Mama Dearest (34 page)

Derrick snapped, “Madison, this isn’t about you and don’t convict Yancey before she’s had a trial. I’m sure this is some mistake.”

As she suspected, her father was still in love with his old college flame. “Like I said, Daddy, maybe you don’t know Yancey Braxton like you think you do.”

Part
Three

I found myself lying on a ratty, nasty iron cot in an eight-by-ten-foot jail cell, not believing all that had happened to me today. As I looked up at the mattress above, waiting for lights out, I tried to stop myself from crying. This had been the worst day of my life.

After I explained to my stupid public defender I wasn’t able to post my own bond, I was told I would have to be processed and thrown in jail. A pair of corrections officers came over to the courthouse and marched me and some other women in handcuffs back to the jail across the street.

There, the most humiliating things were done to me. We were corralled like livestock and then marched down a hallway.

“Okay, take off your clothes,” a very large woman, who looked more like a man, said.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Take off your clothes. All of you!” Almost six feet tall, the woman wore a dark blue uniform and had hair braided back in corn-rows.

The other dozen female inmates started disrobing quickly. I still hesitated, folding my arms over my breasts.

The officer walked over to me, smiling meanly. Her name tag read Jenkins. She had skin the color of a shelled almond. She could’ve been pretty, I thought, with a little eyeliner, maybe some lip gloss. But she wore nothing, so she looked like a man.

“Problem, missy?”

“I’m not accustomed to just stripping off my clothes in front of people like this.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Miss Thang is shy,” the officer said over her shoulder to another mannish female officer, standing in a corner.

“If you could point me to a private dressing room, I could—”

All the officers and even some of the new inmates burst out laughing.

“Ain’t no dressing rooms! This ain’t The Gap, missy. Take off all your shit, or I’ll take it off for you,” Officer Jenkins said, looking me up and down. She licked her lips. “And I might just enjoy that.”

Moments later, standing naked, the other twelve women and I were strip-searched. We were told to squat and cough. We had to open our mouths, and move our tongues around, so the officers could make sure we weren’t hiding anything there.

After that degrading session, we were given back our clothes, and each of us was given an inmate number.

This was when it really started to hit home that this was real. I felt like I wanted to cry, and I did my best to hold back my tears.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped, startled.

“It’s okay,” the woman standing behind me said. She was a thin, petite, mildly attractive Latino woman. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

“And how do you know?”

“’Cause I been through this more times than I wanna admit,” the
woman said with a Puerto Rican accent. She held out her hand. “Marcella.”

“Yancey,” I said, shaking her hand. “What happens next?”

“We’re going to be separated now, depending on what you’re being charged with. Some of us will go to minimum security, some medium and some maximum.”

I shuddered when I thought about being sent off to some little room with some huge woman. I felt someone’s eyes on me. I turned to see a very large white woman staring at me. She was squat and broad shouldered, like a defensive linebacker. Her short red hair was parted down the center and twisted into two pigtails that sprouted from either side of her head.

“Why is that woman looking at me?” I asked Marcella.

Marcella turned in her direction. “She’s choosing.”

“What do you mean, choosing?” I said, a chill racing up my spine.

“Not that I’m a lesbian, but you’re kinda hot. That woman is sizing you up. Hopefully, you didn’t commit a crime that puts the two of you in the same division. And if so, you better hope you don’t get the same cell as her. Unless you find her equally attractive.”

The idea totally repulsed me. “I don’t! And how will I know what division I’m going to?”

“They about to tell us now,” Marcella said. “What you charged with anyway?”

“Drug possession, with intent to distribute. But they weren’t my drugs. I’m not guilty.”

Marcella smiled, and then broke out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ask any of these women. There’s not a guilty person in this entire jail.”

After our charges were read off to us, we were separated and taken to our divisions. There were four women in the group I walked
with. Marcella was one of them. There was another black woman. And then there was the big, white woman who could not keep her eyes off me.

All during the rest of our processing, while we were having our clothes taken from us and given the jail uniforms, I was praying that I would not be put in a cell with that gigantic woman. But each time I looked at her, she seemed to be licking her chops like she was a dog and I was some meat-covered bone.

The heavens must have heard my prayers, because when all was said and done, I stood in a small prison cell and Marcella was on the bottom bunk.

“Are they fucking kidding?” I practically screamed, looking at the toilet. It was a weird, stainless-steel thing, and the sink was actually connected to it. The sink and the toilet were actually one piece. “I’m supposed to wash my face and shit in the same place. This isn’t real!” I said.

“Pinch yourself. It’s real,” Marcella said.

“Don’t they know who I am?”

“They don’t care, but who are you, honey?”

“I’m Yancey Harrington Braxton. I have been on the Broadway stage, movies, and I had a big, big hit song.”

She started to look more interested. “Oh yeah. You do look kind of familiar. You ever been in any Tyler Perry movies?”

“No.”

“What about Spike Lee?”

“No, I haven’t.”

That seemed to be the limit of her exposure to actresses. “And you say you’re a big star. Well, I ain’t never heard of you. What about BET?”

“Some time ago, but mainly I was onstage. Have you ever heard of
Dreamgirls
?”

“Of course I’ve heard of
Dreamgirls
. You were in that? Tell me, how is Beyonce really? And Jamie Foxx? Girl, I loved it when he used to play Ugly Wanda on
In Living Color
. He was so funny. He played that role well. So, how were they?”

“I wasn’t in the movie,” I had to admit. “I was in the stage production. It came out before the movie.”

She made a face like I was an impostor. “I never knew it was a play. If you’re such a big-time star, why didn’t you get a private suite? I’m sure that if you tell them, they might move you.” She saw how doubtful I looked, and she added, “But I wouldn’t tell them you haven’t been in any Tyler Perry movies.”

I smiled politely and walked over to the mirror. It was nothing more than a square of reflective metal. I looked in it, and it looked as though I was staring at myself in a funhouse mirror. “How the hell am I supposed to do my makeup?”

Marcella laughed, like I was her private jokester. “Which bunk you want? Top or bottom?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be sleeping.”

Marcella climbed to the top bunk. She lay back, comfortable, like she was returning to her childhood bed back home. “Relax. It gets easier. You’ll make friends, get used to things. You’ll see. It’s not all that bad.”

I turned and looked at the woman, thinking what a sad, sorry life she must’ve led up till now if she thought this wasn’t that bad.

“Okay,” was all I could say.

“So get to bed,” Marcella said. “Lights out in about half an hour.”

As I lay in bed, staring up at Marcella’s mattress, I felt the warm tears slide down the side of my face. I didn’t bother to wipe them. They were tears for Marcella, but mostly for me. How did I get myself in here? But the more important question was, how would I ever get out?

Well, looks like Yancey got what she wanted. Publicity,” Ava said. She had been watching the news unfold all day. The coverage was giving the election returns a serious run for their money. She had been on Entertainment Tonight, E and CNN and not in a good way. “ ‘Former Broadway and recording star arrested for distribution of drugs.’ I couldn’t have planned it better myself. Steven, you’re brilliant,” Ava said, raising her wineglass in a toast.

Steven smiled at Ava across the table. “I told you to trust me.” He reached into his pocket and produced an envelope. “Here is your check. Certified, of course.”

Ava quickly ripped the envelope open and eyed the check that read 2.5 million dollars. Her smile instantly turned into a frown.

“This is not what we agreed on. You promised me
five
million. What the fuck is this?” Her rage gathered steam the longer she eyed the check. “Are you trying to mess me over, Steven? I did what you asked me and I want my money. All of it!”

Her outburst didn’t faze him in the least. “Calm down, Ava. This is
only a down payment. Once we get that bitch of a daughter of yours convicted, you will get the balance.”

“But you didn’t tell me that,” she cried. “Don’t change the rules in the middle of the game. That’s bullshit! I’m not the goddamn prosecuting attorney. It’s out of my hands.” His face remained blank, and she waved the check at him. “I’ve made plans for this money. Do you realize the chance I took getting those drugs and dealing with that low-life Donnie Ray?”

Steven sat there unmoved. “I realize you don’t run in Donnie Ray’s circle and you took a big chance, Ava. But business is business, and I’m not going to give out a large amount of money until I get my desired result. By the way, how did the interviews with the blue go? Did you put the nails in Yancey’s coffin?”

She nodded firmly, happy to have hoodwinked them. “I did what you said. I think they believe me and I know the jury will believe me too.”

“Don’t worry about the small shit, Ava. You will get the rest of your money. Just chill and spend the money you have.” Steven looked at his gold watch with the blue face, as if that was settled.

Ava wasn’t letting go that easily. “I don’t want my fate to be resting on twelve idiots making sure that Yancey goes to the prison for more years than I did. That’s not the program I signed up for.”

“It’s not a program, Ava,” he said dismissively. “Look, I got another meeting to make. You’ve trusted me up until now and I don’t think you got much of a choice but to continue to do so.”

Ava sat fuming, her hands tied.

“What do you think Madison thought of her birth mom being in jail?” Steven asked as he stood.

“If she’s like me and Yancey, she didn’t give a damn, because narcissism runs in the family. We’re all bitches. Even though I don’t know Madison, I could tell the minute I saw her that’s she got the bitch switch.”

Steven slipped his arms through his overcoat. “I’ve got to go. Enjoy your renewed wealth. I’m sure black society awaits you once again,” Steven said.

“Black society? Child, please. The whole world awaits the return of Ava.”

T
HE DOORBELL RANG, AND
Ava thought, About damn time. She opened it to find Lyrical. “What took you so long to get here? We got work to do.”

“What are you talking about? You only called me about two hours ago,” Lyrical protested. She was pretty much through with Ava and her attitude. “And what’s all this talk about a big party? Does Yancey know you’re giving a party at her house?” Lyrical asked. “She’s pretty strict about who she lets in here.”

“My
house, darling, and we don’t have to worry about Yancey anymore. She’s going to be busy for a while.” Ava led Lyrical to the dining room, adding, “I need you to call a locksmith to get all the locks on the house changed.”

Lyrical stopped in her tracks, sensing trouble. “Does Yancey know you’re doing this?”

“Yes, of course, dear.”

When Ava got that purr in her voice, Lyrical knew she was lying. “Where is she?”

“You ask a lot of questions. Here,” Ava said, placing a pen and notepad in Lyrical’s hands. “Take this so we can start writing down what we need to do. I want to have a fabulous dinner party that will be the talk of the town.”