Bring You Here: A Short Story

“I am so sorry I brought you here.”
I only had a moment to silently mouth those words to my teenage son before a second round of shots rang out, echoing loudly off of the towering glass and concrete structures surrounding us and sparking another wave of screams from the pockets of protestors trapped in the darkened doorways of locked businesses and behind cars that lined the now empty downtown streets. “I am so sorry,” I mouthed again.
Earlier in the day, as we prepared our signs for the rally, I explained to my teenage son the reasons for social justice activism and talked about why this event was so important: oppression of any group damages all of us. This was a gathering several of my friends in the ministry had been planning for a few

We’re going to be ok.”
Perry listened closely to the gunfire, and watching the movement of police officers to determine which direction they were focusing their attention he whispered, “It’s ok. We’re going to be ok. Look,” he said, pointing to the officers hunkered down in front of us. “They are watching something around the corner, let’s move down this way and we can cut back behind those buildings and get to the car.” Seeing the indecision on my face he pointed again, “Everything that’s happening is happening that way,” motioning toward the police two blocks east of

I looked up the street to confirm Perry’s observation, wiped the endless flow of stinging sweat from my eyes, and then turned to see if a protected path was behind us as another volley of shots cracked the silence, the sound echoing like sharp thunderclaps. “The car is about four blocks down, and if we can get over to the next block we should be safe all the way to the car.” I can’t protect you. I have no way of protecting you. “Go!” Running without looking back we crossed the first intersection, seeing others heading our way, wild-eyed and fearful. At the next street there was an officer nervously beckoning everyone his direction, telling us to quickly get around the corner and that we were probably safe now but to keep moving away from downtown. Shaking and out of breath, we walked rapidly to the car, being passed by an endless stream of emergency vehicles: SWAT, ambulances, fire trucks, police cars from neighboring towns. How many? Well, ALL of them it