by Derrick Jaxn
"No, it's not."
"Yeah, like you know."
"Actually I do. I got kicked out the house a while back. My parents, they didn't want anything to do with me so I had to leave."
He looked at me disarmingly. "So you know yo mama, and she still did that?"
We came up on a red light out on the outskirts, so I was able to stop long enough to look him in the eye. "Yeah. She did. But people make mistakes, and that doesn't have to be the way the story ends. Same with you. I know you got some stuff going on, but you're also young with plenty time to get yourself together."
"I don't know, bruh. Sometimes, I wonder if it's even worth it. I ain't never been no school boy. Them teachers don't care 'bout us either. Not me anyway."
"It ain't about them. If you sell drugs then you gotta be able to count. Division, multiplication, even algebra would come easy to you. Why not use that to go into engineering or something instead? Make some legit paper. Ain't no future in this street life, dude. It's called the trap for a reason. Because all it does is trap people like you into thinking that the cheese can be yours without getting caught up."
"Well, life is too short, and I think I like it that way. I don't know why anybody in my shoes would want a future in the first place."
"Because your grandmother walks every day to a job that won't pay her enough so she can finally rest. That's why. Get something that you can do long-term so that she can finally relax the way she deserves to." I looked at him, making eye contact again. I was finally getting through to him.
I continued, "Guns around the house, not speaking up to tell her what's on your mind, staying out in the streets all night. You gotta chill out with that."
"I can't help the staying out part. My stomach empty, my pockets empty, and I'm sleepy; that's two against one. Sleep loses. We gotta eat. You can't pay for food with eight hours of rest. It just don't work like that, bruh."
Blue flashing lights came on behind us.
I checked my speed. It was on cruise control going just two miles over the speed limit. I looked down at both of our seatbelts and they were on securely and visibly. I didn't know why I was getting pulled over.
I slowed down and veered off to the curb, assuming it was some kind of mistake.
I turned and looked at him. "You got anything on you?"
"Nah, I left that at the crib."
"You sure?"
“Yeah, I'm sure."
"Okay, cool. Don't say anything, you hear me? Let me do the talking."
I looked in my side mirror and saw a cop getting out the car walking cautiously up to the car, another one on the other side.
He motioned for me to roll down my window.
"Where you boys headed tonight?" the officer asked, flashing his light into my eyes and then into the back seat.
"Officer, what's your reason for stopping me?"
"I asked you a question, son. Where you two headed?"
"Officer, I don't have to answer that." I said affirmatively. I was no expert, but I knew the basics to my rights when getting pulled over.
"Oh, okay, I see what you're tryna do here. Well, looks like your tail light was out so I'm gonna need to see a license, proof of insurance, and registration there."
I reached for the glove compartment and the officer standing on the passenger side reached for his gun. I froze. Completely still. My heart pounding now.
This was a hostile situation.
"Oh, don't worry, he's just bein' cautious. Don't tell me ya scared now?" the officer laughed. He had an old western type of accent, and his voice was as cold as ice.
Auntie's grandson was sitting in his seat, motionless and staring forward as I'd told him to do with his hands visible.
I went on slowly to get the insurance out of the glove compartment as the officers shined their lights on it to peek inside.
"Here you go. I had no idea my headlight was out. I can get that fixed no problem--"
"Uh, not so fast. I'm gon' need licenses from both of ya. That includes your little buddy."
I looked over at him. "You got ID?"
"Nah, I don't. I'm only fifteen,"
I turned and looked at the officer. "He's only fifteen, he doesn't have a license."
"Fifteen huh? Don't look fifteen to me, the officer said directing his flashlight at him now. "As a matter of fact, he looks quite familiar." He directed the light into his eyes until he started squinting. "I've seen you before. Lamarcus. Lamarcus Wright. That you?"
He kept quiet, not making eye contact with the officer.
"Yeah, that's you. I locked your mama up many a times, I wouldn't forget that face anywhere. I'm gon' need you two to step out of the car."
"For what reason?"
"Now, you're obstructing justice. I said, step out of the car and do it slowly with your hands in plain sight."
Lamarcus and I followed instruction. A few cars passed by, and I could feel the wind from them as I opened the door.
The first officer yelled out to the other, "You take care of these two. I'm gonna see what we find in here."
We walked over towards the flashing police lights of the first cruiser. "Put your hands against the hood of the car and spread your legs," the second officer said.
I looked back at the first policeman who was tearing everything out of my car and tossing it on the ground. My CDs, my books, my water bottles. Everything.
After an overly thorough patting down, the first officer came back over to us.
"What'd you find, Rick?" he asked his partner.
"They're clean."
I exhaled, relieved Lamarcus wasn't lying after all.
"Wait, I don't know about this one." The cop walked back over to Lamarcus and started patting him again.
Lamarcus looked at me confused, and I looked back at him the same way.
The policeman skipped the normal pat-down and went straight for his groin area.
"Yo, chill, man! That's my balls you grabbing--"
"Shut up! I didn't tell you to open your damn mouth."
The second officer began looking uncomfortable.
"Come on, Danny. I just checked his pockets. The kid is clean."
"Well, I don't think I like his attitude. Probably best he have some time in jail to think about it." He slammed his head into the hood of the car pushing the palm of his hand into Lamarcus' cheeks.
I moved to help him and the other second officer drew his gun and pointed it at me.
I stopped without even taking a step. "Officer, what you're doing is wrong." My voice trembling was trembling. I was officially scared and I felt helpless.
Lamarcus yelled, "Ay man, don't let them do this to me! Tell them to let me go!"
"Stop resisting arrest you little piece of--"
"Please," I pleaded this time. "He's just a kid."
"Don't make me fear for my safety," he said as he ignored me, pulling his gun from his holster and putting it to LaMarcus' temple. "Because you know what comes after that--"
"All right, that's enough Danny. Knock it off. Let's get them to the station. Ain't got all night. Martha's gonna be bitching if I miss dinner again."
The policeman smiled with a devilish squint in his eye as he let off of Lamarcus' face and put hand cuffs on him before proceeding to me. The cuffs were so tight they cut off my circulation, but I knew better than to say anything about it. It was only going to make things worse.
The ride down to the station was surreal. I was in the back of a cop car for the first time in my life, with no real reason as to why. I'd only seen things like this in movies, heard about them happening during the 60's, but couldn't believe it was really happening to me.
I didn't know how I was going to explain this to Auntie. How this would affect me graduating? How'd I prepare myself to tell Danielle? I was feeling overwhelmed with fear and anxiety at the thought.
We pulled up to the police station, then went through the booking process. Finger-prints, mug shots, recorded interview.
The charges, according to the police report, were on suspicion of marijuana, obstruction of justice, resisting arrest, and yelling obscenities at an officer. None of it too serious but enough to keep us in a holding cell until someone came and posted bond that was set at $500 for Lamarcus since he was a minor, and $1000 for me.
I could barely look Lamarcus in the eye, knowing I'd gotten him into this mess. How could I preach about walking a straight line, meanwhile getting him arrested? Some mentor I was.
"You get one phone call. Make it count," the officer said, shoving the phone into my chest.
I didn't have many choices. Momma was hours away and would probably use up most of the time trying to get a grasp on how I got there as opposed to actually coming to get me. Ronnie and I were cool, but until I got this figured out, he didn't need to know about me being in trouble with the law.
Danielle was my best shot. Our last encounter was a bit rough, and since then, her guard had been back up pretty high. She didn't carry on small talk very long and was making it clear that if I was going to get back into good graces with her, it was going to take some work. Which was cool. I've always worked for what I wanted, and I wanted her more than anything. But I needed her, and she'd always come through for me before.
I began dialing her number, getting increasingly nervous as to whether or not she was going to pick up.
One ring and a half later, I got my answer. It cut short to voicemail, which meant she was ignoring me. On purpose.
"Hey, Danielle. It's me, Shawn. I'm guessing you're ignoring because this is a strange number but I'm down at the police station. I got in some trouble but I need you to come get me. My bond is at $1000. I got most of that in my apartment. I can pay you back when we get there but just come get me, please."
I hung up the phone, looking at the desk clerk smacking her gum and shaking her head as if to confirm that my words were in vain. Like she'd heard that voice message a million times before and I was just another.
I went back to the holding cell, followed by Lamarcus. We sat there for a few minutes in dead silence. Me, trying to make sense of everything and I assumed he just had nothing to say to me. I didn't blame him.
"Thanks, bruh," Lamarcus mumbled.
"Look, I had no idea--"
"Nah, I ain't tryna be funny. I mean it. I 'preciate you." He looked up at me so I could see the seriousness in his eyes. "Not too many folks care about us out here. But you do."
"Don't thank me. I didn't do nothin' but get us in trouble."
"I done been in trouble befo'. Ain't the end of the world."
"It's not the world I'm worried about."
"Well, Grandma always told me, 'What God bless, no man can curse.' I don't always know where her faith come from, but if it's any truth to it, we gon' be straight, bruh. Just wait."
I looked at him, seeing for the first time a hopeful look on his face. It confused me because this was arguably one of the worst nights of my life, but here he was speaking to me about faith. Either he knew something I didn't or I really underestimated a normal day for him.
Auntie came about ten minutes later to pick him up. I didn't get to see or speak to her since she was outside, but I was hoping Lamarcus would be somewhat tactful in his recount of the night's events to allow me a chance to be heard out later on.
I tried to get comfortable on the concrete slab they called a bed, wondering if Danielle was coming that night or in the morning, or at all. It wasn't like her to ignore my call, no matter what she was doing.
I knew I was in the dog-house, but damn. This was an emergency.
I sat there, back against the wall with my eyes growing increasingly sore from being open so long. Somehow I managed to fall asleep despite the blaring light that never turned off.
"Hey, wake up. Fletcher. Someone's here to get you," an officer said, nudging me on the shoulder with his baton.
I woke up, forgetting I'd been in the cell altogether, more so feeling like it was just one really bad dream.
Danielle finally got my message. Better late than never I suppose. I walked out of the cell to grab my things and put my shoes back on that they'd made me take off.
Walking outside, I was looking for Danielle's car and didn't see it anywhere. Just a silver Infinity, out waiting by the curb, still with the engine on. The windows were tinted so I couldn't see inside and wasn't about to walk up to a strange car. Maybe Danielle had to circle around and was about to come back.
Next thing I know, the passenger side window rolled down and Chantel was leaning over and smiling at me.
"You gonna hop in, or would you rather go back to your suite?"
Chapter 9
This Tea, Though...
"Oh, don't look so happy to see me. You're only getting out of jail," she said cynically on the drive back."
"It's not even like that. I told you I appreciate this, but I'm curious on how you knew I was there."
"Well, I thought I drove past you earlier getting pulled over, but there was another guy that didn't look like anyone you'd be with so I just figured it wasn't you. But when I drove by afterwards, I was able to see your car more closely. I called. You didn't answer your phone, like always, but I figured that this time you might actually be in some trouble. Went down to the station, and yup. They said you were in there."
"So you fronted a stack. For me? Just like that? Man...that's deep. Thanks again for it. I'll pay you back as soon as we get to the apartment."
"I spend that much on makeup. I can definitely spare that to get your freedom back. What happened in there anyway?"
She had this look on her face, like she just knew her cool points were piling on top of each other. I wasn't going to ruin her flow, but at the moment I was having mixed feelings. Glad to be out of that hell hole, but unable to escape the curiosity of what had Danielle so tied up that she couldn't come get me. Surely she got my message.
"I really don't wanna talk about it. Let's just get home so I can finally get some rest."
I leaned back in the seat ready to get home. It was almost three o'clock in the morning. Fortunately, it was a Saturday so there were no classes, but it didn't matter what day it was. After a night like that, the next day was going to be Saturday for me regardless.
Chantel followed me up to my door. It didn't hit me until I'd already started twisting my key to get in that maybe she was tired. Maybe she needed a place to crash. Damn sure couldn't tell her no. A part of me didn't want to.
"You want something to drink? Orange juice? Bottled water? Almond milk?" I asked her after shutting the door behind us.
"I'll take a water. Dasani, right?"
"Of course."
"Good. So, what happened with your little date you had the other night? I didn't mean to disturb that by the way. Don't want you to think I was tryna block," she said, looking around for feminine evidence to cross reference with my answer.
"Well, you did block," I saw her smirk as if she accomplished something. "But, the date was cool. We had fun before you showed up."
"You like her?"
"I don't think that's any of your business."
She put her hands up innocently. "Excuse me. My bad. A little sensitive. I understand, you've had a rough night."
I handed her the bottle of water and sat down on the couch beside her. My eyes were burning, my eyelids opening and closing almost manually with the effort it took to keep up small talk.
"I think I'm about to go to sleep, Chan. You tryna crash here or what?"
"Well, I wasn't going to invite myself but sure, if you're okay with that. I'd like to stay over."
"All right, I'll bring you out a cover and some--"
"But I will not be sleeping on this couch. I don't do couches."
That woke me up. Chantel was back at it, again.
"Okay, I'll take the couch. You can grab the bed."
"I think it's better if we both just take the bed. Shawn, look me in my eye and tell me you're not attracted to me."
&n
bsp; I looked away, trying to get my lie together. "Chantel, it's too late for this."
"You're single, aren't you?" she moved her head in the path of my sight to force eye contact.
My first thought was Danielle. How I was single, but not really. How I was spoken for emotionally but physically, alone as any other single man. But then again, I was tired of being alone. And I was, both physically and emotionally. And I was definitely tired of lying to myself trying to be convinced I wasn't.
"Yes, I am single."
"And I know you're an adult. So let's be adults and get in the bed, together. I can help you relax. You know you need it, and a part of you wants it too. Don't you?" She reached up and lightly massaged the tops of my shoulders.
My lying machine was out of service for the night. "Yeah. I do."
She smiled. We got up with her grabbing my hand, leading me into the bedroom.
I turned on the shower, taking off my clothes to give the water time to heat up. She came in and joined me.
She began wiggling out of her jeans as they scrunched down to her ankles and she stepped out of them. I kept undressing, not willing to miss any part of her show either.
My shower wasn't very large but allowed enough room for us both to fit with standing room only. The water poured over me, hitting my back. She grabbed a sponge from my drawer, almost already knowing exactly where to look for it, and began softly rubbing. I felt the suds dripping down my body and her off-hand holding me steady at my waist.
She used that hand to slide down to my dick to feel for a progress report, but not much was going on.
As if it was a challenge, she reached down between my thighs, massaging me gently, her perky breasts pressing against my back. It all felt amazing--her up against me and me shifting around in the palm of her hand. I kept scrubbing my body, not caring to stay in the shower much longer. If we were going to have sex, I didn't care for it to be in there. The water, the suds--too dangerous. Maybe it'd work in a movie or in some romance novel, but not in real life.