Page 131 of The Sun and Her Star

The camera moves so it’s facing the dark hardwood floor. “That was like a fucking movie. I’m putting this shit on Facebook.” The camera’s view changes and I catch a glimpse of his pale, stubbled double chin before the recording ends.

I watch it one more time before we get to the precinct. The second time, it’s even more surreal to see Apollo running around barefoot in a restaurant waving her bat like she’s the reincarnation of Atilla the Hun.

The outside of the precinct looks fairly calm, and no one gives me a sideways glance as I walk in. I wait for the desk officer to finish his call and look around wide-eyed. It’s like a hive of misery. People yell at each other over the tops of cubicles. The seating area is full of haggard, tired men and women. By the time he hangs up, I’m imagining the worst.

“Can I help you?” I turn to face the man the brusque voice belongs to. His badge identifies him as F. Campbell.

“Hi, I’m trying to find someone. She was brought here after her arrest.”

“Name?”

“Apollo.”

He looks up at me over the rim of his reading glasses. “Fullname?”

“Apollo Havaa Locklear.”

“Do you have her arrest number?”

“No, but I think her lawyer might already be here.”

“Hold on.” He types something and then spins the scrolling wheel on his mouse while he peers at his screen.

“Ah. Yeah, here. I found her. She’s still here,” he harrumphs and shakes his head and pulls his glasses off and grins up at me.

“You the boyfriend?” he asks.

“Whose boyfriend?” I ask, confused by his sudden amusement.

“Apollo Locklear?” He looks at me like he thinks I’m a dumbass.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. I am.”

I hope.

“Why?”

“Because her lawyer got her a Desk Appearance Ticket about thirty minutes ago. And then she told the desk sergeant that if she got out of here, she’d just be back again because she was going to go back and finish trying to kill that woman and … how did she say it?” He snaps his fingers and stares at the ceiling for a second. Then he looks over his shoulder and calls, “Hey Ochao, what did the girl we brought in call her boyfriend?”

A man with a bald head and thin mustache stands up from behind a cubicle and said, “She called him a lying, shit for brains motherfucker of a boyfriend.”

And they both burst out laughing. I stand there, feeling the blood drain from my face, and wondering how these men could find anything to laugh about.

“Sorry to interrupt your fun, but could you actually help me here?” I ask when they both continue laughing.

“Oh, sorry. Man, it was funny as hell because she’s little and cute, but they said she’d chased someone down in a restaurant with a baseball bat. Took two of us to get her in cuffs.” He wipes his eyes.

“They put her in a cell?” I ask in horror. “With other prisoners?” I imagine Apollo in a cell with a bunch of violent offenders.

“Nah, she’s down by herself. Her lawyer asked us to let her cool down. She’s got a couple of hours before we take everyone who’s being held to central booking.”

The officer named Ochao stands up and says, “Yeah, so you’ve still got time to get out of the city before she’s free.”

Campbell burst out laughing so hard that he has to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

“Okay,” I say, ignoring his laughter. “Can I see her?”

“Youwannadie?” He chuckles, and it’s the end of my patience. I put both hands on his desk and lean forward.

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