Cross Country

in the States, and it seemed like child’s play now, nothing compared with what I’d seen in the past weeks.
    I was shaken out of my reverie when the cab slid over to the side of the road.
What was wrong now?
I was home, and still misfortune followed me? What —
a flat tire?
    The driver peered back and nervously announced, “Engine trouble. I am sorry. Very sorry.” Then he pulled a gun and yelled,
“Traitor! Die!”

Chapter 125
    SOMEBODY WAS STUBBORNLY ringing the front-door bell at the Cross house. Ringing it again and again and again.
    Nana was in Ali’s bedroom, putting him down the way he liked her to, lying in bed next to him until the sweet boy drifted off to sleep as she whispered the words of a favorite story.
    Tonight the book was
Ralph S. Mouse,
and Ali wouldn’t stop giggling at every page, often a couple of times on the same page, saying, “Read it again, Nana. Read it again.”
    Nana waited patiently for Jannie to get the front door. But it rang again, and then again. Persistent and rude and maddening. Jannie had been making a cake in the kitchen.
Where was that girl? Why didn’t she answer the door?
    “Now who can it be?” Nana mumbled as she pushed herself up and out of Ali’s bed. “I’ll be right back, Ali. . . .
Janelle, you are trying my patience, and that’s not a good idea
.”
    But when she got to the living room, Nana Mama saw that Janelle was already at the door — which was flung wide open.
    A strange boy in a red Houston Rockets basketball shirt was
still
ringing the bell.
    “Are you some kind of a crazy person?” Nana called out as she hobbled quickly across the foyer. “Stop that bell ringing this instant! Just stop it now. What do you want here so late? Do I know you, son?”
    The boy in the Rockets jersey finally took his hand off the bell. Then he held up a sawed-off shotgun for Nana to see, but she kept coming forward until she protectively held Jannie.
    “I will kill dis stupid girl in a second,” he said. “And I will kill you, ol’ woman. I will not hesitate jus’ ’cause you de detective’s family.”

Chapter 126
    IT ALL HAPPENED so fast in the taxi and caught me completely off guard and unprepared, but I saw a chance, and I had to take it.
    I didn’t think the cab driver was an experienced killer. He’d hesitated instead of just pulling the trigger and shoot-ing me.
    So I lurched forward and grabbed the gun and his hand at the same time.
    Then I smashed his wrist against the taxi’s metal partition. I smashed it again as hard as I could.
    The man yelped loudly and he let go of the gun. I pulled it away and swung it toward him.
    Suddenly he ducked low and then flung himself out the front door.
    I jumped out the back door, but he was already scampering down a grassy hill. Then he disappeared into a thicket of woods off to the side of the highway.
    I had a shot with his gun, but I didn’t take it. He’d called me “traitor.” Just like the flight attendant.
    Did he believe that, or was he doing what he’d been told?
    I pictured the man’s face, gaunt, a goatee, maybe in his midtwenties. A soldier? A thug? His accented English showed hints of a Nigerian dialect. So who had sent him after me — the Tiger? Somebody else? Who?
    I tried not to speculate on conspiracy theories right now. Not here, not yet.
    The keys were still in the ignition, and without much deliberation I decided to drive the taxi home. I’d call Metro once I was there.
    But what would I tell them — how much of this strange and disturbing story?
    And how much would I tell Nana? She wouldn’t be happy to see me like this: driving a cab — taken from the driver, who had wanted to kill me.

Chapter 127
    IT TOOK ONLY a few minutes for me to get to the house on Fifth Street.
    I parked the cab out on the street. Suddenly I was sprinting toward the house. On the way home, I had started to worry about Nana and the kids.
    Was everyone all right? Maybe this was just more paranoia on my part. But maybe it wasn’t. The Tiger went after families, didn’t he? And someone had just tried to kill me. I wasn’t making that up.
    I was startled by Rosie the cat, who snuck up behind me on the front lawn.
    Who had let Rosie out? She was a committed indoor cat. I could see she was highly agitated. Why was that? What had happened? What had Rosie seen?
    “Nana,” I called as I ran up the front steps. “Nana!”
    I turned the knob —
and the door wasn’t locked
.
    That wasn’t right either.