My Son, Johnny

By RK

This story is about a father trying to seek for justice for the killing of his only child, and when this wasnt given, he decided to take matters in his own hands. But already, there were others seeking for the same thing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jun 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504383349

RK

Born and raised in Sierra Leone - a country filled with many good childhood dreams toppled with years of civil war at the same time. This made me to migrate to England at the age of twenty-one and from then on, decided to embark on an IT career that use to be male dominated. A wise man once told me, the desire for success is pursuit and as an IT Specialist & Support Analyst, Junior Network Administrator, a career then viewed by many for women as daunting in the early days, I made up my mind to go into this field, come what may and work with my dominating male counterparts. I am hugely grateful to my Heavenly Father for this huge accomplishment for being able to complete my university studies and excel among the male counterparts I worked with as an Engineer. I presently work as an IT Consultant and Engineer and at the same time running a micro IT Business in South East London.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

D ude.! Dodge! Dude, dude, dodge! The faded screaming of Johnny’s friend Ben echoed in the air like a distant siren. He continued to wave his hands relentlessly, aggressively, but there was no point. None whatsoever, he sighed. Ben was hopping like a kangaroo, continue his screaming but to no avail. For a split second, he thought it was okay, he thought Johnny will be fine. In retrospect, his friend will be okay, as he’d done in the past. It was like a scene from the Blair Witch Project, and when he wakes up from this bad dream, they’d laugh about it. After all Johnny junior is one of the nicest guys anyone could come across in his life. He was so nice that no one, young or old has anything bad to say about Johnny other than to sum it up, what a nice and fine young man he’d been; people always commended his dad, and go further about how he’d done it since his wife’s passing some years now. There were many commendable comments about Johnny, with a remarkable behaviour, a fine young man who will make some girl happy one day, they continue.

No one, not in a million years could have wished for this, I mean, what has happened. No one you see. It was a wet autumn morning, Thursday to be more precise; and the lads started their journey to school as they have done for so long as they could remember. First it was with their parents walking them to primary school and as they get older, it was time for secondary school and, and, it was all up to them except that they hesitated any bad comments or phone calls especially to Johnny’s father. He was tolerant but to some extent. Loving when he does his chores. Appreciating and compensate him for being good and completing his homework without a fight. No one could have anticipated the events that followed and leading to this fatal shooting of the future promise young man. But, whatever the anticipation, it was surreal. These are events that are happening and they are happening right in Ben’s own very eyes. He could not believe what was happening neither could he tell just how long it will take for someone breathing now and gone the next. Flashes of anticipation and fear overwhelmed him. He can see Johnny in the distance chatting with other mates as they rushed to catch the bus.

He heard the screeching of VW but at first, paid not too much attention to it. The screeching continued and as the car gets closer so is the screeching. It was like the driver was doing it deliberately. Whatever the intention, it was working. He turned around, the car was getting closer and closer until they quickly jumped on the pavement as the car swayed past them. It was of course deliberately driven unto them. For some reason or another, the person they wanted wasn’t with them in that group. And quickly, the car sped along the market street road to Johnny’s direction. Then, then, all he could see himself doing was to scream, and wave his hands, calling out Johnny, Johnny, but to no avail.

As the car gets closer and closer to Johnny, it stopped suddenly and the darkened windows wind down a fraction, then, then, the shooting began. In less than no time at all, Johnny was on the wet floor. The rain pursues its drizzling sensation as Johnny lay still, his first words were ‘my dad’, my dad’ he said slowly.

Johnny was on the floor, helpless. There was an unusual freeze that has overpowered his body. He was shaking relentlessly. He’d seemed calm but no one could tell whether it’s because of his pain. He was bleeding profoundly, his face turning blue and trembling whilst trying to utter some words. There was some kinda nervousness amongst his friends, each recalculating and tracing back to the last few seconds that will forever hunt them. They’d rushed to him like a wild fire, kicking and hissing, trying to exhibit their inexplicability. They looked at each other, putting words to what they have seen, re-echoing on traces of evil as one of their own has been hit. It wasn’t a pretty site, far from it, as they rethink on what’s next, they’d also came with the realisation that even the greatest cannot always be saved and here lies that example. The evil that men do, they came to a conclusion! But these are not men and above all, this is no longer the Shakespearean era, they are boys another friend corrected. They knelt beside him, trying to rework a miracle. Now even that science homework they have been discussing seemed to be out of their thoughts. It was least of their worries. What could anyone benefit from taking the life of another, they said in unison. Their friend Johnny seemed to have been the wrongful target, life is a bitch, full of many miracles and unsolved dilemmas. It was as though their little world has been brought to a stand-up situation. But this is it, lads will be lads and men are distinguishable, real stuff means that finding a solution, dealing with diplomacy….

Johnny continues to bleed senselessly and as it is beginning to click, there seemed nothing anyone can do to be able to stop the bleeding. As they watch him disintegrate, they knew there is little anyone could do to save a best friend, one whose life has just begun. He looked dazed, in a coma tossed aptitude. And all of a sudden, his eyes were dimming. His hand clinched tightly to one of his other friend. They watched him slip away, slowly and painfully. Police and ambulance arrived almost immediately. There was a cliché of serenity and control in the streets of Camden and before long, the nearby streets became police controlled, ambulance and crew only, to be more precise. The four friends looked dazed and confused; propelled with an everlasting traumatic events and of seeing one of their fallen comrade. They looked scared and there was every reason to be scared; as it stands, it could have been any one of them. This wasn’t something seen on the cover of a lads magazine as reality continued to kick-in with a painful reminder. As they knelt beside him, they could see their tears and blood all rolling into one. The realisation was cutting through their tender hearts: the pain was too much to bear but all the same, they have held it together until now, until they heard Johnny’s father screaming across the streets. He had an awkward emancipated walk that to him meant his world had come crashing down on him. Officers invaded his path, trying effortlessly to stop the unstoppable, but to no avail. How the news had reached Johnny’s father remained unexplained. The lads were frozen, they could see him nearer and nearer and the look in his face tells a different story. Just as it was told, the vivid reflection of it became a reality. He could see the tubes around his son’s body by paramedics, the pumping of his heart, the many attempts to revive him, all that was giving a dim picture of the unexplained. Johnny could see the artistic human like picture on the floor but never anticipated that to be his son’s. The whole revival thing was killing him, slowly. There were flashes of laughter, of pain and anguish and also of joy, all at the same time. He looked so close and yet so far away. He bend his left knee and lifted up his son and began to walk away. Everyone could see the pain coming to surface as he knelt down again and lay him precisely on the same spot as the one he’d just picked him up from. He held him close to his chest and can hear his son muttered words as dad I am afraid to die. He lay beside him, praying fervently and ghastly. He was wishing for a miracle, just this time, he thought, looking at the blue skies above as he continues to clinch onto his son’s body. The ambulance crew ushered both father and son inside the ambulance wiring his body as though he’d been transformed to a computerised readable data robot. There was something telling him that, this was it as he glanced at the ambulance crews faces that elated an everlasting frown. He looked at them again to what seemed like the ninety-ninth time and lost his patience; what the fuck is happening with my son, Johnny senior demanded.

The shooting was quick and swift and before long, the once crowded market street that housed so many people going to work and school children, has become a ghost street. No one ventured from their hiding place. Not long, the sirens had begun. The nearby streets overpopulated with police. Near where Johnny lay dying, the police had sealed off the street from both oncoming and outgoing traffic. The train station was closed. In essence, there was no coming in or going out. As men in white coats were trying to revive Johnny junior, the police have opened up their myriad of questioning. They asked questions after questions, talking to Ben who as it was expected was not in the slightest mood to say anything but ‘find them’ find them’ or they will do it again’, he sobbed.

Everyone was in dismay, there were screaming everywhere by everyone, people trampolining up and down the busy street on each other. The Underground was sealed off at the same time. And all of a sudden, the mayhem caused was inexplicable. There were tight faces and scared ones, wounded ones, all seemed to be pushing and dodging to opposite directions. All the nearby streets became home to those panicked commuters. The focus is yet to be demobilised. The anticipated thrill beginning to get out of hands.

Both Ben and Bailey, Ben’s other school friend held hands as though asking God to forgive their sins and bring back their friend Johnny. ‘Why Johnny’ the lads asked in unison. Sometimes life can be unfair, they nodded their heads as if agreeing to what wasn’t said at all. They reeled through their minds, search their souls for answers but none could be found. What took place moments ago and what might have been the cause of all this, they tried to search through the unknown, but nothing was their other than popular, popular as everyone calls their friend Johnny. Could this be the cause for what has happened, they both thought and in some ways, though it doesn’t makes any sense, but for now, that’d do.

Notwithstanding it relentlessness or consequences, Ben remained in a colossal state, waiting for someone to come and assure him it’s alright. But no, the pain was surreal, indeed.

‘We are sorry, sir’, one of the men said.

Just then, Johnny senior clinched to his son’s body, tightly. Something telling him that this is not true, there was a sudden coldness that rundown his spine. He was speechless and at the same time, wanting to speak. He became powerless as his powers were now overtaken by those of the authority. He looked around to see if someone else could say something different and waited.

He’d just gone into a mode of storytelling, in his head . About his life with his mother. Johnny junior was laughing, he’d begun by saying dad, I am sorry. Sorry for what, his father interrogated. Sorry for what, for being hurt by someone else and you are sorry. Johnny senior could feel his heart racing, his BP higher than expected. He could see his thoughts shattered to a big mountain and there were no rescuers to rescue him. He could see his mounted thoughts crashing like an infected computer and unable to act. He could see his vision and all those propelled hopes seeking for a last chance. Whatever it was, he’s damn sure his path had taken a sudden reverse onto a dead-end road. How could he explain to himself that he had no family to care for. How could he introduce himself when all his comrades put their families before him. He’d drifted to a cloud fifteen where reality was far from the meaning of the word.

Ben and Bailey rose on their feet and followed the direction that Johnny senior had taken, their entirety usurped by what they have witnessed. It was a time to reflect on so many things, so many. They had a fixation of events in their minds, a reflection of what lies ahead, without one of them seemed impossible to contemplate on.

The doctors had tried to revive the boy wonder who’d made a name for himself. Good deed was his virtue and popularity his after-life. He’d gone pale and cold but that doesn’t stop his father from talking to him, taking a last shot at the slimmest chance that might, just might be present. His father continued his conversations, like in a court room where the Judge directs the conversation for others to follow. But as he does that, he’d grown likeness to the blue skies. And as he uttered the words to his son, there was a depth fixation to the heavens above as if to say this was my only hope. And indeed. The conversation was rhythmic and melodic, with dramatic curves and uptown twists, yelling and screaming and continued with a sublime vigour that he himself cannot explain. But as he looked down to his son, he could see everyone gazing at him as though they were trying to tell him, there is no point in what he was doing, but lacked every damn courage. The doctor walked towards him, fixing his eyes at him saying, you have to let go now, sir. He looked around him, and everyone’s expression seemed not so far off from the other. There was a uniqueness of the sombre mood, a perpetual reflection of another life gone through stupidity. He looked puzzled, pale and nervous. He’d jelled into an after-life where he cannot be touch. All of a sudden, Johnny senior has gone without words, failed to find an answer to all the bouncing back questions and it was the first. He remembered the last heated conversation with his son when he said that Arsenal lacked even the little credibility when they played against Tottenham. The soulful