“D
addy, what were you thinking?” The black woman was anxious to find out why her father just went on a shooting rampage.
They were now two blocks away from Harris Simmons's headquarters and passing a small building. She looked in and saw that the lobby was empty.
“Let's go in here and keep your head down in case there are video cameras. We can't take a chance on being seen. I need you to explain this to me and to try and make sense of what just happened.”
The man looked her in the eyes. Although he was quite old and his posture stooped over by age, they seemed now to be the same height. They were both close to six feet tall. As she looked back at him, she could see he still looked angry, with a scowl and without fear for what just happened.
“Sammy, I warned him to stop treating me that way. Gill has never respected me. He's always been chomping at my heels, with that stupid ass smile.”
“What do you mean? He was so kind to you and me,” she said.
“You just don't understand Sammy.”
She shook her head and said, “I guess you're right. I don't understand this at all. Shooting people, I don’t. Not one bit.”
She then patted his jacket pocket, “Daddy, where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“Give me the gun, please?”
He slowly began to reach into his pocket, and as he started to pull the gun out, she looked up to see if there were any cameras.
“Stop, wait. There is a camera here. Let’s just go to the subway that’s two blocks from here. We can't take a taxi or call a car. We can't be spotted. Don't speak to anyone, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sammy, I do.”
“Okay, when we get outside, I am going to reach into your jacket and get the gun and put it into my jacket pocket. Does it belong to you?”
“No, uh, yes. I can't remember,” the old man stuttered as he strained to remember. “I have a gun collection, but I got this one from a guy I know.”
“A guy you know? Do you mean illegally? Jesus, Dad, what is wrong with you?”
“Are you mad at me? I was protecting you.” The old man said as his face turned to a sad and confused look.
“Protecting me, from what? You just shot two people with a gun that might be illegal. Two powerful people and one was a member of your own family. Let's get to the subway and hope we don't get noticed.”
The woman, named Sammy, then ushers the old man out of the empty lobby with the same caution she used to get him out of the Harris Simmons headquarters.
“Okay now, I am going to take the gun.” She said as she hugged him and pulled the gun from his jacket and calmly slipped it into her pocket.
He then said, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you Sammy. I've dragged you into my drama.”
“We're family Dad, and so is Gill. Let's get you home and hope and pray for the best.”
Sammy then led him quickly to the subway. They made it to the platform without being seen. While they stood waiting, she said, “Let’s hope we don't see anyone we know.”
She looked around nervously and her father began talking and pleading to God, “Jesus help Sammy and me, I'm so confused, and I need you. Help Gill and Donald. Please, God, please God.”
Suddenly they could hear the screeching brakes of an incoming train. Sammy reminded him again, “Remember, be careful now, speak to no one on this train.”
They were able to board the train without a sighting of any friend or associate. Once aboard, they rode the train silently.
Sammy spoke as they approached their subway stop, “Okay, Dad, we've been lucky so far. Now when we get off on our stop, you will have to enter your apartment building by yourself. I need you to pull yourself together, so the doorman will not suspect anything.”
The old man finally seemed to be getting his wits about him and acknowledged this request by his daughter.
“I can do that Sammy. I’m good.”
“Great Dad, just stay cool.”
Sammy still looked cool on the outside, but her nerves were a wreck. She muttered to herself, low so that her Dad couldn't hear. “What in the hell have I gotten myself into? and why would my rich estranged father, Cornwall Harris, whom I have just reconciled with shoot his nephew and another man?”
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