Sonny shook his head and waved off his comment. “Nothing, it’s not important.”
They made small talk, and Keyshia told him about the trip they took upstate to see his father.
“Y’all did what?” Sonny said with surprise and anger.
Keyshia explained to him about why Clyde wanted to confront his father. “He actually went there to confront him and make him answer for your mother. Clyde was gonna give him an option of killing himself or waiting till he got out and then he was gonna kill him.” Sonny’s eyes burned with intensity as he listened. “Clyde even smuggled in some pills that was laced with poison to give him.”
“So what happened?” Sonny asked quickly.
“He didn’t give them to him.”
Sonny was livid. “Why not?”
“ ’Cause he changed his mind. He didn’t think that he shot your mother.”
Sonny rolled his eyes and gripped his seat tightly to prevent himself from standing up and throwing the chair. “And he believed that lying bastard?”
Keyshia shook her head. “Sonny, one thing I learned about Clyde is that he’s a good judge of character. He knows how to read people, read people’s minds. He could tell if they were a friend or enemy, lying or telling the truth, reliable or untrustworthy, just by watching their body language.”
Sonny nodded. “Yeah, he always been like that.” He chuckled. “That li’l nigga wouldn’t say a word, just watch you. And when you think he wasn’t looking, he would tell you about yourself if you tried to put one over on him.”
Keyshia said, “That’s why he forgave your father, Sonny, because he knew he loved your mother too much to ever hurt her.”
Sonny folded his arms and thought about everything she said. “Well, somebody did. That bullet ain’t get in her face by itself.”
After their visit was over, they hugged and said their good byes. “You make sure you take care of yourself out there and don’t worry yourself to death, awright?” Sonny said like a big brother. Keyshia smiled and said that she wouldn’t. She turned and was walking away when Sonny yelled out, “Yo, Keysh!”
Keyshia turned and watched him eye the floor like a child. “Yeah, Sonny?”
He looked up and said, “I’m glad to have you in the family.”
Keyshia smiled and said, “Thank you, Sonny.”
They walked away, and again Sonny called out to her: “Oh, yeah, happy birthday!”
Keyshia frowned for a moment and suddenly realized that it was in fact her eighteenth birthday and she hadn’t even remembered it because of everything that was going on.
Sonny smiled and said, “Clyde was mentioning your birthday so much, the date never left my head.”
It had been more than six months since Clyde was put into deep segregation, since Keyshia had heard or spoken to him. Unable to see him, she turned miserable and reclusive. She no longer came outside other than to drop letters to Clyde into the corner mailbox. Her world consisted of their one-bedroom basement apartment. The outside world no longer mattered to her as resentment and anger festered within her. The pregnancy was hard on her as she endured both physical and psychological pain throughout the day, and it was even harder at night. Many days she just wanted to end it right there, but she knew she had a mission to do before dying. But each time she felt her growing stomach, she couldn’t help but wonder—what if she could turn back the hands of time? What if Clyde were there with her and she were in his arms as he caressed her stomach? What if they were having a boy? What if this were just a demented nightmare?
Even though Keyshia wrote Clyde faithfully every day, he no longer wrote back. She stayed in contact with his public defender to try to get an update on his case and court dates. He seemed to be overworked and too busy to speak to her in depth, which always pissed Keyshia off, but she tolerated it just to get even a bit of information. After their indictments were handed down and Clyde pleaded not guilty, all Keyshia could do was wait till his trial date, which he said would be anywhere from six months up to a year.
It was February 14, Valentine’s Day, when the letter arrived, eight months from the day he was arrested—it was from Clyde. She read the letter over and over again:
My Beloved Aihsyek
As you know, my trial date is scheduled for February 23, at the Federal Court Building on 40 Centre Street. I spoke to my lawyer and he feels I have a very good chance of beating this. I feel the same way. I know you are happy for me. I’m ready to live a brand-new life shortly after that and we can live together forever and ever, just like we talked about many, many times before. There should be only three charges that stand in my way, but I’m only worried about two of them. You should give yourself about three hours’ worth of time in case it is crowded. You may have to sit in the back. I want you to bring two cigars, not the cheap ones, so we can celebrate on our way out the door. Do you remember Mike? He said he can get us some of the best champagne to celebrate with, plus he will keep it on ice for us. Damn, I can hardly wait to be in your arms again. I’ll write you plenty more as the days pass, so until then be well.
Love, Clyde
P.S. As soon as we hear those sweet words, “Not Guilty,” we going to celebrate like it’s the Fourth of July.
Keyshia knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was now the beginning of the end for them, and she was relieved. The mental duress of being away from Clyde was just too much for her to take any longer.
On Clyde’s first day in court, on Wednesday, Keyshia was already seated in the front when they brought him into the courtroom. He wore an off-color brown suit that looked two sizes too small for him. He also had on a funky old-fashioned brown tie that looked as though someone had attempted to fix around his collar but had given up. His normally well-groomed hair was now a short, matted Afro with ragged sideburns that made him look like he was reliving the sixties. He looked so innocent and helpless as he sat in the defendant’s chair, turning around periodically to get a glimpse of her. She wanted to cry! Keyshia wanted to hug him, to kiss him, or even touch him, but she knew it would be impossible. She turned suddenly and spotted Ceasar, whom she hadn’t spoken to since the day she’d accused him of wrongdoing. She knew by his expression that he was equally appalled at his brother’s appearance. Ceasar nodded, and she nodded in return and turned around.
When the judge entered everyone was told to rise. Keyshia vowed that she would do everything in her power to prevent Clyde from seeing her condition. She didn’t want that issue to enter his mind and cause him unnecessary worry and pain. She hid her body from him by ensuring that she would always be in the courtroom before he entered and exit only after he was gone.
Pretrial jury selection had already taken place, and this was the first day the DA would present evidence to the jury. Keyshia hadn’t heard a word of what was said by either attorney. The only thing that mattered was seeing her man Clyde, who was a mere ten feet in front of her.
The prosecutor vowed to the jurors that this was an open-and-shut case and that they had videos, they had fingerprints, and they had eyewitnesses. By the time he finished his opening argument, you would have thought Clyde was the Antichrist.
After two days of presenting evidence, hearing from witnesses, and watching the incriminating videos, the prosecution and defense gave their closing arguments and rested. Clyde never took the stand.
The jury was adjourned until Monday morning, when a verdict would be rendered. Keyshia was sure that it would be a long weekend.
Chapter 33
_______________
It was five-thirty in the morning when Keyshia sat up painfully in bed. She hadn’t been able to get out of bed for three days now, not even to eat. She suddenly felt a need to get on her knees and pray to God, something she hadn’t done since she was twelve years old and He didn’t answer her prayers to have the pastor stop doing bad things to her. But this morning was different, and the urge was overwhelming to ask Him to give her the strength not only to complete her mission, but to showe
r, dress, and make it downtown in spite of her awful sickness. She rolled onto her knees and prayed. Prayed like she never did before as she cried out to God.
“God, I know You and me ain’t communicate in a while. And You should also know the reason why I ain’t been talking to You is because You ain’t been there for me like they say You would. I ain’t do nothing to deserve what You been giving me. And when I do find happiness, why You don’t see fit to have me keep it instead of taking it away, Lord?” Keyshia began to grow angry. “They say You suppose ta take care of fools and babies. Well, Lord, I am both—when are You going to start taking care of me for a change!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She shook her head as if nothing mattered anymore. “Lord, I’m tired of crying. I’m to the point that I ain’t got no more tears to cry, and all I want from You is to give me strength to get out of here and save the only man that ever loved me.” She looked up and said, “Please, God, I ain’t asking for much, please.”
Keyshia closed her eyes and took a deep breath and used her elbows as support, lifting one leg at a time as she labored to rise off the floor. When she was on her feet, she closed her eyes in relief and thanked God silently before she waddled off into the bathroom, where she took a much needed shower.
Keyshia dressed slowly, looking at her body in the mirror all the while. Even though she carried small, her pregnancy was still noticeable. She rubbed her stomach ever so gently in a circular motion. She had long gotten over the guilt of putting her present circumstances in jeopardy and assured herself that this was her fate. She no longer had any options; it was get Clyde out of jail—or die trying.
Fully dressed in all black, which matched both the occasion and her mood, she felt the color would signify that this was their day of reckoning—a point of no return. She wore her black leather coat, black leather skirt, and high-heeled, knee-high black leather boots. She looked once again in the mirror—she was ready!
She waited until she could get to a pay phone to call Mike. She was about to commit a crime and didn’t want Mike to be implicated by being the last person she’d made contact with before the shit went down.
“Hello?” said the man, who had obviously just awakened.
“Hello, Mike, this is Clyde’s people,” Keyshia said.
More alert, he said, “Hey, hey, I been waiting on your call. Everything is in place and ready to go. I’m on the job personally to hand you off them two sandwiches so you can eat. What time you gonna be there so my girl and me can meet you?”
“I’m getting there first thing.”
“Cool, just tell me what you wearing so we recognize you.”
“Black leather from head to toe.”
“Okay, ma. I got you!” And he hung up.
Keyshia stood on the corner and checked the time. She was still nearly two and a half hours early. She turned and looked across the street at the diner. The baby was moving and turning violently; it was hungry because she hadn’t eaten anything but crackers for three days. She rubbed her stomach and decided to go to the diner and give the baby a hearty breakfast, then head downtown.
When Keyshia arrived, the line into the courthouse was already starting to form, so she fell in with the rest of the blacks and Puerto Ricans who either had an appearance before the judge that day or were there to support their incarcerated loved ones.
By the time Keyshia made it to the fourth floor, she was beginning to feel dizzy. As soon as she got off the elevator, she ran to the bathroom, clutching her stomach, and then keeled over in pain. She finally reached the bathroom and ran into the nearest stall, where she threw up the morning’s breakfast. She panted heavily as she fought to regain her composure when she heard a voice call her name: “Keyshia, you all right?” It was a Spanish girl about her age with a sympathetic expression on her face. Keyshia wiped the bile from her mouth and nose with her sleeve and nodded.
“I’m Lucy, Mike’s girlfriend. He sent me in here to see if you was okay.” Still on her knees, Keyshia nodded. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was not okay, so Lucy offered her a hand.
“Let me help you get on your feet.”
On her feet, Keyshia nodded and said, “Thanks a lot.”
In full view, Lucy looked Keyshia over and knew, even through her coat, that Keyshia was pregnant, but she remained silent. She snatched a paper towel from the wall dispenser and wet it with cold water and said, “Here, wipe you face and mouth with this. You’ll feel better.” Keyshia wiped her mouth and face, and Lucy handed her a fresh wet paper towel.
“Now wipe this over your forehead and the back of your neck.” She did. Lucy smiled and said, “See, you looking better already.” Keyshia thanked her. Lucy smiled and asked, “You sure you okay?”
Keyshia stood up straight and said. “Yeah, I’m good now, thanks.”
Lucy turned around and asked, “You with Clyde, right?”
Keyshia nodded, and Lucy handed her a Louis Vuitton shoulder bag. “Mike told me to give this to you. You know what it is, right?” Keyshia nodded.
“The two sandwiches already got everything on it. There’s a strap that come with it so you won’t be detected. He told me to help you put it on.” Keyshia was somewhat confused, and Lucy smiled and said, “Don’t worry, sister, I got you covered.” She led Keyshia into the stall and closed the door behind them and helped Keyshia take off her coat. After she secured the shoulder harness on Keyshia, she placed both handguns in them.
“You make sure you practice pulling them out because it can be a little stiff at first,” Lucy warned her. Keyshia crossed both her arms and pulled out the weapons. It felt a little jerky to her at first, but as she practiced it became easier. Lucy helped her put on her coat again, and they exited the stall. The girl inspected Keyshia one final time and smiled. “Perfect, you don’t even look like you carrying.” Keyshia looked in the tiny mirror and agreed. They locked eyes, and Lucy gave her a long hug.
“Be safe, sister,” she said.
Keyshia took a deep breath and nodded reassuringly. “I will, I will. Tell Mike I said thank you.” Lucy forced a smile and said that she would and exited the bathroom.
The courtroom was nearly empty when Keyshia entered it. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she made her way to the second row on the right. As she sat waiting for what seemed like an eternity, she tapped her arms on the weapons that lay securely across her ribs for a sense of security.
After a long wait, the courtroom started coming alive as stone-faced court officers, court clerks, and aides busied themselves shuffling paperwork in preparation for the case at hand. Keyshia studied them all, but her main focus was on the two armed court officers who stood between her and her man. The district attorney and Clyde’s court-appointed lawyer entered the courtroom.
Minutes later, the courtroom chamber door opened and in walked Clyde followed by a court officer who led him to his chair. A huge smile came to his face when he spotted Keyshia. Keyshia smiled back and noticed that today he had on a brand-new blue pin-striped suit and a fresh haircut. She marveled at how different he looked from the first time she’d seen him in court. She figured that Ceasar must have somehow got him the suit. Keyshia continued to make eye contact with Clyde, who smiled gleefully as he sat next to his lawyer. She stared at his face and watched him mouth, “Are you ready?” She nodded. She watched Clyde’s eyes search the courtroom; she knew he was looking for Ceasar, who had yet to arrive.
Suddenly, the judge entered and the court officer barked for the courtroom to rise. The judge moved quickly toward his seat and waved them off to continue sitting down. Once the judge was in his seat, he asked the bailiff if the jury was ready.
“Yes, Your Honor,” said the bailiff.
The judge nodded. “Bring them in.”
The jurors filed into the courtroom and went to their seats. Keyshia watched Clyde stare at them all as if he were reading their thoughts, and when he turned to Keyshia he looked concerned.
The judge welcomed the jurors and explain
ed to them the process of deliberation and coming to a verdict. After he was satisfied they understood, he dismissed them and reminded them that they had to come to a unanimous decision. They then followed the court officer to the jurors’ room.
Keyshia sat on the hard courtroom bench for nearly three hours and began to grow sicker by the minute. The pregnancy and anxiety from the trial had taken their toll on her. At moments she felt as if she would pass out in the hot, unventilated courtroom as sweat drenched the inside of her leather outfit. But nothing was worse than the bile that kept rising in her esophagus, causing her to run to the bathroom and throw up painfully. She prayed for the jurors to come to the right decision quickly.
Just as she felt she would pass out, the court officer yelled, “Court come to order. The Honorable David N. Klein, presiding. ” The judge came out of his chambers holding a thick folder and took his place on the bench. Keyshia didn’t even bother to rise. The judge cleared his throat and removed a piece of paper from the folder and looked it over. He stared down from his throne and asked, “Where is the defendant?”
One of his officers yelled, “The defendant is coming in now, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded and continued shuffling through the papers before him. Finally, Clyde came through the door with the burly officer right behind him.
Keyshia came alert as the door opened and one by one the jurors began to file in. She watched every juror look straight ahead without so much as a glance in Clyde’s direction—this was bad.
Now satisfied that everyone was in place, the judge nodded to the stenographer, who commenced typing. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it is my understanding that you have finished deliberating and are ready to render a decision.” Keyshia noticed the DA was jovial and alert and that Clyde’s lawyer was much more somber. She suddenly remembered him mentioning to her that the longer a jury deliberated, the better the chance the defendant had.
She began to hyperventilate and suddenly got sick in the worst way. She felt a sharp, stabbing pain in the pit of her stomach as bitter foam rose in her throat. In an instant, she was on her feet, holding her hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting on the floor and seats. Her prompt exit caused all eyes to shift in her direction, including the three court officers who now stood strategically behind Clyde and his lawyer. Clyde sat bewildered as he watched Keyshia’s retreating back exit the courtroom.
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