’ve been absent from a lot you’re doing,” Channing said. “But, what you’ve done for my daughter means everything.”
People snapped pictures and recorded her on their phones.
“I haven’t agreed with the methods used to get the message across.” Channing looked at Khadija. “But, what’s important is that you’ve all done everything from the heart.”
Sonjay and Dex squeezed through the crowd and Channing’s heart warmed as she made eye contact with her sister.
“We love that little girl.” A black man raised his lighter.
A woman waved a sign. “God bless, Presley!”
“We’ll never stop fighting for her!” An old Jewish man with a crooked cap declared. “Justice for Presley!”
The audience chanted along with him.
“God bless you.” Channing blew the crowd kisses. “God bless you all.”
They roared with praise.
Anderson smiled at Channing as she approached Khadija. “Thank you.”
“We’re here for you.” Khadija hugged her. “We always will be.”
“Justice for Nate!” A swarm of people marched toward the crowd with signs covered with Nate’s picture. “Justice for Nate!”
“We want justice!” Jolene Lancaster led the mob, their eyes fuming with hatred. “I lost my son. Justice for my son!”
“Justice for Nate!” The rag-tag group pushed through Presley’s supporters.
“Watch it,” a woman hit a guy who bumped into her.
“Look at them crackers,” Corn rolls shouted. “This is our space! We paid to be here. They’re crashing the ceremony.”
“They ain’t crashing nothing,” Khadija said. “We came here to pay our respects to Presley and pray.”
Each group shouted, trying to drown out the other’s words.
“They better stay over there,” a Presley protestor warned. “They come over here they’ll be in the ground with Nate.”
“Settle down,” Dex told the man.
“Settle nothing,” a white woman said. “We have every right to protect ourselves if they start trouble.”
“Ignore them, everyone.” Khadija held up her lighter as Nate’s supporters yelled louder over her. “Hold up your lighters. Hold them up for Presley!”
“Fat, black bitch.” A young, pregnant woman from Nate’s group wearing hip hugger jeans and a floral halter top, threw a soda can at Presley’s crowd.
“Hey, bitch!” Corn rolls ran toward her but others held him back. “You wanna throw shit?”
An old, squinting man in dingy overalls spit at Presley’s protestors. “Niggers!”
“Oh hell no.” A black woman threw her sign. “Let’s get their asses.”
“No.” Channing ran down the steps. “Wait!”
“Yeah,” a white Presley follower screamed. “Fuckin’ racist trash!”
“Get out of here!”
Presley’s protestors charged Nate’s supporters.
“Oh, god.” Channing joined her family.
Reverend Hal, the church’s pastor and the choir shouted to intervene; but no one paid them any attention.
The crowds intertwined, men and women throwing punches and tossing signs.
“No!” Khadija jumped in the street. “This is not what we came here for today! We came for peace!”
“Fuck, peace!” A Presley follower grabbed one of Nate’s guys by the neck.
“Jesus.” Odelia covered her mouth. “It’s a mess.”
“I’m calling the police.” Khadija got out her phone. “Lord, I never thought I’d say that.”
“I don’t believe this,” Boyd said. “They’re like animals.”
The punches were so deep they vibrated in Channing’s ears. A group of men stomped one of Nate’s followers on the sidewalk.
“My children,” Reverend Hal tottered onto the sidewalk. “Please don’t let the devil steal this moment. It’s for Presley!”
Purses, hats and even a few people, flew into the street.
“Sweet Jesus.” Khadija stabbed at her phone with her finger. “Damn Sheriff’s office isn’t even answering. I’m tired of this small-ass, little ass town.” She stomped off, still on the phone.
“What do we do?” Channing asked.
“Stay out of the way.” Anderson put his arm around her.
“This is ridiculous,” Dex said.
“Oh!” A man flew out the crowd, landing face first in the street.
“Stop it.” Reverend Hal waved his arms. “Brothers and sisters!”
“There’s only person who can stop this.” Boyd held his wife close. “Mayor Bordeaux has to take a stand tonight. It’s gone too far.”
A woman’s wig flew over Channing’s head. “Why would he do anything now?”
Sonjay picked up the ratty wig. “Whoever lost this should be glad. This wig is horrible.”
“Bordeaux’s checked out,” Odelia said. “He doesn’t care.”
“He’d better,” Anderson said. “Or he won’t have a town left.”