Chapter 2
On the way back to their side of town, "Black Daddy" was ominously quiet. When they came to the block of the local high school he pulled the car up and parked. Jocko was confused.
"What's wrong? What do you want to stop for?"
"What right these people got to be so good and nice? Didn't we just prove that a girl like her can live just the way we do?"
"I suppose. What you driving at?"
'Take a look at this school. Tennis courts, pool. We got anything like this?"
"You kidding?"
"Then why should they? She probably goes to this school right here. That girl fucked and sucked like a champ. But tomorrow morning, she'll be the clean, little lady again and nobody will be the wiser. She'll go to this school in fresh clothes and her parents will be very proud of her. Your parents proud of you?"
"I don't even know who they are?"
"That settles it. We're gonna teach this town a lesson. Show them no neighborhood has more rights than the other."
"What you got in mind?"
"Dump the school. Destroy it."
"We gotta get in there first and case the joint."
"Think I don't know that? In the morning you and I walk in like a couple of students."
"Check that. Ain't no blacks in this neighborhood. Me, I might pass if we pick up some clothes."
"Okay, you and Frankie do it. Least he's white."
Then the car sped off to a block where there were several stores. The boys selected one which displayed some expensive men's clothing and promptly smashed the front door. They took their time selecting wardrobes.
They did not bother to take anything that might not fit. Why bother? If they ever needed something else there was always more stores to knock off. Jocko spent the night planning his strategy and first thing in the morning dropped his boys off in front of the school.
If the school was anything like theirs then some location in the basement would be best for a nice bomb. They did not want to have any victims if it were possible. While a bombing might bring the law looking for them, a bunch of dead bodies would mean that the law and the local populace would leave no stone unturned until they were found.
No, all they were interested in was getting their message across by use of the bomb and then getting the hell out of there.
While classes were in session, they wandered down the staircase and into the basement. In their neighborhood school, shops and job training classes were held in the basement. But basement level atmosphere seemed to be too unhealthy for the better class of kids.
All they found was a bunch of lockers, plus storage rooms and maintenance offices. That was great as far as they were concerned. It was not likely that they would be seen setting the whole thing up, and also not likely that the bomb would be discovered before it went off. Walking through the rooms, searching for the best possible bombsite, they heard a crew of men shuffling down the staircase. Hiding behind a locker they learned from the conversation that the basement level of the school was about to undergo an overhaul. From that morning on, workmen would be bustling about.
Immediately, that level of the school became a risk. Either themselves or the bomb were sure to be found. As all the other levels were filled with classes for most of the day, all that remained was the roof, or one of the Johns. On the roof, there was a good chance that they would be spotted planting it, even if they did so during the night.
The area was much too well-lit for a stunt like that. As they walked up the staircases and through the halls, they remarked to each other that there were no guards. The school had never known a single incident of violence.
Well, no school deserved to exist without a lesson in violence. It was high time that the people of the white, middle-class neighborhood learned what it was like to live with a little violence as part of their existence.
For a crowded school, the halls seemed quiet. The students were known to be the best and most studious in the entire state, and their scholastic level was the highest in the country. This information was on the bulletin boards.
Something would have to be done to change all that. Deciding one of the girls' bathrooms was the place since it was less likely the bomb would be found, the boys left the school and went back to their side of town.
The bomb "Black Daddy" created was a rather small one, which was no easy feat considering that it was fabricated from dynamite, plus all sorts of odds and ends found in garbage cans and kitchen cupboards. Considering that they only wished to make a point, and not reduce the entire school to rubble, they decided that the amount of dynamite should be sufficient to put the school out of order for several days, but not enough to close it down entirely.
They would call the newspaper at that moment it was to go off and make their statement about teenage equality. When it was over, "Black Daddy" felt sure that he would be able to forget the little girl and go back to the everyday routine of heists and robberies, with an occasional rape to add a little spice.
Even to himself "Black Daddy" did not admit that the courage of the young girl had moved him. Hysterics and begging on her part would have served to heighten the pleasure of the group, but the girl had proven that she had spunk, even in the face of the two dozen hard-nosed bastards.
"Black Daddy" wondered if his own sister would have stood up as well. Damn that little, white bitch! She had really gotten to him and he didn't like it. She had actually made him feel guilty for the first time. Guilt was something he couldn't handle and the best way to eliminate it was to go out and do something even more notorious.
He was sure that if no one else guessed who might have set the bomb, Wendy would. It would probably be the first thing that came to her mind. The building was surrounded on three sides by sports facilities and "Black Daddy" wished a portion of the building to be destroyed that could be seen all over the neighborhood. That left only the front location, which worked out fine as the girl's bathrooms were all located in a line on every floor to the front of the building.
Since there were no guards, he could safely have his boys place the bomb after the last session ended. The school was sure to be deserted. But no kids like those usually were involved in extracurricular crap like school plays and newspapers. It would be best to wait an extra hour so the dumb honkies could be safely home at their dinner tables when the place was rocked.
Jocko and Frankie entered the school just as the bell for the end of the class rang and found themselves a cozy place to hide while the meetings and groups took care of their business. The place finally seemed to be deserted, but they waited a few minutes longer.
They scurried around the halls, looking in all the doorways and found not a soul. Then they casually went back to where their equipment was stashed and set everything up. Together they walked into the girls' bathroom. A few minutes were spent playing around with some left-over lipstick which they used to scrawl obscenities on the mirror.
After that bit of fun, they looked around for the best place to stash the stuff. It would have to be either the paper dispensers, or the storage case for sanitary napkins. They decided on the rag box, finding it appropriate in their minds.
Using some tape from a first-aid kit, they set the timing mechanism, taped it to the bomb and then taped the entire package inside the rag box. Satisfied that all was now well, they left the school and walked across the street where they climbed to the roof of the local department store and unpacked some sandwiches and beer.
In the street below, Jose was stationed at a payphone, ready to make the call at the very second the place blew up. He had a prepared speech in his hand and was to hang up as soon as he read it so that the call could not be traced. The whole thing went off like clockwork and in the quiet neighborhood the explosion could be heard everywhere. The boys stood up and pointed at the colorful fireworks.
Then they sat down and finished their beers, leaving the roof and getting into their car just as the police and fire department arrived. "Black Daddy" had proven once again that he was the best gang leader of all time. None of the other boys really understood why he wanted to bomb the place, but it sounded like a fun thing to do so they went along.
None of the other boys came close to the intellect of "Black Daddy." If he had been born white and middle-class, he would have been a cinch for a university scholarship.
But, instead, he was born to a hooker and had never known his father. He was black, but smart as a ""whip and he turned all of his intelligence to planning and carrying out the best gang maneuvers that his state had ever seen.
"Black Daddy" felt a refreshing sense of relief as the bomb went off. He pictures the pretty, white girl, snug in her middle-class home as she heard the explosion. Did she instantly know? Or did she have to think about it for a minute before she got their message?