The Gravely Journal

Life, It's Murder

When Healy and I arrived at the Happy Prayers Church, the street was cordoned off with yellow police tape. Cops redirected traffic. My heart sank. Cops don't seal off streets unless it's serious shit. I turned to my boyfriend, happy that he'd come with me, but I felt bad. When you think about it, I'd already put the guy through quite a bit, with my father's story and all. We stopped short of the police line, just standing there, melting in with a few of the gawkers gathered on the sidewalk across from the church. The police presence made me uneasy. I turned to Healy to let him know what I was thinking.

"This is family business, and it could take a while," I said. "You don't know my uncle, so I'll understand if you take off."

Healy didn't even pause before he answered. "Hey, Grave, a deal's a deal," was his comeback. "Us against whatever, right?"

The wind was blowing, and the tape lashed about furiously creating a surreal din. A uniformed cop stood in the middle of the road, directing traffic away from the street. I was scared and hesitant to approach the police tape without knowing what awaited on the other side. Aside from the police presence, none of the curiosity seekers around us knew what was going on. My head spun, and I needed a few more seconds to compose myself, thinking the worse about Mitch. Healy could see I was getting more upset by the minute. While I stood on the curb, he stepped into the road to chat up the cop. What was going down? Was it a robbery? Somebody boost the 'poor box', he joked? Did one of the religious statues come to life? He knew any information might cushion me for the long walk to the church's front door.