Monkey Wrench by Terri Thayer

bench he was standing on. He jumped up onto the pallets and reached down for Vangie.
    Vangie’s eyes narrowed and I knew I had gone too far. Her family was sacred.
    “I will never disappoint my family,” she said. “My college education will mean nothing if we don’t have basic freedoms.”
    Vangie raised a fist. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of something behind me. She climbed up on the pallets and tugged on Wyatt’s sleeve and pointed. I looked over my shoulder.
    A police car made its way slowly, poking its nose into the crowd that moved apart only long enough to surround the car from the back. The car was equipped with a loudspeaker.
    “Please leave this area. This is an unauthorized gathering. As such, your presence here is illegal. You have five minutes to clear the square. Move slowly in an orderly fashion.”
    Wyatt yelled, “Everyone stand their ground!”
    I grabbed Vangie’s hand, forcing her to lean down and listen to me. Wyatt glanced over but returned to his crowd when someone called his name. He was a rock star.
    I hissed, “You can’t go to jail, Vangie. Your future …”
    I was bumped from behind by a surge in the crowd. People were moving forward, trying to get closer to Wyatt.
    Vangie wrested her hand from me and linked arms with Wyatt. He jumped down, helping Vangie down. They linked arms with the kids in front of them.
    He began singing, leading the crowd in “We Shall Overcome.” Vangie sang with conviction, swaying, squashed between Wyatt and a tall black kid in a kente hat. The police car stayed on the edge, ignored by everyone.
    An arm landed in the middle of my back and I stumbled, losing my breath and my footing. Someone put a hand out to steady me. I took it gratefully. I tried to thank my rescuer but I was pushed forward, on my feet but caught up in the tide of protesters.
    A second police car poked through the periphery, going south this time. His loudspeaker blared its pre-recorded imprecations. “Please disburse. Clear the area.”
    A ripple went through the crowd. I wanted out. There was no place to go. I was in gridlock with a thousand protesters. Instead of disbursing, the edges of the crowd were moving forward, as if drawn to Wyatt’s flame. In the middle, where I was, we were being squeezed from both sides.
    My stomach ached. This was bad. If the true believers kept trying to get to Wyatt, it wouldn’t take much for things to get out of hand.
    I stepped on something.
    “Ow!” Someone yelped.
    I didn’t look to see whom I’d wounded. My chest constricted as the feeling of being overwhelmed grew.
    The mounted policeman picked his way past me, slowly moving east. People stepped aside to let him pass. I saw a way out. I scooted close to the horse. One giant hoof came close to landing on my foot. With a small cry, I hopped away.
    The horse was conditioned to be immune to human behavior and ignored me. The cop was too busy scanning the crowd to notice one scared woman dogging his footsteps.
    I tucked in against the flank. The horse’s earthy smell filled my nostrils and I choked. I clamped a hand over my nose and stayed close.
    He got me near enough to the edge of the crowd that I could break free on San Fernando Street. I stood outside Original Joe’s and panted, my heart pounding at the thought of what could have happened.
    From here, I couldn’t see Wyatt or Vangie, but the singing had stopped and the crowd was chanting “Freedom Now.”
    I wanted to see what the police had done. I started toward the college.
    I was the only one heading in the direction of the campus. Kids were still making their way to the demonstration, many looking at their phones as they walked.
    My phone chirped with messages. The first was from Freddy. “Will you pick me up some maps when you get yours? I’ll take a hundred.” He sounded so normal.
    The second was from Sonya. “My class has been canceled. I’m in my office if you want to come now.” She gave me directions to her