Читать книгу The Hip Hop Murderer - Dwayne Bowen - Страница 4

The church is overwhelmed with sadness and grief—from Bryson's high school friends to his mother, Lisa, crying aloud in Bruce's arms. The preacher takes time out of his sermon to address the congregation about how violence and hip hop music are corrupting the minds of our children.

"Our men and young boys such as Bryson are being taken away from us by this hip hop music with words that can be so hard-core and brutally descriptive. What can our kids possibly learn from lyrics telling them how to get high, or drunk, or how easy it is to kill someone in cold blood?"

The congregation listens attentively as the pastor continues. "I ask the young people here today to respond with a show of hands. How many of you knew young Bryson personally and have been around him to experience his personality?"

Ninety-five percent of the congregation raises their hands. "Look around and observe the amount of people here raising their hands. Now, I've been around Bryson myself, and not once did he strike me as a troublesome kid. He was always laughing and smiling and enjoying life. But all it took was one night of innocent fun."

With a dramatic pause and a piercing look, the pastor walks down the stairs toward Bryson's casket.

"Just like Biggie and 2-Pac, someone knows who killed young Bryson! Stop letting this music get into your head and take away the only thing that's truly priceless..."

The pastor pauses again and points to the congregation with such conviction that he closes his eyes, "...your life!"

As the people in the pews praise him with 'Amen's' and 'praise the lord's', Lisa is crying so hard and loud that the organ is a mere whisper compared to her wailing.

Sitting in the same pew as Bryson's parents, it was difficult for Joe's eyes to connect with them as tears of anguish and anger streamed down his face. The only thing going through his head was that someone was going to pay for every tear that Bruce and his wife shed.

Suddenly, Lisa yells out, "Why my baby, Lord...why my son?!"

Almost as an answer to her question, a young, teenage girl started making her way up to the casket, yelling and screaming, "No, Bryson, no...please come back!"

Just then, Bruce looked over at Joe with surprised eyes as he wondered who this girl was and why she was making such a scene. The more Lisa yelled, the more the young lady yelled in return, dropping to her knees in the aisle before one of her friends picked her up and pulled her back.

In closing, the pastor put his hand on Lisa's head to calm her and then walked back up to the podium. He then raised his hands, calling the pallbearers to the front of the church. In the army, Joe had mastered being a pallbearer for fallen soldiers, but nothing could've prepared him for the burial of his best friend's only son. As Joe stood up in front of the church and the funeral home director placed the flowers neatly onto the casket, he dreaded the walk down the aisle of the church.

He took a deep breath and tried to keep it together. No amount of military training could keep his tears from coming down. Walking directly behind him, he could hear Lisa's outcries as she searched for reason; begging and pleading for an answer from God himself.

Before getting into the cars to ride to the cemetery, Bruce held Lisa tightly and close to keep himself from falling apart for what would seem like a life-long trip to the cemetery.

Upon arriving at the burial, Bruce and Lisa saw that a long trail of turf with white rose petals dressed the walkway toward the plot—the one they had picked out for Bryson to bury them in. Under the canopy were ten rows of chairs for the close and immediate family members, all draped with white seat covers and black, sheer scarves. Everyone else stood behind them, awaiting the words of departure from the pastor.

As the pastor's wife began to sing "Amazing Grace", Lisa rocked back and forth in Bruce's arms, shaking her head in disbelief. Just then Joe released seventeen white doves. As Bryson was being lowered into the ground, people came forward to say their final goodbyes, dropping flowers onto his casket.

After the burial, Bruce, Lisa and Joe walked back to the limo. Joe stood next to them and said, "Don't worry because justice will be served. I will make certain of that."

Once they all arrive at the church for the Passover, everyone eats and exchanges kind words about their fondest memories of young Bryson. While Bruce walks around thanking everyone for coming, Joe accompanies him. They overhear people mentioning how beautiful the arrangements were and how peaceful Bryson looked. Many could assume this was soothing for Bruce to hear and, for the most part, it was. But it just made Joe even more upset—so much so that he had to walk away into the men's room and punch the wall several times.

He then enters the bathroom stall, drops to his knees, and pleads, "Please God, please help Bruce through this tough time and please watch over my wife and twin boys, Bryan and Ryan...especially Bryan."

As he rises from the floor of the stall, he walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Looking in the mirror, he says, "Somebody's going to pay." As he exits the bathroom, he hears something. Listening closely, he thinks his ears are deceiving him. Looking around to see where the music is coming from, he sees a group of teenagers in the corner, listening to rap music. Joe decides to sit on the bench outside the bathroom and observe their behavior and body language.

Continuing to watch the group of kids, he notices them smiling at the song playing, mentioning that it was Bryson's favorite. At that point, Joe pops a peppermint before he gets up off the bench and storms over with a very angry look on his face, pounding his chest and balling his fists up. He reaches out for the radio and smashes it to the floor, yelling, "Have you kids learned nothing from the eulogy the pastor gave in church this morning?!"

Everyone's attention turns toward Joe and the kids. As they all look on, they point and shake their heads in disbelief at his actions.

Bruce runs over to Joe and pulls him back, saying, "Easy, man, not here...not right now!"

Joe yells back, "Why not now, why not here?! You just lost your son and these teenagers still don't seem to get it!"

Bruce looks Joe directly in the eyes with his head slightly tilted to the side, pleading. "Please Joe, for the sake of my family and Lisa, please tone it down." Bruce squeezes Joe's shoulders with both hands, trying to snap him back to reality.

Joe obliges his request but not before casting an angry look toward the teenagers and everyone else looking on. Then he storms through the crowded room, bumping into a few people as he heads outside to cool off. Flinging the church doors open, he walks down the steps, talking to himself. "These kids these days are ridiculous!"

An older woman walks up behind Joe and placidly rubs him on the back to calm him down. "God bless you. I understand your pain because I lost two grandkids from listening to this rap music. It's like no one cares enough to monitor what is being played on the radio stations or in videos these days. I just hope God helps you to find peace."

Joe slightly turns his head toward her. "You can say that again. No one wants to be held accountable for what's going on in our community."

"Don't worry, God is always watching—He'll take care of it."

Joe mumbled to himself, "God needs to work faster."

As the woman slowly walks away, humming an old gospel tune under her breath, Joe gazes into the cloudy sky, feeling a sense of peace overwhelm his body.

Taking a deep breath, he adjusts his uniform and heads back inside the church. Once he re-enters the crowded room, he notices that a handful of people are staring at him. Without making direct eye contact with anyone, he walks over to the table to make himself a plate of food. Just as he's putting macaroni and cheese on his plate, Bruce walks over to Joe, gently bumping into his arm. "Hey, big guy, you calmed down now?"

With a slight smile on his face, Joe says, "Yeah, I'm all right." He then turns around and extends his hand to Bruce. "I apologize for my outburst...I know that was a bit rude. I meant no disrespect to you or Lisa; you know Bryson was like a son to me."

"As hard as it is on Lisa and me, you know we're representing Bryson and 177 right now."

Joe responds with a pound and a hug in agreement. "177, baby."

Just then Lisa walks up to Bruce and Joe Joe. "Hey, sweetheart, can I steal you for a moment? I'd like you to wrap things up with a closing prayer."

Joe turned to Lisa. "Hey, Lise, how are you holding up?"

"I'm hanging in there; just ready to go home and mourn on my own, alone."

"Okay, darlin," Bruce responds, "lets go home. Joe, take some food back to the hotel with you because it's just going to go to waste here."

Joe replies, "Will do, man."