Chapter 15: Death Interrupts Life
Quincy continued fulfilling his plan. At times he felt discouraged, but he never lost faith that he was having some small effect. Weeks went by, and summer vacation arrived. Quincy redoubled his efforts and worked himself near exhaustion trying to bring happiness to others. But still he saw no results. The people he interacted with smiled for him, but he did not see others following his example.
It wasn't until near the end of his summer that Quincy was finally about ready to give up on his mission. He enjoyed seeing the people he helped smile, but couldn’t help but feel the efforts were forgotten moments after he left. One day while walking home, as he contemplated giving up, he saw a familiar face in the distance. But it was not the usual street hardened, emotionless face that he remembered. No, this face was filled with fear.
Quincy broke into a quick jog and got to Shaquana as quick as he could. When he reached her, she was in hysterics. She pulled him into the alley.
“They tryin to kill me. They said I be dealing on they turf, and they 'z trying to kill me. When your father disappeared, a new supplier took over his turf, and they tried to push me out. I found another supplier, and he assured me he could protect me. Now he be dead, and I be joining him before long.”
“Well, I can hide you at my house. You can come with me.”
“I can’t, I have to make sales. My baby has been sick lately. I have hospital bills to pay, and if I can’t pay em, then I can’t be going back to the hospital. I gotta find a new place ta sell.”
“You’re risking your life, your child isn’t going to have a mother soon if you don’t stop. Will these people keep looking for you?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. But it’s a big city. It’ll take em a while to find me.”
“And then what, you run again… or you die? Isn’t there any other way?”
“Look, you need to get out of here, and I need ta get outta here. They were only a few blocks away last time I saw them. Don’t worry about me, I ain’t your concern.”
“But I will help you.”
“I said I can take care of myself, now get outta here before they find me. I don’t need your help.”
“Fine, get out of here.”
Quincy turned his back and began to walk away. He was done trying to help Shaquana. But out of the corner of his ear he heard a voice shout, “she’s over here.” As he turned he saw a man with a gun pointed at Shaquana. Without thinking Quincy turned back around and started running towards Shaquana. She had taken off down the road, but the man was gaining on her. He had fired off a few shots, but they had missed. Then, without apparent reason, Shaquana tripped. His first thought was why had she tripped, but then he quickly discarded that thought and realized she was in trouble. The man had gained enough ground on her that he had a clear shot at her. Quincy darted toward Shaquana, not at all sure what he would do should he get to her.
As Quincy ran and neared where she had fallen, he saw the man raise his gun, point it straight at her back and he heard the trigger click. Time froze in that moment. Quincy could see the bullet breaking through the air. He could not hear it, but he saw it in slow motion gliding directly at Shaquana. Inch by inch it approached her back. She hadn’t even regained her balance enough to realize it was coming at her. By the time she was able to turn around and see what was happening it was too late. The bullet had lodged itself directly into the chest of Quincy who had dived just in time to block the bullet. His last thoughts were, I have no children to take care of, and no one who needs me. Realizing that he had missed his intended target, the man approached closer to the dying boy and Shaquana. But as he did this, people appeared out of their houses and the alleys. They swarmed the street and the man realized he didn’t want to give them any more time to memorize his face. He ran off in the direction he had come from.
But back at the scene of the crime, Quincy lay dying. The bullet barely missed striking his heart, but had hit close enough that he had little time left. Shaquana was above him telling him to hold on, as she intermittently shouted for someone to call an ambulance. Quincy, slightly in shock, kept repeating the same words over and over again. “I tried to make a difference, I tried.”
As he lay there dying, a few people pushed through the crowd and walked up to Quincy. He felt as though he recognized their faces. A few of the people had buckets in their hands, with roses sticking out. One lady had a bag of subway tokens. Another had a few open packages of wild flower seeds. As they approached Quincy, he forced a smile to his face despite the pain. He asked one lady with a bucket of rose, “Did I earn a rose?”
“You’ve earned a garden of roses!”
“But then there is so much work left to do.” Quincy finished these words as he seemed to fade out of consciousness.
Moments later an ambulance arrived and Quincy disappeared from their lives.
Shaquana gave a police report, and took a long walk thinking about what her life had come to. She walked long and far and though she knew Quincy was dead, she saw him on the streets of Philadelphia. Every few blocks she saw neighbors helping each other out. She saw random people carrying roses. And she heard people talking about free subway rides.
As she reflected on what had passed, tears streamed down her face. Quincy was dead and it was because of her. Had she only stopped selling drugs when she had first met him. If she had only listened to the obvious truth, he would still be alive. As she cried, an old gray haired man approached her. He handed her a rose and smiled.
“My dear, it wasn’t just his garden to tend to, he simply needed to show us how to get started. It is our garden now. He’ll live on in us.”
Chapter 16: The Final Flush
And somewhere in the city of Philadelphia sits a solitary urinal attached to the wall in a hallway connecting two parts of the subway. There is no urine smell, it has been replaced by a plaque that reads in both English and in Braille, “In honor of the eternal optimist: we are smiling thanks to you!”
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