Richard awoke with a jolt. Boom! Boom! Boom! Someone was pounding on the door…no, someone was trying to bust the door down. Just before he heard the door crash to the floor, he heard a male’s voice yell, “D.E.A.!”
“Baby girl,” he said quietly, shaking Skinny, trying to wake her up.
“Richy, what’s wrong baby?”
“I’m going to jail. Crackers just kicked in the door. I ain’t got no more dope in here, right?”
“No, you took the rest the other day.” Her eyes welled with large tears.
“Put your hands up!” a man yelled from the doorway of their bedroom. Richard turned slowly to meet the man, keeping his hands visible. The task was practically impossible with Skinny hanging onto him for dear life.
“Man, don’t hurt my girl. She’s pregnant.” He tried to pry her fingers out of his flesh.
“Agent Allen, all of the other rooms are clear,” said another man entering the room.
“Get out of the bed slowly with your hands up, Mr. Gary,” the man who’d just been referred to as Agent Allen said.
“Man, I ain’t got nothing on me, so don’t shoot me,” Richard said, standing up slowly, still naked from the night before.
“Miss, can you put some clothes on so we can continue our search?” The new officer was trying not to stare.
“Man, do y’all have a search warrant to do this shit?” Richard grabbed his shorts from the floor, slowly, pulling them on as he spoke.
“What does this look like, Mr. Gary? Is this a warrant?” Agent Allen asked as he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, shoving it in Richard’s face. “Or just some shit I want to show you?” With Richard no longer naked, Agent Allen walked behind Richard and grabbed his wrists to cuff him.
Richard didn’t fight back. He knew it would only make the situation worse. “Man, just do what the fuck you do, a’ight?”
“Davis, look at all this fucking money,” one of the officers said from behind Richard. He was already bagging it up.
Richard belted out a laugh. “Better slow down on picking it up ‘cause some of it got nut on it,” he said, a smug smile on his face.
The officer stuck his tongue out and he looked as though he might vomit. He dropped the money back on the bed. “Fuck!” He pulled a pair of gloves from his shirt pocket and pulled them up over his large bony hands.
Agent Allen shoved Richard forward. “We’ll see how funny it is when you get to headquarters, Mr. Gary.”
“Man, fuck that.” Un-phased by Agent Allen’s threats, Richard smiled smugly. “What’s going on anyway? I ain’t done shit.”
“Really?” Agent Allen asked as he paced circles around Richard. “So how’d you get all this money?”
“From my Daddy, why?” Richard’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Well, where’s your father now?” came the voice of one of the officers behind him.
“What the--?” Richard tried to turn around, but Agent Allen yanked on the handcuffs, forcing him to face forward. “Fuck you, D.E.A.! You tell me!”
Richard could feel Agent Allen’s hot breath on the back of his neck as he leaned in to speak. “So you’re going to be a hard ass, right?”
Richard grinned. “Man, get my fucking lawyers.”
It took every ounce of self-control Agent Allen had to keep from punching Richard in the back of the head. He’d dealt with arrogant niggers like this his whole life. He shoved Richard forward again, still holding onto the handcuffs, and pushed him through the bedroom doorway. The forceful action gave the angry officer a temporary release of steam.
As they rounded the hallway, Richard could see Skinny. A female officer had her almost out the front door. “I love you, Richy!” she yelled back through streams of tears.
“Stop crying, baby! We ain’t done shit!” he yelled back, hoping she understood the message behind it. Skinny had always had his back. He was certain that she’d have it now.
***
Agent Jones sat down in the metal folding chair across from Richard. In his hands, he held a manila folder. “Ok, Mr. Gary,” he said, setting the folder down on the table, folding his hands over it, “I’m going to ask you some questions. We need answers on where you got all that money from.” The agent opened the folder and pretended to thumb through its contents. “We know you’re a drug dealer, so if you tell us what we want to know, we might get the D.A. to cut you some slack.” He peered up at Richard over the top of the folder. “You know, one hand washes the other?”
Richard sat back in his chair.“Only hand I’m washing is my lawyers.” A complacent smile spread across his face. “So y’all can just kiss my ass.”
Agent Jones closed the manila folder again, and set it back on the table.” Well, you think it’s funny now,” refolding his hands, “but when they throw the book at you, you’ll be wishing you listened to me and gave us some answers.”He tried to keep his tone neutral and his expression detached, but inside, he hoped Richard would talk. Their department needed this bust, and he needed the promotion that this bust would result in.
A clicking sound came from the white door across the room, announcing the entrance of another officer with a stack of papers in his hands. “Okay, this is what we’ve got on Mr. Gary.” The short, stubby agent placed the new piles if paper on top of the thin manila folder.
Unmoved by their tactics, Richard simply grinned. “I can look at that and tell y’all just pulling some bullshit.” His smug grin gave way to a look of indignation. “Y’all just trying to fuck me over, but I tell you what, when I finish this sentence, y’all can ask the walls in here all the questions ‘cause I don’t know shit, and I ain’t saying shit ‘til I get my lawyer present.”
“You know, we got your girl down the hall, singing like she’s trying to win an award,” the standing officer said, crossing his arms across his chest.
Richard dismissed the comment, without a word and stared at the white wall in front of him. He knew they were lying, trying to rile him, scare him into a confession before his lawyer arrived. He carried that same steely gaze for the next eight hours as he endured twelve line-up books and questions about each page turned.
“Well, Mr. Gary,” the director said as he loomed next to Richard’s chair. “I see you want to spend the rest of your youth years in prison.”He placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder. Richard stiffened under the director’s firm grip. ”I’m not going to let my agents bust their brains trying to help you. Agent Jones, Agent Davis, let’s go.” Without another word, they left Richard alone in the white concrete room.
Safely on the other side of the door, the director turned to Agent Davis and Agent Jones, “My office. Now.”
Jones and Davis shared a look of trepidation. It was a look of shared understanding. Once they stepped into the director’s office, the yelling would commence. They were correct in their assumption.
The director’s face felt as though it were on fire. As he turned towards the bumbling idiots in his office, he clenched his teeth, trying to keep the volume of his voice under control. “What were you thinking going over my head, getting a warrant for that low-life son-of-a-bitch?”
Clearing his throat, Agent Davis tried to answer. “A reliable C.I. gave us…”
“I don’t see any incriminating evidence yet.” The director said, his voice now escalating as he cut Davis off. “The D.A.’s office says they’re not getting involved in this, which means no case.” He was now screaming; his face was a deep shade of red. “That’s wasted man hours, wasted resources…”
A knock at the door cut him off.
“Who is it?” he bellowed, bludgeoning the door with his words.
Afraid to enter all the way into the room, the officer who had just taken Skinny home peeked his head through the door. “Mr. Gary would like to speak with you, sir.”
“This better be good,” the director said, glaring at Davis and Jones. “Otherwise, it’s back to desk work.”
“But sir…” Jones called after the director, who was already several feet away.
“But nothing!” the director yelled over his shoulder, stomping towards the interrogation room. He entered the room to find Richard leaning back in his chair. “Mr. Gary,” his tone almost sing-songish as he crossed the room to sit down. “I see you made up your mind.”
“No need to sit down, director” Richard’s expression remained bland, “I just want to know one thing.”
“What’s that, Mr. Gary?” The director shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Do y’all give out rewards,” Richard asked as an amused grin crossing his face. “’Cause I think y’all should give my girl a Grammy for what she told y’all. She deserves one, right?”
Bursts of laughter filled the room, causing the director’s ears to ring and his blood pressure to rise. Without a word, he stormed out of the interrogation room and down the hall; Richard’s laughter following him all the way back to his office. Slamming his office door to shut to laughter out, he looked to Davis and Jones still standing there, waiting to hear their fates. “Desks!” he yelled.
Davis and Jones looked down at the floor in shame, but neither one dared to utter a word.
Irritated that they were still standing there, the director screamed, “Get out!” He slammed his door shut again as the two flustered men scrambled out of the room.
With the bumbling idiots now gone, the director picked up his phone, “Yeah, can you start a tax evasion case for me?...Yeah?...Thanks.”
***
“Sis, they came and got Richy,” Skinny cried into Alicia’s ear over the phone.
“Who got Rich? What you talking ‘bout?” Alicia asked, voice weak with worry.
“The D.E.A., sis. The fucking D.E.A..” Skinny’s body now sobbed uncontrollably. Tears ran down her cheeks. As they dripped down her chin, they left large, salty drops on her belly.
“Okay, okay. It’s gone be a’ight Skinny. Just chill.” Alicia concentrated on consoling Skinny while simultaneously trying to hide her own worry. Skinny was pregnant. She didn’t need to be this upset. “Do he got a bond?”
“I said the D.E.A.,” Skinny snapped. “If he got a bond, that shit gone be high as fuck!”
Taking a deep breath, Alicia reminded herself of Skinny’s very pregnant condition and tried, again, to calm her down. “Well, what happened? What he charged with?”
“I don’t know, but when they kicked the door down, they took all the money,” Skinny sobbed into the phone.
“How much?”
“All of it. Every dollar that was in the safe.” Skinny hadn’t fully understood Alicia’s question.
“How much Skinny?” Alicia asked again.
“Eighty-two thousand, twenty dollars.”
The wheels started to turn in Alicia’s head. She racked her brain for any possible charges they might be holding him on. Coming up empty, she committed to deciding what to do next.
“Where you at?” Alicia asked. “I’m coming to get you.”
“I’m at my grandma’s house.” Skinny’s sobs were a little quieter now, but her belly still bounced with each gasp for fresh air.
“A’ight. I’m on my way.” Before hanging up the phone, Alicia ordered, “Just chill out and stop crying.” She figured the command was useless, but she could at least try.
Alicia pulled up in less than ten minutes. Without even knocking, she walked through the door-less entryway to the house. As she made her way into the living room, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She found Skinny in a sobbing mess, phone clutched in her hand as if it were a lifeline. She stepped in front of Skinny and gave her a loving smile. “Girl, come on.” She shoved the worry from her demeanor and replaced it with one of motherly authority. “Let’s go.”
“Where we going?” Skinny asked between sobs.
Taking Skinny’s hands in to hers, Alicia pulled Skinny up from the couch. “Out.”
***
Exhausted from the interrogation and booking process, Richard checked in on the second floor. As he handed over his personal belongings, a man white button down shirt and black slacks placed Richard’s things into Ziploc bags labeled with his booking number. The deposit of each item came with an increasing awareness that the man behind the counter was examining him closely. Wondering what his problem was, Richard stopped and stared at the man.
Placing Richard’s wallet in the bag, the man held his eye contact. “Ay jit, I think I know you from somewhere.” Decayed teeth rested behind the man’s lips as they curled into a smile.
Richard’s left eyebrow raised and his right furrowed as a disgusted frown crossed his lips, “I don’t think you know me homeboy, ‘cause you wouldn’t be calling me a jit.” He placed his cell phone on the counter.
As he entered the cell area, he heard the house man call, “A’ight! Y’all niggas got to get y’all asses in the shower.” Standing in front of the now loosely assembled group of new inmates, his hands directed them into a straight line in front of the shower house.
Ignoring the command, Richard walked over to the small call area and picked up the phone. “I ain’t taking shit.”
The house man puffed his chest as Richard’s comment travelled across the room to his ears.“Who said that shit?” his voice boomed as he walked towards the front of the cell.
Setting the phone down, Richard turned to face the house man. “Me nigga.” His chest puffed, matching the menacing stance of the house man as he closed the distance between the two of them. Richard wasn’t going to spend his time locked up as someone else’s bitch. He figured this time was as good as any to exercise his authority.
Now close enough to see the offender’s face clearly, the house man smiled. “Oh shit! Rich Kid!” He gave Richard daps. “What the fuck you doing locked up, nigga?”
“Damn, Tim! You ain’t get out this shit yet?” Richard asked.
“Naw, man.” Tim shook his head and a frown wrinkled the lines around his mouth. “I think I’m gone get out next month, if this lawyer do his fucking job.”
Richard nodded in response. “Ay let me get done talking to my people,” he said, holding the phone up for Tim to see.
“A’ight. I gone make these niggas get in the shower.” Tim motioned behind him with his thumb towards the other new inmates. “I’ll be back when you get off the phone.” He faced the group again, yelling, “Why ain’t nobody in the shower yet?”
Turning back towards the phone area, Richard punched the zero button and gave the operator Skinny’s cell phone number.
“This number is collect call restricted,” the operator responded.
Richard held pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it as though the operator had somehow offended him. “Man, they fuckin’ need to put collect on the phone!” he said, slamming the phone back onto its cradle. He sat there, staring at the phone, as if he could will it to ring.
“Ay Rich Kid, you done with the phone?” Tim asked as he walked up behind Richard.
“Yeah,” Richard responded as he turned to face Tim. “What’s good, nigga?”
“I got a bed back here if you want it.” Again, Tim used his thumb to motion behind him.
Following Tim to his new “home,” a small cell with a bunk, a toilet and a sink, Richard heard his name being called from the front of the floor. He reached for Tim, without making contact, to signal that he needed to go see what the correction officer needed. “I’ll be right back.”
“What’s up C.O.?” Richard asked as he approached the small desk. A tall, broad shouldered sat with his feet propped up on the desk. A newspaper kept Richard from seeing the officer’s face.
“Here are your sheets,” the officer answered, still reading his newspaper handing Richard a clean set of sheets.
Taking them, Richard gave a half-smile. “Bet that up, man.”
Once back to the place where Tim stood, Richard looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Ay, Tim, I need a pill, bro. Who got it?”
Tim shook his head, his look somber. “Ain’t nobody got no pills.” Tim pointed straight up with his index finger. “They got some weed up on the sixth floor though.”
“They got any coke to put on it?” Richard’s face looked as though he’d taken a bite of a lemon. “You know I don’t smoke A.P.”
“I’ll see what I can do man,” Tim said as he patted the bed he’d set aside for Richard. The wheels already turning in his head, Tim walked away without another word. He knew that getting on Richard’s good side could pave the way for his future, both behind bars and when he got out. Tim had heard the stories; he knew this young nigga had already made a name on the streets. Richard was ruthless, but he took care of his Family. Even more admirable was the fact that he was fair to the dealers that bought directly from him. He purchased the drugs and was willing to let those who were worthy of trust ride on credit. Already committed to getting Richard anything he needed during his stay, Tim considered how he could use his authority on the floor to meet Richard’s first request.
***
Together, Alicia and Skinny walked to the car. Using her cell phone, Skinny called the jail for the fourth time since leaving her interrogation with the D.E.A.. Nothing. Driving to Gina’s house, she called again. Still nothing. Sitting at Gina’s kitchen table, she tried again.
“Skinny,” Gina said. “You need to stop calling. They not going to tell you when he gets there ‘cause you keep getting on their nerves calling every five minutes.”
“Yes, I would like to know if you have a Richard A. Gary in custody,” Skinny spoke into her cell phone, ignoring Gina’s comment.
“Yes, we’ve got him here.”
Excited to finally have some sort of news on Richard, Skinny smiled as she stood quickly. The motion made it feel as if the room was moving. Her smile faded and she slowly sat back down, beads of sweat developing on her brow.
“Does he have a bond?” she asked, still trying to fight off the dizzy spell. While she still felt as though the room was swaying beneath her feet, the sensation seemed to have dissipated a bit now that she was sitting down. A small twinge of panic crept up, but she excused the feelings quickly as the correction officer spoke again.
“I don’t know, but when he checks in his property, he’ll be able to call you.” The correction officer sounded a bit bored with his job, but was polite, nonetheless. Maybe his stay wouldn’t be so bad, Skinny thought to herself.
“Okay, thank you.” Her smile returned at the thought of being able to talk to Richard. “But can you tell him to call this number please?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Skinny could hear the C.O. shifting through papers, looking for a pen, she guessed. “What’s the number?” he finally asked.
“It’s seven, eight, six, seven, five, three, six, one, four, two.” After a moment of no response, Skinny asked, “You got it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” answered the correction officer. “I’ll give it to him now.”
Gina and Alicia had waited eagerly while Skinny spoke to the correction officer. The had hung on her every word, and now that the call was over, they wasted no time in asking, “So? What’d they charge him with?” Alicia was the first to speak. “Does he have a bond?” Gina spoke up next.
“They ain’t told me yet.” A cloud of sadness swept over her face, but only for a moment. “But they gave him the number to call here.” Again, her expression brightened at the thought of hearing Richard’s voice.
“Okay then.” Gina nodded. The motion had a duel meaning; it was one of understanding but also one that outwardly affirmed her inner decision. She knew that being the oldest of the three women, and the oldest of the remaining family members, it was officially her responsibility to take charge of the situation. “Let’s just wait here on the call ‘cause we can’t do nothing ‘til he tell us what to do.”
Trying desperately to make small talk, the three women sat in Gina’s kitchen, but they were failing miserably at it. The apprehensiveness of the small gathering was thick, palpable. Gina tapped a pencil on the table. Alicia crossed between pacing the room and sitting down in a chair next to Skinny, who was flopping her foot nervously.
Every so often, Skinny took a trip to the restroom. Waves of dizziness kept creeping up on her. Initially, she attributed the spells to stress, but then she reconsidered the idea when she realized that she hadn’t eaten all day. The latter was easier to solve than the former, so she asked Gina for some cheese and crackers. With that and a little bit of water, she started to feel better. That gave her a small sense of relief. At least the baby’s okay.
Finally, the phone rang. Gina answered it. “Hello? Who would you like to speak to?” She knew that Richard would have only a few minutes to talk and they didn’t have time to waste. They needed a plan.
“What kind of birds don’t fly?” came through from the other side of the line.
“Boy, you crazy!” A small giggle escaped her lips. “What they trying to charge you with?”
“First they come talking ‘bout drugs and shit, but when I get here, I find out that I got a tax evasion charge.” Richard pulled on the phone cord, watching it spring back into place. “I thought only rich white people got shit like that.”
Innately knowing that her time on the phone was up, Gina turned towards Skinny, and held the phone out. Skinny needed to talk to his voice more than anyone. While she did appear to be doing a bit better, Gina had noticed that the crease in Skinny’s forehead had remained constant since shortly after hanging up the phone with the correction officer.
As if affirming Gina’s thoughts, Skinny’s face now lit up. Smiling from ear to ear, she took the phone and gave Gina a kiss on the cheek.
“Richy, baby.” Skinny held the phone tightly with both hands as she spoke, as if her very life depended on the voice coming through on the other line. “What did they charge you with?”
“Fucking tax evasion.”
Skinny’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How they gone charge you with that?”
“Look, baby,” Richard stopped the conversation before it could wander. He had business to take care of. “I ain’t got that much time on the phone. So here’s what I need you to do.”
“Hold on, baby,” Skinny turned her attention towards Alicia. “Sis, can you hand me that?” She pointed towards the pencil Gina had been tapping nervously just moments before.
After giving her a few moments ready, Richard explained his plan. He needed her to put money on his books. That would help him with the lawyer. To get the money, she would need to go to E’s house.
“From E, baby?” she asked. She felt uncomfortable telling their business to anyone that wasn’t a part of their immediate family, even if it was to help get Richard out of jail. “No, I ain’t telling nobody but your sisters.”
“Baby girl, he good. You can let him know,” Richard reassured. “That’s my brother from another mother. You know that.”
Skinny admitted to herself that she did, in fact, know that. Sighing quietly, she moved on to her next question. “How much money you want me to bring to you?”
“Get three hundred from E and bring that to put on my books here.” He paused for a moment so she could write the information down. “Then tell him to give the lawyer the money he needs to get started on my case.” Sobbing filled Richard’s ear.
“Okay, baby.” Skinny gripped the phone tighter, if that were even possible. Her sobs came back full force and they filled Richard’s ear on the other line. Between short gasps of air, she spoke. “I love you...more than…you know.”
An aching so strong that it threatened to cut off his voice completely grew in Richard’s chest. “Baby girl,” he spoke softly, hoping to wrap up the conversation before her sobs could paralyze him completely. “You got to go put some collect on your cell phone. That way I can call you, a’ight?” Her sniffles grew louder. “I love you too, and stop crying, baby. It’s gone be a’ight.”
“Okay, baby,” she replied, trying to calm her sobs, “I’m gone do everything you asked right now.”
“You can do everything else, but wait until morning to holla at the lawyer,” he replied.
“A’ight baby.” She used the heel of her hand to wipe streams of tears from her cheeks and chin.
“I love you, baby. Tell sis and them I love them too.” She’d understood his instructions, and she would carry them out, he knew. Without waiting for her reply, he pulled the phone away from his ear, certain that one more sob would be enough to crumble his strong façade. His muscles tensed as he gently placed the phone onto the cradle. Disconnecting from her, in that very moment, was the hardest things he had ever done.
Skinny held the phone to her ear and waited for the click. The moment she heard it, the sobs returned, even fiercer than they had been before.