Like a Phoenix

Miley heard the commotion outside and had the natural instinct to hide. She was under her bed when her father came barreling into her room. “Miley!” her father called out “we’ve gotta get outta here!” He picked her little body up and holding her tightly to his he rushed down the hallway and out the door. While she was still scared, she felt a lot better being in his arms. “Where is mommy?” Miley whispered. “She’s ok... she’ll be ok.”

They made it outside – there was so much smoke – billowing out of the windows and the front door. Miley looked up to see their little house engulfed in flames. Her father opened the car door and placed her next to her mother in the backseat who was holding a towel to the side of her head. Her mother’s eyes were closed but she reached out to pull Miley closer - “I’m going back in for Nicky”. He lowered his head and with great courage and no hesitation he faded into the smoke of the house which was now too thick to see but through the glow of fire and now on the floor - army crawling - he spotted the dog hiding under the table in the corner of the room. Miley’s father now hardly able to breath reached the small terrier and with an unexplainable swiftness made it back through the front door before the ceiling collapsed behind him. The sound of the crumbling house and the roar of the fire was deafening and on the quiet street it lit up the night’s sky.

“What happened Daddy?” Miley asked. “We’ll talk about it later baby, right now we have to get mommy to the hospital.” Her father started the car, taking one last look at the place only a short time before was their home. The only place they had ever lived as a family - A place of safety, rest, and love, engulfed in flames and hardly recognizable. The sirens of the firetruck were getting closer but still faint and in the distance.

A few hours later, their little family was safe and her mother was now sitting upright in the hospital bed – stitched up and bandaged she seemed to be recovering nicely. The nurses were very attentive and kind and the doctor gave Miley a stethoscope to hang onto because she was being so brave. She was listening to Nicky’s heart beat with the officers arrived.

Two men, both about the same size one older than the other appeared in the doorway. The knock on the door felt much louder and harder than that of the doctors or nurses. “Mr. & Mrs. Smith?” Her father immediately stood up “yes, hi, thank you for coming.” Miley’s mother propped herself up a little straighter and warmly smiled at the two officers.

“You have had quite the night – haven’t you?” Said the younger of the two.

“We have sir.” Miley’s father responded with an almost submissive tone. “Thankfully, we are all in one piece and the doctors think my wife will be just fine”.

“If you all are alright, Mr. Smith why are we here?” the older of the officer asked.

“Well, sir, my wife was assaulted this evening and our house was set on fire. If it’s possible I would like to press charges.”

“Do you know who is responsible?” the same older officer asked.

Miley’s father hesitantly responded “No sir, not exactly.”

The younger officer chimed in before his more seasoned partner “Mr. Smith, we understand that your family has had quite the night. But, if you don’t know who is responsible, the best we can do is file a report.”

The younger officer gave Miley a smile “Is it alright if I ask you some questions?”

Miley’s mother encouraged her to speak “it’s ok, Miley, you can answer him if you want.”

Miley turned toward officer “ok.”

“Where were you tonight when all of this was happening?”

Miley answered quietly “In my bed.”

“Did you see or hear anything?” the officer asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“And what was that?” Prompting her to continue…

“There was a lot of yelling and I heard something break and then my daddy came to get me.”

“Where was your mom when the yelling was going on?”

Miley though for a second – “she was in the car holding her head and then daddy went to get Nicky.” She very gently patted the dog who was curled up in her lap.

The older officer, directed his question to Miley’s mother “Why don’t you tell us the whole story.”

“I work at Wegmans on 36th and got out a little later than I usually do. I was driving home at about 9 and stopped at a red light. A car pulled up next to me and there were two men playing loud music - yelling. My window was shut so I didn’t realize that they were yelling at me until the driver got out of his car and pounded on the passenger side door. The light turned green so I took off. They followed me and I tried to lose them but they tried to run me off the road.”

The older officer chimed in “what were they yelling?”

“They were calling me all sorts of names and slurs.”

“Ma’am, can you be more specific?” the older officer seemed to be losing his patience.

Sternly she responded “I can sir, but my daughter is only five and I’d prefer her not to hear the types of things they were calling me.”

“Mommy, I know what they were calling you.” Miley turned to the officer and with the kind of innocent charm and honesty only a five-year-old has - she continued – “They called my mommy a Nigger” - intending to console her “It’s ok, mommy, I heard them yelling It at you.”

“What happened after they tried to run you off the road?” The younger officer asked.

Miley’s mother felt as if her heart was in her throat “I didn’t know where else to go so I drove home as fast as I could and when I pulled up to the house, they blocked my car in the driveway. I almost made it to the front steps before one of them grabbed me. I screamed and that’s when my husband came outside. One of the guys had picked me up but I was fighting back as hard as I could to get away and he lost his grip. I fell and then tried to run but I got hit me over the head with something.”

“It was a tire iron, Cass.” Her husband added and then continued “The other guy was digging in the trunk and then the next thing I knew he threw a flaming bottle through the window. I ran towards him but before I could make contact he was in the car and they were pulling away. The bottle exploded and that’s when the fire started. I grabbed a towel from the backseat - wrapped her head, went in for Miley, back in for the dog and then we came here.”

“And you don’t know who these two men are? It was just a random act of violence?” The older officer asked rhetorically.

“No, I don’t know who they are.” Miley’s mother was trying to remain calm. “They were yelling racial slurs at me sir, that is a hate crime – they were saying that there are too many of US and that no one would miss one Nigger. That is not random sir, that is hate and hate is not random. The only thing that could be considered random was that it was me instead of another person of color driving home. But their hate was not random.”

After a moment of silence, the younger officer said. “I know this is uncomfortable and that you are upset but can you tell us anything about the car or describe the two men?” Miley’s father shared as many details as he could which admittedly wasn’t much, “It all happened so fast.”

The younger officer took the information down “without any way of identifying them there isn’t much we can do. Here is my card – if they bother you again or you think of something else give us a call” and with that the two men left.

The moment was heavy, ripe full of heart-ache mixed with gratitude. The truth is that this evening could have ended a lot differently and Miley’s parents know that deeply.

After a while Miley sat up “Mommy, why do they hate us?”

With a great pause and a heavy heart, “I wish I had a reason to give. There is no good reason to see another person as ‘yours’ to destroy. There will never be a good enough reason. Some people think they are better than us because they were born into a skin color that society deems better.” And without missing a beat Miley asked “what’s a society?”

The attending night nurse happened to be standing in the doorway when Miley asked the question “a society is a group of people that live in the same area, it can be something wonderful because with many voices and people you can move mountains, but it can also be something very scary, dangerous, and destructive.” The nurse, a woman with an olive complexion and a bright smile took the reins of the room. “Alright everyone, you have all had a long night’ - checking the bandage, ‘it’s time to get some rest – I’m going to turn the light down, but I’m right outside if you all need anything.’’ The nurse closed the door and shortly there after they all fell asleep.

A few hours later, Miley very gently woke her mother up. “Mommy! Look!” Pointing to a beautiful bouquet of flowers – so many Marigolds - bright little balls of fluffy orange and yellow flowers. Their colors were so vibrant and bold they filled the room with warmth and joy. Her mother read the card out loud.

“The night you had is something I am grateful not to have experienced and I’m fairly certain won’t, merely because of the color of my skin. We use Marigolds in our Dia de los Muertos celebrations because they represent the fragility of life but also remind us of how vibrant a life is. What most people don’t realize is that Marigolds are resilient and strong. They can grow in almost any climate and are the first to pop up through the earth after a fire and for me represent a phoenix rising from the ashes. We as a society cannot change the centuries of horrors African Americans have experienced but we as individuals can change our way of thinking one by one, family by family, community by community and maybe one day we won’t try to find reasons to enslave someone else to feel powerful. I wish you and your family a long and happy life. With much love your night nurse, Carmelita.

Later that day, back at their house, there was nothing to go through- nothing to be salvaged. Miley’s mother held her family close and remembered the words the nurse had shared. Gently removing one flower she walked over to where the front door use to stand and there on the threshold she placed the strong and resilient Marigold down and whispered. “In honor of those that were not so lucky”. She bowed her head in a moment of silent reverence, gratitude, and respect and made her way back to the car.