In the living room, Max Headroom flickers soundlessly on MTV. Mario and his brother grin from a package on the floor. Junior reaches, turns the set off. Replaces the light from the television with a dim lamp. Walks to the window that fronts the street and looks out into the Knoxville night.
Lawd, lawd, they cut George Jackson down. John Brown lies a moldering in his grave. And the Crown Victoria that tailed him all over town yesterday is parked across the street.
Junior returns to the bedside and dresses, careful not to wake Marie. He watches her sleep a moment, then leaves the room.
He passes the apartment's tiny living room and enters the bathroom. The window hugs the frame, resists, then opens with a start, the noise startling in the predawn quiet. He pauses, listening to Marie’s movements. Covers rustle, bedsprings creak. When silence returns, he raises the window further and climbs onto the fire escape.