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“When?”
“Fire the cops now!”
“Fire the cops!”
“When?”
“Fire the cops now!”
The chanting is not going to stop for anyone, not even Nana Mama.
“GOOD EVENING,EVERYBODY.Welcome. Welcome to myhome.Yes. Myhome. I call it that because my family and I live here.”
I am always amazed at how strong Nana Mama’s voice is. Today she sounds even stronger than usual. Plus, her voice is remarkably calm. I can only imagine that if I had to step out in front of a crowd like this… well, never mind.
Plenty of the protesters actually know Nana Mama. I mean, man, she was a schoolteacher in this neighborhood for sixty-five years. Sixty-five years! That means that there are people out there who had her as a teacher, whose children had her, whose grandchildren had her.
She is one brave and determined lady. As I watch her, I figure that if Nana Mama can face the crowd, I can dig up a spoonful of courage, too. I join Nana Mama on the stoop. I’m hoping that this crowd will quiet down, show a little respect for this local legend. But this bunch is riled up. They’re not mean-looking, but they look… well, they look determined. It’s old people and young people. I recognize three or four guys from school, including A-Train and Cedric’s older brother, Anthony. And then my heart jumps, a sad sort of jump. I see my favorite girl, Sienna. She is standing with her mother and father.
Nana Mama tries again. She takes a deep breath and tries again.
“I’ll wait for you all,” she says. “Somebody tell me when I can talk.”
There’s a noticeable decrease in the shouting, but it’s still not nearly quiet enough for Nana to be heard.
So she waits. She looks straight ahead. She’s not moving. As for me, I’m still staring at Sienna, hoping that she looks back at me. If we make eye contact, at least that would be something. I wonder what side she’s on. If she’s standing outside my house because she’s protesting my family.
A few feet away from where I’m standing is a tough-looking guy wearing a black sleeveless shirt that says on it:POLICE THE POLICE.I don’t know where my own voice suddenly comes from, but I lean in and talk to this dude.
“Hey, man,” I say. “Could you pass the word on to quiet ’em all down? My Nana has something to say.”
At first I think the guy is going to tell me to do something nasty to myself. Instead he nods and turns to two women behind him. In a really loud voice, the guy says: “Quiet down. Pass it on.” And it works. Well, it sort of works. More people speak to the people behind them. “Quiet down. Pass it on.” “Let the old lady talk.” “Quiet, everyone.”
The talking and shouting and chanting don’t completely stop. But there’s some real decrease in the noise level. It sorta sounds like just a big group of people waiting for a Wizards home game to start.
After a few minutes the guy in the sleeveless shirt looks at me and says, “Tell the old lady to talk. It’s not going to get any quieter than this.”
“I heard him,” Nana says. And she starts to speak.
“I don’t have a lot to say…” she begins.
But before she can utter another word, a voice from the crowd yells, “Where’s Alex Cross?”
This shout is followed by another: “This is Alex Cross’s house. We want to hear from Alex Cross.”
Nana wastes no time in responding.
“This ismyhouse. So you’re going to hear from me.”
She pauses for a moment, just a moment. I think that both of us understand that the crowd could get loud again quickly.
“I understand your anger. But I’m telling you this—it’s something I learned because I’ve lived so long. And here it is: we all need one another. Life has to be in balance. Do you understand that? This neighborhood—your neighborhood, my neighborhood—it just cannot survive without the police. So we all have to do better. Yes, and that means the police, too. And, yes, every person in the neighborhood. And…”
Suddenly, there is some scattered booing in the crowd.
“Go ahead. Boo all you want. Do whatever you want. Those are your rights! Boo! Cheer! That’s the freedom that’ll save us,” Nana says.
And just as suddenly, there is a smattering of cheers. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Nana Mama smiles. Gotta hand it to her. Maybe it’s from teaching thousands of kids over the years. But this lady sure knows how to handle a crowd.
