To Wrest Our Bodies From the Fire by T. Thorn Coyle

Author:T. Thorn Coyle [Coyle, T. Thorn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PF Publishing

28

Jasmine

I was already regretting the orange turtleneck layered under the long black Panther leather coat, and the black beret. It was cool out for Los Angeles, but warming up by the minute.

And walking down the sidewalk of East Los Angeles, I could only wish I was in South Central, instead.

I wanted to get down to 41st and Central, but my parents would freak. Not that I would let that stop me. Mostly, I knew my energy needed to focus on the Association. Getting shot at by the LAPD wasn’t going to help the movement, not short term or long.

I hated that I even had to think in those terms, but one thing I was learning from Jimmy and the Panthers was strategy. Other folks were holding it down in front of headquarters down here. Angela Davis and Ericka Huggins didn’t need my body down there.

It disappointed me, for sure. To come all this way and not meet some of the heroes of the revolution. But my Panther discipline was intact. The folks coming to rely on us for magical protection needed everything I had.

We had to start training people down here, too. As soon as we got the Association’s head out of its ass. If not, Cecelia was on board anyway, which meant Carol and Ernesto would have backup.

Carol and Ernesto were just ahead of me on the sidewalk. What was up with those two anyway? Carol insisted nothing was happening, but it sure didn’t smell that way to me. Their bodies leaned toward each other as they walked, blond hair and black, bare inches apart, listening to more than the words they were exchanging.

I could tell Ernesto was stopping himself from touching Carol, from sliding an arm around the rust-colored leather coat cinched around her slim waist. Her blond head was bare, and a navy corduroy skirt swished between the coat and almost matching rust-colored knee boots.

Of course Carol was in denial. She’d had a crush on Ernesto Alvarez practically since the day she arrived from Minnesota.

Huh. Must be a trip to find out your schoolgirl dreams could come true, like some romance novel. Like the novels Carol thought I didn’t know about, shoved under the twin bed of her room in the Mansion.

That girl needed to deal. She also needed to move out of the Mansion someday. The sooner, the better, as far as I was concerned.

I hadn’t been in East LA in a long time, but it looked exactly the same. Fruit stands, piled-up vegetables, the tire stores, hardware, little craft shops and bakeries. And the piñata sellers. I guessed those never went out of season.

The scents were what I loved best about East LA. Exhaust fumes, of course. They were a constant undercurrent, building the smog-filled air, leaving the biting taste of lead way back in my molars. But that was layered over by palo santo, rubber, burnt sugar, coffee, cigarettes, and oranges. Occasionally I’d catch a whiff of fresh tortillas, or everything would get overpowered by the greasy stench of fried pork skin.

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