Doug came back to talk to him and he finally heard more about Keisha’s charges. She said she was drunk and resisted his advances; that he didn’t listen when she said no. That he tore her underwear and forced himself into her, forced her to perform oral sex, and then kicked her out of his hotel room in the early hours of the morning. She said she didn’t tell anyone because she was ashamed. She was reporting it now because he’d threatened to assault her when she saw him in California and she was afraid for her life.
Shawn listened to whole recitation with no reaction. It was hard to believe all of these so-called ‘facts’ were supposed to be about him.
“I can tell you right now,” Doug said, a hand on his shoulder. “I’m very encouraged. There’s lots of holes here. Lots of holes.”
Shawn nodded, uninterested. “Could you call my wife when you leave? Let her know what’s going on?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
He leaned back and yawned. The bench he was sitting on was dirty, the floor was sticky and he was tired. But he was also strangely calm. It was as though all of this, all this drama, had absolutely nothing to do with him. He was merely a spectator. Doug and the cops and everyone else around; they were the players and he was just a part of the audience.
“So I’ll see you in court tomorrow,” Doug stood and gave him a brief smile. “We’ll have you out of here by noon.”
Associated Press
Dateline: New York, NY
Rapper K Smooth Faces Rape Charge
A warrant was issued yesterday for the arrest of chart-topping rapper K Smooth on charges of rape and sodomy. K Smooth, whose real name is Kendall Gardner was expected to surrender to authorities and spend the night in jail as of Wednesday evening. After learning that the charges were pending, K Smooth returned to New York from Los Angeles where he was promoting his new record label, So Def Records. No details are available yet about the alleged incident or the status of K-Smooth’s engagements across the country.
K Smooth debuted near the top of the “Billboard” album chart more than eight years ago but has recently seen unprecedented critical and commercial success with his ‘Fire Next Time’ CD. He was once described by Newsweek as the “voice of social consciousness” in what some say is an otherwise hedonistic hip-hop culture. K Smooth is married to Riley Gardner, a writer at Power to the People, a progressive African-American political magazine. His mother-in-law is renowned radical feminist Lorna Terry who has described rape as being “the male species’ most potent weapon in the ongoing gender-based warfare” being waged against women around the world.
He wasn’t out by noon. After a night spent sleeping exactly where he’d been put after booking, sometime the next morning he was transported to court in the back of a van with a bunch of other guys, each of them chained together and to the bench they were made to sit on. Most were brothers who looked bored with the whole scene, like they’d been through it a million times before. They all looked at him with recognition in their eyes, but no one acknowledged that they knew who he was.
From the van they were put in a long narrow hallway with doors on both ends, waiting to be taken into the courtroom. By then, Shawn had lost all sense of time. When the guards were fitting his leg-irons, some of the brothers’ eyes fell to his boots. He’d bought them in L.A. no more than two weeks ago, and they still looked brand spanking new. They’d cost him over seven hundred dollars. For a lack of that amount of money, more than half of the men in there with him wouldn’t make bail today. And he would walk out of there, their freedom on his feet.
When he was up, Doug made a two-minute speech about his not being a flight risk and his willingness to surrender his passport and the prosecutor made a brief and half-hearted counter-argument. Shawn guessed that Rikers’ Island was not particularly excited about making accommodations for a high-profile inmate who would likely need to be in extra-special protective custody. The judge set his bail at two hundred and fifty thousand, and he was done.
Suddenly, he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Doug went with him to claim his jewelry and then he was stepping out into the real world again. There were more reporters this time and a few television crews, including MTV, VH1 and BET. Doug put a hand on his back and guided him through the crowd. Shawn tuned everything out the way he sometimes did when he was onstage or at a photo-op. Then there was a Lincoln Town Car in his path with an open door and the next thing he knew Brendan had pulled him into the backseat.
“You a’ight, man?”
He nodded. “What time is it?” he asked. He’d forgotten that he had his own watch back now.
Brendan patted him on the back and checked. “Four thirty-seven.”
The whole day had passed and he almost hadn’t noticed. If anyone had asked him to guess, he would have said it was about twelve-thirty at the latest. Doug got in the front seat and they pulled off into traffic heading for Manhattan. When they got to Doug’s office, Shawn realized something. He smelled like jail.
“You don’t have to come up,” Doug said, before getting out himself. “Just call me later when you’ve gotten some rest and we’ll talk.”
Shawn nodded.
“C’mon, man. Let’s go.” Brendan was pushing him toward the door. They were getting out too. “Riley’s waiting for you.”
Shawn got out of the car obediently, and that was when he saw their car parked at the curb along with Brendan’s SUV. There were two heads in the Bentley. Riley got out and hugged him. His arms felt so heavy, he could barely hug her back. She looked into his eyes like she was searching for whatever afflicted him.
“Is he okay?” she asked Brendan.
“He’ll be a’ight. Probably just tired,” Brendan said. “Call me when you get up there.”
Up where? Shawn wondered.
“Sure. Thanks Brendan.”
When Riley led him to the car, he saw who the second head was. It was Lorna. She gave him a wan smile.
“Hey,” she said. “How you doin’?”
Shawn tried to respond, but his eyelids were heavy. All he could do was blink and each time, it became more difficult to open his eyes again. Riley herded him into the back and she got back up front behind the steering wheel, pulling away from the curb. The urge he had to sleep was even more powerful now. Irresistible, in fact. He lay across the seat and closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the worried exchange between Riley and Lorna.
Mom, what’s the matter with him?
Shush, he’ll be fine.
g
Riley sat and watched Shawn sleep. He’d been out for more than eighteen hours now. Hadn’t even woken up to go to the bathroom. After the drive upstate, she and Lorna had to practically drag him into the house and lay him across the bed. And there he’d stayed. The night in jail seemed to have shaken him up a little. Probably not the conditions of the jail itself but more likely the reality of being charged with a crime he didn’t commit had finally hit home.
She’d been worried enough to make Lorna call Dr. Spacey who assured her that it was likely just a combination of stress and common old exhaustion. People were known to sleep for entire days when they were under inordinate amounts of stress, Lorna had reported cheerfully. But still Riley sat and watched. She’d left him only when she had to sleep herself—on the daybed by the window—or to shower and get something to eat.
Lorna was at the college, weathering the storm, ignoring the calls that came to her office from the press. Everyone was curious about her reaction to the scrape her son-in-law had gotten into. No one from the administration at the school had mentioned it yet, however. That was sure to change if the publicity got out of hand, but like she said last night, it’ll die down. Rappers are always getting arrested for something or other. Riley tried not to show it, but those words had stung. Lorna didn’t understand yet, that Shawn was different.
Riley had gotten up this morning and made breakfast in case Shawn woke up hungry, but he didn’t wake up at all. An
d now it was just after two in the afternoon and he still showed no sign of coming out of it. His eyelashes cast feathery shadows on his cheeks, and his mouth was slightly open. He looked like he could sleep forever.
“Shawn.” Riley touched his face.
He didn’t react, so she went downstairs to see about lunch. There wasn’t too much in the fridge, just a bunch of leftovers in Tupperware and breakfast food. Lorna lived on a variety of egg dishes and pastrami sandwiches. Occasionally she made pasta or ordered food, but hers was generally not a busy kitchen. Riley sighed and grabbed the car keys off the counter. She would just run out to the store and pick up a few things.
She got a few steaks and romaine lettuce, salad dressing, juice, microwavable fajitas and salsa, and on the way home, just in case, she picked up some fast food burgers and fries. Pulling into the driveway, she glanced up at her bedroom window, as though she would see anything there that might give her a clue about how Shawn was doing. She went straight to the kitchen and dropped off the groceries, sitting at the counter to pick at her food. If she followed her honest urge right now she would be calling Tracy, but they were in a tense patch at the moment.
Ever since she’d told Tracy about what was going on and her response had been, God Riley, just how far down are you going to let this man drag you? She knew the question was asked out of love and concern, but she didn’t have the time or emotional currency to address it right now. She had to focus solely on what was happening with Shawn. Everything else, everyone else’s judgments and hang-ups would have to wait.
“You get one of those for me?”
Riley jumped. He was standing at the door, wearing only his jeans and a three o’clock shadow.
“Of course,” she smiled.
He sat across the counter from her his eyes bloodshot, and reached for the paper sack with the fast food.
“Thanks.” He dug into the bag and pulled out the burger, biting into it like he was starving, which of course he probably was.
“So,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re supposed to be all hard-core; what’s a brother do the day after he gets out of jail?”
“Gets some cheap wine, finds a cheap woman and has some cheap sex.”
“The cheap wine I can help you with, but as far as the cheap sex, that’s how you got into this mess in the first place.”
“I still can’t believe she did it.” He shook his head.
“It’ll get taken care of. People out there know the truth. They’ll come forward and . . .”
“Or maybe they won’t. Y’know something Doug said to me had me thinking yesterday. He said innocence is no guarantee that I’ll get off. And even though I knew that, to hear somebody say it . . .”
“He has to prepare you for the worst case scenario,” Riley said. “It’s his job.” But her heart clenched like a fist.
“I know.”
“We’ll be alright Shawn. No matter what happens.”
“Married to somebody in prison?” he said. “It wouldn’t be alright, Riley. Trust me.”
“Why are we talking about prison? It’s not going to happen,” she said impatiently. She got up and went to the refrigerator, even though she didn’t need anything inside. She leaned against it, pressing her forehead to the cool exterior.
“I’m just saying, if things start to look bad, there’s some things we’ll need to talk about.”
“Like what?”
“Like what would happen to me and you.”
“It hasn’t come to that. I’m not going to talk about that.”
Shawn sighed. “Okay. But later on, if it does . . .”
“We’ll deal with later on, later on. Let’s deal with right now. We should call Doug, see what’s going on. And Brendan’s been calling a lot too.”
She turned to look at him again. He had shoved aside his food and stared unseeingly at the kitchen counter.
“Lemme go take a shower first,” he said.
He pushed back from the counter and headed upstairs. Riley wanted to follow him, but sensed that he needed to be alone. She could show as much support as was humanly possible, but at the end of the day, only one of them was facing the prospect of being sent to prison.
By the time Lorna got home later that afternoon, Shawn had spoken to Doug and Brendan and retreated to the bedroom by himself. Riley went in to check on him and he was just sitting on the window seat, staring out into the backyard. He barely registered an awareness of her presence when she entered the room, and didn’t try to stop her from leaving.
“I only got twelve calls from the press today,” Lorna announced cheerfully as she entered the house and tossed her bags onto the sofa. “That’s an improvement since yesterday.” Then she noticed Riley’s face and took her coat off. “Didn’t he wake up yet?”
“Yeah, he’s up. If you want to call it that.”
“What’s the matter?”
Riley shrugged and followed her mother to the kitchen. “He isn’t talking that much.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“No. I guess it shouldn’t.”
“Okay then.” Lorna opened the cupboards and started making coffee.
Riley watched her mother’s back as she measured coffee grounds into the basket, filled the carafe with water, and poured it into the coffeemaker.
“You’re making me nervous, Riley,” Lorna said without turning around. “What’s really the matter?”
“I was just thinking.”
“Thinking what?” Lorna took two mugs from the cupboard, and a pint of flavored creamer from the fridge.
“About why you haven’t asked me if Shawn did what they say he did.”
At this Lorna turned and looked her in the eye.
“I may not know Shawn very well, Riley but I like to think I know a little something about my own child. If you had even the slightest doubt that he hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t be with him. And that’s good enough for me.”
“Is it?”
Lorna nodded. “It is.”
“So this isn’t like a huge embarrassment for you? Having us here when all your professional life you’ve made these statements about rape and . . .”
“You’re my daughter, Shawn’s my son-in-law. That’s all there is to it. Professional embarrassment . . .” Lorna shrugged. “I’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out before I start feeling embarrassed.”
“I guess.”
“Riley. Don’t worry about me. I’ve fought battles far more bloody than this. But for you, it may be the fight of your life. You don’t have time to think about my embarrassment.”
Riley smiled at her mother. “Have I ever told you how fabulous you are?”
“Not today,” Lorna said without missing a beat.
“Well you are.”
Lorna turned again to face the task of making coffee. “Why don’t you go get Shawn and send him down here? I want to talk to him for a minute.”
Riley hesitated. “What’re you going to say?”
“That’ll be between me and Shawn. He’ll tell you if he wants to.”
“You’re not going to . . .”
“Whatever happened to me being fabulous? Just send him down, Riley. And give us a little time to talk.”
Riley stood reluctantly and headed up to get Shawn. He was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when she walked in. This time he turned as she entered.
“I heard your Mom come in.”
“Yeah. She’s downstairs. She wants to talk to you.”
Shawn sighed. “I knew this was coming. I bet she has a lot on her chest she wants to get off.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of talk.”
He sat up and exhaled, running a hand over his head. “Where’s she at?”
“In the kitchen.”
When he was gone, Riley sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. She didn’t know what Lorna was going to say, but if past experience was any guide, it would probably be something along the lin
es of ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight back’. Lorna considered passivity to be the deadliest of all sins. Riley remembered distinctly being eleven years old and coming home from school with a bloody lip and skinned knees because Linda Chalmers had decided she was stuck up and needed to be taught a lesson.
At the sight of Lorna standing in the doorway, she’d fallen apart in tears, fully expecting to be held and comforted. And she was. But only for a little while.
That’s enough of that, Lorna told her after a few minutes of weeping. Now what’re you going to do about it?
Whining and acting like a victim was definitely not allowed. She’d never succeeded in beating up Linda Chalmers, but she fought her about once a week for the next month, never backing down. Linda finally grew tired of facing a hysterical opponent with flailing arms, and left her alone.
Shawn’s situation was of course far graver than a schoolyard bully, but Lorna was bound to see his retreat into silence and solitude as self-pity. And she would have none of that.
MTV was reporting that Shawn was “in seclusion.” The words held a subtle note of accusation—like he was hiding from what he’d done but fortunately, their report was balanced by a clip of one of the dancers from the tour saying that her understanding of what had happened between Shawn and Keisha (whose name MTV declined to broadcast, referring to her only as his ‘accuser’) was that it was completely consensual, spanning a period of weeks and ending in Chicago when all the dancers were terminated. The dancer looked in the camera and shook her head in disbelief, I don’t know why she’s saying this, she reflected. I mean, if anything, she was the one chasing after him.
Not that that offered Riley any sense of consolation. Chris was doing what he’d said he would—exposing the fact that Shawn hadn’t forced himself on someone who was unwilling, by arranging for people who witnessed some of his interactions with Keisha to come forward. But now a whole new picture of what went on when Shawn was on the road was emerging. Flirtation and sexual banter; the kinds of games he would absolutely lose his mind about if he even suspected she were playing them with guys she knew.
Commitment Page 44