Life

by Sullivan, Leo

  “My name is Steven Davis,” he said priming his big lips with a moistened tongue craning his neck forward trying to speak into the microphone.

  “Would you mind telling me how you suffered the injury to your head?” Scandels asked.

  “I was hit upside da head wit a ten-pound weight while I was doing bench presses on the rec yard.” A slight gasp rushed through the courtroom and Scandels played out the moment for what it was worth, with a grimace, he shook his head.

  “So you were attacked as you worked out. Is that safe to say?”

  “Yes.”

  “Objection.” My assistant Taya Baker was on her feet, a deep chocolate woman with a complexion so smooth it made you want to touch her. Her eyes were large and penetrating. With her short locks of black hair and slender figure of an athlete it was hard to believe the woman was 52 years old and an experienced warrior in the courtroom.

  “There is no relevance in this line of questioning. I don’t see where the prosecution is headed.”

  “Your Honor, the prosecution intends to show the relationship between this assault and the hideous acts committed by the defendant, to establish a criminal pattern of behavior.”

  “Overruled. Counsel I suggest you make your point and move along,” the judge said to Scandels.

  “Mr. Davis do you see the man in this courtroom that assaulted you?” Scandels asked. Stevey D’s arm bolted straight forward pointing a finger at Life Thugstin. A slight rustle of noise came from the courtroom. I looked at a few jurors’ faces and they looked visibly uncomfortable.

  “Bitch ass nigga,” Life said loud enough for the entire courtroom to hear. I wanted to climb under the table. The judge banged the gavel and glared in our direction.

  I reached under the table and squeezed Life’s hand.

  “Shhh,” I whispered under my breath and looked up to see the satisfied grin on Scandels’ face. His demeanor shifted like some wild animal that was onto the scent of blood, I saw it in his blue eyes.

  “Could you tell us about your relationship with the defendant, Life Thugstin? Have you ever bought drugs from this man?”

  “Yes,” Stevey D said.

  “How many times?”

  “Two, three hundred times,” Stevey D responded. Looking around the courtroom, his fidgeting appeared to be getting worse as he folded and unfolded his hands.

  “What sort of drugs were they?”

  “Cocaine.”

  Scandels rubbed his hands together and began to stroll away from the witness box. Stevey D’s eyes followed him like a lost child.

  “How much drugs do you think Life Thugstin distributed throughout the community?”

  “Objection!” Taya Baker was on her feet. “Your Honor, that calls for speculation.”

  “Sustained. The witness is required to testify only to what he knows to be a fact.” Scandels apologized to the court and continued with the witness.

  “Approximately how much drugs did you buy from the defendant?”

  “Two or three hundred keys.”

  “Bitch ass nigga tellin’ a damn lie,” Life mumbled next to me.

  Scandels walked back up to the witness stand being sure to handle the nervous Stevey D with kid gloves.

  “Other than him assaulting you with the weight, have you ever known him to be violent?”

  “Yes,” Stevey D answered a little too quick for my liking. Now I was sure that they rehearsed this whole thing, and now Scandels was coaching him along.

  “Could you please explain to the court?” Stevey D batted his eyes, craned his neck forward and looked out into the audience.

  “Life had a son by the name of Shawn L. He was about 3 years old, somebody tried to rob him at the mall or sumpin’. Afterward, him and his men went on a killin’ spree killin’ three cops and shoving a stick of dynamite up one of the cops’ anus.”

  “Objection! Objection! Objection!” All three of us rose in unison. This was the precipice of disaster. The witness’ inflammatory statement was past damaging; it could be the coup de grace to our case. Adrienne Greene spoke vehemently. Her large breasts heaved up with each pronounced word. She, like the rest of us, was angry and made no secret of trying to hide it.

  “Your Honor! This is outrageous! My client is not on trial for murder. The prosecution is intentionally trying to soil the minds of the jury by tainting my client as a murderer, thus severely prejudicing him with the inference that he is responsible for other crimes. Your Honor at this juncture the defense has no other recourse but to ask the court for a mistrial,” Adrienne said brusquely as a stir erupted throughout the courtroom. The judge removed his glasses. With a weary hand he mopped at his bald dome and glared at the prosecutors.

  “The jury is instructed to disregard the prosecutor’s last statement. The defendant is not on trial for murder; therefore, any implications of such can’t be used in this courtroom against him. I will be more than happy to consider a motion for mistrial,” the judge said. I’m sure at that moment I was not the only one at the defense table that felt a ray of hope, and then the judge added, “However, I will make my ruling depending on the outcome of this trial.” My heart plummeted when I heard that. I wanted it to end then. The damage was done irrevocably, like slapping each juror in the face giving them a black eye, and then telling them to forget about it. They would never forget about the black eye that Scandels had just slandered Life with. I wanted to kick myself. Shrewd like a fox and conniving like the devil, Scandels had just outwitted me. I would have to lie and wait to entrap him, but how?

  *****

  Chapter Twenty

  “The Lion’s Den”

  – Hope –

  Judge Stafford called for a recess for the remainder of the day. Life looked over at me with a somber expression that stopped my heart as the bailiffs led him away. I saw it in his eyes like my reflection in the mirror, fear. Stevey D’s statement was damaging. We both knew it.

  It was Friday and Adrienne Greene, the more experienced of our defense team, was scheduled to cross-examine the witness Stevey D on Monday morning. I secretly wanted a piece of him, to make him squirm on the stand. But the last few weeks I had not been feeling well, I was just not myself. The weight loss, fatigue and the preparation for the trial in such a short time had really taken a toll on me.

  *****

  The prosecuting attorney held a news conference on the courtroom stairs and did a long drawn out statement about the war on drugs. He enjoyed the press and played every minute for what it was worth. He made a promise to send a message to all criminals. He also made a promise to send Life to prison for the rest of his life.

  My associates and I squeezed through the crowds of reporters and spectators and into our waiting limousine. “No comment,” was my response to the bombshell Scandels had just hit us with.

  Life Thugstin, the cop killer? That would be the headlines in the morning newspaper.

  *****

  As soon as I was inside my house, like usual, I checked my messages on my answering machine. My brother in prison called. Shit! I forgot to send him his money order. It was right there on the kitchen table. I checked the other messages, one was from my Dad. Normally I would have called him to make sure he was taking his high blood pressure medicine but all of my energy has been depleted. Another message was from Stan, my ex-husband’s lover. I thought that was strange as I reflected back, he had been trying to get in contact with me for the last few weeks and I never returned the calls. I decided to call my Dad and then maybe Stan, my way of keeping tabs on Marcus. Funny as it may have seemed, I still loved the man.

  “Hi baby girl!” My dad sounded excited to hear from me. “We’ve been watchin’ the case on the news and in the papers down here. They ran an article in the Miami Times about you being the little girl from the Pork and Beans projects. Baby I’m so proud of you.” I heard my Daddy’s voice quiver. “I don’t like that white man the media say you used to work fo’, what his name?”

  “David Scandels,
” I responded.

  My Dad went on to tell me that my oldest brother had been arrested again for drugs. He had a bad drug addiction. I just prayed that the media would not get wind of that. God knows I love my family, but now I found my family background extremely embarrassing.

  “Baby girl, I’m so happy you done made somet’in’ outta yo life. I love you sweetheart.”

  “I love you too, Daddy,” I said and hung up the phone and wept a lone tear as I tried to force the thought of the long trial out of my mind. Today, like the rest of the days, I was so tired.

  I decided to go ahead and call Stan. I knew that one day I was going to have to put my differences to the side. I took a deep breath and made the call. He answered on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Hope Evans, you left your number on my answering machine.” Silence.

  “Hmmm, ah, yes.” Stan stuttered nervously. “Hope, we need to talk.”

  “That’s why I called,” I said sarcastically. “Whatever it is you have to talk about we can discuss it over the phone.”

  “This is important, I don’t feel it would be appropriate to talk over the phone.”

  “Hell, was it appropriate to come into my home and use my bed? Whatever you got to say Stan, please say it over the phone.” I scuffed rudely, not realizing I was so bitter.

  “Marcus is in the hospital. He is dying.”

  “What!?” I screeched. “What’s wrong with him?” I heard my voice say in a high pitch that seemed not to belong to me.

  “Marcus has AIDS,” Stan said ominously.

  I sat on the floor and looked at the tiny blemishes that started to form on my arms like tiny rashes. Was it possible that I too, was dying from this virulent disease? Oh God! I burst into tears and began to cry on the phone. “See what you have done! What about you? Do you have it?”

  “Yes, the doctors think he contracted it from me. I am what is known as a carrier. It could be years before I start to show any signs.”

  “God help me! If I had a gun I would come over there and blow your fuckin’ brains out.”

  “Hope, I’m so –”

  Click.

  I hung the phone up in his face. Quickly, I undressed, examining myself in the mirror, my hands trembled, it was then that I realized, if I did have the disease, I did not want to know. But that weekend, I made an appointment to see my doctor, he did some blood tests and said that he would let me know in the coming weeks. I never told him about my ex-husband and the deadly disease.

  The entire weekend I was a wreck, but I found a way to relieve stress by working on the case. My staff and I worked feverishly going over all the documents and many depositions taken from the witnesses that planned to testify against Life. The entire time, in the back of my mind, I knew that there was a chance that I wouldn’t test positive for AIDS. I was going on 26 years old, and a single parent with my whole life ahead of me. I would just have to wait for the test results to come back from the doctor’s office.

  *****

  On Monday, the day the trial was to continue, Adrienne was scheduled to cross-examine the witness. She showed up at my office sick and cramping so bad that she could hardly stand up straight. So at the last moment it was decided that I would be the one to cross-examine the witness, Stevey D. Secretly I loved the opportunity to have the rat on stand. I knew he was a liar. Now all I need to do was catch him in a lie and prove it. I had a plan.

  *****

  As usual, the courtroom was packed to capacity and the media was there jocking for the scoop of the day. Also were the members of the church and I saw my girl Nandi. For the sake of all the media attention we thought it was best to not be seen hanging out together, so while she was in town for the trial she stayed at a hotel. When she saw me she saluted me with a clinched fist. Black power! Next to her were some of my Delta sisters looking dignified and proud.

  By the time we arrived at the defense table, Life was already there. As usual he was dressed immaculately with his Brooks Brothers suit on. It made me want to drool all over him. And for the first time since the bombshell had been dropped on me, I smiled at the man with my child’s eyes, as I thought about all the sexual fantasies I’d harbored for this brotha. Just being near him made my panties wet. I decided if we beat this trial, I was going to confess everything, he being the father to my son and the fact that I loved him with my very last breath. Now two things hung over my head like a dagger about to drop, one, to lose the trial and two, the very real imminent threat of my death.

  I knew I had to take the witness apart on the stand. He was what we lawyers call a hostile witness. Life must have sensed my concerns. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “We gon’ be OK as long as we keep fighting back.” I could smell cocoa butter and something else sweet emitting from his body as his lips brushed against my earlobe. Charge! At that moment in time, I could have rushed to the witness stand and fought like hell for Life Thugstin’s freedom. And now like lioness, my staff of all Black females sat huddled around him, perfumes mingling, campaigning a strategy to champion a cause to defeat our all white adversaries. In essence, we were the female version of Hannibal. I looked over to my right, I could see that Adrienne was in pain but still determined to support us with the resilience in the face of adversity.

  *****

  After the prolonged ritual of introducing the judge and swearing in the witness, I was finally able to cross examine the witness. My mind was on attack mode. That day Stevey D was his same nervous self. Eyes darting all over the courtroom. Today he wore a black shirt and gray slacks. The gauze bandage around his head looked to be soiled with blood. I approached the witness stand gingerly and wore a broad smile, the kind we women use to flirt with, to give him a little dose of female charm. I needed to loosen him up, to make him vulnerable to entrap himself. I unbuttoned the first two buttons on my blouse, leaned closer out of the view of the jury and the audience. The only two people who could see what I was doing were the judge and the witness on the stand.

  “Please state your name for the record,” I said smiling, exposing as much cleavage as I could get away with without being seen.

  “Steven Davis.” He smiled back at me nervously while taking the liberty to peek down my blouse. I knew that he had been in the FCI holding facility for nineteen months snitching on all his buddies. I also knew the disposition of Black men that languish in prisons too long, if given the chance they would gladly make love to a hundred and ten year old woman in a wheelchair as if she were God’s gift to man. I knotted my brow with sympathy, spoke with empathy. I leaned on the witness stand up close, making my breasts strain against the soft fabric of my blouse so that he could spy on my nipples.

  “Mr. Davis you said that you were assaulted.” I crinkled my forehead and leaned forward. More cleavage. I looked up and caught the judge’s eyes all in my blouse too, like maybe he was into jungle fever at one time or another. With the question, Stevey D looked past me and directly at Scandels, like maybe he was asking for permission to answer the question. I knew for sure right then and there that the prosecuting office had been coaching him right along. I intentionally blocked his view by positioning my body so that he could not see the prosecutor’s table.

  “Could you please tell the court again what happened on the day that you were allegedly assaulted?”

  I took a step back at the same time I buttoned up my blouse. It was time for me to mount my attack.

  “I was on the recreation yard lifting weights and Life crept up behind me and hit me wit a weight.”

  I frowned as I turned and cast a look at Life as if to say, how could you do such a thing to such a nice person?

  “So you were on the rec yard minding your own business and pow!” I gestured with my hand in a mock blow. “So after you were struck, what happened then?”

  Stevey D shrugged his narrow shoulders and said, “The next thing I knew I woke up in the hospital a week later with 188 stitches in my head.”

 
“You woke up in the hospital? Why didn’t you fight back?” I said, stabbing at his male ego. This was my bait luring him into laxity, to cause a slip of the tongue.

  “He crept up behind me. I never saw him comin’. My homies told me he did it.”

  “So, you never saw him hit you?” I asked, making a face.

  Stevey D cut his eyes away from me and tried to look at the defense table. I blocked his view. “But I know it was him.”

  I moved in for the kill. “Answer the question!” My voice echoed in the courtroom. “Did you, or did you not, see the defendant Life Thugstin hit you?!”

  “Objection!” Scandels was on his feet. “Your Honor, Ms. Evans is badgering the witness.”

  “Your Honor, I simply want the witness to answer the question,” I said curtly. The judge turned to the witness. “You are to answer the question, either yes or no. Objection overruled.”

  “No ... no, I didn’t see ‘em hit me,” Stevey D said reluctantly.

  I turned to the jury with a sour expression, waited a second to let the fact sink in. He didn’t see who hit him. I turned back to the witness.

  “How much did you make Mr. Davis, during your drug selling endeavor?”

  Stevey D narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously and then answered, “A lot.” Someone laughed in the back of the courtroom.

  “How much is a lot?” I asked walking up closer to him.

  “Eighty … ninety thousand,” Stevey D said with his hustler’s bragging face on. The one thing about some hustlers I learned while living in the projects, they would never miss an opportunity to shine. “I once made a hundred grand.”

  “Wow!” I gibed and made a face like I was really impressed. I walked over to the other side of the witness stand to make sure that the jury could see me. This was important. I had to drive home my point to convince the jury that the witness could not be trusted. With a mock show of confession I furrowed my brow with disdain for the witness and went for the kill. With all my might I slammed the writing tablet I had in my hand down hard on the witness stand causing one of the elderly jurors to jump in her seat. Stevey D flinched nervously.