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Authors: Tysha

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BOOK: Young-Minded Hustler
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“Naw, Ma, it can't even go down like that. I can't be labeled a snitch in here or out on those streets. That's a death wish, Ma.” Prince looked deep into his mother's eyes, searching for any sign that she understood where he was coming from.
Shy knew how much the rules of the streets had changed since she was a teenager. She thanked God for each and every day her boys were blessed to see. In a recent report, the city she had always called home was listed as one of the most dangerous cities in the country. Melvin often schooled Shy on the code of the streets. Some things were non-negotiable and no snitching always topped the list.
“Ma, I know you probably don't understand where I'm coming from but please keep our conversation between us. I shouldn't have told you as much as I have.”
It took all Shy tried not to burst into tears. She would be the first to admit that Prince often got himself into reckless situations and his temper could be out of control, but he was always honest with her. At times, she would have to drag the truth out of him because he wouldn't just volunteer to tell his mother something that would probably end in her knocking him to his knees, but Prince never lied to Shy.
“Prince, this is serious. The deck is already stacked against you in the justice system. You're young, black, and male and the last thing you want to do is start your life off with a possible felony on your record. There is no way I can just sit by and let that happen to you, Prince. As much as I love Raequan, he is not my responsibility, you are. You are my child, my reason for breathing, and it is my job to protect you. I'm getting you a lawyer,” said a drained Shy.
“What do you want me to do, Ma? I can't run my mouth and walk out of here. The streets don't forgive snitching, Ma, don't you understand that? Don't be wasting your money on no lawyer. I can just hook up with one of those public defenders.” Prince was getting frustrated because it didn't seem as if his mother completely understood him. She just didn't get it; snitching could be an automatic death sentence.
“Are you serious? You really don't want me to get you a lawyer?”
“Yes, ma'am. Ma, sometimes you're going to have to just let me fall,” Prince whispered, dropping his head down to his chest.
“Prince Jayden McGee, there is a difference between me letting you fall and me leaving you for dead. If I allowed your black behind to walk into that courtroom, at age seventeen, facing at least one felony with nothing more than a public defender to fight for you, I would be leaving you for dead. Now, this is not up for debate and the matter is closed.”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Prince apologetically. He knew his mother was right and Prince also knew how tight money was at home. Having to see his mother appear to struggle financially because of him made Prince hurt even more for his father. Melvin always took care of Shy and their boys. Prince couldn't remember having to worry about getting new shoes or designer clothes, or what would be underneath the Christmas tree.
“Shy, I'm sorry but you're going to have to get going,” interrupted William. “He's due in court tomorrow morning at nine in courtroom fifty-five B.”
“Okay, William, thank you. Prince, you are strong; be safe and keep your head up. I'll do what I have to do to help you through this. I love you.”
“Ma, I'm sorry about this and I will be okay,” promised Prince.
Shy wiped the tear that escaped from her eye and blew her son a kiss good night. She had a feeling they had a long road ahead of them and it was imperative that Prince remained strong. Prince stood to leave, when Shy called out to him.
“Prince, you know Mommy got your back, right?”
“You always have, Mommy.”
 
 
“What's good?” Raequan spoke from the other side of the glass.
“Shit, little nigga, you tell me,” responded Cherise.
“Man, you know them punk-ass blues be hatin' on a playa.”
“What made you stand out for them to hate on you this time?”
“Look, Ma, all of that don't matter because they got me hemmed up right now. All I want to know is how long it's going to take you to get me back out on dem streets?” asked Raequan in a demanding tone.
“I can't do anything for you until you go to court in the morning, and you better hope your probation officer doesn't decide to violate you for not completing your community service and paying restitution for your last fuck up,” snapped Cherise. “Enough of this bullshit; did you mug or rob some little white woman?” Cherise knew the answer before posing the question. Her relationship with her only son was one of veteran hustler and hustler-in-training. Raequan had no idea what it felt like to have parents in his life. His mother was more of a business partner than a protective, loving parent, and his father had been locked up for the betterpart of Raequan's life.
“It all started off as a joke and it just went a little too far. We were just messing with the lady, making fun of her and shit. Everything would have been cool if her little ass wouldn't have run off at the mouth, calling me a worthless thug and shit,” explained Raequan.
“What did Prince's scary ass do?”
“Nothing. He ain't have nothing to do with it but the lady couldn't tell him and Mike apart. He just got caught up and shit. Enough of that talk; you know they got these rooms equipped with recording devices to go along with the cameras. They're probably recording every word we drop.”
“So what the fuck you gon' do? Are you going to let the courts know they arrested the wrong person?”
“No, I ain't snitchin'! I can't believe you'd even ask me some shit like that.”
“Shit, I really don't care who the fuck they lock up behind this. You're probably going to be in here for a minute and Prince ain't the first innocent person to be locked up and he damn sure won't be the last. Fuck him” stated Cherise nonchalantly.
“Word.”
Chapter 12
You Were Raised Better
Lying on the uncomfortable, cold mat assigned to him made every inch of Prince's body ache. There was only one old, smelly blanket to cover up with and Prince thought for sure if sleep found him he would freeze to death. It was the longest night of his life and Prince could not wait to get to court and released into the custody of his mother. Unfortunately for him, that day would be a long time coming.
Cherise and Shy sat in the first row, waiting to get a look at their little boys. Knowing her son the way she did, Shy knew how scared Prince must have been waking up in jail. It was an experience she prayed would send him running back to the right path. He was very intelligent and kindhearted but he always sold himself short. Witnessing his father's death was very traumatic for Prince, but he rebelled against every counselor Shy took him to.
Shy dipped into her secret emergency money to retain a lawyer for her son but he had yet to show up in court.
“I can't believe it. They have started calling cases and the lawyer hasn't arrived yet,” said a nervous Shy.
“Girl, don't even trip. I don't know why you paid all of that money for a lawyer anyway. I'm sure you would qualify for a public defender. Why pay for something when you can get it for free?” asked Cherise in between popping her chewing gum.
“One, you and that gum are working my nerves. Two, my children deserve the best and a public defender will not work for Prince as an individual. Each and every boy being escorted into this courtroom so far has been black; trust me when I tell you that's not a coincidence. Prince isn't just another statistic and I'm not leaving him out there for dead.”
Shy's tone was defensive and so was her stand on the situation at hand. She didn't care what people said about her baby, he was worth saving and anyone who did not believe it could kiss her ass. Cherise just looked at Shy without saying another word.
Six boys had been brought out and paraded in front of the judge, who had yet to look up from the files his clerk placed in front of him. Each boy was ordered held until their next court date, even the ones charged with misdemeanors and who had no record.
Shy looked over at Cherise, trying to figure out why she did not appear to be as nervous as she was. Cherise always seemed so detached from everything and everyone except her son and that twenty-five-to-life-serving, sorry-ass husband of hers. Knowing how her friend dealt with things, Shy figured Cherise was nervous as she was on the inside.
Sitting in the courtroom had Shy's stomach doing all kinds of flips and somersaults. Shy sat wringing her hands in an attempt to stop them from shaking. Her leg jumped a mile a minute and she was sure she was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.
Cherise's eyes searched the crowded courtroom for any familiar faces. The crackling of her gum was getting on the nerves of everyone around her, including Shy, but Cherise did not give a damn. Chewing gum was how she worked out troubling issues. Though she had been the stereotypical worried single mother sitting inside the courtroom before, this one felt different. With Raequan's record, he was most likely going to be serving some time in the juvenile detention center.
“Would you please stop it,” voiced Shy.
“Stop what?” Cherise asked.
“Cracking that damn gum. It's getting on my last damn nerve,” Shy snapped.
A few of the women sitting around Shy and Cherise agreed with nods of the head, a few “amen's,” and a couple “mm huh's.” Cherise rolled her eyes at the collective sea of browns, beiges, and chocolates, with a look that warned them not to say another word. She popped her gum one more time just to annoy Shy.
“Cherise, would you quit it!” The words came out louder than Shy intended, but she meant them nonetheless.
“Prince McGee and Raequan Jackson are present, Your Honor. Both boys are charged with auto theft, assault, and evading arrest,” announced the court clerk before Cherise could respond to Shy.
Shy's heart raced and she broke out in a sweat. Prince made eye contact with his mother and they exchanged forced smiles, both trying to be strong for the other. Shy could not believe what she was hearing. It was clear that the boys were being thrown into the lion's den, and Prince's lawyer still had not arrived.
“How do you plead, Mr. Jackson?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty, fo' sho,” replied a cocky Raequan.
“‘Not guilty' will suffice; the extra Ebonics are not necessary,” said the judge without looking up from the open file. “And you, Mr. McGee, how do you plead?”
“Not guilty, sir,” responded Prince in a nervous voice.
“Is counsel present for each defendant?” asked Judge Alderman.
“Yes, Your Honor. Simon Priestley for both defendants,” replied a young white man who looked to be the same age as his clients.
“Good. Both defendants are held over until their trial dates. Next case,” said Judge Alderman as he closed the file on the boys.
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but Prince McGee has never been arrested and has no record at all. I would ask that you reconsider your decision and send him home on house arrest until a deal can be reached with the prosecution or the trial date.” Mr. Priestley spoke with no authority or interest.
“How does the prosecution feel about the request?” asked Judge Alderman.
“Due to the seriousness of the charges, the state requests Prince McGee be held over 'til the next court date,” replied Marianne Boyce. Like the judge, she too kept her eyes down during the verbal exchange.
“Sorry, Mr. Priestley, but your client will be held until the next court date. I suggest that you and the state get together and discuss a plea. The court's calendar is full and both dependents may be guests of the state of Ohio for some time.”
With that being said, the judge slammed his gavel, and Shy watched her son be led out of the courtroom. Cherise rose from her seat, expecting Shy to follow her lead. Shy's legs felt so weak she was sure to fall if she tried to stand. She tried to wrap her mind around what just happened, but fear would not allow it.
“Shy, honey, come on, let's get out of here,” Cherise said. She rubbed her friend's back in an attempt to snap her out of her daze. Cherise's eye caught sight of a handful of other women who looked to be in need of a best friend.
This must be their first time in court behind one of their children,
thought Cherise. Though she understood their current positions, the only woman she gave a damn about was Shy. “Everything is going to be okay. Just grab my arm and lean on me. I won't let you fall. Prince is safe as long as Raequan is with him and, anyway, his lawyer is probably in the hall waiting for you.”
Shy had no idea how long she was zoned out but she snapped back of it at the mention of Raequan being behind bars with her baby.
“Yeah, Raequan will watch out for Prince, right?” asked Shy in a childlike voice.
“Yes, Raequan will watch out for Prince. Hold my hand and follow me outside, so we can find out what happened to the lawyer you hired.”
 
 
Early the next morning, Shy sat in a small white room at the detention center with Edward Teague, Prince's lawyer, waiting for the guard to return with Prince. Unfortunately for Prince, his lawyer was involved in a bad car accident yesterday morning, causing him to miss the arraignment. Edward was carried away from the accident with a fractured leg and was released from the hospital after receiving a cast. By that time it was late afternoon. He felt bad for not being able to represent his young client.
“You look worried and tense,” said Edward. “Don't worry, we are going to get your family through this.”
“I pray that we do. I didn't sleep at all last night for worrying about my baby,” said Shy as tears escaped her eyes. She swept them away as fast as she could when the door suddenly opened. The faint glimmer Prince held on to inside of him immediately lit up when he saw his mother. Since witnessing the death of his father, Prince had caused problems and given his mother heartache, but she never gave up on him. Prince loved his family more than anything but his mother was special to him. Their mother-son relationship was strong and unbreakable.
Shy rose to meet Prince halfway and embraced him with open arms.
“Are you okay, baby?” asked Shy.
“Yes, Mommy, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, 'cause you know I can take care of myself,” Prince replied with closed eyes and a heavy heart. He hated the fact that his lifestyle sometimes brought pain to his mother's heart, but he saw no way out of the street hustle. It was in his blood.
Edward watched the touching scene between mother and son and his heart went out to them both. He too was caught up in the streets as a teenager, but being locked up when his father passed away from a stroke was enough to make him turn his life around. Understanding what was being shared between his clients, Edward sat quietly until Shy and Prince broke their embrace.
“Hello, Prince. My name is Edward Teague and your mother has retained me as your lawyer.”
“What's up, man?”
Prince eyed his lawyer up and down, trying to size him up. Despite being draped in a tailored suit, Prince could tell the man had some street in him.
“Let's sit down and get to business,” Edward said while pulling a chair out for Shy. “I need to hear everything about that day. And Prince?”
“Yeah?”
“Don't leave anything out. I want to know exactly what you did the day of your arrest, from the time you woke up to the exact minute you arrived here at the juvenile facility,” instructed Edward. “Everything you say will be kept in the strictest confidence.” Edward pulled a legal pad and ink pen from his mahogany-colored briefcase. “Before we begin, tell me if you're comfortable talking with your mother in the room with us.”
“Yeah, it's cool. My mom already knows the story,” replied Prince.
Prince went over every single minute with his lawyer and painted a very clear picture for Edward. It was evident to Shy and Edward that Prince was his own worst enemy. He had no involvement with the crime but he knew who did.
“You have to tell the judge the truth so we can get you out of here,” said Shy.
“No, I ain't a snitch, Ma,” replied Prince.
“So you just willing do to someone else's time for a crime you didn't commit?” Shy asked in disbelief.
“Your mother is right,” interjected Edward. “If you are charged as an adult, this crime will follow you for the rest of your life. You are going on eighteen and facing felony status.”
“At least I will still have a life. Do you know what will happen to me in here and when I touch down on the street if I'm labeled as a snitch?”
“Prince, you have to think about your future. All this no snitching bullshit makes no sense,” cried Shy. His rationale angered Shy. Prince would have rather remained behind bars than tell the truth and be set free. “His father used to pound that ‘snitches get stitched' bullshit all the time like it was some kind of gospel.”
“It is the gospel of the streets. I know because I used to be out there myself,” explained Edward. “I was in a similar situation when I was your age, so I understand where you're coming from. Before you decided your fate, listen to what the prosecutor proposes. He will reduce the felony car theft charge to a simple joy ride if you agree to give them the other person involved and testify against him.”
“Hell no! Are you crazy, man? That's a fucking death wish,” fumed Prince.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” snapped Shy. “Let the man finish.”
“Or you will have to serve six months behind bars and another six months on probation upon your release,” finished Edward.
Shy was scared for Prince. He wanted so much to be like his father that Prince made bad choices without intent. Their father/son mindsets were why Shy knew Prince was going to make the wrong decision, and she would not be able to get him out of the mess he was in.
“I'm good, man. Just let them crackers charge me as a juvie and I'll do the six months. Shit, time in here is better than life six feet in the ground.” Prince tried to justify his decision but Shy knew it was a front.
“You sure that's what you want to do? You can think on it for a while,” explained Edward.
“Prince, please think about this before you make a rash decision,” said Shy with tears staining her face.
“I'm sorry to put you through this, Ma, but I got to do my time,” responded Prince. “Please don't cry.”
“But it's not your time, baby; you will be doing somebody else's,” reasoned Shy.
“I love you, Ma, and I'll be home in six months.” Prince hung his head low for putting tears in his mother's eyes. He did not know how to get her to understand the code of the streets. Being behind bars for six months for something he didn't do was the last thing Prince wanted to do, but he was stuck and nothing his mother said could change that.
BOOK: Young-Minded Hustler
9.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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