He told the officer he never saw him coming. Said he darted out in front of his car before he slammed on the brakes.

He was chasin’ some ball I guess. Just ran out there in the middle of the street. Never saw him, his hands shook as he tried to light his cigarette.

Do you live over here sir?, the policeman asked. Sir, do you live over here in this neighborhood?, he shook his head no.

Where do you live?

1407 Pinedale Drive.

Where’s that?

Out South.

As the ambulance came, and the small child lay in the street motionless, a crowd began to form. A large group of men and women circled the dead body. A woman cried out, He done killed him. He done killed him, she wept loudly.

Sir we’re going to have to take you in for questioning. Have you been drinking tonight?, the cop smelled alcohol on his breath. You mind taking a sobriety test?, he nodded yes. Yes he had been drinking. Drinking for the better part of the day. Drinking ever since his woman left him the night before. Yes, I’ve been drinking officer.

The policeman got the breathalyzer out of his car. Asked him to blow into the device. More and more people gathered, street lights came on, shoes on wires disappeared in the dark.

On the way to the police station the man in the back seat couldn’t comprehend what was going on. The cops were quiet on the ride; lights on, speeding through neighborhoods and onto main streets; porchlights glowed and uncut grass waved in the wind.

The handcuffed man looked out the window at the other cars they were passing. He was looking for a silver SUV. Looking for a blonde inside of it. Wanting, one last time to see her.

He began mumbling about Macbeth. About dreams. “To know my deed, t’were best not know myself.”

His ex watched the news that night at the bar. She saw his mug shot up on the screen. She switched to coffee.