It was a slow night. Well, as slow as a night could possibly be working an emergency switchboard in New York City----on a Saturday night.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Jill scrolled down her computer screen looking for the number where the call was originating. It came up as untraceable. After waiting several seconds for an answer, she prompted. "Hello?"
"I---I killed someone." The voice was soft. Barely hearable. "And now, I think I want to kill myself. Have you ever questioned your entire existence? Everything you've ever known since you were a child?"
Jill leaned forward in her chair."Can you give me your location, Sir?"
The voice on the other end gave a short laugh. "No."
Great, Jill thought. Anything to make my day easier. Out loud she said. "Sir, can you give me the location of the person you believed you killed?"
"The cops were already there. Trust me, he's dead. But if you really need to know, it was in Central Park."
Jill checked through the police logs and found that there had been a body found in Central Park that night. She fought a sigh. "Alright, Sir. Could you tell me your name?"
There was a momentary pause. "You can call me Musuko"
She typed in the name. "Is that your first name or last name?"
"I didn't say it was either. I just said you could call me that."
Jill could almost hear the sarcastic smile. "Musuko isn't your name?"
"No."
She tapped her finger on the desk. "Is it Chinese?"
The voice laughed again. That same short chuckle. "No, it's Japanese. It means son. I am my father's son."
"Musuko," Jill began hesitantly. "Could you give me your age?"
There was another short pause. "Fifteen. Almost."
"Fourteen," Jill repeated closing her eyes. Fourteen. What has this city come to? And why doesn't that even surprise me anymore? "Musuko, are you alone right now?"
"No, my—father is sleeping. So is everyone else."
I am my father's son The words echoed in Jill's mind and she knew the man sleeping nearby would not be of much help to the boy right now. She began slowly trying to keep him talking as she tried to trace the call. "I want to try to help you Musuko. Can you tell me what happened tonight? Did you know the man you killed?"
"I didn't know him." There was a small sigh. "I didn't want to kill him."
Jill nodded. The boy felt remorse. There may be hope for him. If only she could get him to turn himself in. "You can still make this right. You're young. The police…"
"The police?" Musuko interrupted. "Lady, I can't call the police."
"You're a minor. If you turn yourself in--"Jill tried to reassure him but he was having none of it.
"I can't turn myself in. It doesn't matter if I was only five years old. Trust me on this one."
Jill sighed quietly. "Alright. Maybe, you could tell me what happened. If this was an accident--"
"It was. Sort of. I---found him--and---" He stopped talking, and seemed to choke on his own words. "God, I've never killed anyone before. Why did I have to be the first?"
"The first?" Jill echoed.
"Of my brothers," he muttered. "The first to kill. I mean, that's the way it was supposed to be I guess. I'm suppose to lead them. Be the example. That's what I always hear. But I didn't want to kill him. I didn't! Even if he did deserve it"
Jill winced, both from the last sentence and the first. "You have brothers?"
"They might even be proud." He seemed to be talking more to himself than her now. "When we train--it's like--it's real. But it can't prepare you for the actual reality. The actual moment. All my training couldn't prepare me."
Jill's eyes widened. This boy must be some part of a gang. Trained from the moment he could pick up a gun. Trained to kill. "Musuko---if someone is telling you to do these things. The police will take that into consideration."
"I told you, I can't call the police. I just want---I don't know what I want. I do know you can't give it to me. I should talk to my mas…father, but he didn't even know I was gone. No one knew. I don't normally sneak away, but I needed some air and some time to myself." He sighed. "There's so much pressure sometimes. To be…my father's son. I can't always take it."
"Musuko," Jill began desperately. She was failing and she knew it.
"You don't understand. You couldn't. I KILLED someone. His blood is all over me. I…" There was a gagging sound and then coughing.
The computer screen blinked. Untraceable. She wouldn't be able to find him. "Musuko. I know I can't understand what you're going through, but killing yourself won't bring this guy back. It won't help. It…"
"He was RAPING her dammit! What was I supposed to do? Look the other way!"
Jill's froze. "Rape--raping who?"
Musuko started to sound desperate himself. "Some woman! I don't know who she was. He knocked her out. He was going to rape her! And I couldn't let it go! I couldn't walk away! What kind of honor would that leave me with if I walked away?"
In all her years working the switchboards, Jill had never felt more confused. She had never been struck speechless. This was a fourteen year old boy. One she thought was a gang member. And he was telling her he killed a man to stop him from rape. For honor. She wondered when fourteen year olds started knowing enough to recognize rape---and to recognize honor.
"I keep telling myself I had to do it. That it was a just kill." He was crying. She could tell. But he was trying to hold it back. "But I didn't want to kill him. Just stop him. He kept coming at me. And he saw me. He SAW me! What else could I do?"
His words choked off again and there was a few moments of silence while Jill tried to gather her thoughts. She honestly didn't know what to say. Wasn't sure how to help him. Wasn't sure if she even believed him.
"Musuko---"She began again.
Before Jill could say anything she heard a voice in the background ask. "Who are you talking to?"
Musuko gasped audibly and whispered feverishly. "I have to go."
Jill blinked. "No wait." A click. "Musuko!" A dial tone. "Dammit!" She threw her headset against the computer screen. She shook her head angrilyand leanedback against the chair. After a few minutes she brought the police logs back up again.
She read through the report of the dead man found in the park. The call to the police was made by a hysterical young woman. She claimed the dead man had attacked her. When she woke up, she was partially dressed; her clothing had been ripped away. The man was lying a few feet from her and it looked like he had been stabbed. The only clue left behind was the trench coat that had been put over her while she was lying unconscious.