LaRoe: Brothers
Chapter 7
Jonah LaRoe studied the small handgun placed on the table before him. He refused to touch it. He stared at it, fear swelling within him.
“Jonah, take it,” Messer demanded. “Pick up the gun.”
“Derek, when you said you needed a f-favor,” Jonah stuttered, “I thought you meant a procedure or an operation.”
“Take the fucking gun Jonah!”
Jonah felt helpless. He was the first black Chief of Thoracic Surgery at Clark Hospital. For years, he rose through the ranks to become one of the premier surgeons in Atlanta. Now he felt helpless.
“I’ve spent my life saving people’s lives—”
“I won’t say it again!” Messer shouted. He waited and watched Jonah, who wouldn’t budge. Messer snatched the gun from the table and pressed it against Jonah’s forehead.
”Wait!”
“It’s you or him!”
“Okay… okay,” Jonah surrendered.
Jonah put his hand out and Messer placed it in his hand. Jonah stared at it again but couldn’t fathom pulling the trigger. He moved on from all of that. As a teenager growing up in Chicago, Jonah was sucked into the criminal life. But being a member of a gang gave him a sense of pride. A sense of belonging. A sense he no longer needed. He was a prominent member of the Atlanta medical community today. Who would he be tomorrow?
“Derek, he’s your brother.”
“Just do it, Jonah,” Messer said angrily. “You wanted in. We let you in. You took a break to make a career for yourself. That’s respectable. But you don’t get to just walk away from us. Donnie was my brother. But he turned against all of us.”
Messer left. Jonah dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed his eyes but he wasn’t dreaming. He wished it had been a nightmare.
The hours passed slowly. When it got late, Messer returned. He told Jonah that his brother would be along soon. And to prepare himself. Jonah felt sick to his stomach. He thought the feeling might kill him. That would be the easy way out.
There was a knock at the door. Jonah’s 43-year-old body felt like it was 97. He couldn’t make his legs stand up. Messer waited in the kitchen. Jonah didn’t want him to shout again so he summoned the strength to stand. He let Donnie in. They walked to the kitchen.
Donnie walked over and greeted his brother. He got an icy reception. It pained Jonah to watch.
“You said we had business to discuss,” Donnie said to his brother.
“Yeah,” Messer replied. “But you’ll be dealing with Jonah, here.”
“That’s fine.”
Messer looked Jonah in the eye and growled, “do it!”
Jonah brandished the gun from the back of his Dockers and pointed it at Donnie, whose eyes suddenly looked as if they would pop out of his head.
“What the f—”
“Pull the goddamn trigger, Jonah!”
Bang! Bang!
Donnie dropped to the floor. Messer was stunned. Jonah’s eyes filled with fear. Donnie peeked over his shoulder. Messer fell to his knees and grabbed his chest. Blood trickled between his fingers from the two holes beneath his heart. It stopped beating. He plunged face-first into the tile floor.
Donnie looked at Jonah. In Donnie’s eyes was the gratitude for his spared life. He watched the pool of blood expand around his brother’s body.
Jonah LaRoe studied the small handgun placed on the table before him. He refused to touch it. He stared at it, fear swelling within him.
“Jonah, take it,” Messer demanded. “Pick up the gun.”
“Derek, when you said you needed a f-favor,” Jonah stuttered, “I thought you meant a procedure or an operation.”
“Take the fucking gun Jonah!”
Jonah felt helpless. He was the first black Chief of Thoracic Surgery at Clark Hospital. For years, he rose through the ranks to become one of the premier surgeons in Atlanta. Now he felt helpless.
“I’ve spent my life saving people’s lives—”
“I won’t say it again!” Messer shouted. He waited and watched Jonah, who wouldn’t budge. Messer snatched the gun from the table and pressed it against Jonah’s forehead.
”Wait!”
“It’s you or him!”
“Okay… okay,” Jonah surrendered.
Jonah put his hand out and Messer placed it in his hand. Jonah stared at it again but couldn’t fathom pulling the trigger. He moved on from all of that. As a teenager growing up in Chicago, Jonah was sucked into the criminal life. But being a member of a gang gave him a sense of pride. A sense of belonging. A sense he no longer needed. He was a prominent member of the Atlanta medical community today. Who would he be tomorrow?
“Derek, he’s your brother.”
“Just do it, Jonah,” Messer said angrily. “You wanted in. We let you in. You took a break to make a career for yourself. That’s respectable. But you don’t get to just walk away from us. Donnie was my brother. But he turned against all of us.”
Messer left. Jonah dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed his eyes but he wasn’t dreaming. He wished it had been a nightmare.
The hours passed slowly. When it got late, Messer returned. He told Jonah that his brother would be along soon. And to prepare himself. Jonah felt sick to his stomach. He thought the feeling might kill him. That would be the easy way out.
There was a knock at the door. Jonah’s 43-year-old body felt like it was 97. He couldn’t make his legs stand up. Messer waited in the kitchen. Jonah didn’t want him to shout again so he summoned the strength to stand. He let Donnie in. They walked to the kitchen.
Donnie walked over and greeted his brother. He got an icy reception. It pained Jonah to watch.
“You said we had business to discuss,” Donnie said to his brother.
“Yeah,” Messer replied. “But you’ll be dealing with Jonah, here.”
“That’s fine.”
Messer looked Jonah in the eye and growled, “do it!”
Jonah brandished the gun from the back of his Dockers and pointed it at Donnie, whose eyes suddenly looked as if they would pop out of his head.
“What the f—”
“Pull the goddamn trigger, Jonah!”
Bang! Bang!
Donnie dropped to the floor. Messer was stunned. Jonah’s eyes filled with fear. Donnie peeked over his shoulder. Messer fell to his knees and grabbed his chest. Blood trickled between his fingers from the two holes beneath his heart. It stopped beating. He plunged face-first into the tile floor.
Donnie looked at Jonah. In Donnie’s eyes was the gratitude for his spared life. He watched the pool of blood expand around his brother’s body.
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