“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“I know.”
“He was destroying your car.”
“I know.”
“You had a right to be angry.”
“I was.”
“You still are.”
“Yes.”
“But if you touched him…”
She did not finish.
She did not need to.
The story could have become something else.
Rich Black homeowner attacks young white man.
Video shortened.
Context removed.
The son with bruises.
Me with muscles.
My car.
My house.
His mother saying she feared me.
Narratives arrive faster than facts.
“I know.”
My daughter was quiet.
Then:
“That sucks.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
She inhaled.
“Was it because you’re Black?”
I looked toward the investigator talking with the officer across the street.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You always say that.”
“Because facts matter.”
“Sometimes facts come with a pattern.”
She was becoming annoyingly good at arguing.
“True.”
“Then?”
“I know he used race when he was yelling.”
“What did he say?”
“I’m not repeating it.”
Her voice hardened.
“Dad.”
“No.”
“I heard it online.”
Of course she had.
I closed my eyes.
He had said:
“You people move in here, show off, cry discrimination…”
My daughter whispered:
“I hate them.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Be angry.”
“Fine.”
“Be disgusted.”
“Yes.”
“But don’t make hate your job.”
She laughed without humor.
“Why are you giving me life lessons while your Lamborghini has poultry glued to it?”
“Timing.”
She laughed properly then.
So did I.
It helped.
The repair specialist arrived twenty minutes later.
He walked around the car once.
Then again.
Then stared at me.
“You have enemies?”
“Apparently birds.”
He touched nothing at first.
Photographed every panel.
Measured.
Used a light.
Looked at how far the adhesive had begun to affect the clear coat.
Then said:
“This is going to be expensive.”
“How expensive?”
He named a number.
I stared.
“For glue?”
“For specialized paint.”
He pointed at the rear quarter.
“This isn’t a normal panel repair.”
“The finish needs blending.”
“The coating system matters.”
“Color matching on this paint is unforgiving.”
“If adhesive etched beneath the top layer, we may have to refinish more than what looks damaged.”
He kept going.