I was scrolling through my feed, today. It seems this is the day they found Masheeka and her daughters dead in their apartment. It was the summer of ’95 when the both of us worked together at HQ. I had become a Lead after working there for only two months. I had left Sears in ’95. I had just stood around peddling, siding, windows and cabinet refacing. This was not my real purpose; however, my real purpose was stopping the men and women who worked there from stealing out the store. There was a group of them that took things out of the store by the truck loads and sold them in flea markets, trade shows and events UpNorth. Back then there was no place for people in areas like Cass City and Bad Axe to shop. These days Walmart’s can be found in the deepest rural areas, but not back then. When I went to work at HQ, I saw the same cast of characters I had seen at Sears. HQ couldn’t take the abundance of stealing Sears could at that time. Sears would fold, but not as quickly as HQ did. I guess it’s old money that kept them afloat for such a long time, but they still went under, partially for the in-store theft, partially for not keeping up with the internet switch, the world was embracing. These men and women still exist, but their days are numbered.
Masheeka was a part of this crew. These people were mostly White people that used young Black people as expendables. These types were guilty of petty crimes. They gave away goods of lesser amounts at the cash register. I know the girls at HQ let large garbage cans full of merchandise go through the check-out lane, allowing sliding glass doors to go out one door and in another, to be returned and entire cabinet sets go through not being rung up. There was three of these young women in ’95, Stacey, Elmisha and Masheeka. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying they were wrong, they were just getting by. The gig was full proof, because the police were the biggest culprits in the scam. There were the Pontiac Police, Waterford Police, all the Bloomfield, West Bloomfield, Bloomfield Hills, Bloomfield Township. and of course, the Oakland County Sheriff’s Department. Troy had their own HQ and Sears. Troy is big in prostitution, all those office buildings they have. Women just sit at the bar and wait for men to get off work and have a drink. At that time, I didn’t know what else these young women were into, but they were all lovely enough to be into it all. When Stacey R. There were two Stacey’s. There was Stacey R., the Black one and Stacey B, the White one. The White one was going to Michigan State and is a nurse with two kids, now. Stacey R was fast and wasn’t doing much, I think she has a few kids and last I saw her, she was selling shoes she stole from Sears. It was her thing, shoes. She had worked at Shoe Carnival, before she worked at Sears. Elmisha is doing well, I think, she had a gig at the Post Office, along with her scheming at HQ. Masheeka, well, Masheeka is dead. Killed by her boyfriend who was let out of prison on “accident”.
When they first started talking about it on the news, I didn’t think anything about it. Now this same group of thieves have sent me to prison for something I didn’t do, declared me insane and follow me wherever I go. Masheeka never had a chance. She knew something and had more than likely threatened the wrong person. The person they showed on the television that fateful day, was no other than Paul “Pancho” McDougal. He was sitting in a courtroom in 50th District Court, relaxing. He had sat back, stretched his arms on the bench, crossed his legs at the ankles and let out a satisfying sigh from his lips. I thought, “Not that mother*cker”. He had beat the “dog doo” out my best friend and sent her packing back to Detroit. He was also the cop that years later would follow behind the Facebook killer, while she chased two frightened young women down the street, and never blew a horn, flashed a light or sound a siren. Where one young woman was killed, one young woman was maimed, and one young woman is doing 25 years for Second-Degree Murder. A racist Oakland County said she deserved for being so reckless to kill a young White woman, who was so bold to come where she was obviously in danger. It seems that the police allow shady-defective police to get a pass, but who is going to protect us? Nobody heard Masheeka’s cries. Nobody stopped me from going to prison or jail, Patricia lives with her scars and The Abernathy girl blood cries out from Woodward Street. One man, one name, “Pancho”. What a shame! He is still working as a deputy. He’s been working for over 25 years. People like him must work beyond retirement. He’s been promoted and demoted, but I bet he has plenty of bills. He owes a lot of people, not to mention his drug habit. Due to all his countless habits, he owns a lot of people who make the mistake of indulging in superfluity of naughtiness with this man. A strategy he picked up a long the way. Can you imagine how many favors he had to call in to get her boyfriend out “on accident”?
I’ve been in prison now, and I know you’re never let out on an accident! You’re doing your time and that’s it! Your ARUS, the parole board, everyone knows your date. All the men on the yard, your bunky, everybody! If you have two dates, you go to your ARUS, and they will let you know your real date. You might not know that you’re going on a writ, a court date, but you always know if you’re going home! “Pancho” has a devious mind. When he saw the love letters I had written to my so-called victim, he saw his chance to totally discredit my existence. No one would ever believe me when I told the truth about my friend. I wonder what Masheeka knew. I wonder what she saw. She’s his type, and I wonder if they were involved in some way. I just remember her coming to HQ on her day-off with her then boyfriend, Rahim. They were in his raggedy, Grand Prix or Cutlass. She had one of those babies that were killed in her lap, putting her pacifier in her mouth to calm her down. I can also remember that she wouldn’t play the “Key flick” game with Stacey and Elmisha. She could care less who was Lead and who wasn’t. It wasn’t part of her agenda. Mad that she had left money unattended in the cash room, Stacey and Elmisha started a “key flick” game. As Lead, if they had made a mistake or needed to void out something, I had to give what we called a “key flick”. Stacey and Elmisha called “key flick” all day. They made mistakes on purpose. Not Masheeka, and now she needed a “key flick”, she turned, looked at me, smiled, and in an almost whisper said, “key flick”. That made my day. I’ll never forget it. With all the stress and frustration, I was going through, she wasn’t there for none of it. I hope God is taking care of her and her daughters, I hope her little one has found her way. I hope that all the people who know what happened to her have sleepless nights and restless dreams, I hope that the man who did it to her finds God while he rots forever. I hope… For the people who know why it happened, nobody faults you for keeping your silence, people can be cruel, and peace is the journey you are looking for. Women always have someone they tell their secrets to…
“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.” – Psalms 127:3
