“You know,” he said, stepping toward her, “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can just set yourself down here. There are ladies who work in this building who are afraid to come down here because of you. Do you realize that? Do you? This amounts to harassment. You need to vacate the premises. Immediately.”

“This is public,” she started to say, but it was too late, she was near tears or near outburst or both. So she just walked away and tried to find her car, but, naturally, for a good five minutes couldn’t. At last she did, got in the front seat with its sweet smell of cigarettes, and lit up, locking the doors too. She wished she had window shades. She wanted to pull them down and cry her eyes red. “Fuck!” she said, too loud. “Fuck.” This was just, just so—She looked. He was talking to a woman in a maternity dress by a car only two parking spaces away from her. Another man joined them.

She began searching for her keys in her purse. This was unbelievable. These people were seriously entitled. And it sure didn’t matter that he was a brother; he was one of them, and he was proud, pleased, and puddle-drunk with earning white folks’ approval. There, there were her keys.

She started the engine. She began to back out timidly, afraid in her state she’d hit something or someone. The trio stared at her. She could feel their eyes on her near-weepiness. She finally cleared the cars and garage columns, then wound around the driveway. In her rearview she could see they were still watching her—oh, come on, was one of them writing down her license plate?

From his window, Will could see her driving away. She was so close, but way too far. He’d been there. He wanted to tell her why she kept missing. He felt for her.

One of his linguists said they should have had the security guard escort her to her car. The guy was typical. Will asked him why use a hammer when all you need is your fist. The fist is free. The hammer has to be purchased and stored.

And this too: always let the inadvertent ally do for you. Those other tenants in the building—they were shooing her away. They did more to discourage and demoralize her than any security guard.

Always practice strategic thinking. How many times a day did he have to say it?

His linguist got it. But he’d never have thought of it on his own. Aggression and leverage were not a word man’s specialty.

They surely weren’t hers.

She’d found him, though. That was impressive.

’Course, she found only his address.

She found him but didn’t know it.