“Will you?”
Calvin, serving now as first chair in Malik’s defense, stood and buttoned his dark-olive suit. “I will,” he said, then unbuttoned his jacket and sat down.
“Anything else, counsel? Do you have any evidence that proves my reluctance in the past to convict defendants or sentence them to prison? Are you arguing that I have some personal interest in the outcome of this case?”
“No, Your Honor. However, our argument is limited to the unique nature of this case. It is our position that opposing counsel is essentially espousing views that you, in the past, have publicly supported. He is calling for a restructuring of sorts of how the legal system does business, and you have made it clear on numerous occasions that you hold the very same view.”
Judge McCormick shifted his body in Calvin and Roger’s direction, then turned his head back to the prosecutor. “Thin. Paper thin.”
ADA Dembe collected her notes, stood them tall on the table in front of her, and pounded them up and down. There was a slight film of sweat on her brow. She tossed her notes into a folder, but some of them spilled out onto the floor. In a sharp, jerky move, which left nothing to the imagination as to her feelings, she leaned over and snatched the papers up from the floor. Finally, she plopped herself in her seat like a child on the verge of a tantrum.
The judge turned back to Calvin and Roger. “So, what do you have to say about this request?”
Roger leaned into Calvin, draping an arm around his cocounsel’s broad shoulders. He whispered in his ear, “Swat this bug so we can get down to real business.”
Calvin smirked. A rush of energy coursed through him like it never had in all the cases he worked on at Fox, Biddle & Rothschild. He glimpsed over his shoulder at Janae. She fidgeted with a ring that had been on her right hand but now lay in her lap.
“Your Honor, it is the defense’s position that you not only can be impartial in this case but that your tenure on the bench during the past two decades has shown a judgeship that has been marked with decisions that are fair and just under the current law. Moreover, there is nothing that distinguishes your decisions from your peers. Your conviction and delinquent adjudication rates are on par with your peers. Your sentences are essentially indistinguishable. The prosecution cannot point to any discrepancies that hint at any inability on your part to be impartial in judging this case. Instead they argue in generalities and speculation. And even in their broad strokes they fail to show the appearance of impropriety with regard to this specific case. The prosecution has failed to show that you have any personal interest in the outcome of the case or that you or anyone close to you will benefit in any way from the outcome of this matter. That’s the standard for recusal, and they have failed to meet it.
“Essentially their argument can be summed up as any judge with an expressed opinion,” Calvin abruptly shifted his body in the direction of ADA Dembe as he revealed the real problem her office has with the judge, “about an ill that plagues our society, whether it’s the disproportionate number of blacks that are imprisoned, abortion rights or any number of issues should be disqualified to hear cases in the same vein. The problem with their reasoning is that every judge has a personal opinion particularly if they are well informed about the world we live in. Judges are not required to suspend thought or their rights as a citizen in order to preside over cases. The only requirement is impartiality. Can a judge be impartial in deciding a matter? I submit that in light of your actual record in deciding criminal matters you can be impartial in this matter. Your Honor, the prosecution’s burden on the Motion for Recusal has not been met. We ask that the motion be denied. Moreover, we bring to Your Honor’s attention that a waiver hearing is scheduled on this case and that there be no delay on that matter.”
Judge McCormick sat up straight. His eyes shifted from Calvin to ADA Dembe to the clock that was to the right of his bench. They were twenty-five minutes into the hearing.
In a dry, restrained voice he said, “Ms. Dembe, I’ve heard your motion. It is denied. Waiver hearing will be heard as scheduled.” In one swift continuous movement, he pushed his chair away from the bench, banged his gavel, and exited the courtroom.
Roger patted Calvin on the back. “You were built for this.”
Calvin was beaming.
“I bet you never felt like this from writing a ‘killer brief’ over at that corporate firm of yours,” Roger teased.
Calvin’s head jerked. “You’re right! Working this case, helping Janae and her son—yeah, this is in a league of its own.”
He turned to Janae, still smiling. She returned it glowing and nearly hyperventilating from excitement. One step closer to Malik coming home!
“Thank you so much. Thank you so much.” Her eyes welled up with tears.
Calvin chuckled, as she bounced up and down. “You’re welcome, Janae. But we still have the waiver and trial.”
She moved her right hand swiftly back and forth, as if patting the air with it. “I know, I know. But you said this judge was a good one to have, and now we got him, and you’re good, and Roger’s good, and I know Malik is coming home and, and”—she squeezed her eyes and fists tightly and said in disbelief—“I’m happy.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“DO YOU DO THIS FOR ALL YOUR CLIENTS?” JANAE ASKED, ALREADY SURE that the answer was no. She was standing in a three-way mirror in a high-end department store, staring at herself in a tailored black suit. She twirled around. It fit perfectly. It was petite and wouldn’t need to be hemmed. Even the cobalt-blue shirt under the blazer was just right. She stopped fidgeting and took a really good look at herself. She looked like a businesswoman, a lawyer, someone important.
She smiled. “This is nice.”
“You’re not my client, Janae,” Calvin corrected her.
She turned to him with a puzzled look.
“You’re not my client, Malik is.”
She waved her hand as she turned back to the mirror. “Oh, that’s the same thing.” She looked at him again, this time in the mirror. Their eyes locked. “Do you like it?”
With his cheeks a bit flushed, he felt like he had been caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. She wasn’t his client, but the fact that she was his client’s mother blurred the line of appropriateness. “Yes, I like it a lot. You look beautiful.”
His comment flattered, but she did not show it. A man like him, he could never see a woman like me as anything other than a drain on the system. “Why are you doing this?”
Calvin cleared his throat. “Doing what, exactly?”
“You know, buying me this ridiculously expensive suit, that’s what.”
“Well, in a court case, everything matters, including appearances. I want us to have every advantage we can going into the courtroom next week.”
She turned swiftly back to him with a wide playful grin. “Is that your way of saying you were sick of seeing my one and only pitiful purple dress?”
He smiled. “Well, I wasn’t going to go there, but since you brought it up . . .”
They laughed.
“By the way, I would never call that purple dress of yours pitiful, not when you’re wearing it.”
She stepped away from the mirror and sat in the empty chair beside Calvin. Janae rubbed her hand across the furniture’s plush red velvet fabric and gold-colored wood trim arms. She bounced slightly, fully taking in the chair’s luxuriance. “I didn’t believe stores like this actually existed. It’s nice in here.”
“You like it in here?”
“I do,” she said, scrunching her nose playfully.
“Then let’s stay a while.”
Janae smiled. “And do what?”
“You’ll see.” Calvin flagged down the dressing-room attendant. “She would like to try on a few more suits. And throw in there a couple of dresses too.”
“What?” Janae giggled.
“Let me do this for you,” he said.
Janae looked at Calvin. The attendant returned a
nd was holding several pieces of clothing for Janae to try on. “I don’t know if we should be doing this.”
“Why not? We’re two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company in a dressing room.” He grinned.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little fun, right?” She smiled.
“Absolutely,” Calvin said.
Janae tried on every piece of the beautiful clothing and then sat down next to Calvin. “You can’t know how much this means to me. Just being here, able to relax for even just a few minutes. Thanks. I needed this.” After a while she said, “So, now we know what I’ll be wearing for the hearing. What about you?”
Calvin pressed his lips together, creating wrinkles on his chin. “I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll decide the day of.”
“Well, that’s not fair,” she teased. She stood up. “I’m going to change back into my own clothes, and when I’m done, be prepared to shop for you.”
Calvin leaned back into his seat and watched Janae until the dressing room stall door closed behind her.
“HERE, TRY ON THIS ONE.” JANAE SAID, HANDING CALVIN A BLACK BLAZER with thin gray stripes.
He immediately noticed that it was about four sizes too small but put it on anyway.
Janae laughed out loud. The sleeves ended about three inches above his wrists, and there was no way the buttons would ever close on his frame.
With a broad smile, Calvin said, “Do you see these shoulders?”
She nodded studiously. “I do. I do.”
“This is about enough fabric for one of my pockets.” Calvin chuckled.
“I promise, this one will be perfect,” Janae said, holding a charcoal-gray soft wool blazer toward him.
Feigning reluctance, Calvin slid into the blazer.
Janae stood back, a loose fist under her chin, admiring the fit. Even with the blazer buttoned, she noted Calvin’s muscular physique.
Calvin brushed his hands along the front of the jacket. “I like it. What do you think?”
Her eyes met his. “You are handsome,” she said, a little too quickly. “I mean, you look handsome . . . in that jacket.”
He smiled broadly and slightly bowed his head. “Thank you, Janae.” They stood quietly for a moment, staring at each other.
“Well, aren’t we the pair? You, devastatingly beautiful; me, handsome,” Calvin said, playfully pounding his chest.
Janae was rendered speechless by his compliment.
Chapter Twenty-six
THE STORY ABOUT MALIK AND YOUNG BLACK MALES AS AN ENDANGERED species was a hot news story, particularly in juxtaposition to the recent inauguration of President Barack Obama. It was discussed on television and radio. It was in the newspapers and all over the Internet. There were heated debates by all sorts of psychologists, sociologists, and legal experts on whether black boys were really threatened by the American way of life.
A popular black radio personality pledged to give daily attention to the life-threatening conditions of black boys until the politicians got serious about saving the young men.
“Enough is enough. We’ve gotta grab the government by the balls and say damn it we’re not going to tolerate you noosing up our kids anymore.”
“That’s bull****. Can I say bull**** on air? Stop it. Stop laughing. I have something very serious to say.”
“Man, go ahead and say it before I have to pay some bills.”
“You talk about the government but what about all the moms . . .”
“Don’t forget deadbeat dads.”
“If the parents can’t control the kids, don’t blame the government. These boys are dying at the hand of boys just like them. I mean, it’s not like white people are coming into our communities under the cover of darkness and taking black boys out. They are killing each other. Man, the government can’t fix that. Stop looking at me like that. What? I’m not changing my mind, that’s simply how I feel. You have the right to feel differently.”
“You damn straight I feel differently! Just so your producers know. I need someone a bit more on my level to converse with. For real, though, your comment misses the point. You have yet to mention that our kids are being harassed when they are illegally stopped simply because of how they look. There are black boys on death row. I got sons, and I don’t like the odds against them. Those things the politicians can damn sure do something about.”
The CPHR office was flooded with calls of support, as well as death threats. Many praised Roger for his work and even donated thousands of dollars to try both the criminal and civil cases. But a few vocal prominent black leaders demanded that his law license be revoked for reducing the social epidemic facing black boys to a mere circus.
Roger’s main focus was on the federal case. The government had requested a summary judgment on the ESA petition, arguing that the claim had no basis in law.
After reading the request in its entirety, Roger called Calvin.
“They threw everything in that request, including the kitchen sink,” Roger huffed. He snatched his hand from the phone to pick up the document again. He perched his reading glasses low on his nose. “Listen to this, Calvin. The government contends that because the country was founded on the tenet of life, liberty, and justice for all, to provide special protection as the complainant requests under the new ESA claim would violate the founding principles of the nation.”
“Well, we knew an argument like this wasn’t just going to go uncontested,” Calvin said, trying to calm his cocounsel down. “They’re not going to roll over and let you have your way. Let me guess—the request for summary judgment goes on to mention all the safeguards already in place to avoid discrimination against any specific group of people, like the Equal Protection Clause.”
“It’s laughable. They even have the nerve to mention the Thriteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments as if to say we’ve already done enough for black folks in particular. But what’s missing from this damn thing is the government’s position on what it proposes to do, when every law ever passed has done little to nothing to actually ensure that black boys are not unjustly treated.”
“So we hit a roadblock,” Calvin said, trying to redirect the conversation into a strategy session. “I think we file the strongest response our two minds can put together. I can meet you at the office.”
“Oh, no, that’s not the only thing we can do,” Roger said. “New law works just as good as old law. Bring Janae with you.”
“ROGER, I CAN’T KEEP TAKING OFF WORK FOR THESE LAST-MINUTE MEETINGS. They’re trying to fire me. I’m already on probation. If it wasn’t for my union rep, I’m sure I would already be gone by now.”
“Haven’t you explained to them what’s going on with your son?”
“Yeah, but people gotta eat lunch. If I can’t get to my register, then they’ll find someone who will. It’s that simple.”
“You’re too talented for that place anyway,” Roger said.
Janae’s eyes searched Calvin’s for understanding. She shook her head at Roger’s seeming lack of knowledge of the real world. “There are a lot of talented people who are cashiers, and trash collectors, and ditch diggers. It’s the job I have. It pays my bills. I need it.”
Roger closed the file he was reading and looked up at her. He pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing a bit. “If Malik wasn’t locked up and money wasn’t an object, what would you do?”
“That’s easy. I would go back to school. Get a college degree and hopefully find a job I love that I could make good money doing.”
“Then do it,” Calvin said, taking a step toward Janae. “It’s never going to be the perfect time to make your life better. You just have to do it, despite everything else.”
Roger pointed his finger at Calvin and shook it. “I agree with him one hundred and ten percent.”
“So, what? Are the two of you ganging up on me?”
Calvin smiled. “Would that help?”
“Ha! Real cute.” She grinned. She threw up her hands in surre
nder. “Okay, you’re probably right. In fact, I know you are right. But, in the meantime, Roger, I need notice; as much as you can give me.”
Roger nodded and then smacked the table with his hand. “Now that that’s settled, can we get down to business?” He laid the papers he was reading on the conference table. He positioned his reading glasses up on his head. “I’m ready to kick this up a notch. When I envisioned the outcome of these cases, I saw concrete change and measurable progress. The only way that is going to happen is if we get the laws changed. As it stands right now, the ESA claim is up in the air.” He grabbed at his abdomen. “My gut doesn’t feel too good about it, either. I’m not losing hope, but I’m also not willing to wait around, either. It’s time for Plan B. And that means getting some key politicians to take up our cause. I’ve already identified Senator Paul Evans and Congressmen Malcolm Butler and Kwame Stevens. Congressman Butler is a ranking member on the Judiciary Committee. And Stevens is one of the newer members on the Education and the Workforce Committees. I met Senator Evans briefly when I testified on Capitol Hill about Hurricane Katrina. He gave me his card and told me to contact him if I ever needed any political muscle on one of my future humanitarian efforts.”
Calvin scooted to the edge of his seat. “Well, have you contacted him?”
“I most certainly have, and he has agreed to give me a face-to-face.”
“What exactly are you going to ask of him?”
Roger shook his head. “It’s not what I’m going to ask of him; it’s what he is going to want to do. My goal is to get him to want to know more, and then to take action.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
THE MORNING’S HEARING WOULD DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT MALIK would be tried as an adult. Children imprisoned with men were often physically abused and handed around like sex toys. I’ve got to protect Malik.
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