He turned around. Lancette’s mouth was below the water level. He took one more breath, expanding his lungs to the point where there was pain. He dropped below the water, and undid her seat belt, and grabbed her by the shoulders. He tugged, and she lifted off the seat. But she was caught on something. Addis placed his hands in her armpits and heaved. She moved only inches. He tried again. Nothing.

There was no air in the car. Addis’s chest began to tighten. He clawed at the spot where he thought she might be caught. He grabbed her left arm and pulled as hard as he could.

Get out, a voice said. Get out, so you can breathe.

Julia! he screamed silently. Julia!

Get out. Get out.

He could not get her free. His chest was exploding. He let go and pushed his way through the remains of the rear window. He swam a stroke or two to the surface. He looked at where the figure had stood. No one was there. He gulped air, shouted for help, and dove back beneath the surface.

He could see little. He felt his way back into the car. He cut his hand and face against shards of glass. He grasped Lancette and tried once more. He could not get her out of the car.

In less than a minute, the words returned: Get out, get out.

He went back to the surface, yelled again, and swam back to the submerged car. He did this several times. At one point, he heard a siren. Then he saw flashing lights and headlights illuminating the lock. On his last dive, beams of light pierced the water. He could see Lancette’s hair floating, the long strands flowing upward, moving with the water. As if part of her were still alive.

44 - Bennington Gardens June 30

44

Bennington Gardens June 30

Starrell sat at the dining area table and sifted through letters, pages of assorted writings, and newspaper clips.

“What’s a ‘psyop’?” he asked.

Willie and Anjean Jameson were on the couch in their mother’s apartment, waiting for the television news.

“That badass with one eye,” Anjean said.

“Fool,” Willie snorted. “It’s a combo: ‘psychological’ and ‘operation’—”

There was a knock on the door. The three went quiet. Starrell gathered the papers into a pile. Willie stepped gently to the door. Anjean moved to a far corner of the room. Another round of pounding. Their mother coughed loudly in her bedroom. Willie slipped on the chain lock.

“Who is it?” he shouted through the door.

The door vibrated with a slam. Willie jumped back.

“Open the door!” a woman yelled.

It was Tamika Timmons. Willie let her in. She was wearing jeans and a loose, blue Snoopy sweatshirt that did not hide her pregnancy. Her hair was braided into corn rows. She strode past Willie.