In The Alley

A Story by Manictastic

A story about a young man and his experience with police brutality.

It had been a soggy day in Cincinnati. Night was falling. The city streetlights suddenly ignited and blushed their orange hue over the decrepit buildings. Jay came from Washington Park. He needed to get out of his small apartment. He had wanted to stretch his legs a bit, so he decided to go to the park. He knew well enough that after sunset the park was not the place to be therefore he was very keen to get out of there on time. The wet leaves took his memory back to his ancestral home in Maine. He had had a good childhood and was spared from many negative encounters. Since he lived in the Porkopolis things had changed. He knew that people were not always to eager to treat him with full respect but that did not bother him all that much to be honest.

When he reached the corner of Liberty and Race, a cop car cruised down the street. Jay briefly gazed at the car and gently turned onto Liberty to get to his apartment. He felt much more at ease now that he knew police officers were on duty to keep the streets protected. He put his hands into his pockets, shook his head a bit and sauntered through the street. He had to cross the road to walk northerly on Vine. He stepped up to the curb. Looked left. Looked right. Jay saw that the police car had pulled over and went across Liberty.

St. Francis Seraph Church seemed so peaceful and quite in the shimmering shine of the streetlights. He quickly said a prayer. His memory slipped back into the past and he remember the first time he went to church. He felt a bit queer when he entered the building. It was such an old building, he remembered. Jay had the feeling the roof would collapse. It was so cold and dark. People were quiet. His mother wore high heels and was the only one who made noise. Everybody stared angrily at them. He thought they wanted to kill them.

The priest started the mass and told the story of Jesus. He was such a brave man. Fighting for what he believed was right. Not scared of anybody. Not of Romans. Not of his own countrymen. He willingly sacrificed his life. Jay had great respect for Jesus. Yet he never liked the church back in Maine. The people kept staring at them when they entered. He saw some people peevishly whispering stuff to each other. Since he lived in Cincinnati he never entered a church again. Fearing those eyes. Those eyes of disgruntlement.

A friar of the St. Francis Seraph Church was locking the door. When he saw Jay, he waved. Jay waved back. He had a sudden urge to enter the building. No one was around except for the friar. There would be nobody looking angrily at him. Maybe he could confess his sins. A strong wind from the north changed his plans. It would be cold soon. Freezing maybe. Jay now wanted to get home soon. It wasn't far anymore. Two blocks and a half. Then he could get warmed up. Even drink a beer to heat up. He couldn't wait. He took his hands out of his pockets and blew them warm. He was shivering. He quickened his pace to get back.

Suddenly a heavy light fell upon him. Sirens shouted him to a halt. His heart beat was pounding. He got thrown against the wall. Pushed. Hard against it. His face could smell the brickwork. Two police officers handcuffed him. They did not read him his rights. Jay couldn't think of what he did wrong. He did not jay-walk. He did not cross the road without checking if there were cars coming. He was stunned. Puzzled and perplexed. The officers dragged him along with them. To an ally. His heart beat was pounding ever quicker.

"What do we got here?" said one of the officers.
"Looks to me as a drug dealer." replied the other.
"I saw him coming out of that park."
"Most definitely a drug dealer then."
"Or a junkie, which is as worse."

Jay did not know what hit him. He wasn't a drug dealer but he was to sedated to reply. He was to impressed by this unimaginable act.

"Did you sell drugs in the park, boy?"

Jay couldn't say no. He couldn't get that simple sound over his lips. His vocal cords could not close to create enough air pressure to make understandable noise.

"Not talking. Clearly he is hiding something."
"Why don't we use this little toy?"

Twenty thousands volts went through Jay's body. His muscles contracted. His heart. His biceps. His triceps. His quadriceps. Every inch of his body felt it. Every inch wanted it to stop.

"Were you selling dope, dope head?" yelled one of the officers loudly. "Were you?"

Jay screamed. He didn't know what was happening. He did not do anything and now...

"I never understood why you can't use electric shocks on prisoners of war but we can on our own citizens."
"Well that's because a prisoner of war isn't fighting arrest and this one is by not answering our questions."
"Maybe he wasn't selling drugs."
"He is, you can see it. Look at him."
"Stun him again, he'll talk soon."

Another dose went through his carcass. He smelled something was burning. Jay cried. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to stop.

"Now scream if this is your story: You went to the park to sell your dope. You sold out. You walked away from the park to buy some more to sell. You saw us and started running. You threw away you money to not look suspicious."

Jay screamed. He got stunned again. Every inch of his body wanted to scream.

"Dispatch this is patrol car One-Two-Nine, we've got a drug dealer under arrest after a serious struggle. We stunned him three times but we have him under control now. We're bringing him in. Over."

Dispatch returned: "Over and out."