My wife and I stepped into the air conditioning and I got goosebumps. Somewhere around a corner, a woman wailed. Someone, loud, midwestern accent shouted: Ma'am, please calm down or I'm going to have to arrest you.
I laughed. I had to laugh: I didn't know what else to do. I stood in line and shuffled forward with everyone else --all colors of people, none of them talking, many staring at their mobile. Many with tight jaws in the beige halls. Around the corner, carefully stapled to a tack board was a picture of a class. The wailing escalated, it was coming from the gym The class had thirty students, all colors of smiling children and a handsome black teacher. I teared up, then. Swallowed it and checked my phone, too. Two fat, white police officers wrestled a woman in a hijab through the doors --she writhed like a cat in a lake and
and here we go. Are you ready? (I wasn't)
One of the police officers tried to wrap her in a headlock and as he did her niqāb slid up and as she tried to push out of the choke hold, the niqāb slid to the side and she sank her teeth into the cop, who yelped and let go, pushed her away; the woman sprawled on the floor with the cop jumping toward her, a boot heel raised aimed and I kicked his raised foot, stomped through the air, toes out and pushed him and shouted, "Serve and protect man! Serve and protect!" My voice cracked and I pissed myself and fell convulsing to the floor with my spine on fire. Tasered. Twitching I curled fetal and covered up, ribs and neck. I shouted "serve and protect!" --it came out as drool. Someone kicked me square and hard on the tailbone and I started choking on laughter, on spit.
I stuttered, my teeth chattered; I grit them. "Shit on you." I snarled and that is the last thing I remember.