My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman

Thursday, August 16, 2001

Taking aim

>> Portlock

The butcher knife with the 12-inch blade which she had sharpened yesterday was now in Rosalita Resurreccion's hands. The same knife that the beast on the bed beside her had used to rape her. But his attention was on a man who was on his hands and knees in the hallway. Like Rosalita he was bleeding.

The beast was struggling to pull up his black surf shorts with one hand, with the other keeping his silver .22 pistol pointed at the guy on the ground. He thought Rosalita was still unconscious. But two gunshots and being hit in the face with plaster shards from where a bullet entered the wall just above her head had roused her.

The shorts were up to his knees now, and the beast swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand up. Rosalita drew the knife back, focused on a mole on the back of his neck and stabbed down.

>> Queen's Medical Center

In a coma, with air tubes in his nose and another tube leading from the back of his head to drain away blood that was building up pressure in his brain, Lance Ah Sun was such a sad sight, it was almost grotesque. So it seemed to his father.

The only sign of life were the electronic screens that monitored blood pressure, respiration and pulse.

Sheets Ah Sun had never understood his son, not once in his 22 years, but he did understand the gravity of the situation. His youngest son's life was in danger. "Mama, I think I better let Lily know," he said, reaching for his cell phone.

His wife Grace was standing beside the bed where Lance lay, silently weeping. She nodded, waved toward the door. "I don't want him to hear," she whispered.

What could a person in a coma, as dead as alive, possibly hear? But Sheets didn't want to upset his wife any more. He nodded, stepped outside into the ICU hallway.

Grace leaned close to her youngest child, whispered in his ear: "Oh Lance, I love you so much. Did you know I saw it happen today, from my office? Lance, I know what your being at the hate crimes rally means. I've known for a long time, honey, and it's OK. Whether or not you're gay doesn't change how much I love you. I'm your mother, I'll always love you, no matter what. Just come back to me, Lance. Please just come back to me."

Maybe it was her imagination, but Grace thought she saw his left eye twitch.

Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at

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