by Tysha
“Hey, William, haven’t seen you in quite a few years,” greeted Shy.
“Hello, Miss Shy. What’s going on with you, Cherise?” replied William.
“Shit, we down here to see our sons, Prince McGee and Raequan Jackson. They were brought down here a couple of hours ago and we need to see them now,” demanded Cherise.
William took a deep breath before speaking again. His shift would be over in less than a half hour and he was not in the mood to do battle with two overprotective mothers. If they’d kept a closer watch on their boys, they would not be standing in the juvenile detention center, demanding to see their pride and joy.
“Yeah, I recognized the names when they were checked in. Prince looks just like his father; even his mannerisms remind me of Melvin. Cherise your son kind of looks like Prince. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Look, William, go get them so we can make sure they were not the victims of police brutality. You know how y’all do,” spat Cherise.
“First of all, I am not a police officer. Secondly, for someone who needs something from me, you sure are getting on my bad side.” William smirked.
“William, please forgive Cherise. She’s just upset about what happened today and we are both stressing out right now. Look, we go way back and I know this is a huge favor to ask but please, let us see Prince and Raequan. I won’t be able to get any sleep tonight unless I see for myself that Prince is all right. He has never been detained overnight before. His having to stay here is foreign to me,” Shy explained.
“All right, Shy, I’ll bend the rules for you,” said William while rolling his eyes in Cherise’s direction, “but please make it quick. I could get written up for this.”
Shy sat in the stiff chair with her left leg shaking a mile a minute. Her nerves were more on edge than she wanted to let on. Sitting in the visitation room, waiting to see her son, had her stomach doing flips. When the door opened and Shy set eyes on her son, it took all she had not to burst out in tears. Shy knew that if she was strong, Prince would be too. The last thing she wanted was for him to be worried about her when all of his attention needed to be on the situation at hand.
“Hi, Mommy,” said Prince with a forced smile.
“Hi, baby, are you doing okay? You all right?” Shy knew Prince was feeling afraid, slighted, or guilty whenever he addressed her as Mommy.
“Yes, Ma, I’m doing okay. You know I ain’t no punk. I can get through this standing on my head. We go to court in the morning and the judge will probably send me home with you.”
“Well, you know I’m going to go get you a lawyer. There is no way in hell I can send you along this path with a public defender. They get their paychecks from the same place as the prosecutor. You have to look out for yourself.”
“Ma, don’t go wasting money on no lawyer. I didn’t even do anything so nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m good,” Prince arrogantly said.
“Then you really do need a lawyer if you didn’t do anything. Boy, don’t you know that you are guilty because of the color of your skin and the way your pants hang down off your behind? You don’t know everything, Prince. If you did, you wouldn’t be down here now. Enough with all of that. Tell me what happened, and what did you do today, skip class again?”
“Yes, Ma, I did. We were all hanging out at the corner store up there on Earl and Market Streets. We were just hanging out and shit.”
“What?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ma. That was a slip of the tongue.”
At that moment Prince was glad to be in a room with glass separating them, because he knew Shy wouldn’t hesitate to hall off and pop him in his “filthy mouth,” as she labeled it. Prince loved and admired his mother but she had no idea how the streets were. Being young, black, and male in the city of Youngstown was like being in a war zone from one day to the next. The pressure to have money, material possessions, and the strength to beat somebody down for disrespecting you was mandatory.
“Anyway, we were just chillin’ and laughing and stuff when a couple of girls we knew rolled up, so me and NuNu—”
“Who? How many times do I have to tell you that if their street name isn’t what their momma put on their birth certificates, I am not interested? Now who is NuNu?”
“Carlos. Me and my boy Carlos went across the street to holler at them. The next thing I know, Raequan and Mike are taunting some old white lady who was trying to get inside the store. Then all of a sudden, they mug the lady and go running off behind houses and stuff. I was not involved in all of that mess. You know that ain’t me, Ma.”
“Why did you get arrested instead of Mike?”
“Ma, we all sport white T-shirts, baggy jeans, and braids. That lady probably wouldn’t be able to tell us apart if we had our names printed across our chest.”
“Well, I do have to agree with that. Sometimes I have trouble keeping the names and faces straight,” admitted Shy. “So tomorrow at court you’ll let the judge know that Mike was involved and not you, so maybe I won’t need to get you a private attorney.”
“Naw, Ma, it can’t even go down like that. I can’t be labeled a snitch in here or out on those streets. That’s a death wish, Ma.” Prince looked deep into his mother’s eyes, searching for any sign that she understood where he was coming from.
Shy knew how much the rules of the streets had changed since she was a teenager. She thanked God for each and every day her boys were blessed to see. In a recent report, the city she had always called home was listed as one of the most dangerous cities in the country. Melvin often schooled Shy on the code of the streets. Some things were non-negotiable and no snitching always topped the list.
“Ma, I know you probably don’t understand where I’m coming from but please keep our conversation between us. I shouldn’t have told you as much as I have.”
It took all Shy tried not to burst into tears. She would be the first to admit that Prince often got himself into reckless situations and his temper could be out of control, but he was always honest with her. At times, she would have to drag the truth out of him because he wouldn’t just volunteer to tell his mother something that would probably end in her knocking him to his knees, but Prince never lied to Shy.
“Prince, this is serious. The deck is already stacked against you in the justice system. You’re young, black, and male and the last thing you want to do is start your life off with a possible felony on your record. There is no way I can just sit by and let that happen to you, Prince. As much as I love Raequan, he is not my responsibility, you are. You are my child, my reason for breathing, and it is my job to protect you. I’m getting you a lawyer,” said a drained Shy.
“What do you want me to do, Ma? I can’t run my mouth and walk out of here. The streets don’t forgive snitching, Ma, don’t you understand that? Don’t be wasting your money on no lawyer. I can just hook up with one of those public defenders.” Prince was getting frustrated because it didn’t seem as if his mother completely understood him. She just didn’t get it; snitching could be an automatic death sentence.
“Are you serious? You really don’t want me to get you a lawyer?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ma, sometimes you’re going to have to just let me fall,” Prince whispered, dropping his head down to his chest.
“Prince Jayden McGee, there is a difference between me letting you fall and me leaving you for dead. If I allowed your black behind to walk into that courtroom, at age seventeen, facing at least one felony with nothing more than a public defender to fight for you, I would be leaving you for dead. Now, this is not up for debate and the matter is closed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Prince apologetically. He knew his mother was right and Prince also knew how tight money was at home. Having to see his mother appear to struggle financially because of him made Prince hurt even more for his father. Melvin always took care of Shy and their boys. Prince couldn’t remember having to worry about getting new shoes or designer clothes, or what would be underneath the Christmas tree.<
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“Shy, I’m sorry but you’re going to have to get going,” interrupted William. “He’s due in court tomorrow morning at nine in courtroom fifty-five B.”
“Okay, William, thank you. Prince, you are strong; be safe and keep your head up. I’ll do what I have to do to help you through this. I love you.”
“Ma, I’m sorry about this and I will be okay,” promised Prince.
Shy wiped the tear that escaped from her eye and blew her son a kiss good night. She had a feeling they had a long road ahead of them and it was imperative that Prince remained strong. Prince stood to leave, when Shy called out to him.
“Prince, you know Mommy got your back, right?”
“You always have, Mommy.”
“What’s good?” Raequan spoke from the other side of the glass.
“Shit, little nigga, you tell me,” responded Cherise.
“Man, you know them punk-ass blues be hatin’ on a playa.”
“What made you stand out for them to hate on you this time?”
“Look, Ma, all of that don’t matter because they got me hemmed up right now. All I want to know is how long it’s going to take you to get me back out on dem streets?” asked Raequan in a demanding tone.
“I can’t do anything for you until you go to court in the morning, and you better hope your probation officer doesn’t decide to violate you for not completing your community service and paying restitution for your last fuck up,” snapped Cherise. “Enough of this bullshit; did you mug or rob some little white woman?” Cherise knew the answer before posing the question. Her relationship with her only son was one of veteran hustler and hustler-in-training. Raequan had no idea what it felt like to have parents in his life. His mother was more of a business partner than a protective, loving parent, and his father had been locked up for the betterpart of Raequan’s life.
“It all started off as a joke and it just went a little too far. We were just messing with the lady, making fun of her and shit. Everything would have been cool if her little ass wouldn’t have run off at the mouth, calling me a worthless thug and shit,” explained Raequan.
“What did Prince’s scary ass do?”
“Nothing. He ain’t have nothing to do with it but the lady couldn’t tell him and Mike apart. He just got caught up and shit. Enough of that talk; you know they got these rooms equipped with recording devices to go along with the cameras. They’re probably recording every word we drop.”
“So what the fuck you gon’ do? Are you going to let the courts know they arrested the wrong person?”
“No, I ain’t snitchin’! I can’t believe you’d even ask me some shit like that.”
“Shit, I really don’t care who the fuck they lock up behind this. You’re probably going to be in here for a minute and Prince ain’t the first innocent person to be locked up and he damn sure won’t be the last. Fuck him” stated Cherise nonchalantly.
“Word.”
Chapter 12
You Were Raised Better
Lying on the uncomfortable, cold mat assigned to him made every inch of Prince’s body ache. There was only one old, smelly blanket to cover up with and Prince thought for sure if sleep found him he would freeze to death. It was the longest night of his life and Prince could not wait to get to court and released into the custody of his mother. Unfortunately for him, that day would be a long time coming.
Cherise and Shy sat in the first row, waiting to get a look at their little boys. Knowing her son the way she did, Shy knew how scared Prince must have been waking up in jail. It was an experience she prayed would send him running back to the right path. He was very intelligent and kindhearted but he always sold himself short. Witnessing his father’s death was very traumatic for Prince, but he rebelled against every counselor Shy took him to.
Shy dipped into her secret emergency money to retain a lawyer for her son but he had yet to show up in court.
“I can’t believe it. They have started calling cases and the lawyer hasn’t arrived yet,” said a nervous Shy.
“Girl, don’t even trip. I don’t know why you paid all of that money for a lawyer anyway. I’m sure you would qualify for a public defender. Why pay for something when you can get it for free?” asked Cherise in between popping her chewing gum.
“One, you and that gum are working my nerves. Two, my children deserve the best and a public defender will not work for Prince as an individual. Each and every boy being escorted into this courtroom so far has been black; trust me when I tell you that’s not a coincidence. Prince isn’t just another statistic and I’m not leaving him out there for dead.”
Shy’s tone was defensive and so was her stand on the situation at hand. She didn’t care what people said about her baby, he was worth saving and anyone who did not believe it could kiss her ass. Cherise just looked at Shy without saying another word.
Six boys had been brought out and paraded in front of the judge, who had yet to look up from the files his clerk placed in front of him. Each boy was ordered held until their next court date, even the ones charged with misdemeanors and who had no record.
Shy looked over at Cherise, trying to figure out why she did not appear to be as nervous as she was. Cherise always seemed so detached from everything and everyone except her son and that twenty-five-to-life-serving, sorry-ass husband of hers. Knowing how her friend dealt with things, Shy figured Cherise was nervous as she was on the inside.
Sitting in the courtroom had Shy’s stomach doing all kinds of flips and somersaults. Shy sat wringing her hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking. Her leg jumped a mile a minute and she was sure she was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.
Cherise’s eyes searched the crowded courtroom for any familiar faces. The crackling of her gum was getting on the nerves of everyone around her, including Shy, but Cherise did not give a damn. Chewing gum was how she worked out troubling issues. Though she had been the stereotypical worried single mother sitting inside the courtroom before, this one felt different. With Raequan’s record, he was most likely going to be serving some time in the juvenile detention center.
“Would you please stop it,” voiced Shy.
“Stop what?” Cherise asked.
“Cracking that damn gum. It’s getting on my last damn nerve,” Shy snapped.
A few of the women sitting around Shy and Cherise agreed with nods of the head, a few “amen’s,” and a couple “mm huh’s.” Cherise rolled her eyes at the collective sea of browns, beiges, and chocolates, with a look that warned them not to say another word. She popped her gum one more time just to annoy Shy.
“Cherise, would you quit it!” The words came out louder than Shy intended, but she meant them nonetheless.
“Prince McGee and Raequan Jackson are present, Your Honor. Both boys are charged with auto theft, assault, and evading arrest,” announced the court clerk before Cherise could respond to Shy.
Shy’s heart raced and she broke out in a sweat. Prince made eye contact with his mother and they exchanged forced smiles, both trying to be strong for the other. Shy could not believe what she was hearing. It was clear that the boys were being thrown into the lion’s den, and Prince’s lawyer still had not arrived.
“How do you plead, Mr. Jackson?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty, fo’ sho,” replied a cocky Raequan.
“‘Not guilty’ will suffice; the extra Ebonics are not necessary,” said the judge without looking up from the open file. “And you, Mr. McGee, how do you plead?”
“Not guilty, sir,” responded Prince in a nervous voice.
“Is counsel present for each defendant?” asked Judge Alderman.
“Yes, Your Honor. Simon Priestley for both defendants,” replied a young white man who looked to be the same age as his clients.
“Good. Both defendants are held over until their trial dates. Next case,” said Judge Alderman as he closed the file on the boys.
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but Prince McGee has never been arrested an
d has no record at all. I would ask that you reconsider your decision and send him home on house arrest until a deal can be reached with the prosecution or the trial date.” Mr. Priestley spoke with no authority or interest.
“How does the prosecution feel about the request?” asked Judge Alderman.
“Due to the seriousness of the charges, the state requests Prince McGee be held over ’til the next court date,” replied Marianne Boyce. Like the judge, she too kept her eyes down during the verbal exchange.
“Sorry, Mr. Priestley, but your client will be held until the next court date. I suggest that you and the state get together and discuss a plea. The court’s calendar is full and both dependents may be guests of the state of Ohio for some time.”
With that being said, the judge slammed his gavel, and Shy watched her son be led out of the courtroom. Cherise rose from her seat, expecting Shy to follow her lead. Shy’s legs felt so weak she was sure to fall if she tried to stand. She tried to wrap her mind around what just happened, but fear would not allow it.
“Shy, honey, come on, let’s get out of here,” Cherise said. She rubbed her friend’s back in an attempt to snap her out of her daze. Cherise’s eye caught sight of a handful of other women who looked to be in need of a best friend. This must be their first time in court behind one of their children, thought Cherise. Though she understood their current positions, the only woman she gave a damn about was Shy. “Everything is going to be okay. Just grab my arm and lean on me. I won’t let you fall. Prince is safe as long as Raequan is with him and, anyway, his lawyer is probably in the hall waiting for you.”
Shy had no idea how long she was zoned out but she snapped back of it at the mention of Raequan being behind bars with her baby.
“Yeah, Raequan will watch out for Prince, right?” asked Shy in a childlike voice.