Last Sunday we started our day with our usual beach walk looking for sea turtle nesting or hatching activity. We came home, did some work in the yard, and then we went to the beach at Chenay, where the Parrot’s Cove gang has been running the restaurant now called, Mahi’s. Our friend Maggie was having her birthday celebration there. We had a good time with good friends until around 8:30, when we decided to head home.
A short way after we’d turned onto the East End Road, we saw a deer lying on the side of the road. It was a 4 point buck. It was still alive. So we turned around and came back to check on it. It appeared to have moved itself closer to the road, but it was hard to tell in the dark. We parked across the street to shine the Rover’s headlights on it, Michael crossed the road and could hear it breathing heavily. We debated what to do and decided to call a friend who works for Fish and Wildlife. It was sunday night, so our hopes of finding someone who could help were pretty slim. Our friend’s voicemail box was full, so Michael called 911, if for nothing other than to see if a cop could help us move it so no one would hit its rack and get into an accident. We were also wondering if the 911 system which had just been majorly improved, according to much newspaper and radio hype, would really work. As he was talking to the 911 operator, a police car came by and the officer stopped to check on the deer. We spoke to him and by the time we got close enough, the poor creature had died. I mentioned that if he knew anyone who could butcher it, there would be plenty of fresh meat there for someone, and at least it wouldn’t go to waste. I thought I’d have fitful dreams of suffering wildlife. I think I dreamed of boats instead.
Monday and Tuesday, I got a little bit of painting done. And we fell asleep Tuesday night around 10:30 or 11pm.At around 12:25 am, the phone rang. My friend Joey in FL frequently calls to chat after going out at night. I rarely pick up unless it’s something important. We also get late night calls from horny creeps on STT looking for a “massage”. And once, my father called while I was staying at Michael’s house before we got married and left a cryptic message.
So I listen for the answering machine to pick up, usually still half-asleep. This time, when my daughter started speaking in her calm, measured voice, I remained calm until she said something about a shooting at the Greek. She carefully prefaced those words with, “…everyone who works here is okay….” but the shooting part made me scramble for the phone. Poor Michael could only hear my end of the conversation which went, “…ohmygod, ohmygod, are you alright? ohmygod, is he alright? He’s DEAD?! ohmygod, ohmygod….” She eventually hung up saying she had to answer some questions from the police.
Since the economy has been so crappy and she’s closed her business, she’s been working at the Greek, waiting tables and bar- tending. She’d been working with Beth that night and they’d had a great night. Busy, but steady and not manic, like the restaurant business can be sometimes.
We ruminated about what to do next. I was pacing. ” We have to go”, I kept saying. “There’s nothing we can do,” he replied. ” I can’t just stay here and do nothing, we have to check on Peter and Aaron and Seth, ohmygod, poor Seth!” I said. “Would you like me to call her back and ask her if we should come?”he asked.
“Yes!”
So Michael called and said, “Your mother is obviously a basket case, should we come?” She said that would be fine. We got dressed and drove down. We should have brought rum because no one was allowed inside at this point. And it would be that way for hours. I brought one small water bottle. We’d sip from it all night.
The next few hours were long and surreal. We got to the Greek and there were a dozen people scattered in small groups. There were some sitting on the ground huddling together under the Tamarind tree. There was sobbing. There were the police officers. There was the dishwasher and the neighbor. There were the musicians and friends walking around shell-shocked. My daughter was smoking a cigarette.
We hugged her and Papi, then Aaron, who had brought his son Seth into town before flying back after hearing from Mitchell that something bad had gone down at the Greek.
She told us that she was behind the bar, making herself an after-shift drink. They had taken in the outside chairs and tables and closed the shutters. They were just sitting around after a fun evening of music and merriment. The only person left in the kitchen was the dishwasher. Beth had brought a very drunk patron home, and many people had just left. Then masked men stepped inside and one of them took two shots, one of which was fatal. My daughter saw the gun go off and dove to the ground as did everyone else in the place.
Everyone tried calling 911, but the calls wouldn’t go through. My daughter called a friend of hers who is a cop. He answered immediately and soon the police arrived.
At around 2:15, the coroner’s truck arrived. We headed to the police station so Nikki could give them her statement.
It was around 2:45 when she was called in. 20-30 minutes later, other witnesses came out. Everyone was still in shock. An hour later, after computer difficulties, my daughter emerged. Papi had arrived, gone in and come out saying that he had nothing to add to the detailed descriptions the others had given.
My daughter came home with us rather than go home by herself. We had a bite to eat and some rum. The sun was coming up. I drank more rum and they went to bed. I went out to pick up dog poop. I did a load of laundry. I drank more rum. Then I went to bed too. It was around 6 am.
We were up at 9am listening for the news reports. Had the suspects been found? No. Still not as of this writing.
One of my clients hoped that the coming week would be a boring one. Me too.
!), I saw a bicyclist friend on the side of the road with a puppy she’d just found running on the side of the road. Of course she flagged me down, we chatted for a minute, but traffic behind me told me I had to get going. Apparently, there was another pup in the bush that she wasn’t able to catch. I already have my quota filled, and someone was there to help with the healthy, friendly pup.
